A New Player in the Force (SW/Lite Gamer)

[USSExplorer]

A/N:
As always, thanks to those helping me write and plan out this story and checking it for continuality and logic errors.

This chapter was released at least 2 weeks ago to my Patreons (with them seeing a draft version around 2 months ago) and on the story's Discord server (in GDoc form) about a week ago.
Links for both are at the end of the chapter.
Hopefully, all the little mistakes have been found and removed.

This chapter has multiple POVs.

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The Phantom Menace 4
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(Vhonte Tervho's POV)
If someone had told Vhonte a month or even a week ago that she'd be fighting to defend a planet inhabited by naak-loving fools, she'd have assumed she was being paid an extraordinary amount. After laughing endlessly at the destruction of the so-called 'New Mandalorian' faction during her people's most recent civil war, she wanted nothing to do with anyone who held similar ideals. Yet, that was where Vhonte found herself, though as she watched the lead elements of the Great Gungan Army slip from the cover of the forest onto the plains that allowed clear passage all the way to the city of Theed over a hundred kilometres away, she couldn't say she disliked where she found herself.

Unlike many in this battle, she had no connection to those responsible for the call to arms. Instead, she had come for the promise of credits. Cameron Shan was an unknown, and a curious one at that. She had heard the stories of the Mando'ade Jetii, viewed the recording of his verd'goten, and even seen the skull of the great beast that Adonai Kryze had displayed, yet she knew nothing of him personally. Nor did she care to. She was primarily here for the credits, as were many others, though some few were here at the word of Torrhen Ordo or Adonai Kryze, or to see if the descendant of Naast be Me'suums was everything others claimed him to be.

To be clear, she respected all three to varying amounts, with Torrhen Ordo being the worthiest of respect. Unlike Adonai Kryze he hadn't aligned with the dar'manda who licked at the feet of the Tsad Droten, and unlike Cameron Shan, didn't try to claim a position of power among their people while standing with the lapdogs of the Republic. None were truly worthy of any loyalty from her, as none had been since Jango Fett had abandoned his calling.

Her father had served with Jaster Mereel in the Haat Mando'ade, and when Jaster had fallen, and named Jango his heir, Vhonte's father had been ready to follow him as Mand'alor. However, after the disaster on Galidraan – which had taken the life of Vhonte's father – Jango lost faith in their people. Once Tor Vizsla was dead, Jango withdrew from Mando'ade culture, becoming a feared bounty hunter. While Vhonte also worked for the Guild, she had never been Mand'alor, never abandoned her people as Jango had, and his actions had cost her much of her hope that one day their people might reunite under a strong leader and once again threaten the stars themselves.

Yet, if not for those events, Vhonte wouldn't be here now, helping a planet and people she'd have dismissed as deserving of being invaded free itself. Nor see that, when they had to, the Naboo were willing to fight for their home.

Vhonte would have preferred to have fought in the battle for the Lucrehulk, getting a chance to serve once more alongside Kal Skirata. Failing that, if she had the power to ensure it, she'd have gone with the strike teams to Theed, where the true battle for the planet would take place. However, she, along with Dun Marod and others, was tasked with integrating Mando'ade with the other warriors who would fight in the battle on the plains, and distract most of the forces of the Trade Federation.

Which, after discovering the initial Gungan plan, was a good thing.

Vhonte was shocked that any army would consider simply marching on an open field and engaging a numerically and technologically superior army as anything less than osik. And that was before considering that the Federation would have total air superiority if the Naboo fighters couldn't launch in time to engage the Lucrehulks.

Yet, that the Gungans knew all this and were still willing to march out to their deaths, to die defending their home, was something Vhonte and other Mando'ade could respect. That was why she and Dun had argued for hours with the Gungans – enduring their odd butchering of Basic that almost made her miss listening to a Hutt – to convince them to alter the plan.

They'd hoped to arm the Gungans with modern blasters, as over a hundred had been liberated from droids while moving through the mountains, but the Gungans had refused. They would face the battle with the weapons of their people, no matter how ineffective wooden spears may be against droids, riding beasts of burden into battle.

And yet, for all the primitive appearance of the Gungans, they had some technology. Shield generators were carried on the backs of large local beasts called fambaas, and behind them, dragged by the same beasts the Gungans rode as mounts, ammunition for their siege weaponry. Spheres of plasma, harvested from deep in the planet's core – which explained why the Trade Federation had chosen this world – would be launched at the droids, potentially disabling anything they struck. Up to, and including, tanks and troop transports.

The strike teams, or at least the majority of them, for Theed, would move to their target via submersibles that while appearing organic, were marvels of organic technology that allowed the Gungans to traverse the underwater tunnels that lined this world – even passing through its very core. From what she had been told, the core was inhabited by beasts comparable to the mythosaurs of her culture's history. Vhonte respected the Gungans' bravery for travelling routes controlled by such creatures, and if the chance arose to hunt these beasts, she would be interested in doing so. While she didn't enjoy game hunting as much as others might, the appeal of challenging, and killing an apex predator was never to be overlooked.

The Gungans were, even if they lacked modern technology, warriors, and that earned them Vhonte's respect; and that of the other Mando'ade, and the Lokella'ade that had also come to fight for Naboo. Haran, if not for the speech given by the Naboo's leader, and the unexpected warrior's spirit the Naboo displayed, Vhonte would've considered the Naboo unworthy of the effort to save them, credits be damned.

With their world in danger, the Naboo had stepped forward and placed themselves into the firing line, and all that started with Queen Amidala. On the way to the rendezvous, Vhonte had watched the Queen's appearance before Tsad Droten with Kal and others. That the same, small, seemingly insignificant child was the same as the one who spoke last night was something Vhonte was still finding hard to reconcile.

That she had, after seeing the failings of the Tsad Droten, decided to return home and fight was unexpected to Vhonte, and impressed her. That feeling grew as the forces called for by Cameron Shan answered the call to arms. Queen Amidala was willing to fight for her home, and her people, and after last night, it was clear her people would follow.

That speech, one that challenged the Tsad Droten, and all those fools who placed blind faith in Coruscant, was worthy of a leader; one who would fight on the front lines for their people. Vhonte held no love for the Naboo, but seeing how their leader had inspired them, the Gungans, and the others here to fight, Vhonte saw the spark of the Warrior still resided in the Naboo. Amidala's speech, recorded by Vhonte and others, would soon make its way throughout the Galaxy, and show the masses the flaws of the Tsad Droten. It would show them that they had been deceived; that the Tsad Droten only cared about themselves and not the people they claimed to serve.

Thus, while she was here for the credits, and that would be true no matter what anyone said, Vhonte would admit to herself that now she was motivated beyond the simple desire for credits. The veil of the false peace of the Tsad Droten was slipping, and Vhonte knew in her bones that soon the truth would be understood by the masses. This battle, for a minor, seemingly insignificant world, was a spark that would light the fires of war throughout the galaxy.

Vhonte looked forward to that, almost as much as she was looking forward to the credits and battles it would bring.

… …

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… …

(Cam's POV)
As we moved through the hidden tunnels that led into Theed, I once more marvelled at the data coming to me through the HUD of my armour. Now, I'd experienced the dataflow from my team when I'd trained on Mandalore, but there it had been limited to just those seven others. Here, as we advanced quickly through secret passageways hundreds of metres below the plains of Naboo and the outer building of the capital city, I understood how powerful the Battlenet truly was.

I'd had something similar in my previous life, but here the data was coming in for everything. I could watch through the cameras of any warrior connected to the Battlenet – which included the Lokella for this operation – with ease. As we walked forward, a small display in the HUD showed feed from the armour of Osto and Bo as their assault teams neared their deployment positions, then from Naz as she moved with Sabe's unit toward where we'd meet them, before quickly switching to the datafeed from Vhonte Tervho as she watched the Gungan army assembled a few kilometres from the forest where she and the warriors with her remained; hidden from the sensors of the Federation by localised jamming equipment that wouldn't stand out unless the Federation did a detailed, equally localised scan of the battlefield.

At the same time, I could pull up the condition of any of the warriors in the battle, viewing their health, weapon loadout – including spare clips, grenades, and rockets – along with their location on a superimposed map of the planet. Or at least the planet near where they were. While I could look at other sections of the planet, there was no real-time feed coming into me as there wasn't anyone connected to the Battlenet, nor in range of a booster – which normally was just another warrior at another location – to carry their signal to my feed. Amusingly, I'd set the HUD's map feed to superimpose over my minimap. So long as the HUD map remained focused on roughly the same area as the Minimap, it acted as an enhanced map combining the Force, the Interface, and the Battlenet into one.

Haran, even just focusing on what my armour was relaying to me was a marvel. Beyond knowing my condition and setup – minus my Inventory as that was outside anything any could detect so long as I didn't access it – my armour knew the model of the various blasters and other weaponry being carried by Padmé and those with her - though I had already memorised most models and weapons in my training -; including the report that one of the guards under Panaka's command was taking medication for a rash. I'd rather not have known that, nor where the rash was, but that level of detail was incredible.

The HUD also prioritised targets based on preset parameters, with protocols to shift those parameters if a hostile was of a given species or group, or if they carried highly dangerous weaponry. It also had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree field of vision that I could call up. However, I had that disabled as I found it, when combined with the Interface, to be a sensory overload. Once Naboo was free and I was away with Anakin to teach him, I planned to get used to the system, but for now, it was turned off.

"How much further?"

The question came from Serra as we slowed our approach. I knew we were under Theed now, so it shouldn't be too long. Serra, along with Drallig and Panaka, was leading our teams through the tunnels. Padmé, HK, R2, Simvyl, and others were behind them while my unit, which included three of those from my Institute team back on Mandalore, brought up the rear.

As I looked at Serra, I once more noted how odd it was to see her in almost full armour, the only missing section being her helmet. While Drallig couldn't force me to remove mine – not that I would've even if he could – as her Master, he had ordered Serra to do that, and she had acquiesced.

Many of the Mandalorians present hadn't been happy about that, with Bo and Naz coming and complaining to me about it. They argued that Serra had come as Mando'ade to this battle and that her removing her helmet was, to some, an insult, not to mention stupid. However, I'd countered by saying that until Serra was made a Jedi Knight – and thus considered a full member of the Jedi – or she chose to leave the Order, then she was under the command of Master Drallig. Neither girl had been happy about it, but they'd accepted my word on the matter and passed it along to others, and it seemed to have sunk in as no one had challenged her about it.

That was because I'd met the one most likely to do so last night, and made clear if he had an issue with my command, he could stay behind and forfeit his pay for the battle, or close his mouth and accept my orders. Normally, he'd have the right to challenge me for command over this, but given lead elements such as striking the prison camps around Theed had already deployed, that option wasn't available. Thus, the warrior from Clan Wrajud had shut his mouth, though Osto had warned me that the warrior and others might challenge me after the battle, especially if it resulted in defeat. I'd thanked him for the warning and was prepared to deal with the matter afterwards, though I made sure to keep an eye on the unit Wrajud was serving with.

"No more than five minutes unless the exit's blocked," Panaka replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The tunnel had, so far, been empty. Even the various passageways that led elsewhere – which had me wondering why such tunnels were built – were deserted. Either that meant the Federation didn't know about them, or they did and were waiting for us to emerge to ambush us. In their place, I'd have mined the tunnels, or at the very least, placed sensors to detect movement if I knew of them. Since we'd yet to encounter any such threats, it appeared the Force was with us.

"Assault teams, report in." The command was said internally, travelling through the Battlenet. While I could've used eye gestures to send the commands, I found it easier and more familiar, to use vocal commands, and with all the seals on my armour, any reply or command given wouldn't sneak out. Something proved as neither HK nor R2 could detect when I was speaking within the armour.

Commands filtered in from the various teams around Theed. Most were still waiting in the bongos, below the waterline and hidden from sight. The few teams that had inserted via speeder were also in position, ready to begin the various attacks to draw attention away from the palace. The commands were filtered to Osto as well, as I knew once I found him, my focus would be entirely on Maul. My free hand gently touched one of my vambraces, reassuring myself that the various weaponry I'd had installed was there. Taking Maul down was going to be a fucking pain, though a challenge I absolutely relished, but I felt I had enough aces up my sleeve that I had a fair chance of achieving my goals.

My thoughts turned from Maul as one of the speeder teams reported that they'd met local resistance and been paired up with two Jedi. Pulling up their feed, I saw that one of the Jedi was Sia-Lan Wezz, which made me pause. I had no idea she, nor Rann I-Kanu, who I only knew in passing but had sparred with several times over the years, were on the planet. Still, learning they were here added new wrinkles to the plan, though thankfully the pair were far from the hangar, and thus beyond Maul's reach.

Pushing aside thoughts on the unexpected extra help – and wondering how they'd been doing since the invasion began – I waited, letting time tick away as we slowly reached the tunnel's exit. Once Panaka signalled we were there, I spoke through the Battlenet.

"Slannar."

No direct response of command came through the Battlenet, though within seconds details of warriors engaging battledroids filtered to me. Blue marks on the city map confirmed the engagement, and if I focused on those marks, details of the various warriors connected to the Battlenet were brought forth. Updates of warrior's conditions, be that ammo rates, strikes against armour, and the like appeared in a stream that, thanks to setting up the HUD earlier, meant they arrived in the same corner of my vision as Interface notices. Having the HUD overlay the interface meant I wasn't distracted by information overload in a dozen different points of vision.

"Assault is underway," I said, using the armour's external speakers for the first time since entering the tunnels. Unlike others, I wasn't using voice modulation, as I didn't want to blend into the masses.

A faint spike of concern and apprehension came from the Naboo with us – well, bar Panaka and Padmé. The former was focused only on protecting Padmé while the young queen radiated quiet determination; understanding that what was to come had to be done. The warriors with us, be they Mando'ade or Lokella, were battle-hardened and ready for what was to come, while the Jedi drew on the Force, releasing any concerns – which were mainly coming from Serra and directed toward me – into it.

Two battles were flagged for attention, and as Panaka worked to open the hatch leading to the surface, I reviewed the feeds, seeing the teams were engaging sentients. Given the hodgepodge array of species and weaponry, those were mercenary units, and I bit back a growl at seeing Trandoshans among the mercenaries, kriffing lizards. That there were mercenary units in play wasn't unexpected, but it was concerning to see them engage assault units so quickly. I sent new orders to the assault units engaged with the mercenaries to capture at least one from each group for questioning. Naboo had been gathered for shipping off-world, so if the Federation somehow destroyed the data of where those people had been sent and sold, the mercenaries might give up that information in return for their lives.

Regardless of how we learnt that information, Ferox and Validus had already promised Padmé the support of the Lokella to find and free her people. Padmé had been grateful for their help, and for the offers that they and Osto had extended to help train Naboo's security forces once the planet was free. It would cost the Naboo to hire instructors, but it seemed that Padmé understood that after this battle, Naboo couldn't entirely go back to how things had been before.

Light filtering into the tunnel let me know the exit was open, and as Panaka, HK, and Drallig led everyone upward, I sent a signal to Naz. She was with Sabé's unit and would bring them to the meeting point close to the hangar and entrance to the set of passageways that would lead to the palace.

Emerging into Theed, my eyes were instantly scanning for threats, my main lightsaber in hand. The HUD and my minimap were giving an insanely detailed map of the combat going on in the city, but it seemed that, for the moment, we'd emerged undetected.

Looking over the section of the Solleu River we'd emerged next to, I scanned the buildings on the far side. Detection located groups of droids and sentients moving around; however, I frowned as I realised that the sentients weren't from anyone connected to the Battlenet. Pulling up the details, I passed orders to the nearest units to engage and subdue what I believed to be another team of mercenaries, with the same intent to capture at least one for questioning.

A bongo rose from the river, and the rest of my team moved to cover them as Sabé, dressed as Amidala as seen in the Senate, emerged behind Naz. Others came with her, providing protection for Sabé; none of them aware that they weren't escorting the true queen.

Around me, I could feel the Force shifting, a growing conflagration of energy making clear it knew a critical moment was drawing close. Maul, if he was still expecting to engage the Jedi or me, would be nearby, yet no report had come in of a Force user in the field. There was no chance he didn't know that the city was under attack, or that there were Jedi present. Outside of myself, none of them were making any effort to hide their Force Presence. Qui-Gon had wondered why I was doing that when we'd entered the tunnel, though he'd not given voice to his curiosity. Provided he survived, as he likely would, I already had reasoning as to why I did so that should hide my foreknowledge of Maul's presence from him during the debrief.

My eyes drifted toward the hangar, the headquarters of the Naboo Security Force, and the main power generator that was attached to it. That area was expected to have droid patrols; however, none had moved to engage us. Given a unit half a klick away, in the general direction of the palace, was battling droids, I suspected the defenders here had been pulled away to handle them.

My gaze then shifted toward Jafan's Spire, and I reached out with the Force, searching for any hint of Maul. That was the direction Drallig and Serra were heading, and it should be clear, though I couldn't be sure. While Detection wasn't sensing him, the vision of the Jedi fighting him played on my mind; something that had been increasingly common the closer we'd gotten to the city.

Drallig and Serra would be fine freeing the prisoners at the Spire, especially as there was a unit of Mandalorians there to help. Yet until Maul was located and engaged, my concerns for her would continue to bother me. Haran, I might even still be concerned for her if she didn't fight Maul as this was the first true battle that she'd fought in. If a mistake was going to be made, the odds were that it would occur when she was first put under real pressure.

As Sabé reached Padmé, messages came in through the Battlenet, continually updating me on the situation around the city. Before a quick meeting could take place, I sent instructions to teams around the battlefield, altering their assault plans. Beyond a receipt of orders, no response came, but that was enough. Additional support was being sent to three units who, while well-armed, had lucked out and encountered tank squadrons not long after the order to attack had been given. With time, I knew all three would eliminate the tanks, but I'd rather not risk their lives needlessly.

"Master Drallig," I said, getting his attention as the meeting began. "Your support units are waiting here, and here." A small map of our location was projected from my vambrace. It marked the primary route to Jafan's Spire and the location where the two support units would meet them.

"Very well. May the Force be with you." After nods from myself and Qui-Gon – who along with Obi-Wan had been escorting Sabé to complete the illusion that she was Amidala – he moved off. After a brief moment, where her eyes found mine even under my helmet, Serra went after him.

"How far to the passageways?" Qui-Gon asked. My helmet stayed toward the meeting though my eyes tracked Serra as she headed away. When she and Drallig slipped through the first archway on their path, taking them perhaps ten metres from us, I relaxed ever so slightly. They were heading away from where Maul should be, though with so much of this battle changing I couldn't trust that he'd be waiting for us at the exit of the hangar as he had in the other timeline.

"The other side of the hangar," Panaka replied, and after a nod from Sabé, turned to take the lead. I moved quickly past him, the grip on my lightsaber's hilt tightening as I moved toward the large domed hangar. To reach it we first had to slip over a promenade that ran down the edge of the river to the Virdugo waterfall. In the other timeline, there had been a tank waiting at the end of the promenade, taking shots at the fighters as they took off. Here though, resistance units had reported four tanks on the promenade, along with at least three squads of battledroids.

Reaching the edge of an intersection that opened onto the promenade, I reached out with the Force, quickly sensing nearly three dozen droids waiting. Sticking my arm out, I used the vambrace to gain a visual and confirmed two tanks and twenty droids guarding the entrance to the hangar, and the passageway that led to the Naboo Security Forces headquarters. The other Federation forces had been called away to deal with the various assaults taking place in the city, but this lot had remained behind.

At the far side of the promenade, as in the other timeline, a local resistance unit was waiting, and as before, Padmé sent them a signal with a light. After they confirmed the signal, a speeder with an attached heavy repeater slipped into view and opened fire on the droids.

Their fire glanced off the tanks, doing no damage to them, but five B1s fell before the Federation forces reacted. As the tanks turned, their turrets bearing down on the speeder, the resistance unit slipped away; taking cover behind the wall of the building they'd emerged from.

Heavy blasts from the tank slammed into the building, shattering the stone with ease. As Padmé and Panaka led the rest across the promenade, I rushed forward. The resistance fighters had risked their lives to give us an opening, and I planned to make sure their move didn't cost them.

The faint roar of my blade as it ignited drew the attention of four droids near me. Before they could turn to see what had caused the noise, I was on them. The Force accelerated my movements, making it hard for their processors to track my movements, and after barely three steps, I was moving past them; the remains of the droids sliding to the floor; edges glowing where my lightsaber had slid through their frames.

Two more droids turned, detecting that something was amiss, but a flick of my wrist sent them crashing into the side of one tank. While that did nothing to damage the tank, it took out the droids and gave me room to leap. I twisted in mid-air, bringing my blade down on the barrel of the tank even as I used my other hand to send a Force Blast at another group of battledroids.

The barrel clanked against the hull of the tank, rendering its primary weapon inoperable, though I was still moving. Another jump carried me to the top of the other tank. The command droid there, realising my intent, dropped low, pulling the hatch closed behind him. However, I landed before the hatch could close fully and my blade slipped into the darkness within, burning a hole through the droid's head.

As I pulled my blade back, I used my other hand to rip the hatch from its hinges, tossing it behind me into a group of battledroids. With the access clear, I pulled a grenade from my belt, started the timer, and dropped it down. It bounced down to the trio of droid gunners, even as I leapt away, avoiding fire from the few remaining battledroids.

I planned to land on the first tank and finish that off, but a warning from the Force had me alter my jump an instant before I leapt, and as I landed – my lightsaber coming around to destroy three battledroids – a rocket slammed into the rear of the remaining tank. The rear hatch exploded, and the tank lurched forward, the repulsor-lifts holding it up failing as the front edge dug into the tiled ground of the promenade.

Looking at where the rocket had come from, I saw my unit in action. The Battlenet reported the rocket had come from Thun Dur's back, and as the last battledroid fell, he slid a new one into the launcher.

With the small droid force destroyed in less than half a minute, I jogged back over to the others.

"I believe the intent was for a silent insertion," Qui-Gon commented with an amused smirk.

"For you and Queen Amidala, yes," I replied as I gave Sabé a nod, keeping up the deception. "However, my unit is tasked with helping the pilots launch and then securing the generator." Officially, the reasoning there was that the pilots would need flight control – which was situated above the hanger – and prevent the Federation from attempting to destroy the generator, thus damaging a large part of Theed. "The more droids we draw to us, the less you should encounter as you approach the palace."

Qui-Gon nodded, accepting my logic. Both he and Drallig were surprised I'd given myself a seemingly minor role in the battle. Perhaps they felt I'd try to take part in a bigger battle, claiming more glory for myself. That I hadn't, had most likely eased their fears about my motivations for assembling the force helping to free Naboo.

I turned to Sabé and bowed. "May the Force be with you, your Majesty."

"And with you, Master Jedi," Sabé replied. The HUD could detect the faint variance in her tone that confirmed she wasn't the queen, but that was only because I'd been around her and Padmé for some time planning the battle. Otherwise, the slight variance between Sabé's tone and Padmé's would be ignored by most as something caused by the situation.

"Oya!"

I blinked, caught flat-footed by Padmé's comment. While it fit the situation perfectly, and amused the Mandalorians with us, I hadn't realised she'd picked up any Mando'a. Before I could give her a response, she followed Sabé and the others to the hangar. My unit moved as cover for the pilots while I hung back. I needed to be ready to move the moment Maul was sighted.

Qui-Gon and Panaka reached the hangar entrance first and quickly slipped inside. Padmé, Sabé, HK, Obi-Wan, and Simvyl moved next, along with the handful of Naboo security also acting as the decoy defence team for Sabé. Behind them, a four-warrior unit led by Naz came. They'd be the security for Padmé in the palace, with HK breaking off with Padmé as well.

However, as Thun Dur and Andeeld Krhul covered the pilots as they slipped inside, I felt the Force shift.

The HUD flared as it detected movement in a nearby building. Reacting to the warning going through the Battlenet, my unit moved, facing the new threat. Trusting the force, I leapt from my cover, and a moment later the pillar I'd been using exploded as a powerful plasma bolt slammed into it.

As the pillar groaned, and began the process of falling, I landed and rolled, the tiles behind me exploding as a series of blaster bolts slammed into them.

As I reached fresh cover, the Battlenet was already relaying into my HUD. Three snipers had taken up position over the small square we'd crossed, and had the unit pinned down. Huzu Cadora had taken a hit in the chest, knocking her from her feet though the only damage from the bolt was the scorching of the paint on her beskar. Other than the embarrassment of that, the unit was fine, and she and the others were already returning fire.

Yet, as their fire forced the snipers to pull back, I growled as a new group emerged into the square. Trandoshans were my least-liked species – even the Vong were worthy of more respect in my mind – yet that was what the group was composed of.

That they were here while groups of Naboo were being sold into slavery wasn't surprising, but I'd have rather avoided the walking handbags and furniture. Biting back a snarl, I reached out with the Force, gripping one of the lizards by its neck. As it frantically scratched at the sudden lack of air, I yanked my arm to the side, slamming it into one of its brethren.

The pair were assaulted with blaster fire, their bodies twitching delightfully as they succumbed to their wounds. Yet, just as I was about to savour the chance to remove more reptiles for the galaxy – and once more insult their god, The Scorekeeper – I felt the Force shift, warning me of a greater danger.

The Dark Side flared to life, and I quickly realised the location it was coming from. The same one where I could sense Serra and Drallig; directly beyond the Trandoshans. At the same time, reports came in of the units in the hangar coming under attack by droidekas, far more than in the other timeline.

Biting back a curse at this happening at the same time, I relayed orders to my unit. Andeeld Krhul, Thun Dur, and two of the Lokella with us were to move to help the Queen's teams. Huzu Cadora, Ginia Aran, and a Rodian named Vreet Tha were to support me in removing the Trandoshans and snipers and then securing the area.

While I could've called them with me to engage Maul, that wasn't the plan. Bo, Osto and a handful of others knew my intentions though, and as I slipped from cover, the Force accelerating me toward the remaining Trandoshans, I sent them the signal.

As I reached the first walking handbag, far beyond him, I saw flashes of green and red. My blade slipped through the lizard, removing his head. I turned, ducking under the meaty arm of one of its companions.

These things wouldn't keep me from reaching Serra. While I might not be able to prevent my vision from coming to pass, and thus save Drallig, there was nothing in the galaxy that would stop me from saving Serra from Maul.

As anger rose within me, I fought to remain in control. I couldn't make the same mistake with Maul, that I'd made when I'd fought Vosa.

… …

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… …

(Vhonte's POV)
Vhonte watched as the reports from snipers in the forest and sensor probes buried in the plains during the night came regarding the size of the Federation army. She knew the droid army was going to be large, but what was approaching dwarfed the initial calculations. Given the rising dust cloud as the tanks and transports inched ever closer, she knew they were in for a real fight.

That dust cloud had been creeping ever closer for about an hour after the Gungans had stationed themselves about three kilometres from the forest. The Gungans knew they were in for a fight against a superior force, and, in a display of courage she could respect, had marched out anyway. Yet knowing you're outnumbered and seeing the massive droid army approach were two different things.

Many sentients would panic, possibly withdraw from the field of battle, or even abandon their posts, yet the Gungans stood. Through the Battlenet reports coming in, she could tell many were nervous, understandably so, but they stood their ground. Vhonte had fought in hundreds of battles in her time, even a few planetary wars when the Tsad Droten had chosen to turn their backs and ignore the suffering of others. Yet, she'd never face an army the size of the one the Federation was deploying.

Twenty thousand Gungans – some barely old enough to complete a verd'goten – stood ready for battle against an army that had them dwarfed. Over a hundred tanks and their carried squads of droids were being tracked, and Vhonte had no doubt there were more still to arrive, while four times that number of transports moved behind them. Based on the size of the larger armoured transports, and the smaller skiffs where the number of battledroids was confirmed, Vhonte placed the Federation army somewhere near two hundred thousand droids.

With that many enemy combatants, and an army that was willing to stand and fight it, Vhonte had found herself reviewing the battleplan several times since the first reports of Federation forces had come in. The Gungan warriors deserved better than to fall to droids in a battle of, in the grand scheme, minor importance. While some would die, the more that survived, the happier Vhonte would be.

A signal had come from Cameron Shan, announcing the assault on Theed was underway, and updates over the Battlenet confirmed the Federation forces in the city were far lower than initial reports had suggested. Why the Federation had felt a need to send such an overwhelming force to wipe out the Gungans, Vhonte didn't know, but at least it meant Shan's plan was working.

"Phase One." The words were spoken in Basic, as many in the battle couldn't speak Mando'a, and carried over the Battlenet. The various Mando'ade and Lokella'ade that were hidden in the forest confirmed receipt of the order and readied their positions. Vhonte's attention, though, was on the Gungans. She saw the orders reach the ears of the generals commanding the Gungan forces.

It took a few seconds, but the large Gungan force slowly moved. At the centre, four fambaas activated their shields, covering around half the Gungan force as the height of the beasts allowed the shields to extend further. The edges of the long battleline however didn't engage their shields. As planned, the groups there, and the four other fambaas outfitted in the plains with shield generators, turned.

As one would expect, the large beasts took time to turn, and the Federation army sensed, as expected, a chance to attack. Their tanks rolled forward, taking lead positions, and the squads they carried with them hopped off. As soon as the tanks were free of external droids, they opened fire.

Powerful bolts of plasma slammed into the Gungan shields, sending shockwave ripples cascading over the surface. While those attacks had no effect, those that targeted the retreating flanks of the Gungan army did. Vhonte cursed as Gungans died, being either directly struck by the blasts or being tossed around as the bolts tore huge chunks out of the plains.

Thankfully, the four fambaas at the flanks, along with over ninety per cent of the Gungans with them had already slipped behind the edges of the active shields, limiting the deaths in the opening salvo. That was due to signal jammers the Mando'ade and Lokella'ade had attached to the fambaas. Those prevented the tanks from getting target locks on the large beasts, though it did nothing for targeting their frames.

The droids had seemingly not concentrated their fire against the exposed flanks, which was a critical mistake Vhonte would never have made. Nor had they deployed snipers to target any commander in the Gungan army they could locate. Though if they wished to make such mistakes, Vhonte was more than happy to allow it and, when the later phases of the battle took place, to show the droids how a battle should be fought.

Once the last of the flanks of the Gungan army were behind cover, and they understood they weren't going to succeed in penetrating the active shields, the tanks ceased firing. The transports then slipped forward, oddly passing the line of artillery. If they weren't committed to drawing in the droids, Vhonte would've ordered rocket barrages and snipers to target the now unprotected transports as they began disgorging their contents.

"Shab'ni."

The curse slipped from her lips as reports from the Battlenet viewed the droids inside the armoured transports emerging. Two racks slipped out, with each holding dozens of droids, and then they were slowly lowered so the other two racks to extend and all the droids were then activated. Watching the count come in was an odd experience for Vhonte. Outside of astromech and smaller droids that could be programmed in certain useful ways, she had no love for droids. Save perhaps the akaan beskar'ad of Naast be Me'suum that Cameron Shan had restored and rebuilt with help from Bo-Katan Kryze, though that was a droid of legend with feats worthy of respect.

Individually, the Federation's battledroids were nothing. Yet, seeing over two hundred thousand of them deployed in one large force was something to respect. With so many combatants, they required if not respect, then consideration of the sheer volume of fire they could bring to bear.

A silent prayer was offered to Kad Ha'rangir: The ancient Mando'ade god of destruction, war, and change. Vhonte didn't place much stock in those gods, but with the size of their enemy, she would take any help she could. This battle, along with the ones currently raging in Theed and the one that should soon commence in orbit, would mark a moment of change in the galaxy. Not just for the Naboo and Gungans, or even the Tsad Droten, but perhaps, just perhaps, for her people.

It had been centuries since they'd gathered to fight a battle as impressive as this outside their civil wars. To many she'd encountered in her travels, while they respected Mando'ade, they didn't truly understand the power her people could project if united in a common cause. Yes, those in the Naboo system were but a tiny fraction of the hundreds of millions of her people spread across the stars, but they would help change the course of history.

As the unexpected moment of reflection on what this battle might well mean faded – at least beyond the credits she was getting paid for it – Vhonte refocused on the task at hand. The plan expected a large droid force, even up to this size, though she hadn't expected it to be called on. The change to Battleplan Variant Seven was sent to the unit commanders spread throughout the forest. The Gungan side of things, at least until Phase Eight wouldn't change, so there was no need for worry that the Gungans would have to adapt on the fly.

So long as droid fighter cover remained absent, Vhonte had little concern that they wouldn't win the battle. If the Federation deployed even a dozen Vulture droids as cover, then things would get concerning as they could've fire-bombed the gap between the Gungans and the forest. There was no tactical logic to not achieving air superiority if you could and Vhonte doubted even the Neimoidians, who only seemed to care about credits, were that tactically deficient.

Since there was no sign of such cover, Vhonte suspected Asta Ordo's assault had not only gone as intended, but that she, Kal, and those with her still held the Lucrehulk they boarded. Vhonte would've preferred to fight at Kal's side, as while they disagreed on many things, she deeply respected the man who was like an uncle to her and one of the rare sentients to whom she owed a life debt. Learning he was present for this battle had been a surprise for Vhonte, but a welcome one as she'd thought he'd retired from frontline work to raise his children after the death of his wife.

The real key regarding air cover would come when, or if, Naboo starfighters launched from Theed. Ideally, a squadron would carpet bomb the rest of the droid army, cutting them off from escape before accelerating into orbit. If that didn't happen, then contingencies were in place, and once launched, those fighters would move to engage the Vulture droids. The Naboo pilots knew they would be horribly outgunned and outnumbered, yet none had chosen not to fight, and that was worthy of respect.

A signal in her HUD alerted her that the Gungan flanks were now in position. "Phase Two."

As the droids formed up in front of their tanks, the shields at the front of the Gungan army were deactivated. Before the energy had even been fully cancelled out, the four fambaas at the rear activated their shields.

A snarl slipped from Vhonte's lips as she saw the rear rank was too far back. Their shields, as they reached the ground, didn't cover the front line of fambaas, instead stopping fractionally short of the beasts' tails. The plan had called for them to cover the lead fambaas, as now, as the four beasts turned, they were exposed; along with a considerable number of Gungans near them.

The Federation's command droids spotted this and the Battlenet alerted her to the droids shifting formations. The tanks moved forward, slipping into the gaps in the Federation's lines, and resumed their attack. Vhonte cursed whichever di'kut screwed up as a dozen Gungans died under the renewed assault. One of the fambaas stumbled as an explosion rocked the ground near its feet, and Vhonte readied a change in the battle plan. Thankfully, the large beast didn't topple, and a few more steps took all but its tail under a shield.

The tanks continued their barrage even as the front rank of fambaas slipped by those with currently active shield generators. She smirked as she saw the Gungan general from the front-rank gesture animatedly at the general for the rear rank. She made a note of that to speak with General Ceel after the battle, perhaps even share a bottle of Ne'tra Gal with him over the failure of his supposed commander.

What deranged logic had made the Gungan leaders decide that Jar Jar Binks should be the senior general was beyond Vhonte's reasoning. And as Ceel moved past Binks, the latter cowering in his saddle as if wanting to be anywhere but on the battlefield, Vhonte wondered if anyone would complain if Binks met an unfortunate end due to blaster fire once the true battle began.

As Ceel moved his fambaas into position – just inside the shields of the Bink's unit – the Federation's tanks ceased their attack. Even when they focused their fire on one specific shield, they couldn't make it fall, though the Battlenet reported that the shield had lost around twenty per cent power by the time the attack ended.

Instead of sending the order for Phase Three, Vhonte waited. If they moved now, then the tanks would quickly open fire and inflict casualties on the Gungans. What she wanted, and got half a minute later, was the droids forming up in front of the tanks once more.

"Phase Three."

The fambaas with Binks deactivated their shields, and a second later Ceel's shield activated. The droids didn't try to shift for their tanks, choosing instead to advance their ground troops toward the Gungan lines. That was a relief for Vhonte as while the shields could stand against the cannons on the tanks, each of them was rumoured to have missiles in their disk-shaped base. Those would, if outfitted even remotely correctly, have the firepower to cause chaos in the Gungan ranks, possibly even piercing the shields. Whatever the reason for the Federation not trying that attack, Vhonte was happy to let them make another mistake.

Blaster fire from the droid ground forces came in, but the Gungans were able to fall back in formation, those closest to the droids using large shields to cover themselves and their squadmates. Several large shields were attached to the rear of carts, and those covered the ammunition for the Gungan's artillery – which had yet to return fire – and the fambaas.

While the droid's blaster fire was nullified, Vhonte was glad they'd tried. The delay between the lead droids – all of which were marked with yellow stripes as the Jetii had said, four of whom were perched outside the hatches of their tanks – issuing the orders and them being carried out, was factored into the Battlenet. Those droids, along with any that relayed the orders, were filtered to the nearest sniper team until each had multiple targets. Vhonte had the senior droid assigned to her. While overall command for the droids was with the Lucrehulks in orbit, targeting those relaying the commands on the ground would cause chaos in the droid ranks once Phase Eight commenced.

However, there were still several phases to move through before then. Until it was time to attack, Vhonte kept careful watch. There was a chance the droids would alter their tactics before the Gungans had slipped back into the forest, or that the Federation wouldn't take the bait and advance into the treeline. The plan would adapt as needed, and as the droids passed the first marker for Phase Eight, Vhonte allowed herself a small smile.

Regardless of what happened between now and Phase Eight, the Federation army had entered strike distance and wouldn't emerge from this battle without significant casualties.

… …

---

… …

(Cin Drallig's POV)
Drallig slid to a stop as he rounded the corner of one building in Theed. In the path he and Serra were to take, stood a figure. Whoever they were, they wore a black cloak, one reaching almost to the ground. At Drallig's side, Serra tensed, her main lightsaber flying into her hand. Drallig's hand hovered near his, as he watched the figure. The Force was shifting, but it was unclear to Drallig as to why, bar that the figure intercepting them was the reason.


Slowly, the figure lifted its head, revealing a red-skinned Zabrak. Dark, foreboding lines at sharp angles marked its skin, and Drallig felt his hand grip his lightsaber, sensing the rising threat of the Dark Side radiating forth from the Zabrak, corrupting, twisting the Force as it tried to break it into a beast of burden.

Two gloved hands came up, pulling back the hood, exposing the horns of the species, however, Drallig's focus was on the Zabrak's eyes. Bright yellow pupils ringed in red stared back at him, the sign of one corrupted by the Dark Side of the Force, of one who'd given in to their baser, more emotional needs.

Drallig sensed the Zabrak's disdain in the Force. As if he and Serra were not the prey this Dark Sider sought. However, Drallig had no intent of allowing this corrupt individual to escape. There was a reason the Zabrak was here, and Drallig understood that the Force had guided him and Serra to this place to confront him.

[Master?] Serra's voice came into his thoughts, meaning she understood the Zabrak was a danger.

[Be ready,] he replied. He took a step forward, letting his robes slide from his shoulders. As they hit the ground, he unclipped and ignited his lightsaber. A moment later he heard both Serra's blades snap to life, and for the first time since chasing her to Naboo, Drallig was glad she was wearing armour. Yes, it was mainly durasteel instead of beskar such as that worn by many Mandalorians and Knight Shan, but against the clear threat in front of them, he would take what he could.

The Zabrak's lips twitched as if amused at their challenge, and as its robes slid to the floor, Drallig felt the Force shift again; the Zabrak once more exerting its will upon the Force. Drallig slid into a Soresu stance, knowing he needed to get a grasp on his opponent's style. He would expect Juyo, as that was the most aggressive of the forms, but until that was confirmed, he wouldn't be certain.

The Zabrak ignited its lightsaber, the callous, vibrant red blade common to the Sith surging into vibrant ruby life. What caught Drallig's eye was that extended hilt; one large enough for two hands to hold at considerable distance from each other. Knowing what he did about various lightsaber hilt designs, he surmised that the Zabrak preferred wide powerful strikes or used a double-bladed lightsaber. Given both Knight Shan and Serra had recently trained against training droids deployed with such blades, he wondered if perhaps the Force had alerted them to the threat of the Zabrak. That, however, was a discussion for after the Dark Sider was defeated.

[Trust in the Force to guide your actions, and look for your openings,] he said to Serra as he moved forward, taking the lead as they approached the Zabrak.

The Dark Sider sneered, once more showing disdain for them, though it didn't ignore the challenge Drallig's movements presented. Serra slipped to Drallig's right, hoping to flank the Zabrak, and jerked forward. The move was a feint, and as the Zabrak glanced at her, she pulled back and Drallig moved.

With elegant ease, his feet shifted, and he struck at the Dark Sider. However, the Zabrak was skilled, and its blade came up, blocking Drallig's strike. In the second before they disengaged from the bind, the Zabrak sized Drallig up, and Drallig felt the Zabrak now considered him a worthy fight.

Wanting to maintain the Dark Sider's focus on him, as the blade broke apart, Drallig rotated his wrists and pushed forward. The Zabrak blocked the thrust even as Serra moved in. Drallig knew the attack was too obvious, but as the Zabrak pushed his blade back and moved to defend against Serra, Drallig pressed forward.

The Dark Sider blocked Serra's attack, almost dismissively pushing her away, and then turning its blade with speed and grace to catch Drallig's attack before it could land. The Zabrak's lips twitched, and Drallig sensed that it was disappointed as if their attacks so far had been simplistic, predictable.

While pushing at the Zabraks' blade, Drallig slid one hand from the hilt, planning to use the Force to unbalance his opponent. However, before he could summon the Force to his aid, a warning echoed. He pulled back, creating just enough distance that as the second end of the Zabrak's blade ignited it failed to catch anything.

The Zabrak advanced, its blade moving rapidly. Drallig blocked a flurry of blows, each seemingly more aggressive and powerful than the last. The Zabrak stared at him and Drallig felt his presence pulse in anger. The Force moved around them, and Drallig placed his trust in it, letting it flow through him and guide his blade, catching the Zabraks' rapid flurry of angered strikes as much as needed to deflect and redirect them away from himself.

Yet, even as the Force guided him, Drallig knew he was being forced back; not by a Dark Sider, but by an actual Sith.

Drallig, like the rest of the Order, had believed the Sith were gone, that the last two were defeated and killed not long after the New Sith Wars. It seemed that, perhaps, that had not been the case. The question would be if this Sith served the same Order of Two that the last Sith encountered had, or if he was, perhaps, a member of a return to the older Sith orders that held hundreds, if not thousands, of members – rivalling the Jedi for numbers at various times in history.

Why this Sith was here, Drallig couldn't say. However, if, by the will of the Force, he was able to subdue it, Drallig intended to question it extensively as to the location of the other Sith before removing the threat the Zabrak posed.

The Force flowed through Drallig, guiding him as needed, and he allowed it to use him as a conduit to enact its will. Yet, for every strike deflected, for every blow avoided or countered, Drallig felt a gathering in the Force. The Sith was younger, stronger, and fuelled by its rage, attacking him with impressive speed and agility. Every time their blades connected, Drallig felt shockwaves – both physical and within the Force – rush through him, and each attack brought another small shift from Drallig, another centimetre of ground surrendered to the Sith.

To anyone watching, this engagement would appear as nothing more than a blur. Time had slowed for the pair, as the Force empowered them during this furious duel. The Sith's blade trailed over the ground, sending a wave of superheated dirt toward Drallig. Yet, before that even made it halfway toward him, not only had Drallig shifted to entirely avoid the dust, but he'd also defended against three dozen attacks from the Sith.

His attention on resisting the Sith's onslaught, Drallig almost missed the faintest of shifts within the Force that came from Serra. Without taking his eyes from his opponent, Drallig knew where Serra was, and wanting to give her a chance, he altered his actions. While each blow from the Zabrak was defended, the slightest of shifts in when and where his blade connected with the Sith's had them both turning.

As he sensed her closing in, Drallig backstepped a powerful slash, slipped to one side, and brought his blade around to strike at the Zabrak's hilt. The Sith reacted as Drallig expected, bringing his upper blade up, and pushing away Drallig's attack.

Yet, the opening that should've been created for Serra never materialised, and as Drallig batted away a return attack from the Sith, he was forced back. That created enough room for the Sith to pivot and intercept Serra. Drallig's Padawan unleashed a flurry of blows with her two sabers, coming in at angles that forced the Sith to continuously move. Yet, throughout Serra's assault, Drallig never sensed the Zabrak being truly pressed by it; almost as if he knew she couldn't harm him and was simply toying with her to prove a point to Drallig.

Wanting to assist his Padawan, Drallig moved forward. Yet, before he could take more than a step, he stumbled. Something had collided with his leg, and as he recovered almost instantly, he understood that during its last defensive move against Serra, the Sith had dragged its blade through the tiled ground, sending sections of it flying toward Drallig.

So concerned for his Padawan, Drallig had missed the faint warning from the Force of the action, and it prevented him from reaching Serra as the Sith turned her attacks back against her. Drallig moved again, wanting to reach his Padawan, yet he felt the Force move again. Before he was sure what it meant, he was lifted from his feet and sent hurtling back.

Turning in the air, Drallig dragged his blade along the ground, using the friction of the deep gash he left to slow himself and prevent the Sith's Force attack from slamming him into a wall. Steadying himself, he willed the force to aid him, and rushed forward, back toward the fight.

The dust from his blade scorching the ground remained almost stationary as he moved, his limbs straining as he willed the Force to push his body to its limits. Yet, even as he neared the fight, he knew he was too slow.

Serra was blocking each attack from the Sith, her body moving faster than he'd ever seen it do before. He sensed her determination, her desire to protect; to not allow the Sith to escape. Yet, for all that focus – of which Drallig was immensely proud – it was clear she was being forced back with contemptuous ease by the Sith.

Drallig understood the Sith was far beyond Serra, perhaps even himself, and as he rushed forward, he was reminded of facing Master Windu when he first developed Vaapad, when he'd come close to losing control of the power flowing through his strikes. Yet, whereas Vaapad was firmly rooted in the light, the Sith was thriving on the fury in itself, and, as much as Drallig wished it wasn't so, inside Serra. The Sith was using that rage, that fury to subsume the will of the Force to its desires, bending the Force to its will as it drove Serra back.

The Sith, sensing his approach, decided it had toyed with Serra long enough. The Force moved with it as the speed and ferocity of its attacks increased. Drallig was able to watch every shift in the Sith's body, every angle the two ends of its lightsaber took, yet for Serra it was too much.

A blow landed on her forearm, yet the Sith's blade was forced away. Drallig sensed the surprise at the strike not removing the limb and offered a small thanks to the Mandalorians for Serra's beskar bracers. Yet, the bracers could do nothing to prevent, after the Sith had swatted aside her blades, the Zabrak driving a knee into Serra's gut.

Serra doubled over, the blow driving the wind from her lungs, and her grip on her lightsabers weakened. The Sith's blade flew out, sending sparks flying as it sliced through Serra's shoto, though by the will of the Force and Serra's quick reaction, she retained her hand.

Yet, before Serra could attempt anything, even to recover from the loss of air, or Drallig was close enough his blade could do anything to distract the Zabrak.

Sensing the Sith's intent, Drallig called on the Force for aid. As the double-bladed red lightsaber came hurtling up to take off Serra's head, Drallig thrust a hand forward, sending every ounce of willpower he could with a powerful Force blast.

The blast slammed into the pair, and while Serra was only knocked to the side, the Sith was sent hurtling away.

Drallig raced to her side, sliding to a stop as he reached her. Yet, before he could check her condition, he felt the Force move. Even as he braced, the ground around them exploded and he was sent soaring away, showered in dust from whatever remained of the tiles they'd just been standing upon.

As he tumbled in the air, Drallig called on the Force for aid once more. Letting it guide him, he landed on his feet, sliding back to disperse the residual momentum the blast had imparted.

A warning from the Force accompanied a reddening of the dust around him. Knowing the strike would be too powerful to directly intercept, Drallig brought his blade up at an angle and moved. The main attack of the Sith's lightsaber slammed into the ground, sending more dust into the air, even as Drallig's blade came around, blocking the other blade.

Drallig held that blade in place trying to gain the bind, then sensing the pressure against his blade shift, leapt back, avoiding a sweep from the other end of the Sith's double-bladed weapon.

Using the small gap his jump had generated, Drallig glanced at Serra. She was slumped against a wall, and while he was too far away to see her condition, he could still sense her within the Force. Any further thoughts of his Padawan were ripped from his attention as a wave of darkness rippled through the Force, coming from the direction where Serra and Drallig had come from; from where Knight Shan was located.

Drallig knew that provided he survived this battle, he would need to speak with Serra and Knight Shan. The bond between them was greater than he'd known, perhaps going so far as to violate the Jedi Code. Any further concern with the bond between the pair was pushed aside as he sensed, entirely unexpected, delight from the Sith.

Drallig blinked, shocked to understand that the Sith wasn't here to help the Federation or target Queen Amidala, but was here for Knight Shan. When had Shan encountered the Sith, or what had he done to draw their attention? Such questions would have to wait though, as Drallig saw the Sith refocus on him.

As Drallig moved to engage the Zabrak, he knew that Shan had a small chance to defeat this Sith. Force, Drallig wondered if he could stop the Sith, and accepted, as his blade once more clashed against the Sith's, that today might well be when he became one with the Force.

If that was his fate, then he would accept it. However, before it came, he would do everything he could to defeat the Sith and protect Serra.

The Force answered his call for aid, and Drallig pushed forward, his blade moving with renewed speed and determination. The Sith blinked as it was forced back onto the defensive, and Drallig allowed himself a small smile at catching the Zabrak off-guard.

Sensing the Sith's intent to overpower his attacks, Drallig shifted. As a powerful, enraged counter-strike missed him, Drallig reached out with the Force. A second later, as his blade slapped away another attack from the Sith, he felt Serra's blade slide into his hand.

Moving even as the blade ignited, he slipped the arm low, and as the blade blocked an attack from the other end of the Sith's lightsaber, Drallig caught a whiff of burnt flesh.

The Sith stilled, anger burning brightly within it. Wanting to fuel that rage, hoping it might cause the Sith to overcommit, Drallig smiled. He was unsure how the battle would go, but he had drawn first blood and had every intention of that not being the only wound he left on the Sith.

… …

---

… …

(Vhonte's POV)
"Phase Seven."

Vhonte waited and watched as half of the Gungan army still outside the forest turned and slipped under the cover of the trees and the shields coming from the fambaas already in the forest. This was the last Phase before the battle would truly begin, and while it had taken longer than she'd have liked for the Federation to take the bait and close before Phases Five and Six, they'd committed to the assault.

The only flaw in the plan had come from General Binks when he shabla Phase One and left General Ceel's half of the army exposed to the Federation attack. That had cost the lives of over a hundred Gungans, but looking back on it, Vhonte suspected the slight mistake had worked to their advantage, giving the droids a false sense that the Gungan army wasn't as organised as it appeared.

That Binks had seemingly forgotten the plan that she, Dun Marod, and General Ceel had gone over with him a dozen times this morning, had her continually questioning the logic of making that particular Gungan anything but a figurehead. Still, the Gungan Bosses had left him in place, and once the battle was over, she hoped they understood the folly of giving Binks any true power.

As the last fambaas slid into the forest, disappearing into the shadows within, Vhonte waited, watching what the Federation did. So far, they'd continued to approach cautiously. Around sixty per cent of their droids had advanced with about a third of their tanks on the Gungans, with them only slowing or stopping once during Phases Five and Six.

The rear forces were split into two groups. About two-thirds of that group had closed halfway to the rest of the army along with most of the remaining tanks. The rest remained behind, guarding the troop transports. That had been one of the few times Vhonte had to compliment the enemy as it was precisely what they should do. Of course, because of that, it had been factored into the plans for Phase Eight.

The fact there were still clear gaps between the three elements of the droid army was another thing that worked in Vhonte's favour. As did the fact the droids in the front element, while moving in formation, were keeping close to the tanks. It had allowed them to fire when Phases Four through Six had been enacted, though Vhonte had been surprised when there'd been no attempt to attack during Phase Seven.

After watching the gradual withdrawal of the Gungan army, they may well have been waiting on air support to bomb the forest. That, thankfully, had yet to materialise, but with all eight fambaas that had walked out with the army, plus another four that had stayed inside the forest, all having activated their shield generators, the forces arrayed within were protected from such attacks.

Now the droids were left with three options. The first was bombarding the shields in the hopes they might fail. While the shields had shown strain under early barrages from the droids' tanks, inside the forest, the generators were working in tandem to produce their protection. That offered increased power to the shields and all but ensured the droids wouldn't punch through any shield without focusing every piece of artillery they had on it.

The second option, which Vhonte had already deemed unlikely given the droids had continued to advance as the Gungans withdrew, was for the Federation to turn and leave the field of battle. If they did decide to withdraw, then they'd have done so already as reports of battle in Theed must've reached the controllers in the vessels in orbit.

The third option and the one Phase Eight was designed for, was for them to keep advancing toward the trees. While there was a lack of logic in pressing an attack toward a clear defensive position, the sheer numbers the droids had, along with their orders seemingly being to destroy the Gungan army, meant it was the probable next step the Federation would take. And the one Phase Eight, and the various delegations of firepower Dun Marod had suggested, was designed for.

A predatory smile came to her lips as her HUD reported the front rank of droids advancing. That was corroborated by reports through the Battlenet from other locations of the Federation Army moving forward. Behind the front lines, tanks lifted their barrels and, as Dun had expected, fired deeper into the forest.

While their bolts destroyed trees when struck, it revealed the domes of the shields the Gungans had in place, and the tanks soon relented their assault. Sections of destroyed trees fell through the shields, showing their weakness to slow-moving objects. While a handful of Gungan positions inside the forest were destroyed by large sections of trees raining down, none struck a fambaas or a shield generator, removing one concern of this lull in battle that Vhonte held.

The Battlenet reported the edges of the droid army moving out, to flank the shields. Just as expected. Vhonte's smile turned dangerous as the bulk of the droid forces resumed their march forward, trickling over the Tracyn Briik. A quick check with unit commanders confirmed all primary and secondary targets were marked, awaiting her order to commence the battle. Shifting slightly, Vhonte lined her rifle up with the droid that was issuing – or relaying at least – the orders for the army.

Slow, rhythmic breathing was all Vhonte heard as her scope remained zeroed on her opposite number among the droids. She watched, still disbelieving that, with the connected network that must exist between the droids, the need for verbal relaying of orders was needed. Mando'ade hadn't been fighting like that since before the time of Te Kandosii Mand'alor four thousand years ago, yet the Federation, in a frankly di'kut display of intelligence, had decided their droid army needed to have orders relayed verbally.

Through the Battlenet she had complete access to every connected warrior on the battlefield, along with those in Theed – who were currently engaged heavily throughout the city while Naz Vizsla escorted Amidala toward the palace – yet the droids didn't, failing to use an inbuilt advantage they had. That made it another flaw in the Federation's doctrine that Vhonte and others were exploiting.

In one corner of her HUD, a number slowly rose, indicating the percentage of the lead element that had crossed the Fire Line. Thirty per cent soon became thirty-five, and then forty per cent. At the same time, a counter beside that slowly dropped, indicating how close the vanguard of the droid forces was from entering the forest.

At fifty per cent of the element having crossed the Tracyn Briik, they were ten metres from the forest. Gungans and others stood ready, at least five metres inside the treeline, ready to strike on her command. In various points, high in trees and using other natural elevated locations, snipers looked down their scopes, their spotters marking out the next set of targets. Those with rockets stood ready to unleash their first volley, striking the tanks in the lead element while Dun would have his finger over the trigger to show why the marker was termed the Fire Line.

Fifty-two per cent crossed the Fire Line, and they were eight metres out.

Fifty-five per cent, and six metres.

Fifty-eight and three metres.

Sixty per cent and one metre.

"Phase Eight," Vhonte said into the Battlenet as she squeezed the trigger of her rifle.

The bolt flew from the forest, travelling ten kilometres to strike the droid commander squarely in the chest. As the frame slumped into the tank, the field between the lead and second elements of the Federation army exploded. A wedge of earth, encircling the lead element, was torn from the ground. Those droids and tanks caught on the line were eviscerated, sections of tanks flying outward, striking nearby allies as everything along the line was engulfed in flame.

A second and then third bolt from her rifle targeted other command droids, joined by fire from other snipers. Rockets slammed into the lead element's tanks, depriving the now cut-off group of most of their fire support. Rockets then slammed into the second element's tanks; arcs of blue and white cascading across the hulls of the tanks as their systems failed and they crashed into the ground.

Not given a chance to process what was happening, large boombas from the Gungans slammed into the ground, spitting waves of blue plasma that fried the systems of any technology caught in their explosive radius.

As chaos fell on the droid forces, Vhonte sent signals through the Battlenet. The first was for fire to concentrate on any remaining active tanks in the lead element. If those broke into the forest and slipped through the shields, they could wreak havoc on the Allied forces. The second signal was to two groups of twenty warriors codenamed Galaar element.

… …

(Dun Marod's POV)
Dun Marod allowed himself to smile as the speeder he was on shot out of the forest. Two more speeders emerged just behind, and as he received confirmation that Validus' speeders were also moving, he chuckled. He might not be able to feel the wind on his face as they raced out of cover, surging toward the Federation's lines, but for the first time since the civil war, Dun felt alive.

As much as he enjoyed training new generations of warriors, he missed the battlefield, and the chance, perhaps, to die a death worthy of a warrior. Now, while he'd have preferred his return to battle hadn't occurred with another civil war for his people – the fourth in his lifetime, and sixth in the last century – he'd been content to die then.

However, it seemed his fate wasn't to die at the hands of a fellow Mando'ade, for which Dun was relieved. His people should be fighting others, proving their worth against sentients across the galaxy and reminding everyone of the might of the Mandalorians; not fighting over the scraps left behind after over a millennium of fragmented rule.

Dun didn't expect to die today; there was no honour in falling to such droids. The only advantage the Federation Army had was superior numbers, but as any good warrior knew, such an advantage was only critical when the commander was sufficiently skilled. The battledroids were designed to enforce Federation dictates, not fight major battles over planets.

That fact had been proven as the droids continued to advance on the Gungans, not once deviating majorly from their programming, which showed their controllers weren't skilled in warfare; something that Vhonte and he had designed their battleplan to take advantage of.

The Fire Line had destroyed close to Dun's highest projections, and severed the Federation Army in half, with that front element being pounded from fire inside the forest. Other Mando'ade, along with the handful of Lokella'ade that understood heavy ordinance were targeting the second element, destroying or (preferably) disabling every tank there while turning the droids to slag.

The Gungan boombas were remarkably useful for this. While the smaller hand-held balls were only capable of taking out unshielded droids, those launched from their catapults would disable a tank if they struck cleanly. Haran, even a partial strike was shutting down dozens of systems in the repulsor-lifted platforms.

As they neared the rear transports, Dun opened fire. Those with him in the skimmer, and those in the others did likewise. Droids were taken out with ease, while tanks were targeted with every piece of ion weaponry available. It had taken some work, but with support from Vhonte Tervho, Cameron Shan and Osto Ordo, Dun had convinced other Mando'ade to share their ion weaponry with the Lokella'ade; with the promise of reimbursement for any piece of ordinance used. That was going to cost Cameron Shan significantly as the Fire Line had taken most of the heavy explosives brought to the planet, but, as the transports began to turn, hoping to retreat, and the ion fire shifted to them, the purpose of sharing around the weaponry became apparent.

Attempting to take most of the tanks and transports intact was a brave call, but the thinking had been of the reward doing so would bring. The Federation would have to pay to recover each vehicle, and if they didn't others in the galaxy surely would. While the credits each warrior was getting from Cameron Shan for this battle were worth the effort, none would turn down the chance at a larger score, not even Dun who had little personal use for a large credit haul. Save perhaps, upgrading the weaponry of his armour.

As the first transports lost power and dug into the green fields, Dun examined the Battlenet. The front droid element was rapidly falling with the Gungan artillery shifting focus to the second element. There, smaller, secondary explosions had ripped through the formations of tanks, depriving them of fire support from each other, making them easy targets for those targeting them.

As another droid fell due to Dun's blaster, he allowed himself a small smile. While the droids were unworthy of being considered a worthwhile enemy, seeing so many disparaging forces ally together under a unified command lifted some of the melancholy that had held Dun's heart for decades. He didn't know if this alliance would last past the liberation of Naboo, but seeing so many Mandalorians from across the stars rally under a single banner was something he had long thought impossible.

However, if the chance again came to fight in such an alliance, Dun would be the first in line. While the Lokella'ade and the Gungans weren't Mando'ade, they were warriors. Haran, even the Naboo were proving that beneath their belief in peace and discussion if they had to, they would fight to protect what they held dear.

While the skimmer he was on slipped between the droid lines, those onboard targeting every droid and transport as they could, Dun wondered if the offer to train the Lokella was still valid. They fought for a worthy cause and working with them might bring Dun the chance to die in a battle worthy of his skill.

… …

---

… …

(Cam's POV)
I barely suppressed a scowl of annoyance as I slipped under the powerful – but to me – slow attack of a vibroblade. The lizard that didn't know he was nothing more than a pair of walking boots attacking me was the last of the squad I'd run into. Yet even as I cut down his companions, more mercenaries had emerged, including the return of the snipers from earlier.

While the incoming fire wasn't able to wound me, there was still a kinetic element to the bolts. Something that was proven when I stumbled as a sniper's bolt caught my shoulder. I'd been occupied removing the head of a Weequay and knew the armour could tank the blow, however, I had forgotten about the effect getting hit would have. Once I'd recovered from stumbling with a slight adjustment, I'd launched the Weequay's head toward the sniper dumb enough to hit me.

Watching the grey-skinned female duck before the head exploded inside the room she was using for cover had brought a smile to my face even as I ended the life of another annoying lizard. My lightsaber flicked out, deflecting another bolt back to its source even as I thrust my beskad forward with a passing step, grinning at the look of realization in the lizard's eyes I stepped past, ripping my blade through to send his steaming guts splattering to the floor as he tried in vain to hold them in.

Turning even as the walking belt fell to its knees, my lightsaber removing a hand that tried desperately to grasp at me, I moved forward. The HUD let me know the locations of the snipers – the grey-skinned lady having shifted rooms while I'd been finishing off the Trandoshan – and I raised my beskad, extending two fingers.

Bolts flew toward me as I walked forward in the square, though they never made it to me, slamming into the Force Barrier I'd raised to cover myself. Already the warriors with me were targeting the snipers as the last of the nearby mercenaries fell. I took a step forward, readying myself to rush to where Drallig and Serra were engaging Maul.

Fear rushed through the Force, knocking the air from my lungs and I fell to a knee as my barrier faltered.

"Serra."

Bolts slammed into the ground around me as my focus slipped and the Force Barrier fell as I understood where the rush of pain had come from.

One bolt crashed into my helmet, jerking my thoughts back to my location. With the rage I kept buried inside rising, demanding I strike back at those attacking me and my loved ones, I looked to where the bolt had come from. Snarling under my helmet, I extended my arm and clenched my fist.

The section of the building the sniper had been in imploded as I crushed it with the Force; the sniper inside had no chance to escape as the walls around him pulverised his body.

I blinked as I released my hold on the building and watched the debris tumble down what remained of the three-story building. Serra had been hurt, though not critically, and in that instant when I'd felt her pain, I'd lashed out. I'd regained control quickly afterwards, but it was a concern at how easily I could still lose control.

I'd done the same as what had happened with Vosa, and when Fay fell against the Vong, even though I thought I'd gotten a handle on my rage. Yes, I hadn't released it into the Force as a Jedi was meant to, but doing that was difficult when I remembered everything that had happened to me vividly. It was why I'd yet to even enter the same room as Vosa.

I had thought I'd gained control over that rage, to harness it only when I wanted, yet in an instant, when someone I cared deeply for had been hurt, I'd lost my focus. Though I didn't regret what I'd done to the sniper.

Refocusing on the battle around me. Time moved slowly as the Force Enhanced me; letting me watch bolts crawl forward. Stepped forward, I moved away from another sniper's bolt. That sentient and the droid squad that was emerging into the square to engage us were no longer my concern.

Maul was on the battlefield.

A second droid squad appeared this time directly in the direction I was going. I was among them before they could process it, my lightsaber craving its way through half of them in the time it took one to mutter a concerned "uh-oh."

I rushed past the remaining droids without bothering to finish them off. They weren't my target. Maul w…

My thoughts were rattled as the ground around me exploded and I was sent tumbling.

My helmet slammed into a wall, though the systems inside prevented me from getting concussed even as I shook it to clear the cobwebs. The HUD revealed I'd run directly into a unit consisting of two tanks and a dozen droids. They were likely moving toward the squad I'd left behind in my race to reach Serra and Maul.

I pushed myself to my feet, only to stagger as pain slammed into my gut, doubling me over.

Understanding Serra was hurt, perhaps fatally, I felt my control slip, and as I recovered and looked toward where the tanks were, I extended an arm. Brilliant crimson lightning, twisted and fuelled by my rage at Serra's pain, surged from my fingertips. Any droid caught in the fury's path was fried, falling to the ground in a blackened mess as the lightning slammed into the first tank.

The vehicle shuddered, sparks erupting across its frame before smoke slipped from the seals, and it fell to the ground.

The other tank fired, forcing me to shift focus. My palm opened, and the shell fired at me exploded, engulfing the barrier I'd generated in pulsating flames. As the flames receded, the few remaining droids with the tank paused, and while they couldn't see it, I smirked.

Focusing my anger, reining in my rage, I surged forward.

Another round exited the barrel of the tank.

A faint flick with my free hand forced the explosive downward. The round slammed into the ground, detonating as I leapt, the Force boosting my height far above the explosive shockwave that devastated the few remaining droids.

Surging over the peak of the shockwave, I bore down on the tank. My blade sunk through the barrel and embedded itself in the hull. Growling, I used both hands and wrenched the hilt to one side, leaving a deep, super-heated wound in the tank's hull. The sounds of the droids inside reached the armour's microphones even as I leapt again.

Landing behind the tank, I reached back with one hand and tore the hatch from its hinges. A thrust of my arm then sent a Force Blast inside the tank, shattering the droids and controls.

As the machine shuddered and then crashed to the ground – its repulsor-lifts failing – I turned. The Force propelled me forward as the tank exploded.

Somewhere just ahead, Maul was fighting Drallig. Serra was injured, but alive, which was perhaps the only reason I retained control of my rage. As the seconds ticked down until I reached my target, I did what I could to focus my anger, to not allow it to dominate me.

Around me, around Theed, the Force was flaring wildly. Whatever I was rushing to was, I understood clearly, a pivotal moment in the direction the galaxy would take. I'd changed the timeline enough that, if I didn't defeat Maul, then the original future was lost. That everything I'd done to prevent that future from coming to pass would be for nothing.

… …

---

… …

(Asta Ordo's POV)
While she understood the need for patience, after over a week of being forced to deal with the Neimoidian crew of the Saak'ak, Asta was fast approaching the end of what patience she had. It wasn't necessarily that the Neimoidians were snivelling, cowardly osik that would do whatever they were told for fear of their lives being threatened, or that they refused to even consider resisting. More it was that she knew a battle was raging below, but that it wasn't time yet for her and the warriors with her to do their part.

They'd heard the reports of the droids moving to meet the assembled Gungan army – which had been a surprise as the locals had managed to assemble nearly twenty thousand warriors – but since then, information had slowed to a trickle. She could see the plan being used by those on the surface but hadn't commented beyond ordering Captain Dofine to not send orders to alter the droid's instructions.

Dofine was perhaps the only Neimoidian that Asta didn't hate spending time around. That was because, unlike his crew, he appeared to have a backbone. Or at least enough of one to glare at her or whoever was keeping watch on the bridge when orders were given. The rest of the crew simply cowered and complied, sapping much of Asta's enjoyment of her new command.

The only ones onboard who hadn't accepted the new chain of command had been the remaining mercenaries. Those brief insurrections were handled appropriately, and having the crew place the bodies into the onboard incinerators ensured they remained docile. Asta knew that the Naboo, the Jetii, and the Tsad Droten might have issues with the summary execution and burning of captured combatants, but Mandalorians didn't. Leaving alive those who could be a threat in an active warzone was jare'la.

Yet, news of her actions here would reach the Naboo, the Jetii, and possibly even the Tsad Droten. However, the only reactions she was curious to see were those of Shan and Keto. While Keto's opinion was less important than Shan's, not least as she'd submitted to her Jedi Master's orders to not wear her helm, she was the first Jetii to become a Mandalorian in centuries. Shan's reaction though would go some way to determining if his path remained with the Jetii or if he would fully embrace the Resol'nare.

A beeping from the droid control station drew her focus back to the present, and she offered a silent prayer to the ancient gods that they could finally do something.

"Reports coming in from the army," the Neimoidian at the station began, a threat of panic in their voice. "Gungans have detonated a large section of the plains. Ten per cent of the army lost. The army is split by the explosions. Command and control failing."

Dofine had turned as the report came in, fixing Asta with an intense glare that might've concerned Asta if she'd been an adiik. "I assume this is the work of your people?"

"Fire coming from the forest," the control officer continued, stopping Asta from responding quickly. "Gungan and standard blaster fire."

Asta shrugged once the control officer was seemingly finished. "I honestly couldn't tell you if I wanted," she finally responded to Dofine, giving the Neimoidian a wide, shit-eating grin. When the reports of the Gungans marching out onto the plain had filtered in, she'd spoken with Kal and Baston. Kal, who was holding the power core, had detailed the basic plan he would work with. Baston, who was overseeing the transferral of the Saak'ak's computer core to transportable drives, had chimed with other suggestions. So far, everything that had been reported was in line with what they had expected.

"Reports of tanks and droids being disabled. Speeders assaulting the transports."

Asta grinned at the latest report, knowing it may well have cost her several casks of ne'tra gal with Kal as the veteran warrior had suspected Vhonte would push to capture as much of the Federation's army as possible. Asta had expected them not to pursue it simply because of the increased risk, but given many of the warriors on the planet below were fighting for credits and not for House Ordo, House Kryze, or a personal connection to Cameron Shan, she wasn't surprised to lose the bet.

Not long after taking the vessel, Asta had spent time reviewing why the Federation had targeted Naboo. The Naboo themselves were, to Asta's disgust, naak lovers. Yet, unlike the di'kute in their domed cities who claimed to be Mando'ade but were little better than osik-beetles clinging to the rear of the Tsad Droten, the Naboo had a backbone. They, led by a queen barely older than one who'd completed their verd'goten, were fighting for their home. That was worthy of respect.

The information the Federation had on the Gungans was exceedingly limited, dismissing them as primitives barely worth the cost of tibanna to exterminate them. As the droid army struggled to engage a Gungan army a tenth its size, it seemed that the report was – at least for Asta – amusingly lacking.

Watching the droids be led around like an adiik by their parent was enjoyable. It was made better by the fact that Dofine could see what was happening, but she prevented him from relaying new commands to the droids. To make sure the officer at the control station wasn't going to try anything, Nia Vizsla had her blaster pointed at the back of the Neimoidian's head. Given the original officer had tried to do that not long after the Saak'ak was captured, which resulted in their skull being split by a beskad from behind, and that their blood still marked the console, it was hardly surprising the current officer was only doing what they had to.

"However, it does sound like more than the work of just the Gungans," she said to Dofine, enjoying sticking the blade into his anger at not being able to do anything about the disaster for the Federation unfolding below. Of course, once she'd learnt about the transports lifting off from the capital, Theed, and other settlements, and what – or more accurately who – was onboard, she was going to take any chance she could to goad the Neimoidians.

"What other dastardly actions have you lot got planned?"

Asta's smile grew, and she leaned forward. "Nothing the likes of what you were doing. I hadn't realised that the Federation was so short of credits they needed to loot a planet and sell the inhabitants into slavery." Dofine looked away, suggesting he was unwilling to defend his actions, though that might be Asta misreading the alien.

When the first new transports had come up from the surface, Asta had ensured they were diverted to the Saak'ak. The Naboo and Gungans were fighting for their freedom, and when they won, they deserved to return to their cities and not find them looted by the Federation. Yet, when those transports had arrived onboard full of citizens from the planet below, it had taken considerable effort for her not to exterminate every Neimoidian onboard. And to ensure her warriors didn't do likewise.

Moving the understandably confused and scared Naboo, including children under ten, to comfortable quarters, and ensuring they were fed and treated by the vessel's medical droids had stemmed some of that anger. Though Asta had promised the others that, once the planet was free, the crew of the Saak'ak would answer for their crimes.

Dofine held her gaze for a moment before turning back to the viewscreen. Asta watched his fingers twitch, the anger at being unable to do anything on what had formerly been his vessel easy to see. Sensing the moment would soon be at hand, she slipped her helmet on, relieved to be back in the sealed protection of the armour and away from the odd smell of the Neimoidians.

With the battles in Theed and on the plains underway, it wouldn't be long until their phase of the liberation of Naboo could begin. Somewhere in the system, close to the planet and running silent was a small, modified cargo hauler. The pilot, a freelance hunter - of both bounties and big game - was waiting for a signal from her or the Naboo pilots. Once received, he'd relay it to the fleet. Currently, they should be at the very edge of the system. The hyperspace coordinates were fed to them by the gunships that had helped sell that the Naboo Royal Cruiser had carried Queen Amidala and not her and her warriors.

If all had gone to plan, then Torrhen and Adonai would be with them. Throughout the last civil war, engineers from both Clans had been working to bring long-mothballed warships online. However, Anzur Varaud had surrendered, giving over control of most of the factories and foundries under his house's control before the largest of those warships could be readied. Meanwhile, the accursed Kyr'tsad had been crushed.

Now, Asta knew that members and sympathisers of Kyr'tsad remained. However, with their bases slagged, their resources taken, and any ships they held destroyed or stripped for parts, no trace of their operations remained within Mandalorian space. If any wished to still follow their twisted ideals, they had been declared aruetiise by Torrhen, Adonai and Anzur Varaud.

Yet, even if the group were gone, Asta remained concerned they might return. While Adonai trusted Pre Vizsla, and Torrhen was accepting that Pre had not followed in his family's past, Asta couldn't bring herself to let go of her worries about the head of Clan Vizsla. Yes, he had proven himself in battle several times over, even saving her life during a skirmish on Hrthging, but his brother had founded Kyr'tsad, and it was the symbol of their house – the Darksaber – that was used as the rallying sigil of Kyr'tsad. Until that blade was found, and then crushed in the forges, she could never truly accept the group was gone, nor that Pre wasn't in some way involved with them.

"Captain! We've got reports of fighters launching from Theed!" The panic in the officer's tone sickened Asta, but knowing that her call to arms was almost here, she sent an alert through the Battlenet. Confirmation came in from Kal, Baston and the other team commanders scattered throughout the ship.

Dofine glanced at her, wondering what she knew of the intent of these fighters. "Flight vectors?" He asked the sensor officer. As Dofine spoke, Asta sent a command to Baston. The signal to the fleet was away and now it was just a matter of time until they arrived and ended their façade.

"Four banking toward the battle on the plains. The remaining sixteen are rising. Computer predicts an eighty-five per cent chance they are moving to engage us."

At this Dofine turned to her, making her chuckle. She could tell how much he wanted to launch the alert Vulture droids and order the trio of Lucrehulks to move, but he understood that, if he wished to continue breathing, such a command had to come from her.

The Federation's databanks had held specifications of the Naboo fighters, and while they were designed for form over function, from what Asta had learnt from those files, the Naboo fighters were still capable. While not as heavily armed as she would like, or as shielded, they were fast and nimble. Yet against the sheer number of Vulture droids even one Lucrehulk could launch, twenty fighters didn't stand a chance. And that was before considering the shields and firepower that each Lucrehulk had as supposedly unarmed cargo haulers.

"Well?" She said with a smile that Dofine couldn't see. "Aren't you going to launch defence fighters?"

Dofine held her gaze, wondering what exactly she was up to. Regardless of whether he determined anything or not, he soon turned to the sensor officer. "Hox, bring us closer to the planet and order the Vuutun Palaa and the Luuhan to move back to maximum control range. Nirtam, divert active squadrons to defend the fleet and launch alert fighters from all vessels to assist. Dremon, plotting firing solutions on the Gungan forces. Itab, if a need arises, assume control of planetary droid forces if the other vessels report connection difficulties from moving to higher orbits."

"I would suggest only assuming control of droids in the other cities," Asta offered. Dofine looked at her, wondering about her reasoning for helping. "With the fighting going on across the planet, it would make tactical sense to take control of the less critical ones, allowing the other vessels to focus on Theed and the battle with the Gungans." She moved forward, placing a hand on the back of Dofine's chair. "Unless, of course, you wish to focus your attention on protecting the Viceroy, in which case, assume control of the droids in Theed."

Truthfully, it was better if the Saak'ak maintained control of droids across the planet for what was to come. However, Dofine was intelligent enough to see through her logic there and would do the opposite, thus she gave him the more tactically prudent suggestion. How he responded was up to him.

The Neimoidian held her gaze, trying to determine her motives, which was another small mark in his favour. It wouldn't save him from the Reckoning coming for helping in the invasion of Naboo, the looting of its treasures and helping with selling the people into slavery, but it was something to count in his favour.

"You heard her," Dofine spat out as he continued to glare at her.

As the crew took on her advice, Asta laughed. While she couldn't feel the massive vessel move, a report from Kal stating more energy was being drawn from the power cores confirmed it. She let him know this was intended and to be ready to execute the next phase of the plan.

With little to do until the fleet arrived, Asta used the Battlenet to access datafeed from the lead squadron of Vulture droids under the control of the Saak'ak. Like most Mando'ade, she disliked droids, finding them an unworthy substitute for true warriors. The only droids safe from that determination were the basilisks of legend – though perhaps not for much longer – and the akaan beskar'ad of Naast be Me'suum that Cameron Shan had recently brought back online with help from Bo-Katan Kryze. That droid was one feared and respected by all Mando'ade, though each time she considered Cameron and Bo-Katan, she wondered when the pair might seal their relationship and unite their clans.

That was a matter for another time though, and as she watched the datafeed from the Vulture droids, she found some grudging respect for their designer. They were fast, agile, well-armed and shielded and moved in swarms that would overwhelm most fighters any species in the galaxy might deploy. Yet, as she watched, even massively outnumbered, the Naboo fighters were not only holding their own but inflicting damage on the Vultures at a three-to-one ratio.

While that was impressive, the Naboo were outnumbered close to twenty-to-one, and that was before the support wave of vultures reached them. Though she could admire their determination to fight and die for their home, their freedom. It proved the choice of Houses Ordo and Kryze to answer Clan Shan's call to arms was the correct one.

The Neimoidians were enjoying watching the Naboo die in what they regarded as a pitiful attempt to attack the Lucrehulks. Asta, however, watched stoically, her armour recording the face of every Naboo pilot who died. While she didn't know if the Naboo would return to their path of peace once they were free, on this day, they showed that, even if they had failed to prevent their planet from being invaded, they would fight to free it. That inside them beat the hearts of warriors. When the day was over, and the battle decided, their names would be remembered by all.

As she watched another Naboo fall in defence of their home, Asta considered their young leader. Queen Amidala had pleaded her case to the Tsad Droten, yet they had ignored her. Bending, instead, to the demands of the very group responsible for invading her world. While that had forced Chancellor Valorum from power, it had also lit a spark in Amidala.

Returning to fight for her people had inspired others to do likewise. Yes, most of the Mando'ade who had answered the call did so for credits. Amidala's speech to the assembled fleet before they had departed for the planet showed the fire within her, and Kal had remarked that while a politician, she had the heart of a warrior. Something that her people were showing they, too, possessed.

"Acquire firing solutions on the battle on the plains."

"Belay that," Asta snapped, her hand gripping the hilt of her beskad on the chance the weapons officer tried to enact it. She relaxed slightly as she saw Hox jam the muzzle of his rifle into the back of the Neimoidian Weapon's officer's skull. A squeak of terror escaped the Neimoidian and Asta grunted in annoyance at such weakness. "Just because I've let you deal with a false threat doesn't mean I'm going to let you do anything more."

Dofine blinked. "False threat?" she leaned forward, removing her beskad from its mounting at her side. "What have you done?" He asked as the blade caught his eye.

"Captain! Vessels dropping out of hyperspace near the planet's moon!"

Dofine's attention snapped to the viewscreen. "Display!"

Asta walked behind his chair, dragging her blade along the edge, letting the scrapping of metal-on-metal echo around the bridge. While it affected the Neimoidians, her warriors were all inside their armour, the sound muted and seen as little more than a hint of the carnage to come. As the screen shifted from images of the minor fighter engagement to display the arriving fleet, a smile that would've stopped the hearts of several of the Neimoidians came to Asta's face.

At the same time, every Neimoidian on the bridge – and throughout the ship – who wasn't either a senior officer – and thus carried ransom value – or important, died. Their bodies scorched as her warriors executed them and took true control of the Saak'ak.

"What is the meaning of this?" Dofine screeched as he leapt from his chair. "Ho…" his words died as Asta moved forward, the hilt of her beskad slamming into his skull. At the same time, the other senior officers were stunned or rendered unconscious similar to their captain.

She watched his body slump, the arm cracking as it caught and twisted awkwardly. The HUD confirmed it was broken but otherwise, the prisoner was alive. "Finally," she muttered to herself. Moving forward, she pushed Dofine away and eased herself into the command chair. It wasn't a wonderful fit, being designed for Neimoidians, but at least the ruse was over and true command of the mighty vessel was hers.

"Status?" she asked through the local Battlenet.

"Control of the vessel's droids confirmed," Nia Vizsla reported as she sat at the droid control station. "Awaiting your signal."

"Helm ready."

"Weapons primed, awaiting firing solutions."

The reports from Hox Brahl and Mun Xath confirmed the bridge was theirs. Reports team commanders confirmed the rest of the ship was secured, with all organic crew dead or incapacitated. "Open a channel to the Ne'tra Tal'ade," she said, the large command vessel at the centre of the combined fleet, a relic of a bygone era but still a terror of the battlefield, dwarfing those around it.

The display shifted, half showing the approaching fleet while the other showed her the command deck of the Black Blood Warrior. "Riduur, Adonai," she said to the two figures shown on the Ne'tra Tal'ade's bridge, her voice carried by the external speakers of her armour.

"Riduur. I assume the vessel is secure?" Torrhen asked with a slight smile. Neither he nor Adonai currently wore their helmets. From the way they stood, however, she could tell each had them under their arm.

"It is, along with any crew of value and those the Federation had taken from the planet."

Adonai growled. "What?"

"It seems that to recoup costs, the Federation was not only looting Naboo but selling the people into slavery." Both men bristled at the statement, their anger at the actions of the Trade Federation easy to see. "While we couldn't stop those sold before our arrival, nearly two thousand Naboo and Gungans are onboard."

"Do they know your vessel will soon go into battle?"

"Yes husband, they do," Asta replied, rolling her eyes at Torrhen; not that he could see the gesture. While Torrhen was a great warrior and an even worthier mate, he had a gentle heart and tried to protect those in danger when he could. "Many have chosen to help us man this vessel, and are now following the commands of my warriors."

"While we're pleased to hear that, perhaps we might keep discussions about their fate, and that of any prisoners you have, until after the battle," Adonai suggested. "What forces do you command?"

"This Lucrehulk was designed as a command vessel. While she has limited control of the droids below, over four hundred Vulture droids are at my fingertips. Along with firepower that likely breaks the Tsad Droten laws."

Adonai laughed. "That will be something I'm sure Alor Cameron and Queen Amidala will enjoy throwing in the face of the Senate. Assisted, I suspect by the new Chancellor: Sheev Palpatine of Naboo." Asta's brow rose. When the Senator for Naboo hadn't returned with Amidala, she had considered him a coward. However, it seemed he had used the chaos to become the new leader of the Tsad Droten. Not the actions of a warrior, but one of a shrewd politician. Asta would be wary of the man if she ever met him.

"The Saak'ak is ready for battle," she said, shifting the topic back to a relevant matter.

"Then let the battle commence." The signal from the Ne'tra Tal'ade ceased, returning the display to that of the approaching allied fleet.

"All stations, execute," Asta said through the Battlenet.

With full control of the Saak'ak her HUD reported the ship slowly turning, bringing her arsenal to bear on the other Lucrehulk. The droids under her command suddenly began turning on those around them. She knew that on the planet below, that might not matter and wouldn't save the droids from destruction, but in space, watching Vulture droids suddenly shift from targeting Naboo fighters to other droids, was a glorious sight.

However, a moment later, it was replaced by another.

The main cannons of the Ne'tra Tal'ade opened fire, slamming their power into the shields of the Vuutun Palaa. As the captains of the other Lucrehulks called out for orders from Dofine, the Mando'ade dreadnought pushed forward. Around it, the fleet added their firepower, swatting aside wings of vulture droids.

Asta allowed herself an amused smile as her HUD reported the Saak'ak's batteries opening fire.

For the first time since the Dral'Han, the galaxy would be reminded of the might of the Mandalorians, and the power of a dreadnought built by them.

… …

---

… …

(Serra's POV)
With a groan, Serra lifted a hand to her head. It was hard to focus and there was a ringing in her ears. Yet, all that failed to matter as her vision cleared and she saw lightsabers clashing not far from her. Green whirled around, engaging a far longer blade of red and she blinked, her mind refocusing as she realised her Master was engaging the Sith.

Wiping her forehead and eyes, she stood slowly, ignoring the blood on her sleeve as she watched the Sith. She'd known he was Sith before she'd arrived on Naboo, known that if she didn't do something, Cam would die to the Zabrak's blade. The visions the Force had granted her had been clear in that. Yet, she'd not expected her Master to chase after her; or at least, not arrive here before she and others could help Cam defeat the Sith.

She knew her feelings toward him, and others like Bo, were stretching the Jedi code, but Serra knew that Cam was important. There was a darkness growing in the galaxy, a fact proven by her Master currently engaging what may well be the first Sith seen in a millennium. Serra wasn't sure if Cam was the one who'd bring light to the galaxy, but she knew he was important to prevent darkness from swallowing every flicker of light.

Now, Serra didn't place any focus on the dealings of the Senate, or indeed the wider Republic, but she knew enough to see that there were big problems. Potentially ones so massive that repairing them before the darkness engulfed the galaxy might be impossible. If that was the case, then Serra knew that order and peace would need to be restored. While she felt she had a role to play in that, she knew Cam had a greater role.

Her visions of the future, of which she'd spoken to no one as she didn't know who to trust with them, showed her at his side. Perhaps not as close as others, and if that was the case she could accept it, for the greater good. However, Cam and another – a Human with blond hair if her visions were accurate – were critical to saving everything.

Serra understood that visions couldn't be entirely trusted, but she felt that within what she was being allowed to glimpse were paths the Force wanted the galaxy to take. That Cam had to survive Naboo. Which was why, as her Master forced the Sith back with a move she'd never seen before, she was glad he was here.

Without Master Drallig, she would already be dead, and Cam would probably also die at the Sith's blade. However, it was also clear that the Sith was challenging her Master, the Order's Battlemaster. While she wasn't sure if or how she could help, she wouldn't stand by and do nothing.

Using the wall behind her to steady herself, she stood and reached out a hand to summon her remaining blade. The shoto blade had been destroyed before she'd been knocked back, and without it, she felt as if a piece of her had been lost. She could still sense the crystal, so once the Sith was defeated, she would recover that and rebuild the hilt, but not having it in her hand, not feeling the Force flow through her and the blade as they moved as one, left her empty. Until then, she'd have to adapt and use her remaining blade, which had been closer to her Master than her when she'd recovered.

Once upright, and as her Master blocked a flurry of blows from the Sith, Serra called the Force for aid, allowing it to heal and numb her wounds. The speed at which Master Drallig and the Sith were duelling was impressive, flickering in and out of her ability to track

She felt she could make a difference, but she had to pick her moment to re-engage, otherwise, it would only lead to her and her Master falling, leaving Cam alone to face the Sith.

If Master Drallig could sense her thoughts now or was able to focus on them, she suspected he would be pleased. When he'd first taken her as his Padawan – one of Serra's proudest days – he'd spoken of her greatest failing; that of rushing in without thinking, without analysing a situation. She knew she still did that, particularly where her friends were concerned, but she felt she'd improved greatly at tempering that failing in herself. Master Drallig had spotted her improvement as well, commenting on it regularly after their spars. Now, she still lost to him, as was to be expected of any Padawan or young Knight, but she felt she would be able to push him within the next few years. As Master Drallig said, her heart was in the right place, but she needed to temper that desire, that emotional failing, to rush in with wisdom. To place herself under the will of the Force and allow it to guide her as needed.

Taking that moment to centre herself, she understood fully that the fight she was about to rejoin was beyond her. Perhaps it might even cost her life, but it was the right thing to do. That the Force wanted her here, at her Master's side, to engage the Sith. As Master Drallig moved back, avoiding a strike from one side of the Sith's double-bladed lightsaber, she waited and watched, seeking the moment the Force wished her to return to the fray.

Cam was approaching, and she could sense the rage in him. Part of her was delighted that the rage he displayed, which echoed out in the Force, was because he'd sensed her in danger. However, the way he seemed to not release that anger, that fury; instead drawing on it concerned her. Years ago, he had taught her that emotions could help a Force user, but she'd been uncertain of those lessons for a while. Yes, emotions like love and joy could empower a Jedi, but the risk of sensing one you cared about could easily lead to passion, anger, and rage. As she sensed in Cam.

Perhaps it was that danger, that difference about him, that had drawn her to him. That had allowed them to become friends and more. Yet, she couldn't help but fear what it could lead to if he failed to control his emotions. She would do what she could to guide him, to help him learn, but she understood and accepted that perhaps he never would fully gain control over his emotions. And that, whatever the future brought, they were tied together in the Force.

Sensing movement in the Force, she let the second of reflection pass and moved forward. Soon Cam would arrive, and with her and her Master, he would defeat the Sith. All she had to do was survive until he arrived, and then ensure he emerged victorious from the battle.

With the Force on her side, she moved forward, sensing her moment. The Zabrak had its back turned, focused on the rapid, flowing strikes her Master was unleashing. Her lightsaber ignited as she drew the Force into her, and called upon it for aid.

As time seemed to slow, as she was able to see individual flakes of dust seeming to hover in the air, the blades of the pair she was rushing toward moved in a blur. Master Drallig was attacking with controlled aggression, his blade seemingly being in three places at once. Yet the Sith was matching his attacks, almost dismissively so.

She almost stumbled as the Force shifted around them, as the Sith bent it to its will, and turned her Master's attacks back on him. While she closed in the pair, and Master Drallig gave his all to block the Sith's renewed furious attacks, Serra sensed something in the Force. Something dangerous, powerful, and familiar. Somewhere there, or perhaps deep within herself, a whisper told, almost demanded, that she take control of the Force. If she wished to save those she cared for, she had to use her power to defeat the Sith.

Leaping into the air, her blade rising high, she ignored the call of the Dark Side. It wouldn't, it couldn't grant her what it promised. Her leap reached its arc, and as the blades of the two other Force users clashed ferociously, she fell: her blade aiming for the Sith's skull.

However, as she neared, the Sith sensed her approach and turned. One of its blades blocked her strike, and it grinned at her. As her feet touched the ground, she understood that the Sith was unimpressed with her attack and that he was stronger than her.

Drawing on lessons with Master Ti, she slid back, letting the Sith's strength guide her in a way she wished. Like with Cam, she understood she'd never match the Zabrak in strength – and perhaps raw power – but instead had to rely on her other attributes. To flow and move with grace and speed, to slide around a larger, stronger, more dangerous opponent.

In the milliseconds that had passed since she landed, she moved. Her body shifted to one side, using the Sith's aggression to turn her even as her blade slid down the Sith's: aiming for his hilt. The Zabrak turned its wrist, avoiding her attack and flowing into one of its own; yet she was ready. With the Force flowing through her, guiding her, she leaned back.

Her vision turned red for a fraction of a second as the Sith's blade swooped overhead. Flickers of plasma in the blade were clear to her as it passed by, but a few stray ends of her hair burnt was all the damage the attack inflicted. Even as the Sith's blade passed over her, her blade was moving, coming up and around and the Sith was forced to lift a leg to avoid losing it. She understood her attack had missed by a wider margin, yet the fact the Force was with her renewed her conviction.

Before the Sith could attack her in turn, Master Drallig re-engaged, drawing the Zabrak's attention. Her Master had sensed her attack, and while he knew it wouldn't touch flesh, he used it, and the slight distraction she created, to his advantage.

The Sith had to block a flourish of strikes from her Master, though as their blades moved and Serra readied herself to rejoin the battle, the Zabrak turned the tables. Quicker than Serra could follow, he turned a defensive parry into a thrust, forcing her Master to surrender momentum. The Sith's twin blades whirled around, seeming to make the very air bleed, and her Master was forced to parry, deflect, or avoid every move the Sith made.

That was the moment Serra was ready again, and with the Force guiding her blade, attacked. The Sith sensed her approach and pulled a hand from the hilt of its blade. Master Drallig, sensing the shift in the force, leapt back, his blade moving while airborne to protect him from a savage thrust of the Sith's lightsaber. The ground where her Master had been standing exploded, ripped apart by the Sith crushing the tiles with the Force.

The Sith's blade came around rapidly, but with the Force as an ally, Serra was ready. When the blades clashed, the energy within each battling for dominance, Serra was shifting, turning. Her blade slid off the Sith's, and she went low, batting away an attack from the other end of the Sith's lightsaber, and then thrust forward.

To avoid being stabbed, the Zabrak was forced back. Its blade came down, slapping hers away contemptuously. However, she'd felt this coming. Rolling her wrists, her blade turned around the Sith's and flicked forward. The attack failed to land, but she was already moving, sliding back to avoid the other end of the Sith's lightsaber.

Her blade came around covering her from attack, and as it was jarred back by the ferocity of the Sith's move, one hand slid from her hilt and crashed into the Zabrak's shin. Any joy she felt from landing a blow against the Sith was short-lived as the Force seemed to buckle in on itself. Before she could brace, she was sent hurtling away, a tidal wave of Force energy slamming into her.

Rolling to control her tumble, she steadied herself just in time to have her vision turn red.

Her blade moved rapidly as she gave herself over to the Force, letting it guide her where she needed to go. Her body shifted, adapting to the will of the Force, sliding to one side to avoid an attack from the Sith even as her blade moved around and deflected another.

Behind the Zabrak, she sensed her Master moving, rushing to her aid, but her focus remained on the Sith, herself, and the Force. If she didn't, then her Master wouldn't rejoin the fray before her life was extinguished.

Shockwaves rippled through her bones each time her blade met the Sith's. The attacks came in faster than she could process, yet with the Force as an ally she was able to evade or deflect the strikes. Yet, she knew she was being driven back, losing ground and energy with each move, each clash shaking her very core. And under it all, still present and ever offering, was that small nagging voice, begging her to reach out and take the power she needed, and in her desperation, she couldn't deny the whispers. She was slowing, struggling to meet his attacks, to simply survive. Even with the Force guiding her, it wasn't enough. She needed more time, more skill, and more power.

As that realisation came to be, the Sith's blade slipped past her defence. Plasma crashed against metal, and sparks flew. She pulled her arm back, the controls on her vambrace ruined by the Zabraks' blade. If not for the beskar of the gauntlets, she'd have lost her hand.

The Sith grunted in annoyance at being denied her limb and attacked with renewed fury. Every strike she blocked felt as if it was cracking her bones, every evasion was so close what remained of her robes were gone, the durasteel of her armour melting from the lightsaber as it grazed across the surface.

Another attack broke through, crashing against her foot. Again, the beskar she had saved her limb, as it did a third and fourth time. Serra was growing desperate, adapting by necessity the beskar she wore into her defence. She knew it couldn't last, that eventually, the Sith would strike her somewhere not protected by beskar, but he was now moving so fast she simply couldn't move fast enough to keep up with even half his attacks.

Pain lanced through her side, and she stumbled back, avoiding a swipe of the Zabrak's lightsaber that would've taken her arm. She hissed, understanding why it hurt. Either the super-heated durasteel or the plasma of his blade had burnt her stomach. Her blade came around, seeking to block the Sith's next assault, but she was slow.

The strike against her blade staggered her, a hand slipping from her hilt to stabilize herself. Another strike against her blade, and it was jarred from her hand, the blade diffusing moments after the hilt slipped from her gasp.

The Force screamed a warning, and trusting it she leaned back. The heat of the Sith's blade flashed past her neck, seeping through the underweave, and making it clear how close she'd come to losing her head. As she kept moving, desperately avoiding strikes she saw one of her braided ponytails fly away, the Sith's blade having caught it in the last attack. Even as she processed that, something jammed into her gut.

She stumbled back, falling to a knee. Glancing up she saw the Sith looming large over her, a satisfied look in his eyes as his blade swirled around. Accepting her fate, her head dropped. "I'm sorry." The words slipped from her lips, hoping her Master and Cam understood she'd tried. That she'd only come here to help.

The red blade swooped down, overpowering her vision, only to be snuffed out by a vibrant green.

Looking up, warmth filled her heart as she saw her Master's blade blocking the Sith's. Determination in the set of his face and eyes. Her Master thrust out a hand, knocking the Sith back. He glanced at her, relief clear in his eyes, before rushing to re-engage the Sith.

She pulled herself to her feet as the pair clashed. Their blades moved rapidly, flying around and turning the air around them into spheres of green and red, shifting to white where the blades clashed together. Serra's eyes widened as she felt her Master drawing heavily, moving at speeds on par with any member of the High Council. The Sith, however, was matching her Master strike for strike.

Attacks of Djem So were countered and then returned with movements that she'd never seen, and it pained her to admit the Sith was good, if not brilliant. He standing his ground as the Jedi Order's Battlemaster used every nugget of knowledge he had gained over decades serving the Force and the Order.

Yet through it all, she sensed the Force shifting, twisting, twirling. The outcome of this battle was already decided, and as she realised the victor, she found herself racing forward. Her lightsaber flew into her hand, the blade igniting as the missing part of herself returned to her grasp.

Barely a metre from the pair, the Force lurched violently, and she stumbled, slipping to a knee.

Her eyes widened as the pair stopped, the red light of the Sith's blade piercing out from her Master's back. She watched in horror as Master Drallig's blade fell from his grasp, the hilt falling so slowly as time seemed to stop.

Looking deep into her master's eyes the Sith seemed to be taking satisfaction in his victory and in the next second the blade was ripped free of her Master's chest and, with a brutal back swipe, slashed his body in half. As Master Drallig's body slumped to the ground, his head turned to her. For a moment where time seemed to stop, his eyes found hers and with his last thought, he reached out to her.

Her mind did likewise, not wanting to lose the person closer to her than any other; someone she considered a father. Yet, before she could reach his thoughts, the light faded from his eyes, and she felt him become one with the Force.

The Zabrak stalked toward her, its blade scraping the ground, sending dust flying around menacingly. Serra looked at him, seeing the coldness, the contempt in the Sith's eyes. Not only did he not consider her a challenge, but he was also already looking beyond her. Toward his true target. Toward Cam.

Serra's gaze returned to the lifeless body of her Master, of his lightsaber that lay unpowered next to his dead hand. He had taken her in and trained her for over five years. And this Sith, this monster, had ended his life simply because she had come to this planet, and Master Drallig had followed.

Finding the voice inside her, the one offering her power, she stood. Her hands opened and the twin blades flew to them. Her blade and that of her Master.

The Sith paused, its eyes widening slightly as she took control of the voice, of what it offered.

The Zabrak had taken her father. He would not take the only person left that mattered to her.

With the rage of her loss, and the threat of what was at stake, swirling in her, the Force reacted to her. It did as she wanted.

The power flowed through her as she rushed toward the Sith.

He braced, readying himself for her assault.

The anger, sorrow, fear, fury, everything whirling around inside her became focused on the Sith, and with it corralled she screamed a challenge at him.

And the Force screamed with her.

… …

---

… …
A/N: If you have them, enjoy the holidays, and say goodbye to Battlemaster Cin Drallig.
He was a good Jedi.
… …
This story is crossposted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of our Own, and Royal Road.
You can find me (and the backroom team who help with this) on Discord at:
For this series: Heart of the Force
For general chaos/Gamer stories: Shiro's Gaming Omniverse

If you wish to - for all but the lowest level - get 2 months of advanced drafts and more for all my works, you can consider supporting my work at:
Patreon: USSExplorer
SubscribeStar: USSExplorer

---

Regardless if you join the discord or support my writing, I hope you enjoy the story and suggestions, valid criticisms, and ideas are always welcome.
And of course;

May the Force be with you. Always.​

 

[some one]

I feel like Drallig was done dirty here , like this is the guy that put up a fight against dearth Vader when he stormed the jedi temple , the battle master of the jedi order as in one of their best fighters after Window period , like Maul taking down Qui Gon after a lot of back and forth that left him tired enough for Obi to finish him I can buy as Qui Gon wasn't the most combat spec'd of jedi and was easily tired by his fighting style and age but the temple's battle master

 

[USSExplorer]

I feel like Drallig was done dirty here , like this is the guy that put up a fight against dearth Vader when he stormed the jedi temple , the battle master of the jedi order as in one of their best fighters after Window period , like Maul taking down Qui Gon after a lot of back and forth that left him tired enough for Obi to finish him I can buy as Qui Gon wasn't the most combat spec'd of jedi and was easily tired by his fighting style and age but the temple's battle master

Click to shrink...

Sigh

Maul, before being sent after Padme, defeated Anton Bondara (so much so that Bondara tried a murder-suicide move to take Maul out with him and failed) and he was the Battlemaster before Drallig.
Maul was trained as a Sith Assassin to target and kill Jedi, even those on the Council.
What we see of Maul in the movie (TPM) doesn't come close to touching on what he was capable of, and endured, in the EU.
Maul was a serious threat.

Drallig, while skilled, was not an active combatant during the Clone Wars, choosing to focus on the defence of the Temple.
That fight with Vader was back to the wall, no holds back, protect the Younglings/Initiates at all costs sort of fight. in those situations, most people rise to the occasion and fight better than they ever have before.
Plus, Drallig had seen Anakin train regularly over the last decade. While fresh in the Dark Side, Anakin's style was still the same, meaning Drallig knew how to fight and counter Anakin. Yet he still lost.

He has none of those advantages against Maul.

 

[some one]

Sigh

Maul, before being sent after Padme, defeated Anton Bondara (so much so that Bondara tried a murder-suicide move to take Maul out with him and failed) and he was the Battlemaster before Drallig.
Maul was trained as a Sith Assassin to target and kill Jedi, even those on the Council.
What we see of Maul in the movie (TPM) doesn't come close to touching on what he was capable of, and endured, in the EU.
Maul was a serious threat.

Drallig, while skilled, was not an active combatant during the Clone Wars, choosing to focus on the defence of the Temple.
That fight with Vader was back to the wall, no holds back, protect the Younglings/Initiates at all costs sort of fight. in those situations, most people rise to the occasion and fight better than they ever have before.
Plus, Drallig had seen Anakin train regularly over the last decade. While fresh in the Dark Side, Anakin's style was still the same, meaning Drallig knew how to fight and counter Anakin. Yet he still lost.

He has none of those advantages against Maul.

Click to shrink...

Ok , fair enough , Legends lore trumps any other sort , so I am convinced

 

[TheFallenJedi66]

A/N:
As always, thanks to those helping me write and plan out this story and checking it for continuality and logic errors.

This chapter was released at least 2 weeks ago to my Patreons (with them seeing a draft version around 2 months ago) and on the story's Discord server (in GDoc form) about a week ago.
Links for both are at the end of the chapter.
Hopefully, all the little mistakes have been found and removed.

This chapter has multiple POVs.

---

The Phantom Menace 4
... ...​

(Vhonte Tervho's POV)
If someone had told Vhonte a month or even a week ago that she'd be fighting to defend a planet inhabited by naak-loving fools, she'd have assumed she was being paid an extraordinary amount. After laughing endlessly at the destruction of the so-called 'New Mandalorian' faction during her people's most recent civil war, she wanted nothing to do with anyone who held similar ideals. Yet, that was where Vhonte found herself, though as she watched the lead elements of the Great Gungan Army slip from the cover of the forest onto the plains that allowed clear passage all the way to the city of Theed over a hundred kilometres away, she couldn't say she disliked where she found herself.

Unlike many in this battle, she had no connection to those responsible for the call to arms. Instead, she had come for the promise of credits. Cameron Shan was an unknown, and a curious one at that. She had heard the stories of the Mando'ade Jetii, viewed the recording of his verd'goten, and even seen the skull of the great beast that Adonai Kryze had displayed, yet she knew nothing of him personally. Nor did she care to. She was primarily here for the credits, as were many others, though some few were here at the word of Torrhen Ordo or Adonai Kryze, or to see if the descendant of Naast be Me'suums was everything others claimed him to be.

To be clear, she respected all three to varying amounts, with Torrhen Ordo being the worthiest of respect. Unlike Adonai Kryze he hadn't aligned with the dar'manda who licked at the feet of the Tsad Droten, and unlike Cameron Shan, didn't try to claim a position of power among their people while standing with the lapdogs of the Republic. None were truly worthy of any loyalty from her, as none had been since Jango Fett had abandoned his calling.

Her father had served with Jaster Mereel in the Haat Mando'ade, and when Jaster had fallen, and named Jango his heir, Vhonte's father had been ready to follow him as Mand'alor. However, after the disaster on Galidraan – which had taken the life of Vhonte's father – Jango lost faith in their people. Once Tor Vizsla was dead, Jango withdrew from Mando'ade culture, becoming a feared bounty hunter. While Vhonte also worked for the Guild, she had never been Mand'alor, never abandoned her people as Jango had, and his actions had cost her much of her hope that one day their people might reunite under a strong leader and once again threaten the stars themselves.

Yet, if not for those events, Vhonte wouldn't be here now, helping a planet and people she'd have dismissed as deserving of being invaded free itself. Nor see that, when they had to, the Naboo were willing to fight for their home.

Vhonte would have preferred to have fought in the battle for the Lucrehulk, getting a chance to serve once more alongside Kal Skirata. Failing that, if she had the power to ensure it, she'd have gone with the strike teams to Theed, where the true battle for the planet would take place. However, she, along with Dun Marod and others, was tasked with integrating Mando'ade with the other warriors who would fight in the battle on the plains, and distract most of the forces of the Trade Federation.

Which, after discovering the initial Gungan plan, was a good thing.

Vhonte was shocked that any army would consider simply marching on an open field and engaging a numerically and technologically superior army as anything less than osik. And that was before considering that the Federation would have total air superiority if the Naboo fighters couldn't launch in time to engage the Lucrehulks.

Yet, that the Gungans knew all this and were still willing to march out to their deaths, to die defending their home, was something Vhonte and other Mando'ade could respect. That was why she and Dun had argued for hours with the Gungans – enduring their odd butchering of Basic that almost made her miss listening to a Hutt – to convince them to alter the plan.

They'd hoped to arm the Gungans with modern blasters, as over a hundred had been liberated from droids while moving through the mountains, but the Gungans had refused. They would face the battle with the weapons of their people, no matter how ineffective wooden spears may be against droids, riding beasts of burden into battle.

And yet, for all the primitive appearance of the Gungans, they had some technology. Shield generators were carried on the backs of large local beasts called fambaas, and behind them, dragged by the same beasts the Gungans rode as mounts, ammunition for their siege weaponry. Spheres of plasma, harvested from deep in the planet's core – which explained why the Trade Federation had chosen this world – would be launched at the droids, potentially disabling anything they struck. Up to, and including, tanks and troop transports.

The strike teams, or at least the majority of them, for Theed, would move to their target via submersibles that while appearing organic, were marvels of organic technology that allowed the Gungans to traverse the underwater tunnels that lined this world – even passing through its very core. From what she had been told, the core was inhabited by beasts comparable to the mythosaurs of her culture's history. Vhonte respected the Gungans' bravery for travelling routes controlled by such creatures, and if the chance arose to hunt these beasts, she would be interested in doing so. While she didn't enjoy game hunting as much as others might, the appeal of challenging, and killing an apex predator was never to be overlooked.

The Gungans were, even if they lacked modern technology, warriors, and that earned them Vhonte's respect; and that of the other Mando'ade, and the Lokella'ade that had also come to fight for Naboo. Haran, if not for the speech given by the Naboo's leader, and the unexpected warrior's spirit the Naboo displayed, Vhonte would've considered the Naboo unworthy of the effort to save them, credits be damned.

With their world in danger, the Naboo had stepped forward and placed themselves into the firing line, and all that started with Queen Amidala. On the way to the rendezvous, Vhonte had watched the Queen's appearance before Tsad Droten with Kal and others. That the same, small, seemingly insignificant child was the same as the one who spoke last night was something Vhonte was still finding hard to reconcile.

That she had, after seeing the failings of the Tsad Droten, decided to return home and fight was unexpected to Vhonte, and impressed her. That feeling grew as the forces called for by Cameron Shan answered the call to arms. Queen Amidala was willing to fight for her home, and her people, and after last night, it was clear her people would follow.

That speech, one that challenged the Tsad Droten, and all those fools who placed blind faith in Coruscant, was worthy of a leader; one who would fight on the front lines for their people. Vhonte held no love for the Naboo, but seeing how their leader had inspired them, the Gungans, and the others here to fight, Vhonte saw the spark of the Warrior still resided in the Naboo. Amidala's speech, recorded by Vhonte and others, would soon make its way throughout the Galaxy, and show the masses the flaws of the Tsad Droten. It would show them that they had been deceived; that the Tsad Droten only cared about themselves and not the people they claimed to serve.

Thus, while she was here for the credits, and that would be true no matter what anyone said, Vhonte would admit to herself that now she was motivated beyond the simple desire for credits. The veil of the false peace of the Tsad Droten was slipping, and Vhonte knew in her bones that soon the truth would be understood by the masses. This battle, for a minor, seemingly insignificant world, was a spark that would light the fires of war throughout the galaxy.

Vhonte looked forward to that, almost as much as she was looking forward to the credits and battles it would bring.

… …

---

… …

(Cam's POV)
As we moved through the hidden tunnels that led into Theed, I once more marvelled at the data coming to me through the HUD of my armour. Now, I'd experienced the dataflow from my team when I'd trained on Mandalore, but there it had been limited to just those seven others. Here, as we advanced quickly through secret passageways hundreds of metres below the plains of Naboo and the outer building of the capital city, I understood how powerful the Battlenet truly was.

I'd had something similar in my previous life, but here the data was coming in for everything. I could watch through the cameras of any warrior connected to the Battlenet – which included the Lokella for this operation – with ease. As we walked forward, a small display in the HUD showed feed from the armour of Osto and Bo as their assault teams neared their deployment positions, then from Naz as she moved with Sabe's unit toward where we'd meet them, before quickly switching to the datafeed from Vhonte Tervho as she watched the Gungan army assembled a few kilometres from the forest where she and the warriors with her remained; hidden from the sensors of the Federation by localised jamming equipment that wouldn't stand out unless the Federation did a detailed, equally localised scan of the battlefield.

At the same time, I could pull up the condition of any of the warriors in the battle, viewing their health, weapon loadout – including spare clips, grenades, and rockets – along with their location on a superimposed map of the planet. Or at least the planet near where they were. While I could look at other sections of the planet, there was no real-time feed coming into me as there wasn't anyone connected to the Battlenet, nor in range of a booster – which normally was just another warrior at another location – to carry their signal to my feed. Amusingly, I'd set the HUD's map feed to superimpose over my minimap. So long as the HUD map remained focused on roughly the same area as the Minimap, it acted as an enhanced map combining the Force, the Interface, and the Battlenet into one.

Haran, even just focusing on what my armour was relaying to me was a marvel. Beyond knowing my condition and setup – minus my Inventory as that was outside anything any could detect so long as I didn't access it – my armour knew the model of the various blasters and other weaponry being carried by Padmé and those with her - though I had already memorised most models and weapons in my training -; including the report that one of the guards under Panaka's command was taking medication for a rash. I'd rather not have known that, nor where the rash was, but that level of detail was incredible.

The HUD also prioritised targets based on preset parameters, with protocols to shift those parameters if a hostile was of a given species or group, or if they carried highly dangerous weaponry. It also had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree field of vision that I could call up. However, I had that disabled as I found it, when combined with the Interface, to be a sensory overload. Once Naboo was free and I was away with Anakin to teach him, I planned to get used to the system, but for now, it was turned off.

"How much further?"

The question came from Serra as we slowed our approach. I knew we were under Theed now, so it shouldn't be too long. Serra, along with Drallig and Panaka, was leading our teams through the tunnels. Padmé, HK, R2, Simvyl, and others were behind them while my unit, which included three of those from my Institute team back on Mandalore, brought up the rear.

As I looked at Serra, I once more noted how odd it was to see her in almost full armour, the only missing section being her helmet. While Drallig couldn't force me to remove mine – not that I would've even if he could – as her Master, he had ordered Serra to do that, and she had acquiesced.

Many of the Mandalorians present hadn't been happy about that, with Bo and Naz coming and complaining to me about it. They argued that Serra had come as Mando'ade to this battle and that her removing her helmet was, to some, an insult, not to mention stupid. However, I'd countered by saying that until Serra was made a Jedi Knight – and thus considered a full member of the Jedi – or she chose to leave the Order, then she was under the command of Master Drallig. Neither girl had been happy about it, but they'd accepted my word on the matter and passed it along to others, and it seemed to have sunk in as no one had challenged her about it.

That was because I'd met the one most likely to do so last night, and made clear if he had an issue with my command, he could stay behind and forfeit his pay for the battle, or close his mouth and accept my orders. Normally, he'd have the right to challenge me for command over this, but given lead elements such as striking the prison camps around Theed had already deployed, that option wasn't available. Thus, the warrior from Clan Wrajud had shut his mouth, though Osto had warned me that the warrior and others might challenge me after the battle, especially if it resulted in defeat. I'd thanked him for the warning and was prepared to deal with the matter afterwards, though I made sure to keep an eye on the unit Wrajud was serving with.

"No more than five minutes unless the exit's blocked," Panaka replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The tunnel had, so far, been empty. Even the various passageways that led elsewhere – which had me wondering why such tunnels were built – were deserted. Either that meant the Federation didn't know about them, or they did and were waiting for us to emerge to ambush us. In their place, I'd have mined the tunnels, or at the very least, placed sensors to detect movement if I knew of them. Since we'd yet to encounter any such threats, it appeared the Force was with us.

"Assault teams, report in." The command was said internally, travelling through the Battlenet. While I could've used eye gestures to send the commands, I found it easier and more familiar, to use vocal commands, and with all the seals on my armour, any reply or command given wouldn't sneak out. Something proved as neither HK nor R2 could detect when I was speaking within the armour.

Commands filtered in from the various teams around Theed. Most were still waiting in the bongos, below the waterline and hidden from sight. The few teams that had inserted via speeder were also in position, ready to begin the various attacks to draw attention away from the palace. The commands were filtered to Osto as well, as I knew once I found him, my focus would be entirely on Maul. My free hand gently touched one of my vambraces, reassuring myself that the various weaponry I'd had installed was there. Taking Maul down was going to be a fucking pain, though a challenge I absolutely relished, but I felt I had enough aces up my sleeve that I had a fair chance of achieving my goals.

My thoughts turned from Maul as one of the speeder teams reported that they'd met local resistance and been paired up with two Jedi. Pulling up their feed, I saw that one of the Jedi was Sia-Lan Wezz, which made me pause. I had no idea she, nor Rann I-Kanu, who I only knew in passing but had sparred with several times over the years, were on the planet. Still, learning they were here added new wrinkles to the plan, though thankfully the pair were far from the hangar, and thus beyond Maul's reach.

Pushing aside thoughts on the unexpected extra help – and wondering how they'd been doing since the invasion began – I waited, letting time tick away as we slowly reached the tunnel's exit. Once Panaka signalled we were there, I spoke through the Battlenet.

"Slannar."

No direct response of command came through the Battlenet, though within seconds details of warriors engaging battledroids filtered to me. Blue marks on the city map confirmed the engagement, and if I focused on those marks, details of the various warriors connected to the Battlenet were brought forth. Updates of warrior's conditions, be that ammo rates, strikes against armour, and the like appeared in a stream that, thanks to setting up the HUD earlier, meant they arrived in the same corner of my vision as Interface notices. Having the HUD overlay the interface meant I wasn't distracted by information overload in a dozen different points of vision.

"Assault is underway," I said, using the armour's external speakers for the first time since entering the tunnels. Unlike others, I wasn't using voice modulation, as I didn't want to blend into the masses.

A faint spike of concern and apprehension came from the Naboo with us – well, bar Panaka and Padmé. The former was focused only on protecting Padmé while the young queen radiated quiet determination; understanding that what was to come had to be done. The warriors with us, be they Mando'ade or Lokella, were battle-hardened and ready for what was to come, while the Jedi drew on the Force, releasing any concerns – which were mainly coming from Serra and directed toward me – into it.

Two battles were flagged for attention, and as Panaka worked to open the hatch leading to the surface, I reviewed the feeds, seeing the teams were engaging sentients. Given the hodgepodge array of species and weaponry, those were mercenary units, and I bit back a growl at seeing Trandoshans among the mercenaries, kriffing lizards. That there were mercenary units in play wasn't unexpected, but it was concerning to see them engage assault units so quickly. I sent new orders to the assault units engaged with the mercenaries to capture at least one from each group for questioning. Naboo had been gathered for shipping off-world, so if the Federation somehow destroyed the data of where those people had been sent and sold, the mercenaries might give up that information in return for their lives.

Regardless of how we learnt that information, Ferox and Validus had already promised Padmé the support of the Lokella to find and free her people. Padmé had been grateful for their help, and for the offers that they and Osto had extended to help train Naboo's security forces once the planet was free. It would cost the Naboo to hire instructors, but it seemed that Padmé understood that after this battle, Naboo couldn't entirely go back to how things had been before.

Light filtering into the tunnel let me know the exit was open, and as Panaka, HK, and Drallig led everyone upward, I sent a signal to Naz. She was with Sabé's unit and would bring them to the meeting point close to the hangar and entrance to the set of passageways that would lead to the palace.

Emerging into Theed, my eyes were instantly scanning for threats, my main lightsaber in hand. The HUD and my minimap were giving an insanely detailed map of the combat going on in the city, but it seemed that, for the moment, we'd emerged undetected.

Looking over the section of the Solleu River we'd emerged next to, I scanned the buildings on the far side. Detection located groups of droids and sentients moving around; however, I frowned as I realised that the sentients weren't from anyone connected to the Battlenet. Pulling up the details, I passed orders to the nearest units to engage and subdue what I believed to be another team of mercenaries, with the same intent to capture at least one for questioning.

A bongo rose from the river, and the rest of my team moved to cover them as Sabé, dressed as Amidala as seen in the Senate, emerged behind Naz. Others came with her, providing protection for Sabé; none of them aware that they weren't escorting the true queen.

Around me, I could feel the Force shifting, a growing conflagration of energy making clear it knew a critical moment was drawing close. Maul, if he was still expecting to engage the Jedi or me, would be nearby, yet no report had come in of a Force user in the field. There was no chance he didn't know that the city was under attack, or that there were Jedi present. Outside of myself, none of them were making any effort to hide their Force Presence. Qui-Gon had wondered why I was doing that when we'd entered the tunnel, though he'd not given voice to his curiosity. Provided he survived, as he likely would, I already had reasoning as to why I did so that should hide my foreknowledge of Maul's presence from him during the debrief.

My eyes drifted toward the hangar, the headquarters of the Naboo Security Force, and the main power generator that was attached to it. That area was expected to have droid patrols; however, none had moved to engage us. Given a unit half a klick away, in the general direction of the palace, was battling droids, I suspected the defenders here had been pulled away to handle them.

My gaze then shifted toward Jafan's Spire, and I reached out with the Force, searching for any hint of Maul. That was the direction Drallig and Serra were heading, and it should be clear, though I couldn't be sure. While Detection wasn't sensing him, the vision of the Jedi fighting him played on my mind; something that had been increasingly common the closer we'd gotten to the city.

Drallig and Serra would be fine freeing the prisoners at the Spire, especially as there was a unit of Mandalorians there to help. Yet until Maul was located and engaged, my concerns for her would continue to bother me. Haran, I might even still be concerned for her if she didn't fight Maul as this was the first true battle that she'd fought in. If a mistake was going to be made, the odds were that it would occur when she was first put under real pressure.

As Sabé reached Padmé, messages came in through the Battlenet, continually updating me on the situation around the city. Before a quick meeting could take place, I sent instructions to teams around the battlefield, altering their assault plans. Beyond a receipt of orders, no response came, but that was enough. Additional support was being sent to three units who, while well-armed, had lucked out and encountered tank squadrons not long after the order to attack had been given. With time, I knew all three would eliminate the tanks, but I'd rather not risk their lives needlessly.

"Master Drallig," I said, getting his attention as the meeting began. "Your support units are waiting here, and here." A small map of our location was projected from my vambrace. It marked the primary route to Jafan's Spire and the location where the two support units would meet them.

"Very well. May the Force be with you." After nods from myself and Qui-Gon – who along with Obi-Wan had been escorting Sabé to complete the illusion that she was Amidala – he moved off. After a brief moment, where her eyes found mine even under my helmet, Serra went after him.

"How far to the passageways?" Qui-Gon asked. My helmet stayed toward the meeting though my eyes tracked Serra as she headed away. When she and Drallig slipped through the first archway on their path, taking them perhaps ten metres from us, I relaxed ever so slightly. They were heading away from where Maul should be, though with so much of this battle changing I couldn't trust that he'd be waiting for us at the exit of the hangar as he had in the other timeline.

"The other side of the hangar," Panaka replied, and after a nod from Sabé, turned to take the lead. I moved quickly past him, the grip on my lightsaber's hilt tightening as I moved toward the large domed hangar. To reach it we first had to slip over a promenade that ran down the edge of the river to the Virdugo waterfall. In the other timeline, there had been a tank waiting at the end of the promenade, taking shots at the fighters as they took off. Here though, resistance units had reported four tanks on the promenade, along with at least three squads of battledroids.

Reaching the edge of an intersection that opened onto the promenade, I reached out with the Force, quickly sensing nearly three dozen droids waiting. Sticking my arm out, I used the vambrace to gain a visual and confirmed two tanks and twenty droids guarding the entrance to the hangar, and the passageway that led to the Naboo Security Forces headquarters. The other Federation forces had been called away to deal with the various assaults taking place in the city, but this lot had remained behind.

At the far side of the promenade, as in the other timeline, a local resistance unit was waiting, and as before, Padmé sent them a signal with a light. After they confirmed the signal, a speeder with an attached heavy repeater slipped into view and opened fire on the droids.

Their fire glanced off the tanks, doing no damage to them, but five B1s fell before the Federation forces reacted. As the tanks turned, their turrets bearing down on the speeder, the resistance unit slipped away; taking cover behind the wall of the building they'd emerged from.

Heavy blasts from the tank slammed into the building, shattering the stone with ease. As Padmé and Panaka led the rest across the promenade, I rushed forward. The resistance fighters had risked their lives to give us an opening, and I planned to make sure their move didn't cost them.

The faint roar of my blade as it ignited drew the attention of four droids near me. Before they could turn to see what had caused the noise, I was on them. The Force accelerated my movements, making it hard for their processors to track my movements, and after barely three steps, I was moving past them; the remains of the droids sliding to the floor; edges glowing where my lightsaber had slid through their frames.

Two more droids turned, detecting that something was amiss, but a flick of my wrist sent them crashing into the side of one tank. While that did nothing to damage the tank, it took out the droids and gave me room to leap. I twisted in mid-air, bringing my blade down on the barrel of the tank even as I used my other hand to send a Force Blast at another group of battledroids.

The barrel clanked against the hull of the tank, rendering its primary weapon inoperable, though I was still moving. Another jump carried me to the top of the other tank. The command droid there, realising my intent, dropped low, pulling the hatch closed behind him. However, I landed before the hatch could close fully and my blade slipped into the darkness within, burning a hole through the droid's head.

As I pulled my blade back, I used my other hand to rip the hatch from its hinges, tossing it behind me into a group of battledroids. With the access clear, I pulled a grenade from my belt, started the timer, and dropped it down. It bounced down to the trio of droid gunners, even as I leapt away, avoiding fire from the few remaining battledroids.

I planned to land on the first tank and finish that off, but a warning from the Force had me alter my jump an instant before I leapt, and as I landed – my lightsaber coming around to destroy three battledroids – a rocket slammed into the rear of the remaining tank. The rear hatch exploded, and the tank lurched forward, the repulsor-lifts holding it up failing as the front edge dug into the tiled ground of the promenade.

Looking at where the rocket had come from, I saw my unit in action. The Battlenet reported the rocket had come from Thun Dur's back, and as the last battledroid fell, he slid a new one into the launcher.

With the small droid force destroyed in less than half a minute, I jogged back over to the others.

"I believe the intent was for a silent insertion," Qui-Gon commented with an amused smirk.

"For you and Queen Amidala, yes," I replied as I gave Sabé a nod, keeping up the deception. "However, my unit is tasked with helping the pilots launch and then securing the generator." Officially, the reasoning there was that the pilots would need flight control – which was situated above the hanger – and prevent the Federation from attempting to destroy the generator, thus damaging a large part of Theed. "The more droids we draw to us, the less you should encounter as you approach the palace."

Qui-Gon nodded, accepting my logic. Both he and Drallig were surprised I'd given myself a seemingly minor role in the battle. Perhaps they felt I'd try to take part in a bigger battle, claiming more glory for myself. That I hadn't, had most likely eased their fears about my motivations for assembling the force helping to free Naboo.

I turned to Sabé and bowed. "May the Force be with you, your Majesty."

"And with you, Master Jedi," Sabé replied. The HUD could detect the faint variance in her tone that confirmed she wasn't the queen, but that was only because I'd been around her and Padmé for some time planning the battle. Otherwise, the slight variance between Sabé's tone and Padmé's would be ignored by most as something caused by the situation.

"Oya!"

I blinked, caught flat-footed by Padmé's comment. While it fit the situation perfectly, and amused the Mandalorians with us, I hadn't realised she'd picked up any Mando'a. Before I could give her a response, she followed Sabé and the others to the hangar. My unit moved as cover for the pilots while I hung back. I needed to be ready to move the moment Maul was sighted.

Qui-Gon and Panaka reached the hangar entrance first and quickly slipped inside. Padmé, Sabé, HK, Obi-Wan, and Simvyl moved next, along with the handful of Naboo security also acting as the decoy defence team for Sabé. Behind them, a four-warrior unit led by Naz came. They'd be the security for Padmé in the palace, with HK breaking off with Padmé as well.

However, as Thun Dur and Andeeld Krhul covered the pilots as they slipped inside, I felt the Force shift.

The HUD flared as it detected movement in a nearby building. Reacting to the warning going through the Battlenet, my unit moved, facing the new threat. Trusting the force, I leapt from my cover, and a moment later the pillar I'd been using exploded as a powerful plasma bolt slammed into it.

As the pillar groaned, and began the process of falling, I landed and rolled, the tiles behind me exploding as a series of blaster bolts slammed into them.

As I reached fresh cover, the Battlenet was already relaying into my HUD. Three snipers had taken up position over the small square we'd crossed, and had the unit pinned down. Huzu Cadora had taken a hit in the chest, knocking her from her feet though the only damage from the bolt was the scorching of the paint on her beskar. Other than the embarrassment of that, the unit was fine, and she and the others were already returning fire.

Yet, as their fire forced the snipers to pull back, I growled as a new group emerged into the square. Trandoshans were my least-liked species – even the Vong were worthy of more respect in my mind – yet that was what the group was composed of.

That they were here while groups of Naboo were being sold into slavery wasn't surprising, but I'd have rather avoided the walking handbags and furniture. Biting back a snarl, I reached out with the Force, gripping one of the lizards by its neck. As it frantically scratched at the sudden lack of air, I yanked my arm to the side, slamming it into one of its brethren.

The pair were assaulted with blaster fire, their bodies twitching delightfully as they succumbed to their wounds. Yet, just as I was about to savour the chance to remove more reptiles for the galaxy – and once more insult their god, The Scorekeeper – I felt the Force shift, warning me of a greater danger.

The Dark Side flared to life, and I quickly realised the location it was coming from. The same one where I could sense Serra and Drallig; directly beyond the Trandoshans. At the same time, reports came in of the units in the hangar coming under attack by droidekas, far more than in the other timeline.

Biting back a curse at this happening at the same time, I relayed orders to my unit. Andeeld Krhul, Thun Dur, and two of the Lokella with us were to move to help the Queen's teams. Huzu Cadora, Ginia Aran, and a Rodian named Vreet Tha were to support me in removing the Trandoshans and snipers and then securing the area.

While I could've called them with me to engage Maul, that wasn't the plan. Bo, Osto and a handful of others knew my intentions though, and as I slipped from cover, the Force accelerating me toward the remaining Trandoshans, I sent them the signal.

As I reached the first walking handbag, far beyond him, I saw flashes of green and red. My blade slipped through the lizard, removing his head. I turned, ducking under the meaty arm of one of its companions.

These things wouldn't keep me from reaching Serra. While I might not be able to prevent my vision from coming to pass, and thus save Drallig, there was nothing in the galaxy that would stop me from saving Serra from Maul.

As anger rose within me, I fought to remain in control. I couldn't make the same mistake with Maul, that I'd made when I'd fought Vosa.

… …

---

… …

(Vhonte's POV)
Vhonte watched as the reports from snipers in the forest and sensor probes buried in the plains during the night came regarding the size of the Federation army. She knew the droid army was going to be large, but what was approaching dwarfed the initial calculations. Given the rising dust cloud as the tanks and transports inched ever closer, she knew they were in for a real fight.

That dust cloud had been creeping ever closer for about an hour after the Gungans had stationed themselves about three kilometres from the forest. The Gungans knew they were in for a fight against a superior force, and, in a display of courage she could respect, had marched out anyway. Yet knowing you're outnumbered and seeing the massive droid army approach were two different things.

Many sentients would panic, possibly withdraw from the field of battle, or even abandon their posts, yet the Gungans stood. Through the Battlenet reports coming in, she could tell many were nervous, understandably so, but they stood their ground. Vhonte had fought in hundreds of battles in her time, even a few planetary wars when the Tsad Droten had chosen to turn their backs and ignore the suffering of others. Yet, she'd never face an army the size of the one the Federation was deploying.

Twenty thousand Gungans – some barely old enough to complete a verd'goten – stood ready for battle against an army that had them dwarfed. Over a hundred tanks and their carried squads of droids were being tracked, and Vhonte had no doubt there were more still to arrive, while four times that number of transports moved behind them. Based on the size of the larger armoured transports, and the smaller skiffs where the number of battledroids was confirmed, Vhonte placed the Federation army somewhere near two hundred thousand droids.

With that many enemy combatants, and an army that was willing to stand and fight it, Vhonte had found herself reviewing the battleplan several times since the first reports of Federation forces had come in. The Gungan warriors deserved better than to fall to droids in a battle of, in the grand scheme, minor importance. While some would die, the more that survived, the happier Vhonte would be.

A signal had come from Cameron Shan, announcing the assault on Theed was underway, and updates over the Battlenet confirmed the Federation forces in the city were far lower than initial reports had suggested. Why the Federation had felt a need to send such an overwhelming force to wipe out the Gungans, Vhonte didn't know, but at least it meant Shan's plan was working.

"Phase One." The words were spoken in Basic, as many in the battle couldn't speak Mando'a, and carried over the Battlenet. The various Mando'ade and Lokella'ade that were hidden in the forest confirmed receipt of the order and readied their positions. Vhonte's attention, though, was on the Gungans. She saw the orders reach the ears of the generals commanding the Gungan forces.

It took a few seconds, but the large Gungan force slowly moved. At the centre, four fambaas activated their shields, covering around half the Gungan force as the height of the beasts allowed the shields to extend further. The edges of the long battleline however didn't engage their shields. As planned, the groups there, and the four other fambaas outfitted in the plains with shield generators, turned.

As one would expect, the large beasts took time to turn, and the Federation army sensed, as expected, a chance to attack. Their tanks rolled forward, taking lead positions, and the squads they carried with them hopped off. As soon as the tanks were free of external droids, they opened fire.

Powerful bolts of plasma slammed into the Gungan shields, sending shockwave ripples cascading over the surface. While those attacks had no effect, those that targeted the retreating flanks of the Gungan army did. Vhonte cursed as Gungans died, being either directly struck by the blasts or being tossed around as the bolts tore huge chunks out of the plains.

Thankfully, the four fambaas at the flanks, along with over ninety per cent of the Gungans with them had already slipped behind the edges of the active shields, limiting the deaths in the opening salvo. That was due to signal jammers the Mando'ade and Lokella'ade had attached to the fambaas. Those prevented the tanks from getting target locks on the large beasts, though it did nothing for targeting their frames.

The droids had seemingly not concentrated their fire against the exposed flanks, which was a critical mistake Vhonte would never have made. Nor had they deployed snipers to target any commander in the Gungan army they could locate. Though if they wished to make such mistakes, Vhonte was more than happy to allow it and, when the later phases of the battle took place, to show the droids how a battle should be fought.

Once the last of the flanks of the Gungan army were behind cover, and they understood they weren't going to succeed in penetrating the active shields, the tanks ceased firing. The transports then slipped forward, oddly passing the line of artillery. If they weren't committed to drawing in the droids, Vhonte would've ordered rocket barrages and snipers to target the now unprotected transports as they began disgorging their contents.

"Shab'ni."

The curse slipped from her lips as reports from the Battlenet viewed the droids inside the armoured transports emerging. Two racks slipped out, with each holding dozens of droids, and then they were slowly lowered so the other two racks to extend and all the droids were then activated. Watching the count come in was an odd experience for Vhonte. Outside of astromech and smaller droids that could be programmed in certain useful ways, she had no love for droids. Save perhaps the akaan beskar'ad of Naast be Me'suum that Cameron Shan had restored and rebuilt with help from Bo-Katan Kryze, though that was a droid of legend with feats worthy of respect.

Individually, the Federation's battledroids were nothing. Yet, seeing over two hundred thousand of them deployed in one large force was something to respect. With so many combatants, they required if not respect, then consideration of the sheer volume of fire they could bring to bear.

A silent prayer was offered to Kad Ha'rangir: The ancient Mando'ade god of destruction, war, and change. Vhonte didn't place much stock in those gods, but with the size of their enemy, she would take any help she could. This battle, along with the ones currently raging in Theed and the one that should soon commence in orbit, would mark a moment of change in the galaxy. Not just for the Naboo and Gungans, or even the Tsad Droten, but perhaps, just perhaps, for her people.

It had been centuries since they'd gathered to fight a battle as impressive as this outside their civil wars. To many she'd encountered in her travels, while they respected Mando'ade, they didn't truly understand the power her people could project if united in a common cause. Yes, those in the Naboo system were but a tiny fraction of the hundreds of millions of her people spread across the stars, but they would help change the course of history.

As the unexpected moment of reflection on what this battle might well mean faded – at least beyond the credits she was getting paid for it – Vhonte refocused on the task at hand. The plan expected a large droid force, even up to this size, though she hadn't expected it to be called on. The change to Battleplan Variant Seven was sent to the unit commanders spread throughout the forest. The Gungan side of things, at least until Phase Eight wouldn't change, so there was no need for worry that the Gungans would have to adapt on the fly.

So long as droid fighter cover remained absent, Vhonte had little concern that they wouldn't win the battle. If the Federation deployed even a dozen Vulture droids as cover, then things would get concerning as they could've fire-bombed the gap between the Gungans and the forest. There was no tactical logic to not achieving air superiority if you could and Vhonte doubted even the Neimoidians, who only seemed to care about credits, were that tactically deficient.

Since there was no sign of such cover, Vhonte suspected Asta Ordo's assault had not only gone as intended, but that she, Kal, and those with her still held the Lucrehulk they boarded. Vhonte would've preferred to fight at Kal's side, as while they disagreed on many things, she deeply respected the man who was like an uncle to her and one of the rare sentients to whom she owed a life debt. Learning he was present for this battle had been a surprise for Vhonte, but a welcome one as she'd thought he'd retired from frontline work to raise his children after the death of his wife.

The real key regarding air cover would come when, or if, Naboo starfighters launched from Theed. Ideally, a squadron would carpet bomb the rest of the droid army, cutting them off from escape before accelerating into orbit. If that didn't happen, then contingencies were in place, and once launched, those fighters would move to engage the Vulture droids. The Naboo pilots knew they would be horribly outgunned and outnumbered, yet none had chosen not to fight, and that was worthy of respect.

A signal in her HUD alerted her that the Gungan flanks were now in position. "Phase Two."

As the droids formed up in front of their tanks, the shields at the front of the Gungan army were deactivated. Before the energy had even been fully cancelled out, the four fambaas at the rear activated their shields.

A snarl slipped from Vhonte's lips as she saw the rear rank was too far back. Their shields, as they reached the ground, didn't cover the front line of fambaas, instead stopping fractionally short of the beasts' tails. The plan had called for them to cover the lead fambaas, as now, as the four beasts turned, they were exposed; along with a considerable number of Gungans near them.

The Federation's command droids spotted this and the Battlenet alerted her to the droids shifting formations. The tanks moved forward, slipping into the gaps in the Federation's lines, and resumed their attack. Vhonte cursed whichever di'kut screwed up as a dozen Gungans died under the renewed assault. One of the fambaas stumbled as an explosion rocked the ground near its feet, and Vhonte readied a change in the battle plan. Thankfully, the large beast didn't topple, and a few more steps took all but its tail under a shield.

The tanks continued their barrage even as the front rank of fambaas slipped by those with currently active shield generators. She smirked as she saw the Gungan general from the front-rank gesture animatedly at the general for the rear rank. She made a note of that to speak with General Ceel after the battle, perhaps even share a bottle of Ne'tra Gal with him over the failure of his supposed commander.

What deranged logic had made the Gungan leaders decide that Jar Jar Binks should be the senior general was beyond Vhonte's reasoning. And as Ceel moved past Binks, the latter cowering in his saddle as if wanting to be anywhere but on the battlefield, Vhonte wondered if anyone would complain if Binks met an unfortunate end due to blaster fire once the true battle began.

As Ceel moved his fambaas into position – just inside the shields of the Bink's unit – the Federation's tanks ceased their attack. Even when they focused their fire on one specific shield, they couldn't make it fall, though the Battlenet reported that the shield had lost around twenty per cent power by the time the attack ended.

Instead of sending the order for Phase Three, Vhonte waited. If they moved now, then the tanks would quickly open fire and inflict casualties on the Gungans. What she wanted, and got half a minute later, was the droids forming up in front of the tanks once more.

"Phase Three."

The fambaas with Binks deactivated their shields, and a second later Ceel's shield activated. The droids didn't try to shift for their tanks, choosing instead to advance their ground troops toward the Gungan lines. That was a relief for Vhonte as while the shields could stand against the cannons on the tanks, each of them was rumoured to have missiles in their disk-shaped base. Those would, if outfitted even remotely correctly, have the firepower to cause chaos in the Gungan ranks, possibly even piercing the shields. Whatever the reason for the Federation not trying that attack, Vhonte was happy to let them make another mistake.

Blaster fire from the droid ground forces came in, but the Gungans were able to fall back in formation, those closest to the droids using large shields to cover themselves and their squadmates. Several large shields were attached to the rear of carts, and those covered the ammunition for the Gungan's artillery – which had yet to return fire – and the fambaas.

While the droid's blaster fire was nullified, Vhonte was glad they'd tried. The delay between the lead droids – all of which were marked with yellow stripes as the Jetii had said, four of whom were perched outside the hatches of their tanks – issuing the orders and them being carried out, was factored into the Battlenet. Those droids, along with any that relayed the orders, were filtered to the nearest sniper team until each had multiple targets. Vhonte had the senior droid assigned to her. While overall command for the droids was with the Lucrehulks in orbit, targeting those relaying the commands on the ground would cause chaos in the droid ranks once Phase Eight commenced.

However, there were still several phases to move through before then. Until it was time to attack, Vhonte kept careful watch. There was a chance the droids would alter their tactics before the Gungans had slipped back into the forest, or that the Federation wouldn't take the bait and advance into the treeline. The plan would adapt as needed, and as the droids passed the first marker for Phase Eight, Vhonte allowed herself a small smile.

Regardless of what happened between now and Phase Eight, the Federation army had entered strike distance and wouldn't emerge from this battle without significant casualties.

… …

---

… …

(Cin Drallig's POV)
Drallig slid to a stop as he rounded the corner of one building in Theed. In the path he and Serra were to take, stood a figure. Whoever they were, they wore a black cloak, one reaching almost to the ground. At Drallig's side, Serra tensed, her main lightsaber flying into her hand. Drallig's hand hovered near his, as he watched the figure. The Force was shifting, but it was unclear to Drallig as to why, bar that the figure intercepting them was the reason.


Slowly, the figure lifted its head, revealing a red-skinned Zabrak. Dark, foreboding lines at sharp angles marked its skin, and Drallig felt his hand grip his lightsaber, sensing the rising threat of the Dark Side radiating forth from the Zabrak, corrupting, twisting the Force as it tried to break it into a beast of burden.

Two gloved hands came up, pulling back the hood, exposing the horns of the species, however, Drallig's focus was on the Zabrak's eyes. Bright yellow pupils ringed in red stared back at him, the sign of one corrupted by the Dark Side of the Force, of one who'd given in to their baser, more emotional needs.

Drallig sensed the Zabrak's disdain in the Force. As if he and Serra were not the prey this Dark Sider sought. However, Drallig had no intent of allowing this corrupt individual to escape. There was a reason the Zabrak was here, and Drallig understood that the Force had guided him and Serra to this place to confront him.

[Master?] Serra's voice came into his thoughts, meaning she understood the Zabrak was a danger.

[Be ready,] he replied. He took a step forward, letting his robes slide from his shoulders. As they hit the ground, he unclipped and ignited his lightsaber. A moment later he heard both Serra's blades snap to life, and for the first time since chasing her to Naboo, Drallig was glad she was wearing armour. Yes, it was mainly durasteel instead of beskar such as that worn by many Mandalorians and Knight Shan, but against the clear threat in front of them, he would take what he could.

The Zabrak's lips twitched as if amused at their challenge, and as its robes slid to the floor, Drallig felt the Force shift again; the Zabrak once more exerting its will upon the Force. Drallig slid into a Soresu stance, knowing he needed to get a grasp on his opponent's style. He would expect Juyo, as that was the most aggressive of the forms, but until that was confirmed, he wouldn't be certain.

The Zabrak ignited its lightsaber, the callous, vibrant red blade common to the Sith surging into vibrant ruby life. What caught Drallig's eye was that extended hilt; one large enough for two hands to hold at considerable distance from each other. Knowing what he did about various lightsaber hilt designs, he surmised that the Zabrak preferred wide powerful strikes or used a double-bladed lightsaber. Given both Knight Shan and Serra had recently trained against training droids deployed with such blades, he wondered if perhaps the Force had alerted them to the threat of the Zabrak. That, however, was a discussion for after the Dark Sider was defeated.

[Trust in the Force to guide your actions, and look for your openings,] he said to Serra as he moved forward, taking the lead as they approached the Zabrak.

The Dark Sider sneered, once more showing disdain for them, though it didn't ignore the challenge Drallig's movements presented. Serra slipped to Drallig's right, hoping to flank the Zabrak, and jerked forward. The move was a feint, and as the Zabrak glanced at her, she pulled back and Drallig moved.

With elegant ease, his feet shifted, and he struck at the Dark Sider. However, the Zabrak was skilled, and its blade came up, blocking Drallig's strike. In the second before they disengaged from the bind, the Zabrak sized Drallig up, and Drallig felt the Zabrak now considered him a worthy fight.

Wanting to maintain the Dark Sider's focus on him, as the blade broke apart, Drallig rotated his wrists and pushed forward. The Zabrak blocked the thrust even as Serra moved in. Drallig knew the attack was too obvious, but as the Zabrak pushed his blade back and moved to defend against Serra, Drallig pressed forward.

The Dark Sider blocked Serra's attack, almost dismissively pushing her away, and then turning its blade with speed and grace to catch Drallig's attack before it could land. The Zabrak's lips twitched, and Drallig sensed that it was disappointed as if their attacks so far had been simplistic, predictable.

While pushing at the Zabraks' blade, Drallig slid one hand from the hilt, planning to use the Force to unbalance his opponent. However, before he could summon the Force to his aid, a warning echoed. He pulled back, creating just enough distance that as the second end of the Zabrak's blade ignited it failed to catch anything.

The Zabrak advanced, its blade moving rapidly. Drallig blocked a flurry of blows, each seemingly more aggressive and powerful than the last. The Zabrak stared at him and Drallig felt his presence pulse in anger. The Force moved around them, and Drallig placed his trust in it, letting it flow through him and guide his blade, catching the Zabraks' rapid flurry of angered strikes as much as needed to deflect and redirect them away from himself.

Yet, even as the Force guided him, Drallig knew he was being forced back; not by a Dark Sider, but by an actual Sith.

Drallig, like the rest of the Order, had believed the Sith were gone, that the last two were defeated and killed not long after the New Sith Wars. It seemed that, perhaps, that had not been the case. The question would be if this Sith served the same Order of Two that the last Sith encountered had, or if he was, perhaps, a member of a return to the older Sith orders that held hundreds, if not thousands, of members – rivalling the Jedi for numbers at various times in history.

Why this Sith was here, Drallig couldn't say. However, if, by the will of the Force, he was able to subdue it, Drallig intended to question it extensively as to the location of the other Sith before removing the threat the Zabrak posed.

The Force flowed through Drallig, guiding him as needed, and he allowed it to use him as a conduit to enact its will. Yet, for every strike deflected, for every blow avoided or countered, Drallig felt a gathering in the Force. The Sith was younger, stronger, and fuelled by its rage, attacking him with impressive speed and agility. Every time their blades connected, Drallig felt shockwaves – both physical and within the Force – rush through him, and each attack brought another small shift from Drallig, another centimetre of ground surrendered to the Sith.

To anyone watching, this engagement would appear as nothing more than a blur. Time had slowed for the pair, as the Force empowered them during this furious duel. The Sith's blade trailed over the ground, sending a wave of superheated dirt toward Drallig. Yet, before that even made it halfway toward him, not only had Drallig shifted to entirely avoid the dust, but he'd also defended against three dozen attacks from the Sith.

His attention on resisting the Sith's onslaught, Drallig almost missed the faintest of shifts within the Force that came from Serra. Without taking his eyes from his opponent, Drallig knew where Serra was, and wanting to give her a chance, he altered his actions. While each blow from the Zabrak was defended, the slightest of shifts in when and where his blade connected with the Sith's had them both turning.

As he sensed her closing in, Drallig backstepped a powerful slash, slipped to one side, and brought his blade around to strike at the Zabrak's hilt. The Sith reacted as Drallig expected, bringing his upper blade up, and pushing away Drallig's attack.

Yet, the opening that should've been created for Serra never materialised, and as Drallig batted away a return attack from the Sith, he was forced back. That created enough room for the Sith to pivot and intercept Serra. Drallig's Padawan unleashed a flurry of blows with her two sabers, coming in at angles that forced the Sith to continuously move. Yet, throughout Serra's assault, Drallig never sensed the Zabrak being truly pressed by it; almost as if he knew she couldn't harm him and was simply toying with her to prove a point to Drallig.

Wanting to assist his Padawan, Drallig moved forward. Yet, before he could take more than a step, he stumbled. Something had collided with his leg, and as he recovered almost instantly, he understood that during its last defensive move against Serra, the Sith had dragged its blade through the tiled ground, sending sections of it flying toward Drallig.

So concerned for his Padawan, Drallig had missed the faint warning from the Force of the action, and it prevented him from reaching Serra as the Sith turned her attacks back against her. Drallig moved again, wanting to reach his Padawan, yet he felt the Force move again. Before he was sure what it meant, he was lifted from his feet and sent hurtling back.

Turning in the air, Drallig dragged his blade along the ground, using the friction of the deep gash he left to slow himself and prevent the Sith's Force attack from slamming him into a wall. Steadying himself, he willed the force to aid him, and rushed forward, back toward the fight.

The dust from his blade scorching the ground remained almost stationary as he moved, his limbs straining as he willed the Force to push his body to its limits. Yet, even as he neared the fight, he knew he was too slow.

Serra was blocking each attack from the Sith, her body moving faster than he'd ever seen it do before. He sensed her determination, her desire to protect; to not allow the Sith to escape. Yet, for all that focus – of which Drallig was immensely proud – it was clear she was being forced back with contemptuous ease by the Sith.

Drallig understood the Sith was far beyond Serra, perhaps even himself, and as he rushed forward, he was reminded of facing Master Windu when he first developed Vaapad, when he'd come close to losing control of the power flowing through his strikes. Yet, whereas Vaapad was firmly rooted in the light, the Sith was thriving on the fury in itself, and, as much as Drallig wished it wasn't so, inside Serra. The Sith was using that rage, that fury to subsume the will of the Force to its desires, bending the Force to its will as it drove Serra back.

The Sith, sensing his approach, decided it had toyed with Serra long enough. The Force moved with it as the speed and ferocity of its attacks increased. Drallig was able to watch every shift in the Sith's body, every angle the two ends of its lightsaber took, yet for Serra it was too much.

A blow landed on her forearm, yet the Sith's blade was forced away. Drallig sensed the surprise at the strike not removing the limb and offered a small thanks to the Mandalorians for Serra's beskar bracers. Yet, the bracers could do nothing to prevent, after the Sith had swatted aside her blades, the Zabrak driving a knee into Serra's gut.

Serra doubled over, the blow driving the wind from her lungs, and her grip on her lightsabers weakened. The Sith's blade flew out, sending sparks flying as it sliced through Serra's shoto, though by the will of the Force and Serra's quick reaction, she retained her hand.

Yet, before Serra could attempt anything, even to recover from the loss of air, or Drallig was close enough his blade could do anything to distract the Zabrak.

Sensing the Sith's intent, Drallig called on the Force for aid. As the double-bladed red lightsaber came hurtling up to take off Serra's head, Drallig thrust a hand forward, sending every ounce of willpower he could with a powerful Force blast.

The blast slammed into the pair, and while Serra was only knocked to the side, the Sith was sent hurtling away.

Drallig raced to her side, sliding to a stop as he reached her. Yet, before he could check her condition, he felt the Force move. Even as he braced, the ground around them exploded and he was sent soaring away, showered in dust from whatever remained of the tiles they'd just been standing upon.

As he tumbled in the air, Drallig called on the Force for aid once more. Letting it guide him, he landed on his feet, sliding back to disperse the residual momentum the blast had imparted.

A warning from the Force accompanied a reddening of the dust around him. Knowing the strike would be too powerful to directly intercept, Drallig brought his blade up at an angle and moved. The main attack of the Sith's lightsaber slammed into the ground, sending more dust into the air, even as Drallig's blade came around, blocking the other blade.

Drallig held that blade in place trying to gain the bind, then sensing the pressure against his blade shift, leapt back, avoiding a sweep from the other end of the Sith's double-bladed weapon.

Using the small gap his jump had generated, Drallig glanced at Serra. She was slumped against a wall, and while he was too far away to see her condition, he could still sense her within the Force. Any further thoughts of his Padawan were ripped from his attention as a wave of darkness rippled through the Force, coming from the direction where Serra and Drallig had come from; from where Knight Shan was located.

Drallig knew that provided he survived this battle, he would need to speak with Serra and Knight Shan. The bond between them was greater than he'd known, perhaps going so far as to violate the Jedi Code. Any further concern with the bond between the pair was pushed aside as he sensed, entirely unexpected, delight from the Sith.

Drallig blinked, shocked to understand that the Sith wasn't here to help the Federation or target Queen Amidala, but was here for Knight Shan. When had Shan encountered the Sith, or what had he done to draw their attention? Such questions would have to wait though, as Drallig saw the Sith refocus on him.

As Drallig moved to engage the Zabrak, he knew that Shan had a small chance to defeat this Sith. Force, Drallig wondered if he could stop the Sith, and accepted, as his blade once more clashed against the Sith's, that today might well be when he became one with the Force.

If that was his fate, then he would accept it. However, before it came, he would do everything he could to defeat the Sith and protect Serra.

The Force answered his call for aid, and Drallig pushed forward, his blade moving with renewed speed and determination. The Sith blinked as it was forced back onto the defensive, and Drallig allowed himself a small smile at catching the Zabrak off-guard.

Sensing the Sith's intent to overpower his attacks, Drallig shifted. As a powerful, enraged counter-strike missed him, Drallig reached out with the Force. A second later, as his blade slapped away another attack from the Sith, he felt Serra's blade slide into his hand.

Moving even as the blade ignited, he slipped the arm low, and as the blade blocked an attack from the other end of the Sith's lightsaber, Drallig caught a whiff of burnt flesh.

The Sith stilled, anger burning brightly within it. Wanting to fuel that rage, hoping it might cause the Sith to overcommit, Drallig smiled. He was unsure how the battle would go, but he had drawn first blood and had every intention of that not being the only wound he left on the Sith.

… …

---

… …

(Vhonte's POV)
"Phase Seven."

Vhonte waited and watched as half of the Gungan army still outside the forest turned and slipped under the cover of the trees and the shields coming from the fambaas already in the forest. This was the last Phase before the battle would truly begin, and while it had taken longer than she'd have liked for the Federation to take the bait and close before Phases Five and Six, they'd committed to the assault.

The only flaw in the plan had come from General Binks when he shabla Phase One and left General Ceel's half of the army exposed to the Federation attack. That had cost the lives of over a hundred Gungans, but looking back on it, Vhonte suspected the slight mistake had worked to their advantage, giving the droids a false sense that the Gungan army wasn't as organised as it appeared.

That Binks had seemingly forgotten the plan that she, Dun Marod, and General Ceel had gone over with him a dozen times this morning, had her continually questioning the logic of making that particular Gungan anything but a figurehead. Still, the Gungan Bosses had left him in place, and once the battle was over, she hoped they understood the folly of giving Binks any true power.

As the last fambaas slid into the forest, disappearing into the shadows within, Vhonte waited, watching what the Federation did. So far, they'd continued to approach cautiously. Around sixty per cent of their droids had advanced with about a third of their tanks on the Gungans, with them only slowing or stopping once during Phases Five and Six.

The rear forces were split into two groups. About two-thirds of that group had closed halfway to the rest of the army along with most of the remaining tanks. The rest remained behind, guarding the troop transports. That had been one of the few times Vhonte had to compliment the enemy as it was precisely what they should do. Of course, because of that, it had been factored into the plans for Phase Eight.

The fact there were still clear gaps between the three elements of the droid army was another thing that worked in Vhonte's favour. As did the fact the droids in the front element, while moving in formation, were keeping close to the tanks. It had allowed them to fire when Phases Four through Six had been enacted, though Vhonte had been surprised when there'd been no attempt to attack during Phase Seven.

After watching the gradual withdrawal of the Gungan army, they may well have been waiting on air support to bomb the forest. That, thankfully, had yet to materialise, but with all eight fambaas that had walked out with the army, plus another four that had stayed inside the forest, all having activated their shield generators, the forces arrayed within were protected from such attacks.

Now the droids were left with three options. The first was bombarding the shields in the hopes they might fail. While the shields had shown strain under early barrages from the droids' tanks, inside the forest, the generators were working in tandem to produce their protection. That offered increased power to the shields and all but ensured the droids wouldn't punch through any shield without focusing every piece of artillery they had on it.

The second option, which Vhonte had already deemed unlikely given the droids had continued to advance as the Gungans withdrew, was for the Federation to turn and leave the field of battle. If they did decide to withdraw, then they'd have done so already as reports of battle in Theed must've reached the controllers in the vessels in orbit.

The third option and the one Phase Eight was designed for, was for them to keep advancing toward the trees. While there was a lack of logic in pressing an attack toward a clear defensive position, the sheer numbers the droids had, along with their orders seemingly being to destroy the Gungan army, meant it was the probable next step the Federation would take. And the one Phase Eight, and the various delegations of firepower Dun Marod had suggested, was designed for.

A predatory smile came to her lips as her HUD reported the front rank of droids advancing. That was corroborated by reports through the Battlenet from other locations of the Federation Army moving forward. Behind the front lines, tanks lifted their barrels and, as Dun had expected, fired deeper into the forest.

While their bolts destroyed trees when struck, it revealed the domes of the shields the Gungans had in place, and the tanks soon relented their assault. Sections of destroyed trees fell through the shields, showing their weakness to slow-moving objects. While a handful of Gungan positions inside the forest were destroyed by large sections of trees raining down, none struck a fambaas or a shield generator, removing one concern of this lull in battle that Vhonte held.

The Battlenet reported the edges of the droid army moving out, to flank the shields. Just as expected. Vhonte's smile turned dangerous as the bulk of the droid forces resumed their march forward, trickling over the Tracyn Briik. A quick check with unit commanders confirmed all primary and secondary targets were marked, awaiting her order to commence the battle. Shifting slightly, Vhonte lined her rifle up with the droid that was issuing – or relaying at least – the orders for the army.

Slow, rhythmic breathing was all Vhonte heard as her scope remained zeroed on her opposite number among the droids. She watched, still disbelieving that, with the connected network that must exist between the droids, the need for verbal relaying of orders was needed. Mando'ade hadn't been fighting like that since before the time of Te Kandosii Mand'alor four thousand years ago, yet the Federation, in a frankly di'kut display of intelligence, had decided their droid army needed to have orders relayed verbally.

Through the Battlenet she had complete access to every connected warrior on the battlefield, along with those in Theed – who were currently engaged heavily throughout the city while Naz Vizsla escorted Amidala toward the palace – yet the droids didn't, failing to use an inbuilt advantage they had. That made it another flaw in the Federation's doctrine that Vhonte and others were exploiting.

In one corner of her HUD, a number slowly rose, indicating the percentage of the lead element that had crossed the Fire Line. Thirty per cent soon became thirty-five, and then forty per cent. At the same time, a counter beside that slowly dropped, indicating how close the vanguard of the droid forces was from entering the forest.

At fifty per cent of the element having crossed the Tracyn Briik, they were ten metres from the forest. Gungans and others stood ready, at least five metres inside the treeline, ready to strike on her command. In various points, high in trees and using other natural elevated locations, snipers looked down their scopes, their spotters marking out the next set of targets. Those with rockets stood ready to unleash their first volley, striking the tanks in the lead element while Dun would have his finger over the trigger to show why the marker was termed the Fire Line.

Fifty-two per cent crossed the Fire Line, and they were eight metres out.

Fifty-five per cent, and six metres.

Fifty-eight and three metres.

Sixty per cent and one metre.

"Phase Eight," Vhonte said into the Battlenet as she squeezed the trigger of her rifle.

The bolt flew from the forest, travelling ten kilometres to strike the droid commander squarely in the chest. As the frame slumped into the tank, the field between the lead and second elements of the Federation army exploded. A wedge of earth, encircling the lead element, was torn from the ground. Those droids and tanks caught on the line were eviscerated, sections of tanks flying outward, striking nearby allies as everything along the line was engulfed in flame.

A second and then third bolt from her rifle targeted other command droids, joined by fire from other snipers. Rockets slammed into the lead element's tanks, depriving the now cut-off group of most of their fire support. Rockets then slammed into the second element's tanks; arcs of blue and white cascading across the hulls of the tanks as their systems failed and they crashed into the ground.

Not given a chance to process what was happening, large boombas from the Gungans slammed into the ground, spitting waves of blue plasma that fried the systems of any technology caught in their explosive radius.

As chaos fell on the droid forces, Vhonte sent signals through the Battlenet. The first was for fire to concentrate on any remaining active tanks in the lead element. If those broke into the forest and slipped through the shields, they could wreak havoc on the Allied forces. The second signal was to two groups of twenty warriors codenamed Galaar element.

… …

(Dun Marod's POV)
Dun Marod allowed himself to smile as the speeder he was on shot out of the forest. Two more speeders emerged just behind, and as he received confirmation that Validus' speeders were also moving, he chuckled. He might not be able to feel the wind on his face as they raced out of cover, surging toward the Federation's lines, but for the first time since the civil war, Dun felt alive.

As much as he enjoyed training new generations of warriors, he missed the battlefield, and the chance, perhaps, to die a death worthy of a warrior. Now, while he'd have preferred his return to battle hadn't occurred with another civil war for his people – the fourth in his lifetime, and sixth in the last century – he'd been content to die then.

However, it seemed his fate wasn't to die at the hands of a fellow Mando'ade, for which Dun was relieved. His people should be fighting others, proving their worth against sentients across the galaxy and reminding everyone of the might of the Mandalorians; not fighting over the scraps left behind after over a millennium of fragmented rule.

Dun didn't expect to die today; there was no honour in falling to such droids. The only advantage the Federation Army had was superior numbers, but as any good warrior knew, such an advantage was only critical when the commander was sufficiently skilled. The battledroids were designed to enforce Federation dictates, not fight major battles over planets.

That fact had been proven as the droids continued to advance on the Gungans, not once deviating majorly from their programming, which showed their controllers weren't skilled in warfare; something that Vhonte and he had designed their battleplan to take advantage of.

The Fire Line had destroyed close to Dun's highest projections, and severed the Federation Army in half, with that front element being pounded from fire inside the forest. Other Mando'ade, along with the handful of Lokella'ade that understood heavy ordinance were targeting the second element, destroying or (preferably) disabling every tank there while turning the droids to slag.

The Gungan boombas were remarkably useful for this. While the smaller hand-held balls were only capable of taking out unshielded droids, those launched from their catapults would disable a tank if they struck cleanly. Haran, even a partial strike was shutting down dozens of systems in the repulsor-lifted platforms.

As they neared the rear transports, Dun opened fire. Those with him in the skimmer, and those in the others did likewise. Droids were taken out with ease, while tanks were targeted with every piece of ion weaponry available. It had taken some work, but with support from Vhonte Tervho, Cameron Shan and Osto Ordo, Dun had convinced other Mando'ade to share their ion weaponry with the Lokella'ade; with the promise of reimbursement for any piece of ordinance used. That was going to cost Cameron Shan significantly as the Fire Line had taken most of the heavy explosives brought to the planet, but, as the transports began to turn, hoping to retreat, and the ion fire shifted to them, the purpose of sharing around the weaponry became apparent.

Attempting to take most of the tanks and transports intact was a brave call, but the thinking had been of the reward doing so would bring. The Federation would have to pay to recover each vehicle, and if they didn't others in the galaxy surely would. While the credits each warrior was getting from Cameron Shan for this battle were worth the effort, none would turn down the chance at a larger score, not even Dun who had little personal use for a large credit haul. Save perhaps, upgrading the weaponry of his armour.

As the first transports lost power and dug into the green fields, Dun examined the Battlenet. The front droid element was rapidly falling with the Gungan artillery shifting focus to the second element. There, smaller, secondary explosions had ripped through the formations of tanks, depriving them of fire support from each other, making them easy targets for those targeting them.

As another droid fell due to Dun's blaster, he allowed himself a small smile. While the droids were unworthy of being considered a worthwhile enemy, seeing so many disparaging forces ally together under a unified command lifted some of the melancholy that had held Dun's heart for decades. He didn't know if this alliance would last past the liberation of Naboo, but seeing so many Mandalorians from across the stars rally under a single banner was something he had long thought impossible.

However, if the chance again came to fight in such an alliance, Dun would be the first in line. While the Lokella'ade and the Gungans weren't Mando'ade, they were warriors. Haran, even the Naboo were proving that beneath their belief in peace and discussion if they had to, they would fight to protect what they held dear.

While the skimmer he was on slipped between the droid lines, those onboard targeting every droid and transport as they could, Dun wondered if the offer to train the Lokella was still valid. They fought for a worthy cause and working with them might bring Dun the chance to die in a battle worthy of his skill.

… …

---

… …

(Cam's POV)
I barely suppressed a scowl of annoyance as I slipped under the powerful – but to me – slow attack of a vibroblade. The lizard that didn't know he was nothing more than a pair of walking boots attacking me was the last of the squad I'd run into. Yet even as I cut down his companions, more mercenaries had emerged, including the return of the snipers from earlier.

While the incoming fire wasn't able to wound me, there was still a kinetic element to the bolts. Something that was proven when I stumbled as a sniper's bolt caught my shoulder. I'd been occupied removing the head of a Weequay and knew the armour could tank the blow, however, I had forgotten about the effect getting hit would have. Once I'd recovered from stumbling with a slight adjustment, I'd launched the Weequay's head toward the sniper dumb enough to hit me.

Watching the grey-skinned female duck before the head exploded inside the room she was using for cover had brought a smile to my face even as I ended the life of another annoying lizard. My lightsaber flicked out, deflecting another bolt back to its source even as I thrust my beskad forward with a passing step, grinning at the look of realization in the lizard's eyes I stepped past, ripping my blade through to send his steaming guts splattering to the floor as he tried in vain to hold them in.

Turning even as the walking belt fell to its knees, my lightsaber removing a hand that tried desperately to grasp at me, I moved forward. The HUD let me know the locations of the snipers – the grey-skinned lady having shifted rooms while I'd been finishing off the Trandoshan – and I raised my beskad, extending two fingers.

Bolts flew toward me as I walked forward in the square, though they never made it to me, slamming into the Force Barrier I'd raised to cover myself. Already the warriors with me were targeting the snipers as the last of the nearby mercenaries fell. I took a step forward, readying myself to rush to where Drallig and Serra were engaging Maul.

Fear rushed through the Force, knocking the air from my lungs and I fell to a knee as my barrier faltered.

"Serra."

Bolts slammed into the ground around me as my focus slipped and the Force Barrier fell as I understood where the rush of pain had come from.

One bolt crashed into my helmet, jerking my thoughts back to my location. With the rage I kept buried inside rising, demanding I strike back at those attacking me and my loved ones, I looked to where the bolt had come from. Snarling under my helmet, I extended my arm and clenched my fist.

The section of the building the sniper had been in imploded as I crushed it with the Force; the sniper inside had no chance to escape as the walls around him pulverised his body.

I blinked as I released my hold on the building and watched the debris tumble down what remained of the three-story building. Serra had been hurt, though not critically, and in that instant when I'd felt her pain, I'd lashed out. I'd regained control quickly afterwards, but it was a concern at how easily I could still lose control.

I'd done the same as what had happened with Vosa, and when Fay fell against the Vong, even though I thought I'd gotten a handle on my rage. Yes, I hadn't released it into the Force as a Jedi was meant to, but doing that was difficult when I remembered everything that had happened to me vividly. It was why I'd yet to even enter the same room as Vosa.

I had thought I'd gained control over that rage, to harness it only when I wanted, yet in an instant, when someone I cared deeply for had been hurt, I'd lost my focus. Though I didn't regret what I'd done to the sniper.

Refocusing on the battle around me. Time moved slowly as the Force Enhanced me; letting me watch bolts crawl forward. Stepped forward, I moved away from another sniper's bolt. That sentient and the droid squad that was emerging into the square to engage us were no longer my concern.

Maul was on the battlefield.

A second droid squad appeared this time directly in the direction I was going. I was among them before they could process it, my lightsaber craving its way through half of them in the time it took one to mutter a concerned "uh-oh."

I rushed past the remaining droids without bothering to finish them off. They weren't my target. Maul w…

My thoughts were rattled as the ground around me exploded and I was sent tumbling.

My helmet slammed into a wall, though the systems inside prevented me from getting concussed even as I shook it to clear the cobwebs. The HUD revealed I'd run directly into a unit consisting of two tanks and a dozen droids. They were likely moving toward the squad I'd left behind in my race to reach Serra and Maul.

I pushed myself to my feet, only to stagger as pain slammed into my gut, doubling me over.

Understanding Serra was hurt, perhaps fatally, I felt my control slip, and as I recovered and looked toward where the tanks were, I extended an arm. Brilliant crimson lightning, twisted and fuelled by my rage at Serra's pain, surged from my fingertips. Any droid caught in the fury's path was fried, falling to the ground in a blackened mess as the lightning slammed into the first tank.

The vehicle shuddered, sparks erupting across its frame before smoke slipped from the seals, and it fell to the ground.

The other tank fired, forcing me to shift focus. My palm opened, and the shell fired at me exploded, engulfing the barrier I'd generated in pulsating flames. As the flames receded, the few remaining droids with the tank paused, and while they couldn't see it, I smirked.

Focusing my anger, reining in my rage, I surged forward.

Another round exited the barrel of the tank.

A faint flick with my free hand forced the explosive downward. The round slammed into the ground, detonating as I leapt, the Force boosting my height far above the explosive shockwave that devastated the few remaining droids.

Surging over the peak of the shockwave, I bore down on the tank. My blade sunk through the barrel and embedded itself in the hull. Growling, I used both hands and wrenched the hilt to one side, leaving a deep, super-heated wound in the tank's hull. The sounds of the droids inside reached the armour's microphones even as I leapt again.

Landing behind the tank, I reached back with one hand and tore the hatch from its hinges. A thrust of my arm then sent a Force Blast inside the tank, shattering the droids and controls.

As the machine shuddered and then crashed to the ground – its repulsor-lifts failing – I turned. The Force propelled me forward as the tank exploded.

Somewhere just ahead, Maul was fighting Drallig. Serra was injured, but alive, which was perhaps the only reason I retained control of my rage. As the seconds ticked down until I reached my target, I did what I could to focus my anger, to not allow it to dominate me.

Around me, around Theed, the Force was flaring wildly. Whatever I was rushing to was, I understood clearly, a pivotal moment in the direction the galaxy would take. I'd changed the timeline enough that, if I didn't defeat Maul, then the original future was lost. That everything I'd done to prevent that future from coming to pass would be for nothing.

… …

---

… …

(Asta Ordo's POV)
While she understood the need for patience, after over a week of being forced to deal with the Neimoidian crew of the Saak'ak, Asta was fast approaching the end of what patience she had. It wasn't necessarily that the Neimoidians were snivelling, cowardly osik that would do whatever they were told for fear of their lives being threatened, or that they refused to even consider resisting. More it was that she knew a battle was raging below, but that it wasn't time yet for her and the warriors with her to do their part.

They'd heard the reports of the droids moving to meet the assembled Gungan army – which had been a surprise as the locals had managed to assemble nearly twenty thousand warriors – but since then, information had slowed to a trickle. She could see the plan being used by those on the surface but hadn't commented beyond ordering Captain Dofine to not send orders to alter the droid's instructions.

Dofine was perhaps the only Neimoidian that Asta didn't hate spending time around. That was because, unlike his crew, he appeared to have a backbone. Or at least enough of one to glare at her or whoever was keeping watch on the bridge when orders were given. The rest of the crew simply cowered and complied, sapping much of Asta's enjoyment of her new command.

The only ones onboard who hadn't accepted the new chain of command had been the remaining mercenaries. Those brief insurrections were handled appropriately, and having the crew place the bodies into the onboard incinerators ensured they remained docile. Asta knew that the Naboo, the Jetii, and the Tsad Droten might have issues with the summary execution and burning of captured combatants, but Mandalorians didn't. Leaving alive those who could be a threat in an active warzone was jare'la.

Yet, news of her actions here would reach the Naboo, the Jetii, and possibly even the Tsad Droten. However, the only reactions she was curious to see were those of Shan and Keto. While Keto's opinion was less important than Shan's, not least as she'd submitted to her Jedi Master's orders to not wear her helm, she was the first Jetii to become a Mandalorian in centuries. Shan's reaction though would go some way to determining if his path remained with the Jetii or if he would fully embrace the Resol'nare.

A beeping from the droid control station drew her focus back to the present, and she offered a silent prayer to the ancient gods that they could finally do something.

"Reports coming in from the army," the Neimoidian at the station began, a threat of panic in their voice. "Gungans have detonated a large section of the plains. Ten per cent of the army lost. The army is split by the explosions. Command and control failing."

Dofine had turned as the report came in, fixing Asta with an intense glare that might've concerned Asta if she'd been an adiik. "I assume this is the work of your people?"

"Fire coming from the forest," the control officer continued, stopping Asta from responding quickly. "Gungan and standard blaster fire."

Asta shrugged once the control officer was seemingly finished. "I honestly couldn't tell you if I wanted," she finally responded to Dofine, giving the Neimoidian a wide, shit-eating grin. When the reports of the Gungans marching out onto the plain had filtered in, she'd spoken with Kal and Baston. Kal, who was holding the power core, had detailed the basic plan he would work with. Baston, who was overseeing the transferral of the Saak'ak's computer core to transportable drives, had chimed with other suggestions. So far, everything that had been reported was in line with what they had expected.

"Reports of tanks and droids being disabled. Speeders assaulting the transports."

Asta grinned at the latest report, knowing it may well have cost her several casks of ne'tra gal with Kal as the veteran warrior had suspected Vhonte would push to capture as much of the Federation's army as possible. Asta had expected them not to pursue it simply because of the increased risk, but given many of the warriors on the planet below were fighting for credits and not for House Ordo, House Kryze, or a personal connection to Cameron Shan, she wasn't surprised to lose the bet.

Not long after taking the vessel, Asta had spent time reviewing why the Federation had targeted Naboo. The Naboo themselves were, to Asta's disgust, naak lovers. Yet, unlike the di'kute in their domed cities who claimed to be Mando'ade but were little better than osik-beetles clinging to the rear of the Tsad Droten, the Naboo had a backbone. They, led by a queen barely older than one who'd completed their verd'goten, were fighting for their home. That was worthy of respect.

The information the Federation had on the Gungans was exceedingly limited, dismissing them as primitives barely worth the cost of tibanna to exterminate them. As the droid army struggled to engage a Gungan army a tenth its size, it seemed that the report was – at least for Asta – amusingly lacking.

Watching the droids be led around like an adiik by their parent was enjoyable. It was made better by the fact that Dofine could see what was happening, but she prevented him from relaying new commands to the droids. To make sure the officer at the control station wasn't going to try anything, Nia Vizsla had her blaster pointed at the back of the Neimoidian's head. Given the original officer had tried to do that not long after the Saak'ak was captured, which resulted in their skull being split by a beskad from behind, and that their blood still marked the console, it was hardly surprising the current officer was only doing what they had to.

"However, it does sound like more than the work of just the Gungans," she said to Dofine, enjoying sticking the blade into his anger at not being able to do anything about the disaster for the Federation unfolding below. Of course, once she'd learnt about the transports lifting off from the capital, Theed, and other settlements, and what – or more accurately who – was onboard, she was going to take any chance she could to goad the Neimoidians.

"What other dastardly actions have you lot got planned?"

Asta's smile grew, and she leaned forward. "Nothing the likes of what you were doing. I hadn't realised that the Federation was so short of credits they needed to loot a planet and sell the inhabitants into slavery." Dofine looked away, suggesting he was unwilling to defend his actions, though that might be Asta misreading the alien.

When the first new transports had come up from the surface, Asta had ensured they were diverted to the Saak'ak. The Naboo and Gungans were fighting for their freedom, and when they won, they deserved to return to their cities and not find them looted by the Federation. Yet, when those transports had arrived onboard full of citizens from the planet below, it had taken considerable effort for her not to exterminate every Neimoidian onboard. And to ensure her warriors didn't do likewise.

Moving the understandably confused and scared Naboo, including children under ten, to comfortable quarters, and ensuring they were fed and treated by the vessel's medical droids had stemmed some of that anger. Though Asta had promised the others that, once the planet was free, the crew of the Saak'ak would answer for their crimes.

Dofine held her gaze for a moment before turning back to the viewscreen. Asta watched his fingers twitch, the anger at being unable to do anything on what had formerly been his vessel easy to see. Sensing the moment would soon be at hand, she slipped her helmet on, relieved to be back in the sealed protection of the armour and away from the odd smell of the Neimoidians.

With the battles in Theed and on the plains underway, it wouldn't be long until their phase of the liberation of Naboo could begin. Somewhere in the system, close to the planet and running silent was a small, modified cargo hauler. The pilot, a freelance hunter - of both bounties and big game - was waiting for a signal from her or the Naboo pilots. Once received, he'd relay it to the fleet. Currently, they should be at the very edge of the system. The hyperspace coordinates were fed to them by the gunships that had helped sell that the Naboo Royal Cruiser had carried Queen Amidala and not her and her warriors.

If all had gone to plan, then Torrhen and Adonai would be with them. Throughout the last civil war, engineers from both Clans had been working to bring long-mothballed warships online. However, Anzur Varaud had surrendered, giving over control of most of the factories and foundries under his house's control before the largest of those warships could be readied. Meanwhile, the accursed Kyr'tsad had been crushed.

Now, Asta knew that members and sympathisers of Kyr'tsad remained. However, with their bases slagged, their resources taken, and any ships they held destroyed or stripped for parts, no trace of their operations remained within Mandalorian space. If any wished to still follow their twisted ideals, they had been declared aruetiise by Torrhen, Adonai and Anzur Varaud.

Yet, even if the group were gone, Asta remained concerned they might return. While Adonai trusted Pre Vizsla, and Torrhen was accepting that Pre had not followed in his family's past, Asta couldn't bring herself to let go of her worries about the head of Clan Vizsla. Yes, he had proven himself in battle several times over, even saving her life during a skirmish on Hrthging, but his brother had founded Kyr'tsad, and it was the symbol of their house – the Darksaber – that was used as the rallying sigil of Kyr'tsad. Until that blade was found, and then crushed in the forges, she could never truly accept the group was gone, nor that Pre wasn't in some way involved with them.

"Captain! We've got reports of fighters launching from Theed!" The panic in the officer's tone sickened Asta, but knowing that her call to arms was almost here, she sent an alert through the Battlenet. Confirmation came in from Kal, Baston and the other team commanders scattered throughout the ship.

Dofine glanced at her, wondering what she knew of the intent of these fighters. "Flight vectors?" He asked the sensor officer. As Dofine spoke, Asta sent a command to Baston. The signal to the fleet was away and now it was just a matter of time until they arrived and ended their façade.

"Four banking toward the battle on the plains. The remaining sixteen are rising. Computer predicts an eighty-five per cent chance they are moving to engage us."

At this Dofine turned to her, making her chuckle. She could tell how much he wanted to launch the alert Vulture droids and order the trio of Lucrehulks to move, but he understood that, if he wished to continue breathing, such a command had to come from her.

The Federation's databanks had held specifications of the Naboo fighters, and while they were designed for form over function, from what Asta had learnt from those files, the Naboo fighters were still capable. While not as heavily armed as she would like, or as shielded, they were fast and nimble. Yet against the sheer number of Vulture droids even one Lucrehulk could launch, twenty fighters didn't stand a chance. And that was before considering the shields and firepower that each Lucrehulk had as supposedly unarmed cargo haulers.

"Well?" She said with a smile that Dofine couldn't see. "Aren't you going to launch defence fighters?"

Dofine held her gaze, wondering what exactly she was up to. Regardless of whether he determined anything or not, he soon turned to the sensor officer. "Hox, bring us closer to the planet and order the Vuutun Palaa and the Luuhan to move back to maximum control range. Nirtam, divert active squadrons to defend the fleet and launch alert fighters from all vessels to assist. Dremon, plotting firing solutions on the Gungan forces. Itab, if a need arises, assume control of planetary droid forces if the other vessels report connection difficulties from moving to higher orbits."

"I would suggest only assuming control of droids in the other cities," Asta offered. Dofine looked at her, wondering about her reasoning for helping. "With the fighting going on across the planet, it would make tactical sense to take control of the less critical ones, allowing the other vessels to focus on Theed and the battle with the Gungans." She moved forward, placing a hand on the back of Dofine's chair. "Unless, of course, you wish to focus your attention on protecting the Viceroy, in which case, assume control of the droids in Theed."

Truthfully, it was better if the Saak'ak maintained control of droids across the planet for what was to come. However, Dofine was intelligent enough to see through her logic there and would do the opposite, thus she gave him the more tactically prudent suggestion. How he responded was up to him.

The Neimoidian held her gaze, trying to determine her motives, which was another small mark in his favour. It wouldn't save him from the Reckoning coming for helping in the invasion of Naboo, the looting of its treasures and helping with selling the people into slavery, but it was something to count in his favour.

"You heard her," Dofine spat out as he continued to glare at her.

As the crew took on her advice, Asta laughed. While she couldn't feel the massive vessel move, a report from Kal stating more energy was being drawn from the power cores confirmed it. She let him know this was intended and to be ready to execute the next phase of the plan.

With little to do until the fleet arrived, Asta used the Battlenet to access datafeed from the lead squadron of Vulture droids under the control of the Saak'ak. Like most Mando'ade, she disliked droids, finding them an unworthy substitute for true warriors. The only droids safe from that determination were the basilisks of legend – though perhaps not for much longer – and the akaan beskar'ad of Naast be Me'suum that Cameron Shan had recently brought back online with help from Bo-Katan Kryze. That droid was one feared and respected by all Mando'ade, though each time she considered Cameron and Bo-Katan, she wondered when the pair might seal their relationship and unite their clans.

That was a matter for another time though, and as she watched the datafeed from the Vulture droids, she found some grudging respect for their designer. They were fast, agile, well-armed and shielded and moved in swarms that would overwhelm most fighters any species in the galaxy might deploy. Yet, as she watched, even massively outnumbered, the Naboo fighters were not only holding their own but inflicting damage on the Vultures at a three-to-one ratio.

While that was impressive, the Naboo were outnumbered close to twenty-to-one, and that was before the support wave of vultures reached them. Though she could admire their determination to fight and die for their home, their freedom. It proved the choice of Houses Ordo and Kryze to answer Clan Shan's call to arms was the correct one.

The Neimoidians were enjoying watching the Naboo die in what they regarded as a pitiful attempt to attack the Lucrehulks. Asta, however, watched stoically, her armour recording the face of every Naboo pilot who died. While she didn't know if the Naboo would return to their path of peace once they were free, on this day, they showed that, even if they had failed to prevent their planet from being invaded, they would fight to free it. That inside them beat the hearts of warriors. When the day was over, and the battle decided, their names would be remembered by all.

As she watched another Naboo fall in defence of their home, Asta considered their young leader. Queen Amidala had pleaded her case to the Tsad Droten, yet they had ignored her. Bending, instead, to the demands of the very group responsible for invading her world. While that had forced Chancellor Valorum from power, it had also lit a spark in Amidala.

Returning to fight for her people had inspired others to do likewise. Yes, most of the Mando'ade who had answered the call did so for credits. Amidala's speech to the assembled fleet before they had departed for the planet showed the fire within her, and Kal had remarked that while a politician, she had the heart of a warrior. Something that her people were showing they, too, possessed.

"Acquire firing solutions on the battle on the plains."

"Belay that," Asta snapped, her hand gripping the hilt of her beskad on the chance the weapons officer tried to enact it. She relaxed slightly as she saw Hox jam the muzzle of his rifle into the back of the Neimoidian Weapon's officer's skull. A squeak of terror escaped the Neimoidian and Asta grunted in annoyance at such weakness. "Just because I've let you deal with a false threat doesn't mean I'm going to let you do anything more."

Dofine blinked. "False threat?" she leaned forward, removing her beskad from its mounting at her side. "What have you done?" He asked as the blade caught his eye.

"Captain! Vessels dropping out of hyperspace near the planet's moon!"

Dofine's attention snapped to the viewscreen. "Display!"

Asta walked behind his chair, dragging her blade along the edge, letting the scrapping of metal-on-metal echo around the bridge. While it affected the Neimoidians, her warriors were all inside their armour, the sound muted and seen as little more than a hint of the carnage to come. As the screen shifted from images of the minor fighter engagement to display the arriving fleet, a smile that would've stopped the hearts of several of the Neimoidians came to Asta's face.

At the same time, every Neimoidian on the bridge – and throughout the ship – who wasn't either a senior officer – and thus carried ransom value – or important, died. Their bodies scorched as her warriors executed them and took true control of the Saak'ak.

"What is the meaning of this?" Dofine screeched as he leapt from his chair. "Ho…" his words died as Asta moved forward, the hilt of her beskad slamming into his skull. At the same time, the other senior officers were stunned or rendered unconscious similar to their captain.

She watched his body slump, the arm cracking as it caught and twisted awkwardly. The HUD confirmed it was broken but otherwise, the prisoner was alive. "Finally," she muttered to herself. Moving forward, she pushed Dofine away and eased herself into the command chair. It wasn't a wonderful fit, being designed for Neimoidians, but at least the ruse was over and true command of the mighty vessel was hers.

"Status?" she asked through the local Battlenet.

"Control of the vessel's droids confirmed," Nia Vizsla reported as she sat at the droid control station. "Awaiting your signal."

"Helm ready."

"Weapons primed, awaiting firing solutions."

The reports from Hox Brahl and Mun Xath confirmed the bridge was theirs. Reports team commanders confirmed the rest of the ship was secured, with all organic crew dead or incapacitated. "Open a channel to the Ne'tra Tal'ade," she said, the large command vessel at the centre of the combined fleet, a relic of a bygone era but still a terror of the battlefield, dwarfing those around it.

The display shifted, half showing the approaching fleet while the other showed her the command deck of the Black Blood Warrior. "Riduur, Adonai," she said to the two figures shown on the Ne'tra Tal'ade's bridge, her voice carried by the external speakers of her armour.

"Riduur. I assume the vessel is secure?" Torrhen asked with a slight smile. Neither he nor Adonai currently wore their helmets. From the way they stood, however, she could tell each had them under their arm.

"It is, along with any crew of value and those the Federation had taken from the planet."

Adonai growled. "What?"

"It seems that to recoup costs, the Federation was not only looting Naboo but selling the people into slavery." Both men bristled at the statement, their anger at the actions of the Trade Federation easy to see. "While we couldn't stop those sold before our arrival, nearly two thousand Naboo and Gungans are onboard."

"Do they know your vessel will soon go into battle?"

"Yes husband, they do," Asta replied, rolling her eyes at Torrhen; not that he could see the gesture. While Torrhen was a great warrior and an even worthier mate, he had a gentle heart and tried to protect those in danger when he could. "Many have chosen to help us man this vessel, and are now following the commands of my warriors."

"While we're pleased to hear that, perhaps we might keep discussions about their fate, and that of any prisoners you have, until after the battle," Adonai suggested. "What forces do you command?"

"This Lucrehulk was designed as a command vessel. While she has limited control of the droids below, over four hundred Vulture droids are at my fingertips. Along with firepower that likely breaks the Tsad Droten laws."

Adonai laughed. "That will be something I'm sure Alor Cameron and Queen Amidala will enjoy throwing in the face of the Senate. Assisted, I suspect by the new Chancellor: Sheev Palpatine of Naboo." Asta's brow rose. When the Senator for Naboo hadn't returned with Amidala, she had considered him a coward. However, it seemed he had used the chaos to become the new leader of the Tsad Droten. Not the actions of a warrior, but one of a shrewd politician. Asta would be wary of the man if she ever met him.

"The Saak'ak is ready for battle," she said, shifting the topic back to a relevant matter.

"Then let the battle commence." The signal from the Ne'tra Tal'ade ceased, returning the display to that of the approaching allied fleet.

"All stations, execute," Asta said through the Battlenet.

With full control of the Saak'ak her HUD reported the ship slowly turning, bringing her arsenal to bear on the other Lucrehulk. The droids under her command suddenly began turning on those around them. She knew that on the planet below, that might not matter and wouldn't save the droids from destruction, but in space, watching Vulture droids suddenly shift from targeting Naboo fighters to other droids, was a glorious sight.

However, a moment later, it was replaced by another.

The main cannons of the Ne'tra Tal'ade opened fire, slamming their power into the shields of the Vuutun Palaa. As the captains of the other Lucrehulks called out for orders from Dofine, the Mando'ade dreadnought pushed forward. Around it, the fleet added their firepower, swatting aside wings of vulture droids.

Asta allowed herself an amused smile as her HUD reported the Saak'ak's batteries opening fire.

For the first time since the Dral'Han, the galaxy would be reminded of the might of the Mandalorians, and the power of a dreadnought built by them.

… …

---

… …

(Serra's POV)
With a groan, Serra lifted a hand to her head. It was hard to focus and there was a ringing in her ears. Yet, all that failed to matter as her vision cleared and she saw lightsabers clashing not far from her. Green whirled around, engaging a far longer blade of red and she blinked, her mind refocusing as she realised her Master was engaging the Sith.

Wiping her forehead and eyes, she stood slowly, ignoring the blood on her sleeve as she watched the Sith. She'd known he was Sith before she'd arrived on Naboo, known that if she didn't do something, Cam would die to the Zabrak's blade. The visions the Force had granted her had been clear in that. Yet, she'd not expected her Master to chase after her; or at least, not arrive here before she and others could help Cam defeat the Sith.

She knew her feelings toward him, and others like Bo, were stretching the Jedi code, but Serra knew that Cam was important. There was a darkness growing in the galaxy, a fact proven by her Master currently engaging what may well be the first Sith seen in a millennium. Serra wasn't sure if Cam was the one who'd bring light to the galaxy, but she knew he was important to prevent darkness from swallowing every flicker of light.

Now, Serra didn't place any focus on the dealings of the Senate, or indeed the wider Republic, but she knew enough to see that there were big problems. Potentially ones so massive that repairing them before the darkness engulfed the galaxy might be impossible. If that was the case, then Serra knew that order and peace would need to be restored. While she felt she had a role to play in that, she knew Cam had a greater role.

Her visions of the future, of which she'd spoken to no one as she didn't know who to trust with them, showed her at his side. Perhaps not as close as others, and if that was the case she could accept it, for the greater good. However, Cam and another – a Human with blond hair if her visions were accurate – were critical to saving everything.

Serra understood that visions couldn't be entirely trusted, but she felt that within what she was being allowed to glimpse were paths the Force wanted the galaxy to take. That Cam had to survive Naboo. Which was why, as her Master forced the Sith back with a move she'd never seen before, she was glad he was here.

Without Master Drallig, she would already be dead, and Cam would probably also die at the Sith's blade. However, it was also clear that the Sith was challenging her Master, the Order's Battlemaster. While she wasn't sure if or how she could help, she wouldn't stand by and do nothing.

Using the wall behind her to steady herself, she stood and reached out a hand to summon her remaining blade. The shoto blade had been destroyed before she'd been knocked back, and without it, she felt as if a piece of her had been lost. She could still sense the crystal, so once the Sith was defeated, she would recover that and rebuild the hilt, but not having it in her hand, not feeling the Force flow through her and the blade as they moved as one, left her empty. Until then, she'd have to adapt and use her remaining blade, which had been closer to her Master than her when she'd recovered.

Once upright, and as her Master blocked a flurry of blows from the Sith, Serra called the Force for aid, allowing it to heal and numb her wounds. The speed at which Master Drallig and the Sith were duelling was impressive, flickering in and out of her ability to track

She felt she could make a difference, but she had to pick her moment to re-engage, otherwise, it would only lead to her and her Master falling, leaving Cam alone to face the Sith.

If Master Drallig could sense her thoughts now or was able to focus on them, she suspected he would be pleased. When he'd first taken her as his Padawan – one of Serra's proudest days – he'd spoken of her greatest failing; that of rushing in without thinking, without analysing a situation. She knew she still did that, particularly where her friends were concerned, but she felt she'd improved greatly at tempering that failing in herself. Master Drallig had spotted her improvement as well, commenting on it regularly after their spars. Now, she still lost to him, as was to be expected of any Padawan or young Knight, but she felt she would be able to push him within the next few years. As Master Drallig said, her heart was in the right place, but she needed to temper that desire, that emotional failing, to rush in with wisdom. To place herself under the will of the Force and allow it to guide her as needed.

Taking that moment to centre herself, she understood fully that the fight she was about to rejoin was beyond her. Perhaps it might even cost her life, but it was the right thing to do. That the Force wanted her here, at her Master's side, to engage the Sith. As Master Drallig moved back, avoiding a strike from one side of the Sith's double-bladed lightsaber, she waited and watched, seeking the moment the Force wished her to return to the fray.

Cam was approaching, and she could sense the rage in him. Part of her was delighted that the rage he displayed, which echoed out in the Force, was because he'd sensed her in danger. However, the way he seemed to not release that anger, that fury; instead drawing on it concerned her. Years ago, he had taught her that emotions could help a Force user, but she'd been uncertain of those lessons for a while. Yes, emotions like love and joy could empower a Jedi, but the risk of sensing one you cared about could easily lead to passion, anger, and rage. As she sensed in Cam.

Perhaps it was that danger, that difference about him, that had drawn her to him. That had allowed them to become friends and more. Yet, she couldn't help but fear what it could lead to if he failed to control his emotions. She would do what she could to guide him, to help him learn, but she understood and accepted that perhaps he never would fully gain control over his emotions. And that, whatever the future brought, they were tied together in the Force.

Sensing movement in the Force, she let the second of reflection pass and moved forward. Soon Cam would arrive, and with her and her Master, he would defeat the Sith. All she had to do was survive until he arrived, and then ensure he emerged victorious from the battle.

With the Force on her side, she moved forward, sensing her moment. The Zabrak had its back turned, focused on the rapid, flowing strikes her Master was unleashing. Her lightsaber ignited as she drew the Force into her, and called upon it for aid.

As time seemed to slow, as she was able to see individual flakes of dust seeming to hover in the air, the blades of the pair she was rushing toward moved in a blur. Master Drallig was attacking with controlled aggression, his blade seemingly being in three places at once. Yet the Sith was matching his attacks, almost dismissively so.

She almost stumbled as the Force shifted around them, as the Sith bent it to its will, and turned her Master's attacks back on him. While she closed in the pair, and Master Drallig gave his all to block the Sith's renewed furious attacks, Serra sensed something in the Force. Something dangerous, powerful, and familiar. Somewhere there, or perhaps deep within herself, a whisper told, almost demanded, that she take control of the Force. If she wished to save those she cared for, she had to use her power to defeat the Sith.

Leaping into the air, her blade rising high, she ignored the call of the Dark Side. It wouldn't, it couldn't grant her what it promised. Her leap reached its arc, and as the blades of the two other Force users clashed ferociously, she fell: her blade aiming for the Sith's skull.

However, as she neared, the Sith sensed her approach and turned. One of its blades blocked her strike, and it grinned at her. As her feet touched the ground, she understood that the Sith was unimpressed with her attack and that he was stronger than her.

Drawing on lessons with Master Ti, she slid back, letting the Sith's strength guide her in a way she wished. Like with Cam, she understood she'd never match the Zabrak in strength – and perhaps raw power – but instead had to rely on her other attributes. To flow and move with grace and speed, to slide around a larger, stronger, more dangerous opponent.

In the milliseconds that had passed since she landed, she moved. Her body shifted to one side, using the Sith's aggression to turn her even as her blade slid down the Sith's: aiming for his hilt. The Zabrak turned its wrist, avoiding her attack and flowing into one of its own; yet she was ready. With the Force flowing through her, guiding her, she leaned back.

Her vision turned red for a fraction of a second as the Sith's blade swooped overhead. Flickers of plasma in the blade were clear to her as it passed by, but a few stray ends of her hair burnt was all the damage the attack inflicted. Even as the Sith's blade passed over her, her blade was moving, coming up and around and the Sith was forced to lift a leg to avoid losing it. She understood her attack had missed by a wider margin, yet the fact the Force was with her renewed her conviction.

Before the Sith could attack her in turn, Master Drallig re-engaged, drawing the Zabrak's attention. Her Master had sensed her attack, and while he knew it wouldn't touch flesh, he used it, and the slight distraction she created, to his advantage.

The Sith had to block a flourish of strikes from her Master, though as their blades moved and Serra readied herself to rejoin the battle, the Zabrak turned the tables. Quicker than Serra could follow, he turned a defensive parry into a thrust, forcing her Master to surrender momentum. The Sith's twin blades whirled around, seeming to make the very air bleed, and her Master was forced to parry, deflect, or avoid every move the Sith made.

That was the moment Serra was ready again, and with the Force guiding her blade, attacked. The Sith sensed her approach and pulled a hand from the hilt of its blade. Master Drallig, sensing the shift in the force, leapt back, his blade moving while airborne to protect him from a savage thrust of the Sith's lightsaber. The ground where her Master had been standing exploded, ripped apart by the Sith crushing the tiles with the Force.

The Sith's blade came around rapidly, but with the Force as an ally, Serra was ready. When the blades clashed, the energy within each battling for dominance, Serra was shifting, turning. Her blade slid off the Sith's, and she went low, batting away an attack from the other end of the Sith's lightsaber, and then thrust forward.

To avoid being stabbed, the Zabrak was forced back. Its blade came down, slapping hers away contemptuously. However, she'd felt this coming. Rolling her wrists, her blade turned around the Sith's and flicked forward. The attack failed to land, but she was already moving, sliding back to avoid the other end of the Sith's lightsaber.

Her blade came around covering her from attack, and as it was jarred back by the ferocity of the Sith's move, one hand slid from her hilt and crashed into the Zabrak's shin. Any joy she felt from landing a blow against the Sith was short-lived as the Force seemed to buckle in on itself. Before she could brace, she was sent hurtling away, a tidal wave of Force energy slamming into her.

Rolling to control her tumble, she steadied herself just in time to have her vision turn red.

Her blade moved rapidly as she gave herself over to the Force, letting it guide her where she needed to go. Her body shifted, adapting to the will of the Force, sliding to one side to avoid an attack from the Sith even as her blade moved around and deflected another.

Behind the Zabrak, she sensed her Master moving, rushing to her aid, but her focus remained on the Sith, herself, and the Force. If she didn't, then her Master wouldn't rejoin the fray before her life was extinguished.

Shockwaves rippled through her bones each time her blade met the Sith's. The attacks came in faster than she could process, yet with the Force as an ally she was able to evade or deflect the strikes. Yet, she knew she was being driven back, losing ground and energy with each move, each clash shaking her very core. And under it all, still present and ever offering, was that small nagging voice, begging her to reach out and take the power she needed, and in her desperation, she couldn't deny the whispers. She was slowing, struggling to meet his attacks, to simply survive. Even with the Force guiding her, it wasn't enough. She needed more time, more skill, and more power.

As that realisation came to be, the Sith's blade slipped past her defence. Plasma crashed against metal, and sparks flew. She pulled her arm back, the controls on her vambrace ruined by the Zabraks' blade. If not for the beskar of the gauntlets, she'd have lost her hand.

The Sith grunted in annoyance at being denied her limb and attacked with renewed fury. Every strike she blocked felt as if it was cracking her bones, every evasion was so close what remained of her robes were gone, the durasteel of her armour melting from the lightsaber as it grazed across the surface.

Another attack broke through, crashing against her foot. Again, the beskar she had saved her limb, as it did a third and fourth time. Serra was growing desperate, adapting by necessity the beskar she wore into her defence. She knew it couldn't last, that eventually, the Sith would strike her somewhere not protected by beskar, but he was now moving so fast she simply couldn't move fast enough to keep up with even half his attacks.

Pain lanced through her side, and she stumbled back, avoiding a swipe of the Zabrak's lightsaber that would've taken her arm. She hissed, understanding why it hurt. Either the super-heated durasteel or the plasma of his blade had burnt her stomach. Her blade came around, seeking to block the Sith's next assault, but she was slow.

The strike against her blade staggered her, a hand slipping from her hilt to stabilize herself. Another strike against her blade, and it was jarred from her hand, the blade diffusing moments after the hilt slipped from her gasp.

The Force screamed a warning, and trusting it she leaned back. The heat of the Sith's blade flashed past her neck, seeping through the underweave, and making it clear how close she'd come to losing her head. As she kept moving, desperately avoiding strikes she saw one of her braided ponytails fly away, the Sith's blade having caught it in the last attack. Even as she processed that, something jammed into her gut.

She stumbled back, falling to a knee. Glancing up she saw the Sith looming large over her, a satisfied look in his eyes as his blade swirled around. Accepting her fate, her head dropped. "I'm sorry." The words slipped from her lips, hoping her Master and Cam understood she'd tried. That she'd only come here to help.

The red blade swooped down, overpowering her vision, only to be snuffed out by a vibrant green.

Looking up, warmth filled her heart as she saw her Master's blade blocking the Sith's. Determination in the set of his face and eyes. Her Master thrust out a hand, knocking the Sith back. He glanced at her, relief clear in his eyes, before rushing to re-engage the Sith.

She pulled herself to her feet as the pair clashed. Their blades moved rapidly, flying around and turning the air around them into spheres of green and red, shifting to white where the blades clashed together. Serra's eyes widened as she felt her Master drawing heavily, moving at speeds on par with any member of the High Council. The Sith, however, was matching her Master strike for strike.

Attacks of Djem So were countered and then returned with movements that she'd never seen, and it pained her to admit the Sith was good, if not brilliant. He standing his ground as the Jedi Order's Battlemaster used every nugget of knowledge he had gained over decades serving the Force and the Order.

Yet through it all, she sensed the Force shifting, twisting, twirling. The outcome of this battle was already decided, and as she realised the victor, she found herself racing forward. Her lightsaber flew into her hand, the blade igniting as the missing part of herself returned to her grasp.

Barely a metre from the pair, the Force lurched violently, and she stumbled, slipping to a knee.

Her eyes widened as the pair stopped, the red light of the Sith's blade piercing out from her Master's back. She watched in horror as Master Drallig's blade fell from his grasp, the hilt falling so slowly as time seemed to stop.

Looking deep into her master's eyes the Sith seemed to be taking satisfaction in his victory and in the next second the blade was ripped free of her Master's chest and, with a brutal back swipe, slashed his body in half. As Master Drallig's body slumped to the ground, his head turned to her. For a moment where time seemed to stop, his eyes found hers and with his last thought, he reached out to her.

Her mind did likewise, not wanting to lose the person closer to her than any other; someone she considered a father. Yet, before she could reach his thoughts, the light faded from his eyes, and she felt him become one with the Force.

The Zabrak stalked toward her, its blade scraping the ground, sending dust flying around menacingly. Serra looked at him, seeing the coldness, the contempt in the Sith's eyes. Not only did he not consider her a challenge, but he was also already looking beyond her. Toward his true target. Toward Cam.

Serra's gaze returned to the lifeless body of her Master, of his lightsaber that lay unpowered next to his dead hand. He had taken her in and trained her for over five years. And this Sith, this monster, had ended his life simply because she had come to this planet, and Master Drallig had followed.

Finding the voice inside her, the one offering her power, she stood. Her hands opened and the twin blades flew to them. Her blade and that of her Master.

The Sith paused, its eyes widening slightly as she took control of the voice, of what it offered.

The Zabrak had taken her father. He would not take the only person left that mattered to her.

With the rage of her loss, and the threat of what was at stake, swirling in her, the Force reacted to her. It did as she wanted.

The power flowed through her as she rushed toward the Sith.

He braced, readying himself for her assault.

The anger, sorrow, fear, fury, everything whirling around inside her became focused on the Sith, and with it corralled she screamed a challenge at him.

And the Force screamed with her.

… …

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… …
A/N: If you have them, enjoy the holidays, and say goodbye to Battlemaster Cin Drallig.
He was a good Jedi.
… …
This story is crossposted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of our Own, and Royal Road.
You can find me (and the backroom team who help with this) on Discord at:
For this series: Heart of the Force
For general chaos/Gamer stories: Shiro's Gaming Omniverse

If you wish to - for all but the lowest level - get 2 months of advanced drafts and more for all my works, you can consider supporting my work at:
Patreon: USSExplorer
SubscribeStar: USSExplorer

---

Regardless if you join the discord or support my writing, I hope you enjoy the story and suggestions, valid criticisms, and ideas are always welcome.
And of course;

May the Force be with you. Always.​

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Its good to see you still got it

 

[Kulha]

I'd have preferred it if Serra died.

 

[Moran]

I woudn't be surprised if the Council make Cam a temporary Battlemaster as punishment, a way to confine him to the Temple, keeping him under heavy scrutiny, and make use of his Teaching skill.

 

[USSExplorer]

I'd have preferred it if Serra died.

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I woudn't be surprised if the Council make Cam a temporary Battlemaster as punishment and a way to confine him to the Temple, under heavy scrutiny.

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^ Cam's response to that idea.

 

[JohnSmithMIB]

I am glad she didn't die but also a bit annoyed Cam got delayed. I think seeing him try to work with Drallig in combat would have been a great sequence since he'd be dealing with his emotions and also maybe being forced to make it through his skill block.

 

[Anonymous Fapper]

If you have them, enjoy the holidays, and say goodbye to Battlemaster Cin Drallig.
He was a good Jedi.

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Very nice!!!

 

[Coldfire142]

That's a nice start of the fight to use force scream to disorient and distract an opponent, well if thats what she just did.

 

[alec_potter]

Really enjoyable read. Looking forward to Cam vs Maul.
Serra would probably survive but expect with some permanent scar( other than mental) from the battle with Maul. Losing a hand probably.
Looking forward to Cam and Serra meeting Sia. Childhood friend who has been left so far behind (in skills and experience).

 

[ClassHole]

Solid chapter overall, but honestly I feel like the story was heavily manipulated to keep Cam from Maul so you can write the Cin Drallig death scene. Seems mighty convenient stuff just keeps getting in Cams way slowing him down from reaching Sera and Cin. Maul is actively looking for Cameron, you'd think he'd have ordered everyone to let him through, not keep sending waves of people at him... Not to mention, why is Cam suppressing his presence in the Force anyways? He wants Maul to come to him.... he should be blasting his potential as loud as he can. He actively doesn't want Maul to meet with Sera, yet he hides his presence, forcing Maul to go towards the presences he can see.... which includes Sera.... kind of illogical. I'll assume you wanted to kill Cin Drallig off so Sera will go Dark Side here, and then its easier for Cam to continue to plow her I guess.... but meh, seems kind of forced.

Personally I also think Maul's been slightly overskilled here too. Maul's a lightsaber savant for sure, but Drallig shouldn't be barely able to fend him off, it should be an even slugfest at best. He was personally trained by Yoda and has tons of experience fighting a version of this style in helping Mace develop Vaapaad. Beating Jinn made sense, he wasn't specifically combat focused, wasn't in his prime, and his style didn't suit the surroundings, fighting against Maul's Juyo, or his aging body anymore. Cin keeps in top shape and his skills honed perfectly due to constant instructing, and is probably Top 5 in the current Order with a blade.... Top 10 easily. Again, I'm not saying that means he can't lose to Maul.... it should just have been a lot harder.... or due to cheap tactics or something...... it seemed far too easy.

I enjoyed most of the battle scenes, though I'm quite confused on why the chick who took over the Lucrehulk just let the ship she captured smoke a bunch of Naboo pilots with their Vultures at the start.... seemed like the whole "gotcha" moment could've been like 2 minutes sooner and saved a fair amount of lives? I'm hoping the Lokella get to snag this Lucrehulk after all of this is over. could always use more for the fleet!

Also not surprised at all Jar Jar managed to fuck something up.... he couldn't be more useless. Thats his MO though lol

 

[LuciferBael]

Personally I also think Maul's been slightly overskilled here too

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Gonna be honest this is the only one I feel like responding to atm, the previous battlemaster who was arguably more skilled or at least just as skilled was so overwhelmed by maul just a few weeks prior to this in the timeline that he went for a suicide move to kill Maul and still failed

 

[ClassHole]

Gonna be honest this is the only one I feel like responding to atm, the previous battlemaster who was arguably more skilled or at least just as skilled was so overwhelmed by maul just a few weeks prior to this in the timeline that he went for a suicide move to kill Maul and still failed

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I don't believe its ever been officially confirmed Anton Bondara was the Jedi Battlemaster actually, people just assume he was because he was known to be an instructor at the Temple for lightsaber combat before Drallig was.

Either way, yes he was a master duelist. However, my issue was never that Cin lost, its that it seemed barely a challenge for Maul. Also, while Bondara did lose, he was a shitty match up for Maul, in that he also prefered Juyo and more physical brawling while dueling. He was basically am older, less aggressive, Jedi version of Maul, and pitted against Maul, given the style Juyo's aggressive tendancies, its no wonder he lost. Cin Drallig stacks up far better in my opinion, and again, I don't think its absurd he lost, I just think it happened way too fast and seemed far too easy. Also, given how you've framed Cam's skill with the lightsaber, especially against the Masters at the temple, the idea of him defeating Maul seems laughable now. So when he eventually does, unless its using some pussy ass cheap shot, I think some will have trouble buying it. Had Maul seriously struggled to topple Drallig, and maybe come away from the battle injured, it'd be far more plausible Cam could win against him.

 

[LuciferBael]

Cin Drallig stacks up far better in my opinion

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Tbf that is very debatable considering Anakin beat him easily with a single hand in ROTS, so evening it out between that and his ROTS game showing Maul should definitely handle him pretty easily considering Maul at this point is about Plo Koon level

As for Cam, we have what does happen done rather believable I feel

 

[alanek]

Just binge read this over the last several days.

Give me back my sleep *shakes fist*


Not much to say in depth duebto the whole lack of sleep, but thank you! It's been a great read.

 

[Ashak]

Heart of the Force [2/2]

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What effect had the 2/2 perk? Because if I remember correctly the first half pushed his medicl... count to 28k.

 

[LuciferBael]

What effect had the 2/2 perk? Because if I remember correctly the first half pushed his medicl... count to 28k.

Click to shrink...

You do not remember right, the second one pushed it to 25k

 

[USSExplorer]

A/N:
As always, thanks to those helping me write and plan out this story and checking it for continuality and logic errors.

This chapter was released at least 3 weeks ago to my Patreons (with them seeing a draft version around 2 months ago) and on the story's Discord server (in GDoc form) about a week ago.
Links for both are at the end of the chapter.
Hopefully, all the little mistakes have been found and removed.

As before, this chapter has multiple POVs. However, most of the focus is where I'm sure people want it to be.

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Phantom Menace 5
... ...​

(Maul's POV)

He pulled himself to his feet, the Force bending to his demands, his rage powered by the shock of this Jedi's actions. Throughout the entirety of the battle with her Master, Maul hadn't been concerned by her, regarding her as nothing more than a slight obstacle. Yet, not only had she managed to get the drop on him, but she'd drawn on the Dark Side, twisted it to her desire, as well.

For all it was worth, that alone earned her Maul's consideration. She had potential, though corrupted by the Jedi's flawed teachings, even if she would never live to realise it. Still, like the Master, the Padawan wasn't his reason for being here. Nor was the planetary conflict, one that Maul's Master had arranged, his focus any longer.

No, he was here for Shan.

Lord Sidious spoke often of the young Jedi, how he had seen that Shan was a threat to the Sith and the Grand Plan, and that was why Maul was here. Yet, whenever his Master spoke of Shan, Maul sensed something else, just at the very edges of Sidious' thoughts. Hints that Sidious considered Shan interesting, useful even, not just to the Grand Plan, but as a potential replacement for Maul. For that, more than anything, Shan would die by his hands this day.

Maul's place was at Sidious' side, learning from his master as he positioned the pieces for the Sith to achieve their ultimate revenge against the Jedi. No being, certainly no Jedi, was capable of preventing that. Nor denying Maul further tutelage under Sidious until the time came, and like Sidious and the Dark Lords before them, Maul would kill and replace Sidious; taking control of the galaxy Sidious would create when the Jedi fell.

However, before that, and before Shan fell, Maul had an unexpected nuisance to eliminate. Delightful rage radiated from the female as she came at him. His blade moved, easily swatting away her first attack, and as the second attack came in, he blocked it and twisted his blade to bind hers. As their lightsabers pressed against each other, he stared at her, examining her.

This child was merely playing with the Dark Side, drawing upon it in a time of need. She didn't understand its depths, its power, its glory like he did. As their blades broke apart, Maul wondered if she might have potential as his Apprentice, but he quickly dismissed that. She was too steeped in the ill-informed dogma of the Jedi to be of use. Nor was Maul ready to replace his Master. For all that this child twisted the Dark Side to her, Maul bathed in it, savoured every shred of pain, anger, desolation, and destruction it wrought; and how he broke it to his needs. To do as he commanded.

Sliding back, he watched the Jedi's blade flash toward him. Nowhere near close enough to cut him, even if the Jedi had sensed the move coming and lunged forward, yet close enough that it would enrage her. His blade then came around, pushing her blade away faster, forcing her off-balance. The other end of his lightsaber came up, aiming to strike her head from her shoulders, but the girl sensed it coming and ducked away, using his push of her blade to hasten her retreat.

She'd barely managed to reset her footing before she attacked again, green clashing against red as he defended almost dismissively. In the brief moment where their blades pushed against each other, she snarled, her rage breaking through the calm visage one would expect of a Jedi.

A grin split his face, she may have been unable to even scratch him, but she and her master were a fine warm-up.

The Force bent to his will, flowing through and strengthening his body, making this strike strong enough that she stumbled. The other end of his lightsaber flicked up, intent on slashing her chest open. He was pleased to see that, as she moved back, she was able to bring her blade around to deflect his attack.

Once she's recovered her base, she glared at him with eyes full of malice, which caused his grin to widen. His eyes flicked to the side, to where part of her Master's body, and his lightsaber, lay. This was the Battlemaster of the Jedi, but to Maul, the Jedi he'd killed on Coruscant several months earlier was the greater threat, the more skilled fighter. Both had fallen to his blade, the gulf in skill evident.

The Padawan surged forward, her blade sweeping in. Ripping the knowledge of where she would go from the force, Maul evaded the first attack and then brought his blade up, blocking a quick second strike. Her attack had been easy to sense coming, but even if she was to die soon, he wanted to savour this before his fight with Shan.

His arm was strong and unyielding but even so he could feel the force of her strikes, an untrained surge of the Dark Side strengthening her body beyond what she had been able to muster before.

Pushing her blade away, Maul wondered what had caused her to draw on the Dark Side instead of fighting it like so many other Jedi, the padawan of the Twi'lek certainly hadn't drawn on it no matter her desperation. It was simple to sense that she'd barely hesitated and that drew Maul's curiosity. With time before Shan arrived, he strode forward making sure to press her just enough that she could still block.

Through the hazed blur generated by the plasma of their weapons fighting for dominance, he looked at her, and through the Force, slipped into her thoughts. Her mind was a mess, the death of her Master destroying much of her mental discipline, but he felt the control she was displaying over the Dark Side, and reached toward it.

Images of her Master throughout her life leaked into his thoughts, making him sneer at how pathetically the Jedi trained their warriors. How they coddled them. To build a warrior, one must break them; train them with pain and suffering. Things the Jedi failed to understand.

Their blades strived against each other, and he sensed a false belief growing in her that she could avenge her Master. Smiling at that further angered her, opening her mind wider to his probe. Pushing deeper, Maul blinked. The other end of his lightsaber flicked out like a sand viper, forcing the Jedi to move to deflect it.

The upper part of his blade was shifting around even as she deflected the lower half of his weapon, yet the killing blow failed to land. While he had pushed into her thoughts, he'd missed the slight shift of the Force and allowed her to summon another blade to hand; that of her fallen Master. Yet even so, her rearming herself with two blades failed to change anything, the Padawan attacked without restraint, Maul centring himself in the maelstrom allowed her to keep attacking, taking the fleeting moments in time between her attacks to analyse what he'd ripped from her mind.

This Jedi, this child, was important to Shan. It had been he who taught her to harness her emotions. Those methods, while inefficient and flawed as they focused on drawing on all emotions, had taken root in this child. That, and her connection to Shan, had Maul re-evaluating his target, and the girl trying to kill him.

Nothing changed in that the girl would die. Even if she was nothing more than a Padawan, Maul took pride in every Jedi he killed; in how every death brought the Grand Plan closer to fruition and she had earned a worthy death. Yet this girl shared a deep connection to his target, one that ran deep into what this Padawan was. An attachment that showed the hypocrisy of the Jedi for all it was. That attachment would do nothing more than delay her death, allowing him to use this girl against his true target.

Smiling in renewed anticipation, Maul pressed forward. Shan was close, deliciously so. His rage flaring when Maul had hurt this girl made sense now, and it granted Maul an opportunity to see how far Shan would go when that rage threatened to consume him.

From the reports and recordings Lord Sidious had given him, Maul had little doubt he could defeat Shan. Yes, the Jedi had unusual abilities, but Maul had already scoured Sith training holocrons for methods to counter such abilities, and even began, outside of his Master's knowledge, experimenting with them himself. While the droids Maul trained with couldn't entirely duplicate Shan's abilities, they granted Maul enough insight that he had several dozen counters ready should Shan foolishly try to use them. So much so that, before realising the rage in Shan, and his connection to this girl, Maul had thought he would defeat Shan even more easily than he had the Battlemaster.

Even with his ability to draw on his rage, Maul knew Shan was still falling. However, His Master had taught him, regularly and painfully, that it was easier to defeat anyone when they were off balance or distracted. This girl, who was barely able to hold her own against his mere training strikes, would serve to grant Maul that edge against Shan, as much as he would prefer to give her a quick and honourable death.

Maul flicked his hilt, feigning attack against one side. The girl, struggling to contain her rage, fell for it. One blade came around to defend against the false strike, and Maul's arms shifted. His blade danced around hers, the other end of his blade sliding inside her guard; thrusting toward where he'd wounded her earlier.

Maul could feel his respect grow as she reacted. Not only did she shift to avoid the strike, but her second blade came around, forcing Maul to abandon the idea of pushing forward for an assured strike. Doing that would've left him exposed to her second blade, and while he could ignore the pain of a glancing lightsaber blow, he wished to be in as good a condition as possible against Shan just in case he proved more difficult than expected.

Yet even as she blocked one half of his weapon he twisted around her side to take out the other blade from the line of contact while the other end flicked forward to graze her. Pain and anger flowed into the Force as she winced and as she pulled back, she felt a second source of rage join hers.

As Maul expected, Shan had sensed and reacted to Maul's attack landing. Wanting to further his target's rage, Maul's hand slipped from his hilt as he stepped in and caught her wrist as she twisted around to lash out at him. The Force bent to his demand, strengthening his grip as his fingers found the small gap between the armour on her hand and forearm.

A muted grunt of pain slipped from behind clenched teeth. Maul heard the bones cracking as the lightsaber gripped in the Padawan's hand, that of her former Master's, fell. As her other blade came around he turned off one blade on his saber as the other twisted around to catch it and twist it away before he reactivated his other blade to skim across her leg.

This time, the girl's scream was unrestrained, and Maul drank in her pain, and the flaring fury that came from Shan. If not for Maul's grip, the girl would've fallen to her knees. Without pause, he pivoted and used the Force to throw her hard across the courtyard.

Tiles and dirt were tossed up as she slammed and then bounced against the ground, her lightsaber falling away and flickering off as she struggled to control her body, and handled the sparks of pain as various wounds pounded against hard surfaces.

Maul advanced toward her, relishing the moment when realisation dawned in her eyes upon seeing him once more. Though she understood she had been defeated, that her fate lay in the imminent encounter with his blade, Maul acknowledged a certain gravity in her fear. It wasn't just about losing; it was a fear rooted in her perceived failure to protect Shan.

As her good hand extended, guided by the Force to retrieve her blade, Maul decisively brought his boot down, applying pressure to crush her hand beneath his heel. A cry of pain echoed through the courtyard as bones shattered under the force of his attack.

After grinding his foot to ensure the hand was fully out of commission, Maul stepped back. He stood poised, fully aware that he could end her life at that moment. However, he stopped for a second, giving her a subtle nod of respect, acknowledging her struggle. Sensing Shan's proximity, Maul chose to prolong the inevitable, allowing the Jedi to witness the consequences of his inability to safeguard someone dear to him. Concurrently, Maul felt the currents of the Force shifting around the girl, detecting her drawing on the Dark Side once again.

Recognizing the potential challenge she might pose upon Shan's arrival, Maul's blade came around to bring her life to a swift end. Yet, as the crimson light of his blade approached, illuminating her face, she screamed anew—the power of the Dark Side amplifying her voice.

Maul had realised at the last second he wouldn't be able to stop her, and had shifted his body, bracing for the attack as he drew the force into a barrier in front of his body. His lightsaber seared a trough in the ground, slowing his movement, and when the girl slumped, her body exhausted and her rage failing, Maul had only been driven several metres.

He advanced with purpose, seething with anger over his recent failure to anticipate her Force Scream. The first instance could be forgiven, as it wasn't in any file he possessed on the girl or Shan. However, the second occurrence was both insulting and humiliating. Aware that his Master would undoubtedly punish him for this lapse, Maul prepared his blade. Any notion of prolonging her demise to torment Shan was pushed aside by the urgency to rectify his mistake.

As he strode forward, his blade rising with lethal intent. The respect from their previous exchange lingered. His weapon poised high, ready to deliver a swift strike, he locked eyes with her. Despite the inevitability of her impending death, she met his gaze with unwavering defiance. She had accepted her fate but refused to meet it with fear. Maul's respect for her was not unearned and he resolved to make sure the strike was quick and sure.

… …
(Cam's POV)

I flinched slightly as I felt Drallig die. While that was concerning, and proof of how dangerous Maul was, I couldn't dwell upon it. Not when it was accompanied by a surge of anguish, disbelief and then fury. Then that fury lashed out, and I knew Serra had drawn on the Dark Side again. I had an idea of how she'd lashed out, in desperation over Drallig dying, but again, that wasn't important. Her attack, whatever it had been, would only anger Maul.

I could sense them both just around the corner of the building in front of me and knew Maul would strike back, ending Serra for daring to attack him with the Dark Side. Yet, as I took another step toward the last corner separating me from my targets, I felt the Force shift; or at least Serra's emotions within it.

Six steps from the corner, I felt Serra draw on and focus her anger, using it to power her actions. I remembered our lessons from years on harnessing such things, but I understood now that I'd been in error when I'd suggested that. The Dark Side was far more than just the Force used when suffering from negative emotions. Adas's holocron – which I'd only used when alone and far from the Coruscant and other Jedi – had driven that lesson home.

The Dark Side would offer her a boost, one she would, in her rage, draw upon. However, without understanding how the Dark Side worked to worm its way into someone, how it sought control over them while offering power and energy, one was at risk of losing themselves to their emotions and desires and becoming a pawn of the Dark Side. With the sorrow and wrath radiating from Serra, I knew she was in danger of just that happening; if she survived Maul long enough for me to reach her.

Five steps from the corner, there was another shift in the Force. The Dark Side was focused on a new presence. One of immense power and capability. That had to be Maul bending it to his will; proving he understood – as I'd expected – the nature of the Dark Side. While I knew I didn't, I was at least more aware of the danger it posed, and how now, even drawing on her fury, Serra was nothing more than a bug on the windshield to Maul.

Anger built inside me at the thought of how outmatched Serra was, yet as my foot crashed to the ground, bringing me ever closer to the corner, I pushed the anger down. I wasn't going to lose control against Maul. If I did for too long, he'd kill me with ease. Hell, even if I remained in control, he might still defeat me, even with all the tools I'd brought to this fight.

Maul had killed Drallig today, and Qui-Gon and countless others in the other timeline, and to defeat him, I needed to be smart and remain in control.

Vosa had toyed with me, wanting to tempt me to the Dark Side, to serve her. The Vong had been cautious against me, testing me in battle to learn what they could. In both cases, they're goal hadn't been a quick and decisive kill, and it was only through dumb luck – and perhaps some amount of skill – that I'd survived my encounters with both.

Maul was a different beast. Unlike Vosa, he wasn't just a Dark Side Adept but a full-fledged Sith. One bred to hunt and kill Jedi; one far more skilled and experienced than me.

Four steps from the corner, I felt the Force shift again, as if Maul was curious about, or contemplating something. Serra was alive still, her rage burning brightly as it focused her entirely on Maul, and it felt like she was holding her own. I knew that couldn't be true, which meant either the Dark Side was deceiving her, or she was blinded by her rage.

Maul would've had files on Serra because of me. While he might not have expected to encounter her here, if he was even half as smart as I expected, or Sidious as thorough in his training, then Maul had studied and trained for not just myself, but everyone close to me. Including Serra. Yet in the seconds that had passed since Drallig's death, Maul hadn't killed her. Almost as if he was toying with her, killing time until I arrived.

Fear grew inside me as another step toward the corner was taken. Maul was keeping her alive simply to have me watch her die. The dust launched from my foot crashing against the ground seemed stationary as my mind raced. The Force allowing me to process information and move on par with a computer, if not the processing speed of droids like R2 or HK. Normally, that allowed me to analyse everything going on, to find avenues to take. Yet here and now, it only served to grant me more time to fear for Serra; of arriving simply to watch Maul kill her.

I shifted my path toward the building, intent on rushing through it. While Teleport was not viable, as it left me momentarily disorientated when I emerged, Phase had no such limitations. I cursed as I pulled the Force to me for not thinking of the power earlier when Serra had first engaged Maul, as I could've simply rushed through the buildings to where she and Drallig were engaging Maul. Far too often, in situations where my anger or adrenaline got the better of me, I fell back on what I knew, what I trusted from my former life, and failed to use the Force to the fullest of my abilities.

Three steps from the corner, pain slammed into me, making me almost lose my grip on my anger, and forcing me to stumble slightly away from the building, back toward my original path. Serra was hurt, badly. The urge to obliterate Maul, to rend him limb from limb, surged through me. That faint voice, the whispered offer of help from the Dark Side echoed in my head, asking me to accept it, to revel in my desires. Yet, as Serra's pain continued to echo in the Force, I pushed aside that offer. Even as Maul's delight and amusement became clear; I resisted the urge to draw on my rage.

Resignation from Serra flowed into the Force as I took another step closer. She understood, through the haze of her pain, that she'd lost. She was ready to join her Master in the Force. I, however, wasn't ready to allow that.

I opened my mind, wanting to offer her hope, only to slip. A new, powerful well of anger rose within Serra, and with my mind open to her, I was bathed in it. Her anger boiled, her fury rose, and I sensed what was coming.

As I reached a single step from the corner, I stopped. The air in front of me erupted, my HUD reporting an energy-powered shockwave erupting from where I knew Serra had been. Without the armour, my ears would've likely bled as the HUD showed chunks of the wall all but vapourised by the concussive force of the wave.

Debris bounced off my armour, the only issue being the kinetic force, but with the wall taking the brunt of Serra's Scream, I was unharmed. Rounding the corner, I saw Serra on the ground, slumped over with her head hung low. Striding toward her with all the grace of a nexu, a deep gouge in the ground between them, was Maul. Flickers of rage burnt in his yellow eyes and his blade was readying itself to strike down my wounded and unarmed lover.

Even as I moved a step closer, I knew I was too far away to block Maul's blade; and any Force attack would strike them both. Left with little choice, as another step closer was taken, my saber slipped from my hand, the Force sending it racing ahead of me.

The blade spiralled through the air, cutting a swathe of black and white as it spun forward, even as it felt as if time slowed to a crawl. Mauls' blade was beginning its descent, aiming to remove Serra's head. Her eyes turned my way, either sensing my arrival or spotting my blade from the corner of her eyes. Through the Force I sensed resignation; acceptance that this was her time to become one with the Force. I, however, wasn't willing to accept that and demanded the Force accelerate my blade so it might reach her in time.

My foot crashed to the ground, dragging me ever closer as I ripped my beskad from its magnetic sheathe. Recognition flashed in Maul's eyes, and his blade altered its angle. The blades clashed together, mine sent clattering away. The hilt could've, in theory, survived a strike as I'd added sections of phrik to the casing. There were gaps in the coverage though, and I was relieved the design hadn't been tested.

As my lightsaber spun away, I instinctively reached out, pulling it back into my grasp. Maul pivoted to squarely face me, the back of his saber staff hurtling toward Serra's abdomen. Locking eyes with me, he seemed undeterred by my appearance.

Despite being a few metres away and recognizing the absence of alternatives, I knew I had no other choice. Summoning the Force to me, the hand wielding my beskad thrust forward, unleashing a concentrated Force Blast aimed directly at them. I understood the consequence – Serra would bear the brunt of the impact, defenceless in the face of the impending force. Yet, in that moment, it seemed a more merciful fate than the alternative – a lightsaber through the gut.

I could only watch as the ground in front of them exploded as the Force Blast impacted, feeling faint surprise in the Force from Maul an instant before it happened. Debris was sent hurtling everywhere, blinding my sight, but the HUD and the Force tracked both as they were struck by the Force Blast's shockwave.

Serra was unable to defend herself, and slammed into the ground about five metres away, sending more dust and debris into the air. Her hands hung uselessly as she flew, the HUD confirming both were broken, and there was a burn to her left side. Not deep enough that it was fatal, but enough that it would've slowed her in battle. And now, as she tumbled away, grunts of pain and anguish came for her each time any part of her body collided with something, and her shattered hands were preventing her from doing anything to slow or prevent the pain of each collision. Yet, for all her pain, my focus shifted to Maul.

Unlike Serra, he'd braced for the attack, and while it had driven him back, he'd landed in an easy relaxed stance. Already I could sense the Force shifting around him, and I turned, bracing myself for an attack.

We raced toward each other, the debris filling the air was no impediment to us knowing where the other was. Red light diffused in the cloud, and for any without armour or the Force, it would be near impossible to track where the weapon was.

My lightsaber clashed against the, for–now, upper section of his blade. He glared at me, rage mixed with expectation and desire. While I wanted this duel to end quickly, not just so I could help Serra but because I feared it dragging on, I knew it wouldn't. Maul was too skilled, too dangerous to fall quickly.

His arms moved, changing the angle of his lightsaber. My lightsaber moved as well, deflecting an attack from the other end of his blade. Yet, we both knew that was simply a feint and the upper section of the blade returned to the attack from my other side. However, I was ready and my beskad flicked out, stymying the attack.

A faint flicker of confusion from Maul was soon drowned out by a dark rage. He launched into a flurry of attacks, the air in front of my armour being dyed blood red. Even as my blades and I moved, blocking, deflecting, and evading the strikes, I was forced back several steps.

I knew what moves he was using, the limits of a double-bladed lightsaber, something I'd studied intently whenever I could, from Jedi Masters, the Great Holocron and any other source I could access, yet they were coming in faster than anything I'd seen unless Dooku fully drew on his power in a spar.

As the assault continued, and I kept being forced to step back, it became clear he wasn't going full out. Nor, even after killing Drallig and defeating Serra, was he close to tired. Yet, I was holding my own, at least for now.

Maul suddenly disengaged, taking a few steps back. Casual disinterest appeared on his face even as the Force shifted around him. I sensed him probing my mind, looking for insight into my thoughts; into how I'd fight. I did the same in return, though I knew neither of us would succeed in the brief mental battle for insight.

As we studied each other it granted me time to consider the flowing, aggressive nature of his attacks. As I'd expected, he was a Juyo practitioner, but I was slightly surprised by the forms that made up his base. Ataru and Djem So were standard but I had not thought to look for Soresu when facing the Zabrak.

Yet, even with all that knowledge instantly accessible via Eidetic Memory, I was unsure if I knew even half of how Maul would fight.

Knowing I had to maintain some form of advantage, I pushed forward, the vectors for my attacks already plotted out and prepared. He slid back, letting the thrust of my lightsaber miss, and then flicked the blade away with his weapon. The other end came around, blocking a low slice of the beskad. My lightsaber came in again, higher this time, followed by another flicking attack of the beskad. Those he again deflected and avoided, as he did with my next dozen attacks. As he did so, I sensed disappointment, as if my approach was beneath him.

Which it was.

Like him, my opening assault hadn't been at full speed, nor anything beyond textbook perfect. Which was something the files on me that Sidious would've given him would've stated.

He then slipped back, a small use of the Force re-establishing the distance between us. I moved forward, not wanting to give up the attack. As our blades clashed again, sparks of red and black dancing together as the plasma crackled from contact, a hand slipped from his hilt.

I could only watch as he flicked his wrist. Terror raced through me as the HUD reported a nearby building, the one Serra was slumped against the base of, cracking due to some unknown – to the HUD – force. I moved my blade, breaking the bind, planning to strike against that with my beskad, but Maul had expected this.

In the fraction of a second, after I disengaged, he attacked. His blade flicked forward, bound for my head. I had to move my lightsaber up to block, pushing his blade away. He went with the move, using my action to guide him into his next move.

My beskad went low, blocking the attack from the other end of his weapon even as he turned; my lightsaber still pushing the other end of his blade away from my head. He pivoted, exposing his back but his lightsaber twirled around his body to cover any opening that caused, forcing me to slide back to avoid a strike.

That prevented me from either attacking him or doing anything to help Serra and when I'd reset my stance, he was already facing me, directly between me and Serra. His hand was still free from the hilt, my HUD reporting further damage to the building above Serra.

One of my hands reached out, wanting to grasp Serra and pull her from danger, yet I'd barely had time to gather my thoughts on the Force, to wrap it around her body, before I was forced to abandon the move. Maul's lightsaber had struck out, and I had to defend against it.

As our blades clashed, the HUD reported the building break. Risking it, I flicked out my arm, sending a Force Blast toward Serra. The building collapsed, removing her from my sensors, and I couldn't divert attention to search for her through the Force as Maul continued his attack.

Our blades moved, a symphony of red, white, black, and shining silver swirling in the dust, and I felt my panic slowly rising: Fear of having failed to save Serra grasping my heart.

Maul must've sensed this, as when next our blades clashed, and he stepped back he said. "Another dead Jedi," he said, the voice only just carrying to the armour's audio sensors over the sounds of the nearby building crashing to the ground.

Those words, wrapped in disgust, lit the fuse. A grunt slipped from my lips as the fury inside rose, threatening to drown me. I pushed Maul back, and before attacking him, before my anger overwhelmed me, I sent a signal through the Battlenet. Osto would, I hope, respond, and move to help, yet my focus was entirely on Maul; on making him pay for hurting, and possibly killing, Serra.

Rage powered my strikes, drawing a grin from Maul as his blade swirled around, creating a barrier that my attacks failed to pierce. My attacks were aggressive, but he was a stone in the river, an eye of hate and anger that my attacks could not pierce.

Through those gaps, Maul attacked, and I was left with no recourse but to defend. Even as my anger fuelled my speed and strength, I was forced back. My blades moved around, deflecting his attacks, defending me and I was continually on the move avoiding the strikes, thrusts, and sweeps that slipped by my defences.

My anger eased slightly as I sensed Serra was alive, though the HUD couldn't confirm that. Still, I pulled back, tightening my defences, leaving my counters as late as I dared. I knew this fight still had a long way to go.

Maul must've sensed my fury subside as the ferocity of his attacks increased, driving me back further. Each blow I could only block rattled my arm. Even now, daring to hold back as much as I could, Maul wasn't pressing his advantage. At least not to the degree that I'd have expected.

Another gap in my defences wasn't punished. Instead, he pulled back, and as he reached out to finish ripping the building down my hand flashed forward, a blast ripping forth to send Maul hurtling back.

My fury rose once more at his attempt. My sight narrowed until only Maul existed, and with rage surging through my veins, I rushed forward; a desire for vengeance pumping in my heart.

… …

---

… …
(Asta's POV)

She watched silently from the captain's chair of the Saak'ak as the allied fleet laid into the Federation's forces.

The Naboo fighters had resulted in the Federation fleet shifting, the Saak'ak moving to defend against the threat while the Vuutun Palaa and Luuhan moved to higher orbits. Control of around half the droids in Theed, and about a tenth of those battling on the plains to the south had shifted to the Saak'ak so the other vessels could avoid even a hint of attack from the handful of fighters Naboo had launched.

Yet, that was when the Ne'tra Tal'ade had arrived at the head of the combined Mando'ade and Lokella'ade fleet. While old, the dreadnought was a relic from before the Dral'Han that had escaped the fate of her sister ships. The Black Blood Warrior was better armed than many starships of the current era, and certainly a Federation Lucrehulk.

However, three-to-one odds, even backed by the combined fleet, would've left the Ne'tra Tal'ade exposed, which was why the plan to take the Saak'ak had been hatched. Under Asta's command, it had been executed beautifully, and with the only true warship the Federation had deployed under her control, the battle had turned before the captain of the other Federation vessels understood what was happening.

The Saak'ak's Vulture droids had turned on their companions – as had any droid on the planet below – causing chaos among the main defensive approaches of the Federation. In the initial chaos, the Naboo fighters had targeted every Vulture droid they could, and Asta was amused to admit that she'd lost twice as many fighters to them than the Federation droids.

Once they understood the remaining droids weren't targeting them, they'd slid into formation with her Vulture droids, and moved to engage the Lucrehulks. As she informed them that the Saak'ak was under her control, the massive ship's cannons unleashed their fury on their supposed companions.

Caught between the Saak'ak and Ne'tra Tal'ade, the droid control ships had been trapped in a pincer. Unlike the Saak'ak and the allied fleet, the Vuutun Palaa and the Luuhan hadn't been able to focus their power on the weapons and shields facing the enemy, and because of this, their shields were rapidly failing.

What Vulture droids the control ships had launched that hadn't been obliterated when the true loyalties of the Saak'ak had been revealed, were being mowed down by combined fighter and corvette fire, leaving their capital ships to attempt to duke it out with the allied fleet.

While the Saak'ak was pulling her weight, Asta was keeping her back, avoiding the close-in fighting that the Ne'tra Tal'ade and other vessels were designed for. While some might think this was to preserve her pride, truthfully she was doing so to protect the Naboo cultural heritage onboard.

As any warrior, Asta understood that war was hardship and loss. Something she'd experienced in the recent civil war when her uncle and cousins had died. The Lokella'ade understood this too, with most of their members being former slaves. The Lokella'ade might even prefer death over the threat of being enslaved once again.

However, much of the rest of the galaxy, including the Naboo, failed to grasp an important lesson; that war served a purpose in keeping people safe and strong. There were no innocents in war; everyone, be they young, old, or infirm regardless of species or creed was a warrior. Even if they failed to understand that when war began.

The Naboo and Gungans onboard the Saak'ak understood this now, and they were serving under the command of her warriors, doing what they could to defend and free their home. That - and that alone - was what drove her to be cautious with her new ship. If they were prepared to fight and die for their people, then she would do what she could to limit their exposure to battle. At least so far as to not deny her warriors the glory of combat.

The captains of the other Lucrehulk had complained to Dofine when she'd ordered him to ensure all transports from Naboo be brought to the Saak'ak. The Luuhan's captain whined so loudly and pathetically that it had been hard to not take command then and there and remind the giant slug of his true place in the universe. She had resisted the urge though, and as the HUD fed her reports from the Saak'ak's systems, she smiled predatorily.

The Vuutun Palaa had just lost her shields, the ones facing the Saak'ak. That exposed the engines, and Hux was already focusing fire there. The complete destruction of the two other Lucrehulks would be acceptable, but she, Torrhen, and Adonai had felt when this plan was developed that it should be possible to take one or both the other Lucrehulks. With the deception being pulled off brilliantly, that was how she was commanding her warship.

The Ne'tra Tal'ade shifted its fire, focusing entirely on the Luuhan. That vessel was slowly losing power to its deflectors and what remained of its fighter screen being swatted aside as the rest of the allied fleet harried the massive, lumbering starship.

A new report came in that the Vuutun Palaa had lost power, violently so as her engines had exploded, crippling the formerly mighty vessel. With command through the HUD, the Saak'ak shifted its fire. The remaining Vulture droids were then recalled. While she had little use of droids, they could be examined for weaknesses on the chance the Federation attempted to strike back against the Mando'ade over this battle.

That was unlikely, as Asta knew, based on the data taken from the Saak'ak's computer core that the Federation would be tied up in Tsad Droten litigation for years, if not decades, to come. However, she wasn't discounting the chance they might attack her people. And after the Vulture droids had been examined, their parts could be sold for profit, or given new programming to serve others.

That, however, was a matter for tomorrow. For today, all that remained was convincing the Luuhan's captain to surrender. And with that, victory would be theirs.

… …

---

… …
(Padmé's POV)

"Clear."

The command came from Rook Kast, one of four Mandalorians assigned as her escort for the assault on the royal palace. The two Jedi with her, Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi stepped out first, and after having a small look around, Master Jinn turned back to her.

"It is indeed clear, Your Majesty."

Padmé smiled at the older man, finding his presence remarkably calming, and moved into the wide, spacious corridor that marked the main hall of the palace. At her side came Captain Panaka, Simvyl, and HK-47.

"Observation: It will not stay clear for long, meatbag."

Padmé had to stifle a chuckle as Sabé – dressed in full regalia in case there was a need for a decoy – two other members of the Royal Guard, four Gungan warriors, and the second pair of Mandalorians emerged from the tunnel. While the droid was incredibly blunt with everyone, she found it comforting to have HK beside her.

"I would hope not." Kast's reply sounded hopeful that they'd be intercepted, and from what Padme knew of Mandalorians, that wasn't unexpected. Yes, her only real point of contact with the culture was Bo-Katan, but having spoken to the various leaders of those who had answered Cam's summons, Padmé understood that they enjoyed battle. Far more than she or her people would consider just and right. Or at least before the invasion.

Because of this, and the injustices inflicted on her people – by both the Trade Federation's invasion and the Republic by their inactions – she was beginning to understand why Cam felt peace had to be protected with firepower. In orbit above, on the grass plains to the south, and in the streets of Theed and other cities, her people were fighting – and likely dying – alongside their newfound allies to free themselves from the Federation's tyranny. While her part in gathering and rallying these combined forces was small, that spirit of defiance, of protecting themselves was the main reason Padmé was risking it all with this assault. Capturing Viceroy Gunray would force the Federation to end their occupation, and then the Republic, perhaps under the new leadership of Sheev Palpatine, would ensure that what happened on Naboo never happened again to any world within the Republic.

A gesture from the lead Mandalorian, a man named Gar Saxon, silenced her thoughts on what would come after liberation, and their unit advanced slowly down the corridor. Saxon and Kast took the lead with the rest following.

She'd only spoken to Saxon once before the assault had begun, mainly to understand his thinking on her plan. He considered it a bold move, brash even, and approved. Padmé had asked him, Kast, and the other Mandalorians why they'd come. None had revealed their reasons then and there, though with a smile on her face, Kast had promised to tell her about her reasons after the battle.

Blaster fire echoed in the corridor as the lead Mandalorians rounded the first corner. The firefight was short, with Padmé unsure if the Federation droids had managed any returned fire, but the lead pair never stopped moving. When she reached the corner and glanced around it, Master Jinn and Captain Panaka doing their best to shield her, she saw eight droids lying on the ground, smoke rising from bolts that had slammed into their frames.

Having them along was a relief, but even if Cam wasn't happy about it, he'd allowed her to have the majority of her force composed of local fighters. He'd accepted her logic that the Naboo and Gungans needed to see their world saved by locals. While the support and sacrifice of the Mandalorians and Lokella were greatly appreciated, and Padmé knew without it they'd have had no hope, symbolism was important.

The fact Cam understood and agreed with her, had her once more wishing he wasn't a Jedi. Or that their laws against relationships weren't as restrictive. While her title as Queen wasn't hereditary, and Cam wasn't technically from their world – even if records existed to suggest he was due to a mission he'd undertaken with Senator Palpatine several years earlier – her thoughts often turned to the idea of making him her Royal Consort.

A gentle nudge from Panaka pulled her thoughts from possible, but unlikely futures, returning them once again to the present. Chiding herself for getting lost in her thoughts again, she continued moving forward, blaster at the ready and pushed any thoughts about the future from her mind.

They advanced slowly, and carefully, and as they reached the wide main chamber that ended with the regal stairs leading up to the throne room – where Gunray had his command centre – she wondered if they might reach him without any challenge. If the chaos erupting in Theed had forced Gunray to commit all his droids to the defence of the city.

That idea was driven from her thoughts as droids swarmed onto the stairs. Saxon and Kast opened fire as the first droids came into sight, but for every droid the Mandalorians took down, two more emerged ahead and above them. As Padmé was guided to cover behind a large marble column by Panaka, more droids emerged from side passageways near the base of the stairs. Several droids had metal shields, offering them protection from the blaster fire coming at them.

The Naboo and Gungans returned fire, even as some of each group fell. Padmé winced at their sacrifice, committing their names to memory for remembrance once the battle was over. The Jedi stood forward, their blades swirling around so quickly they seemed to inhabit multiple locations at once. Any incoming fire at them was sent back toward the droids.

As she lined up her shot, and then watched the bolt slam into the head of one droid, Saxon, Kast, and HK advanced. Bolts slammed into them, yet none appeared concerned about the strikes. Their blasters were unerringly accurate, and a rocket launched from Saxon's back smashed into the droid lines, shattering the defences brought out.

Yet, for all the damage they were doing to the Federation forces, Padmé could see replacements rush into the fray. She pulled back behind the column, a chunk flying off as a droid bolt crashed into it. The rear Mandalorians were keeping watch, as were Sabé and those with her. While the path behind them was clear, Padmé knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

"We don't have time for this Captain," she said to Panaka even as Padawan Kenobi was pushed back, needing to take cover as the droids seemed to focus on him and Master Jinn.

For a moment, as he leaned out to fire off another bolt, it seemed as if Panaka hadn't heard her. She considered speaking again, only for him to look at her and then scan the corridor. a second later, he aimed at a window on the far side of the corridor. Those there – a mixture of Naboo and Gungans, and Padawan Kenobi – ducked as the window shattered; blown apart by fire from Panaka's blaster.

"Go!" Panaka called out. She rushed out, her pistol firing indiscriminately toward the Federation droids. Padawan Kenobi stepped out, providing cover with his lightsaber, which allowed her to reach the new column, the one beside the blasted window, safely.

"Thank you," she offered to the Jedi as Panaka raced across the corridor.

"All part of the service," Kenobi replied with a smile.

"Commentary: I do hope you aren't attempting to mate in the middle of a battle, meatbag. Even for a Jedi, that would be most disappointing."

Padmé covered her mouth, biting back a bout of laughter as Kenobi spluttered, caught out by HK's comment.

"Ascension guns," Panaka ordered, forcing Padmé to ignore the confused Jedi and miss his reply. If he gave one.

Padmé slipped her pistol back into its holster and then took a pistol from one of the Naboo guards. He pulled a secondary blaster from a holster as she readied the new weapon, switching the settings from blaster to the cable launcher mounted under the barrel.

She stepped out onto the ledge carefully, Panaka helping her. Her eyes drifted downward, the cliffs that the palace and Theed sat on the edge of meaning any fall from here would see her drop several kilometres before slamming onto the basin below.

Turning, she aimed the blaster upward, aiming at the top floor of this section of the palace. The cable shot up, and after it embedded into the wall several stories above her, the blaster reported the cable was secure. Yet before she, Panaka and others could ascend, there was movement at the window. Looking inward, she saw Kast and Master Jinn approaching, HK-47 just behind them; his blaster firing so constantly it appeared as if it was one continuous beam exiting the barrel and not a rapid succession of super-heated plasma bolts.

"Hope you weren't thinking of leaving us behind?" Kast commented as she moved onto the ledge, two of the Naboo guards having to shuffle away to avoid her hitting them. There was a hint of amusement in her tone, but with her armour on, and head sealed inside the helmet, Padmé was unable to read her face for a hint as to why the Mandalorian was finding this funny.

"Do you have ascension cables?" Panaka asked even as Master Jinn pulled something from his belt. Behind him, Padawan Kenobi, Simvyl, Sabé, and the others continued to engage the Federation droids. While she wasn't happy about leaving them behind, Padmé understood that they needed to remain as a diversion, and with Sabé dressed as Queen Amidala, the Federation would hopefully focus on them allowing her, Panaka, and his team to reach Gunray easily.

"Yes, but I've got something better to use."

Kast stepped off the ledge and flames burst from the rear of the Mandalorian's armour, and a few amused chuckles emanated from Kast, Padmé remembered the briefing with Saxon. Kast and another of the foursome had jetpacks while Saxon and the last member of their team had sacrificed those for extra rockets.

"After you, Your Majesty," Kast remarked as she hovered in front of Padmé, a teasing tone in her voice.

Padmé smiled at the Mandalorian, glad she would be coming along. As would Master Jinn as he fired a cable from a small device he now held. If Padmé's cable broke, she'd have a Jedi and Mandalorian on hand to save her. Turning back to the palace, she saw HK-47 stepping onto the ledge; one of the Naboo guards almost falling as the droid pushed past them.

"Query: Did you meatbags think that by taking this route you would somehow stop me from completing my assignment?" Padmé's smile, odd as it felt in the middle of combat right before they attempted something this haphazard, grew. Before she could ask if the droid had cables, HK extended a hand, and two cables launched from out of its fingertips.

"No. I was simply curious as to how you planned to complete your mission," she replied. That HK-47 was coming with them wasn't a surprise. Cam had assigned the droid to protect her at all costs; something, having enjoyed reading Knights of the Old Republic: The Dark Times, she understood that HK-47 took his assignments very seriously.

"Statement: Then you have your answer, important meatbag." Padmé chuckled, amused at the designation she'd earned from the droid. "Query: Are we going to move, or do you wish to remain here and, as meatbags seemed to want to do, enjoy the view?"

Padmé bit her lip, struggling to not laugh loudly. She feared that she might slip if she did and while she knew HK-47 wasn't being intentionally funny, it had a sense of timing that was both amusing and oddly reassuring. Almost as if, when added to the term HK used for her, Cam was here watching over her.

… …

---

… …
(Cam's POV)

My blades, one composed of plasma and the other shining beskar, flew around me, crashing against the red blades of my opponent. The cold, almost stony look on his face, after what he'd done to Serra, only added fuel to my fury. She was alive, but barely, and until this motherfucker was dead, I couldn't check on her.

A snarl ripped from my mouth as another attack was pushed aside contemptuously. A faint flicker of a smirk, taunting my failure to kill him, sending my anger soaring. His blade slipped around my attack, dragging against my armour. The HUD reported the strikes, but I ignored it. I knew it could take the hits, knew the beskar wouldn't break under the assault of his lightsaber. Yet every strike the HUD reported only made it harder to maintain my control, to not let my anger consume me.

My lightsaber descended with the impact of a meteor, and Maul's saber flicked out, deflecting it to the side. He swiftly retreated, leaving behind a luminous scar etched into the stone.

Another snarl slipped from my lips at this, and it grew louder as the HUD reported Maul's blade trailing over the back of my armour. I turned, small sections of what remained of my cloak whipping around in the air, my beskad crashing against his blade. Through the gap in the weapons, he continued to smirk; taunting me at another failure to kill him.

The Force offered itself to me, willing me to accept its power, take its power and strike Maul down.

My lightsaber plunged forward, aiming for Maul's heart. Yet, even with half his blade in a bind, he was able to move enough that the lower section of his weapon deflected my thrust. As the tip passed his side, he spun away, and I was unable to take advantage as my blades were engaged by his.

I pushed them away, taking a step toward him, even as the HUD reported another strike against the armour. This one was a long slash across my chest. Sparks flew up toward my helmet, suggesting his blade was at least marring the surface of the armour. My focus narrowed, only caring about Maul, about making him suffer.

Around us, I could hear the Force whispering to me. Telling me that Maul had to die for what he'd done, that it wanted and craved that as much as I did. The Force flowed through me, doing as I demanded and making me faster, and stronger.

My beskad flicked out, only to be clipped away by the very tip of Maul's blade. He took another step back, his blades swirling around, teasing, tormenting me in a constant reminder that I couldn't land a blow against him.

Black encased in white plasma crashed against red as my lightsaber was blocked, and my beskad came in low; seeking to rip open his side. Maul shifted, his lightsaber flashing out as he moved just enough to ensure my attack failed, and then pushed the blade away as it sailed past him.

I stumbled forward, not wanting to lose my grip on the weapon. The HUD sent another warning as the other end of Maul's lightsaber dragged itself against the armour under my forearm. Before I could process that properly, or regain my footing, the Force shifted.

My rage failed me as the air around me shifted. There was a split-second where the HUD warned of danger before I was taken from my feet. Alerts flared in the HUD as my body jerked to one side and was then dragged along the ground. My movement stopped when my helmet slammed hard into something.

The inbuilt mechanisms of the armour protected me from most of the force that I'd struck the wall with, but I still had to jerk my head awkwardly to pull the helmet from the wall. Turning, I summoned the Force to me and blasted it at Maul. He leapt high, sailing over the attack, yet in the time he was airborne I blinked.

As if a switch had flipped I breathed out letting my anger fade. I had been letting Maul keep me on edge since Serra had been buried. "Stupid." The word slipped from my lips as I readied myself, Maul landing closer to me after my attack failed, but still far enough away that I couldn't attack him instantly.

I turned, presenting my side, the beskad hanging low, which had Maul pause. Almost as if he was waiting to see what I did as the Force continued to move around us. During this moment of rest, I reached out into the Force, confirming with relief that while badly hurt, Serra was alive. The Battlenet reported that Osto was close to her, perhaps a minute away. Yet, in the time since I'd engaged Maul, which hadn't been more than a minute stretched into an eternity, we'd moved a fair distance away from where Serra was buried, and where Drallig's body lay.

Maul stepped forward, shifting into a Niman stance. While he seemed to prefer Juyo, Niman was adaptable enough that it could easily lead into any of the other forms if the user had sufficient skill with the form; something I had no doubt Sidious would've ensured Maul endured in his training. There was little, just the odd smirk or gesture, in his body language to hint at his feelings, though I didn't consider searching for anything through the Force for insight as would've meant exposing my thoughts to the rage radiating from him. Not that I expected to break through his mental defences, mind you.

Those, like everything else in his training, had likely come through pain and, putting it gently, aggressive instruction from Sidious. I had no idea if Plagueis was aware of Maul, or if he'd had any hand in the Zabrak's training, but he wouldn't have been any kinder than Sidious.

Even if I wanted to breach his mental defences, I had neither the skill nor inclination to do so. With the Interface I could've, in theory, learnt the fundamentals to insane degrees, but from the way Fay and Dooku had described the mind arts of the Force, I felt it simply wasn't possible for me to truly understand them. Not with how the Interface seemed to handle the Force. And that was saying nothing about how probing the minds of others, and manipulating them there wasn't how I preferred to handle issues. My focus had almost always been on Force Powers that benefited me directly.

With the Force shifting around us in anticipation, we each took a step forward. The HUD and Force – via the Interface – alerted me to how Maul was going to attack, and offered predictions on where the next attack when this one failed would come from. While the Interface offered less accurate data than the force it did help to narrow the possibilities, and I offered a small prayer of thanks to the Mandalorian armourers. Without their work, I'd have been dead long before I'd fought off the bubbling fury and regained full control of myself.

My lightsaber flicked out, a smooth Makashi parry allowing me to deflect his first attack with ease, and then it slid down, blocking a second attack from the other end of his lightsaber. With my side to him and my blade held forward, to be sure of a hit, or of drawing me out of position, he had to commit to his attacks. At some point, an attack would slip by my blade, but the beskad and my armour were ready to help when that happened.

Each time my blade caught one of his, my arm shook, the armour doing little to counter the Force-enhanced strength he was displaying. I had no idea if he was feeling the effects of our blades clashing or if my boosted strength was jarring him as much, nor did I expect to see or sense if it was. However, with that power and every other one I used for physical enhancements in combat at their maximum, I hoped he was as rattled when our blades clashed as I was.

His blade blurred forward, a false strike that I didn't fall for. However, instead of sliding in for a true attack, he circled to my side. I turned, keeping the profile I presented to him small, yet he didn't attack. Instead, he took a small, sidling step back, daring me to advance.

Behind him, one section of the Solleu River was coming into sight, and beyond that the Royal Palace. He'd led me here on purpose, which I understood, but the why I couldn't be sure of. There was no warning from the Force, no hint of any impending danger. Well, save for the chaos erupting in the city and, most prominently, Maul himself. Yet I was cautious to follow.

He was guiding me somewhere, and beyond the idea that his vessel, which was on my list of things to secure once he was defeated, might be stored inside a hangar below the palace, or on the other side of the city, I couldn't figure out what his motive was. Still, unless I wanted to let him go, to not pursue him and risk him seeking out Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Padmé, I had no choice but to follow.

Whatever it took, Maul would not be leaving Naboo to return to Sidious' side. Not while I drew breath.

… …

---

… …
(Vhonte's POV)

Her rifle was already moving, her HUD guiding her to the next target before the droid she'd targeted had fallen. As she lined up that shot, Vhonte wondered how much longer this battle, if one could call it that, would last.

Ever since Phase Eight had been initiated, everything had been remarkably one-sided. So much so that Vhonte had wondered when the universe would choose to drop the other boot. Yet, it hadn't, and instead a section of the Federation's army – around five per cent according to the Battlenet – had, perhaps five minutes after the battle had truly begun, turned on the rest of the droids.

Even though she remembered that had been the initial battleplan before any of them had jumped into the system, she hadn't expected it to activate as intended, nor that it would affect droids at this battle. Still, it did, and beyond sowing even more confusion into the Federation ranks, it confirmed that the Lucrehulk in orbit had been held; meaning a large bonus for every warrior who joined this war. Something Vhonte would never complain about.

Nor would she complain at the almost non-existent casualty rates among the non-Mando'ade. Vhonte wasn't pleased that the Lokella'ade styled their armour on beskar'gam, but they did say that mimicry was the sincerest form of flattery, and what warrior wouldn't want to copy the look and training of the Mando'ade? Additionally, the early members of the collection of freed slaves had been trained by them. Thus, even when the most recent civil war had broken out and those trainers returned to fight in it, the Lokella'ade had kept the training regiments and taught them to their new members.

The only odd thing about the armour wasn't that it was styled on beskar'gam, but that it was composed of phrik, a similar if inferior metal. How and where a group – especially one that was tens of thousands strong – had found enough of the rare alloy to craft armour for all their warriors was something Vhonte intended to learn after this battle, and the other ones being fought for control of the planet, were over.

However, based on the current situation here, the local battle would be over within ten minutes. About ninety per cent of the Federation army was destroyed or disabled, with the former applying to the droids while the latter applied to their equipment. Virtually every transport they brought to the battle had been disabled, along with the majority of their tanks. Or at least those that survived the initial explosion that marked the beginning of Phase Eight.

All the recoverable equipment would be gathered, and if the Federation wasn't willing to purchase back their lost weaponry, they would be sold to others throughout the galaxy. Even if that meant stripping them for parts. That alone would generate another large bonus for everyone who'd answered the call to arms from Cameron Shan.

Almost as if by design, as his name went through her thoughts, a signal came through the Battlenet. Vhonte's brow rose in surprise as it stated he'd engaged a Sith. They were meant to be long gone, destroyed by the Republic before the Dral'Han. After firing off a blast from her rifle at the next targeted droid, she paused.

This battle was over, and she was curious to see if Shan was telling the truth. However, when she accessed the Battlenet, she found his camera feed restricted. Thankfully, as one of the senior commanders in the allied forces, she had override codes.

Her breath quickened as she saw blurred red images from Shan's armour. Hers worked to slow down the images, letting her see that Shan's opponent was a red-skinned Zabrak, using a red lightsaber: as the Sith were known to do. That alone didn't confirm that the Zabrak was a Sith, but given the speed at which the battle was proceeding between it and Shan, it was clear to Vhonte that it was skilled in the Force. At least to the point of challenging Shan.

Not knowing how long the feed would remain on the Battlenet, Vhonte commanded her HUD to record the feed. While she had no interest in the battles between the Sith and Jedi, at least so far as they didn't involve her people and the chance of open war, this was a fight that she knew others would wish to see, and one she'd wish to review if the time ever came where a bounty required her to track down and eliminate a Force user.

… …

---

… …
(Cam's POV)

I slid a foot back and angled my body. Maul's blade missing my armour by millimetres; though it was close enough the HUD warned of potential damage to the exposed section of underweave that the blade had swooped past.

While my armour offered better coverage than the armour worn by most Mandalorians, it still had sections – mainly around my joints – where it relied on the underweave for protection. While I'd have preferred to have everything covered, I'd not yet worked out how to cover joints like my elbows and knees fully without compromising my Force-based mobility. The Mandalorian armourers had some ideas, but they'd not been able to implement them before Palpatine had called me to announce the blockade of Naboo.

That had come earlier than I'd expected, barely two months after Padmé became Queen Amidala, and so I'd been forced to head into battle aware of the weak points in the armour. And it seemed Maul was understanding this as his recent attacks had been aimed heavily toward those locations.

Now, that might not be the case, and he simply understood that with the general armour coverage, his best option was to target limbs with his blade. It was, after all, part of the standard approach to defeating a lightsaber-wielding opponent and both of us were going for such attacks, be they targeting arms, legs, or even decapitating each other. So far, neither of us had landed a blow to achieve that, but Maul was having far better success in breaching my defences than I was at breaching his.

Maul's blade slashed to my side, and then as I moved to avoid it, he twisted. The back end of his lightsaber came around and forced me to deflect it away from my thigh. When his spin had ended, and the front blade of his weapon was already coming around for another attack, I'd altered my stance; presenting an even more limited profile. It exposed a single knee and the arm wielding my lightsaber but meant he had to continue to push forward to get his blade to reach any part of my body.

His blade flicked out, drawing me into defending the thrust. As I pushed away that tip of the blade, the other end came around. Aware it was coming, I lifted my left leg, ensuring the low sweep struck my armour. However, while I knew the attack was coming, the HUD and my mind understanding the possible vectors he could take based on his weapon, it came at me faster than I could fully adapt to. Ideally, I'd have preferred to simply avoid the attack, sliding back or to the side. However, I lacked the time to do so given how fast Maul was moving. The HUD, even with all its power, was struggling to track every movement Maul made. Thankfully, between it and the Force, I was holding my own - at least for now.

He reversed the direction of his lightsaber and brought the blade back in low. My foot came down, attempting to trap the blade under my boot even as my beskad flicked out to engage the other section of his weapons. Sadly for me, he was ready for that, and my beskad missed. Only a quick shift of my arm had the red plasma slash harmlessly across the armour on the underside of my vambrace, and not over the controls of the weaponry there.

My lightsaber swept low, knocking his lower blade to one side, which forced the upper blade away from my vambrace before it slid far enough to reach the underweave near my elbow. My lightsaber clipped the ground and I tossed super-heated clumps of dirt at Maul.

He avoided them easily, melting some with his blade while the rest sailed harmlessly past, however, that allowed me time to re-open a gap between us. It had barely been two minutes since I'd fought off my anger and regained complete control of my actions. In that time though, it had become clear that if things continued the way they were going, I'd soon join Master Drallig.

Only a few minutes, perhaps no more than five had passed from when I'd learnt Drallig and Serra had engaged Maul before I reached them. Yet in that time, Maul had killed Drallig and brutalised Serra. That, along with how this fight was going, made it abundantly clear – if it hadn't been before I'd even reached Naboo – that I was never going to beat Maul in a straight-up lightsaber duel.

I placed my beskad against the small of my back, the magnetic clip securing it there.

Maul paused, seeming curious about my action. Unlike my lightsaber, the beskad simply didn't have the reach to come close to landing a blow against him, which was why it'd only been using it mostly as a parrying device. Though many of the strikes it blocked would've only clipped my armour and not reached a critical section with exposed underweave. But still, it had been useful so removing it must have caused some concern.

When nothing replaced the beskad in my grip, his lips twitched, and for a moment a snarl seemed like it would form. It didn't, but as he came forward again, planning to exploit what he saw as a critical mistake, I readied my free hand. It was time to stop fighting like a Jedi.

… …

---

… …
(Bo-Katan's POV)
She raced through the streets, Naz, and the rest of her squad just behind, sliding around and over the debris that littered the city. Droids lay broken around her, along with the bodies of Naboo that had fallen fighting to free their home. Those weren't of any real concern, and as Fenrir leapt down from a balcony, the arm of a droid in his mouth, Bo-Katan rounded the corner to the area marked by Cam through the Battlenet.

"Osik."

The word slipped from her lips as she took in the destruction that greeted her. Buildings were shattered, some having crumbled to nothing more than rubble. The ground, once covered in decorative tiles, was a disaster with few if any tiles remaining in place. Deep gorges radiated out from certain points as if caught in focused explosions, the remains of what was a fountain now just a clump of soggy mud.

She took a step into the square, her HUD marking out the remains of Serra's Jetii Master, the two parts having been blown away by one of the explosions. She moved into the square as Fenrir raced toward the collapsed building, her HUD marking out two lightsabers and the remains of a third. While a spike of fear reached through her as the armour identified one of the lightsabers, and the remains, as belonging to Serra, she was relieved that the other wasn't Cam's.

After scooping up the blades, securing them to her belt and placing the remains of the other weapon in a pouch around her belt, she turned to Fenrir. A second later she was racing over to him as he dug frantically at the debris. The transponder from Serra's armour was broadcasting from under the debris, and while she was still alive, her pulse was erratic and her vitals falling.

Joining Fenrir in shifting the rubble, her HUD confirmed the building had been at least three stories tall, and judging from the debris patterns, had fallen in two sections. It couldn't understand how as there was no explosive residue, but Bo-Katan did. The Force had been used here, which meant that the being Cam was fighting had intentionally brought the place down on Serra.

That made her anger flare, and she hoped Cam killed the shabuir who did this to Serra. That he made them suffer for daring to hurt their friend and lover. That anger only grew as they cleared enough of the debris that Serra's armour was able to reconnect properly to the Battlenet.

Bo-Katan blinked at the range of injuries it reported. She'd known about the shattered hands and cuts that had come before the signal had been lost – the debris seemingly having damaged the primary Battlenet transmitter – but the full list was much more concerning.

Ruptured vocal cords, internal bleeding, broken or cracked bones throughout the body, a durasteel pipe piercing her lower left leg, and numerous other, by comparison, minor injuries appeared on Bo-Katan's HUD.

It was a miracle that, even with the armour having provided an infusion of bacta, Serra was still alive.

The HUD alerted her that the rest of her squad had arrived, and she summoned them over even as she continued working with Fenrir to clear enough debris so they could remove Serra. As a field medic, Naz had the supplies they could use to stabilize Serra, but they had to reach her. While she was alive, the vitals were fading.

When the rest of her team started helping, Bo-Katan glanced toward the palace. Somewhere in that direction, on a small island near the palace, Cam was fighting the Sith. After offering a small prayer to whoever or whatever was listening that Cam would make them pay dearly for what they did to Serra, she returned her focus to the debris and freed one of her lovers.

… …

---

… …
(Cam's POV)
I stepped forward, keeping only a single hand on my lightsaber. Maul moved as well, bringing his blade around to meet mine.

A flick of my wrist pushed his first attack away, and then a roll of my shoulder had it slip down, catching the second half of his weapon. My arm rolled, bringing his blade with mine in a circle, hoping to push it far enough away that the other end wouldn't be able to strike out.

Maul was aware of this, and as the section of his blade against mine started moving away from where I wanted to go, I shifted my shoulder. The other end of his lightsaber flicked around, skidding off the beskar there. A little jerk pushed the blade high, away from my helmet, my lightsaber then flicked low, blocking a probing strike toward my thigh. I then lunged forward, forcing Maul to abort any attack with the high-end of his weapon.

He moved back, his blade sweeping around defensively as he turned, protecting his back in the short span where his eyes couldn't see me. As he ended the move, his blade already shifting with his arms, ready for another attack, I was primed.

Before the red blade could come at me once again, the vambrace on my free hand activated. Maul grunted, slipping back as he was assaulted by intense sonic waves generated by the vambrace. While I could've gone for a directed weapon, I'd used something similar to what I'd experienced in the Mandalmotors tower; when I'd unwittingly saved Darth Plagueis from Death Watch.

Around me, plants bent back, and dirt was ripped from the topsoil, the strength of the waves being generated great enough to affect them. Yet, with the armour protecting me, I was immune to the attack, and as Maul struggled to recover, I surged forward.

His blade came up, blocking a thrust of my lightsaber, and a growl slipped from his lips as he started adapting to the unexpected attack. His eyes, burning a bright, malignant yellow, tried to burn holes through my helmet even as my blade moved. The initial attack was never going to work, but the slight delay in Maul's reaction to it was what I wanted to gauge. With that knowledge, and knowing he'd soon adapt and overcome the sonic attack, I attacked again.

This time my blade went low towards his gut, forcing him to block and slide back on the chance my blade slipped past his defence. My weapon then came around horizontally, forcing him to shift his stance. When our blades clashed, I pushed upward, lifting his weapon with mine. My leg came around, the boot aiming for his knee.

Maul was skilled in unarmed combat though, and lifted his leg, ensuring my attack crashed into his shin instead of the knee. While the snarl that flickered on his lips suggested the blow hurt, it was better than a hard strike to the side of the knee.

His leg then pushed upward, forcing me off-balance. Turning with the shifting momentum, I brought my blade down, blocking an attack aimed at my leg even as it swept away. As my heel dug into the dirt, helping me stabilise, my blade was already moving, a passing step bringing me into a lunge.

The black blade slipped forward, and just before his lightsaber came up to deflect the strike, I disengaged the sonic disruptor. The unexpected change caught him out, and my blade crashed against his closer to the hilt, close to his hands.

Before I could slip my blade toward his hands, he moved. The double-bladed weapon came overhead, forcing my lightsaber up to defend a strike aimed at my skull. I then had to slide back, avoiding the lower end of his weapon as it skimmed in low. My lightsaber moved, blocking an attack aimed toward my neck, and then my leg lifted, letting another low attack crash against my armour, protecting the underweave near my knee.

The upper section of his lightsaber came in again, though because of how it was sliding against my beskar, I was able to lean away, letting the attack miss. My blade then flicked out, pushing that section of his blade away, aborting an attack by the other end.

With a double-bladed lightsaber, Maul was forced to follow a limited number of attack vectors, each determined by the location of the other end. However, while I knew all this, and was able to predict them, Maul wasn't someone I could study beyond his fights in TPM. His pace, strength, and ferocity, while anticipated, were greater than I'd expected, and even when I gained an advantage – as when the sonic disruptor was used – it only lasted a short time. Not nearly enough to gain a strike against him, never mind one that might turn the tide in my favour.

As I shifted again, using the beskar to defend against another blow that would've been fatal, I was glad of the armour, and when I won this battle, would be offering the armourers my thanks for their craftsmanship.

That said, I knew I couldn't keep relying on the armour to protect me. Maul's strikes were slowly zeroing in on the weak points, and after blocking a flurry of strikes, my lightsaber moving so fast the air darkened between us, I readied my next party trick.

I feigned attacking one way, my blade moving out just enough to force him to shift his stance to defend. That meant neither end of his weapon was in a position to strike as I extended my free arm. Maul tensed, readying for another blast from the sonic disruptor. However, instead of the intense aural waves, a cable shot out.

At this distance, Maul had little time to avoid the attack, and while he tried, the cable stuck his side when I jerked my arm across my body. The cable clipping his side wouldn't hurt, at least not to the point that Maul would be concerned by it. Nor of the cable bending with my action and trying to wrap around him. However, a twitch of my eyes had the HUD activate an electrical discharge.

Electricity surged down the cable, slamming into his body, and making him react. While I knew the charge wouldn't stop him – even if it was designed to take down a rancor – as Sidious had likely trained him to tank Force Lightning, it did disrupt his movement, and that was what I needed.

I moved forward, my blade coming around for an attack. Even with tens of thousands of volts coursing through his body, Maul moved to block me; sparks from the electricity flickering around his hands, bouncing against the plasma of his blades.

Our blades clashed, mine drifting away not letting him push me away. A roll of my wrists took my lightsaber low, forcing his blade downward. As they pressed against each other I winced, struggling to keep his blade trapped while the energy danced over his body. A grunt slipped from my lips as he found renewed strength and was able to force me back.

As I reset, ready to attack again, his blade spun around, severing the cable, the last vestiges of the energy dancing over his skin dying away as the cable flopped to the ground. A gesture had the HUD release the cable, ensuring Maul couldn't use the trailing section to tangle me and then Maul was upon me.

My arm barely survived the ferocity of his attack, and I was driven back as I struggled to retain the grip on my lightsaber. Another blow came in, and while I was ready for the power behind it, I still felt my feet slip back slightly. I knew he'd be angry after the cable trick, that it wouldn't do anything but piss him off, but I hoped it might unbalance him, granting me a small opening to exploit. Yet the rage he was broadcasting into the Force almost overwhelmed my senses. My connection to the Force felt off and wrong. As if he was somehow interrupting it.

My blade swirled around, generating an almost complete black-and-white shield between us, my stance keeping as much of my frame hidden from his direct sight. Yet still, his attacks slipped through. I was forced to use my armour to deflect, and block any attack bound for a weak point.

Maul's attacks rained down, my lightsaber and armour doing what they could to survive and protect me from the onslaught. Every few attacks, with only split seconds having passed for anyone who might be watching, I was forced back. The HUD continually flared, alerting me to incoming threats; the computer driving it pushed to and beyond its limits trying to predict Maul's next assault.

The ground under my feet was growing soft, dirt replacing tiles as we neared the banks of the river, the sounds of the water cascading over the falls mixing with those generated by our lightsabers as they danced and clashed to generate an oddly hypnotic, if deranged, symphony.

Maul was pressing me further even as my room to manoeuvre decreased. The rushing of water drew the HUD's attention just as much as the numerous blows on my armour. Each blow, be it glancing or full-on, was still hitting the beskar plates, but Maul was drawing a bead on the underweave; each strike getting just that little bit closer to costing me a limb, and by extension the fight.

Knowing that I couldn't continue to shift back or tank the strikes coming in, my free hand shifted back, tensing. Maul, seeing this, pulled back slightly. A flicker of annoyance flashed over his face when I unclipped my beskad, bringing that back into the fight.

As he started moving again, his blade swooping through the air, I knelt slightly, shrinking my profile even further, the beskad floating out slightly from my body. That allowed me to aim my lightsaber away slightly, covering some of my back.

Maul's irritation flooded into the Force, though whether it was aimed at me for not dying yet, or him tensing in anticipation which allowed me to draw the beskad, I couldn't be certain. Regardless, the fact I could sense it suggested he was slowly growing frustrated at not having managed to kill me yet.

I was a far easier opponent than Drallig, but by the counter in the HUD, I'd so far lasted nearly twice as long. Yes, much of that was down to the armour, but that he'd not yet killed me and departed this world as his supposed allies fell had to be nagging him; hopefully driving him to commit an error I could exploit.

Swirling, sweeping, slashes of black and red danced against each other, yet for all my hope that shrinking the area I'd have to cover with my lightsaber might grant me better protection, the areas where the red pierced through my darkened shield of energy were growing larger. Now, Maul's strikes weren't hitting my armour with as much regularity, and my beskad wasn't as active as it'd been earlier, but I knew this defensive approach wasn't fully working. Attacks were still slipping through my defences, aimed toward the weak points in the armour again.

Taking a chance, I pressed forward. Maul's blade crashed against my chest, the beskar easily taking the strike. My beskad came out, blocking the next attack from the other end of his lightsaber before I pushed my lightsaber arm forward. The blade was high, not intended to attack Maul, nor was I close enough to land a punch, but from the end of the vambrace there a thick, virulent gas emerged.

Reacting instantly, Maul pulled back even as I pulled my arm down. My lightsaber clipped a section of his robes, cutting the fabric free, but the blade failed to connect with him. The gas I'd used, that Maul had pulled back from, was a highly dangerous poison; one designed to take down Wookies and other larger and stronger sentients in minutes. Yet, even if he inhaled the gas, I knew Maul wouldn't succumb to its effects. The Force would keep his lungs clear, and defeat the poison before it could do any damage. However, for that to work, he had to concentrate on it, meaning his reactions should be a fraction slower.

With the gas still flowing from my vambrace, I moved forward, not giving Maul time to think about a cover. My blade thrust toward him, and while he deflected it, he didn't go for the obvious counter, nor step closer. Instead, he continued to backpedal. Yes, the movement was only slightly, just enough to keep out of range of the gas, but that was enough to allow me to launch into a flurry of quick, probing thrusts, slashes, and feints, keeping him on the defensive.

With the armour protecting me from the poison, and the HUD and the Force easily able to track Maul through the thick cloud spewing from my arm, I kept pushing. The gas would only last for maybe five seconds, of which one was already past, and while I hoped it would be enough for me to score a strike against him, perhaps even debilitate him, I wasn't getting my hopes up. Though even if it failed, I had other tools in the vambrace to use, and as his blade again deflected mine, I reactivated the sonic disruptor.

Sensing this was perhaps my chance to end the fight, I pushed harder, my beskad joining the fray when and where it could. While I was no longer driven by anger at Serra's fate, I knew the only way Maul was leaving Naboo was over my dead body.

… …

---

… …
(Padmé's POV)
Padmé slipped through the shattered window into the highest level of this section of the palace. Kast and Aran had already entered, securing the area. Just ahead of Padmé HK-47 stood, his blaster scanning the area, seeking threats to her, and as she moved away from the window, the glass crunching under her feet, Master Jinn and Captain Panaka entered.

Panaka walked past her, an arm coming out to stop her from advancing further. She disliked that, even if she understood his reasoning. The sour expression he sent the droid was one she didn't approve of though. Just like him, HK-47 was here to protect her, and he needed to see that HK-47 wasn't the same as the Federation's droids. Something displayed by the unerring precision of his blaster fire in the battle that was probably still raging on the ground floor.

Master Jinn also stepped past her, the older man giving her a reassuring smile, one she returned. While she had disagreed with him over going to Tatooine, it had worked out well as that was where Cam had met them, and he'd then escorted them back to Coruscant and Senator Palpatine. Or perhaps, if things were going as well there as here, she would be calling him Chancellor when they next met.

The columns here, like those below, were carved from marble taken from a large quarry on one of Naboo's southern continents that had been brought here when the palace had first been designed. The corridor they were in was massive, the roof high enough that Padmé felt her royal cruiser – if it was still flight-worthy – could fly down if it rotated vertically and wide enough that two Federation tanks could conceivably move down it side by side. Though for either test to take place, the statue of King Narmlé that stood at one end, in the opposite direction from which they'd be going, would have to be moved. That the statue was still there was a surprise, as the reports of the Federation stealing Naboo's cultural heritage had almost broken her heart. Only a promise from Cam and the Lokella to locate any of the artefacts and civilians shipped off-world had saved her from crying over their fates.

"Hold."

The command from Kast was accompanied by an arm stretched back toward them. Padmé saw Captain Panaka bristle, his annoyance at having to listen to the off-worlders easy for her to pick up on. The man was proud, and she knew it hurt him to have to rely on off-worlders to free their people. She hoped that once Naboo was free, the Captain would begin to soften that stance, as she had plans for the future that would see many Mandalorians and Lokella remaining on the world, perhaps even as more than trainers for an enlarged security force.

Panaka was the one who'd insisted on her having trained handmaidens when she became Queen, handpicking Sabé as the royal decoy due to their similarities. However, outside of the Jedi assigned by Chancellor Valorum, and Cam through his connection to her and Senator Palpatine, he disliked most others. While that made him a great Captain of her guard, it meant in this war, he struggled to accept the presence of others.

Kast brought her arm back to her rifle once Panaka and the other guards stopped, remaining behind cover. She and Aran then advanced. HK-47 moved as well, though he stayed back from the Mandalorians, moving in a way that partially blocked her sight of what was happening down the corridor.

The trio advanced slowly, the Mandalorians moving beside the columns, ready to use them as cover if attacked, while Hk-47 stayed in the open. Padmé had seen how resistant to blaster fire its frame was, but she still found herself concerned for the droid. Fearing that if it was damaged Cam might somehow blame her. Yes, she knew it was irrational, and that the droid would sacrifice itself to defend her, but she didn't want it destroyed. It was, beyond belonging to Cam, something Padmé found oddly reassuring to have around.

The Mandalorians moved slowly, so much so that Padmé began to feel restless; fearing Gunray might escape if they took too long to reach him. Or the Federation discovered that Sabé was a decoy. If that Neimoidian escaped them here, then it would be hard to force a surrender from the Federation forces. Even with the battles in space and on the plains going well – she had a small device given to her by Cam that allowed her to see reports from the Battlenet the Mandalorians used – without Gunray captive, then everything would be for nothing. The Federation's leader had to be made to pay; he had to stand trial for his actions against her people.

As they neared the first intersection of the corridor, the Mandalorians slowed. A moment later blaster fire erupted at them from opposite sides. The pair fell back, taking cover behind the nearest column. Their rifles returned fire as they moved, a small rocket launching from Aran's wrist generating an explosion down one corridor.

Just as they were reaching cover, droids flooded into the passageway from ahead of them led by a squad of droidekas.

"Contact!" Captain Panaka called out, turning. She did likewise to see several dozen battledroids appear near King Narmlé's statue. Panaka and his guards engaged those droids, Master Jinn stepping between the droids and her, his lightsaber swooping around, generating a powerful blue barrier to protect her. Even with his lightsaber moving so fast it appeared in several locations at once, Padmé saw Master Jinn deflecting the bolts back, with as many droids falling from the blaster fire he was redirecting as fell to her guards.

She lined up her pistol, smiling as the bolt struck a droid between its eyes.

"Observation: I've been looking forward to this."

Padmé spun, wondering what HK-47 was on about, only for her eyes to widen. The Mandalorians were holding their ground, using the columns as cover while peppering the droids flooding into the area with blaster fire. Dozens lay ruined on the ground already, most with small whiffs of smoke rising from where they'd been shot. While they were heavily outnumbered, they were more than holding their own.

However, HK-47 hadn't taken cover. Instead, with his comment made loud enough that it reached Padmé's ears over the evolving firefight, he began to walk forward. Directly toward a group of around twelve droidekas. The cannons in their arms fired on him, trying to down him, yet each blast, while possibly rattling his frame, did nothing to deter his slow, steady advance. HK-47 wasn't targeting the droidekas though; instead, he was aiming meticulously at the battledroids behind, his bolts slipping through the small gaps between, or going right over, the shields generated by the droidekas.

Once only a handful remained, HK-47, while still advancing, shifted. His rifle slung over his back as one arm extended forward. As the rifle was secured against his back, a shield was generated by the forearm facing the Federation forces. While not covering his entire form, it offered considerable protection, reminding Padmé of the shields the Gungans were using, though HK-47's shield was obviously much more advanced.

HK-47 brought his now free arm back over. As it passed his thigh, a section of his armour opened up and deposited something into his hand. As the arm moved next to the shield, Padmé saw that it had been grenades that were now bouncing slowly along the ground. Her eyes were drawn back to HK-47's arm as the underside of the forearm opened and a quad of rockets raced out.

The rockets split, a pair going to each side of the droideka line. As they exploded, the droidekas and sections of the palace were sent flying. Padmé turned, shielding her eyes as a wave of dust rushed toward her. While covering, another round of explosions erupted from the direction of the droidekas.

With the dust cloud passing, she turned back to see HK advancing; shield now down. From one arm came slower, but probably higher-powered bolts while the other spewed flames. The debris settled further, and Padmé saw the droidekas had all been knocked over. Several were nothing more than sparking pieces of debris, the one-two punch of the rockets and grenades rendering them useless. The rest were being assaulted by HK-47's weapons. And those of the Mandalorians, who seemed to understand what the droid was doing and helped to remove the droideka threat.

Padmé gulped as the short, intense battle ended. The entirety of the Federation forces that had engaged Hk-47 and the Mandalorians were smoking craters of broken electronics while that trio were entirely unharmed. She'd known that having them would be useful, but she now understood why Cam had been so insistent that they accompany her.

Yes, the Jedi were useful, but they fought defensively. The Mandalorians, HK-47, and the others Cam had brought to her planet were fighting to win. She hadn't known about the hidden features of HK-47 – there was no mention of such things in the novel she'd read – but thinking on it, and considering that Bo-Katan had likely helped with the rebuild, it made sense Cam had outfitted the droid as he had, a war droid rather than an assassin.

Without him and the Mandalorians, it was likely she'd have been forced to surrender; not wanting her security forces to be needlessly slaughtered. Unless Sabé had managed to somehow free them, it would mean that they'd have lost the planet, even if the battles on the plains and in orbit had gone their way.

"I'm concerned about the danger it represents."

Padmé turned, seeing Captain Panaka at her side, a deep scowl on his face as he looked toward HK-47.

"Hk-47 is loyal to Knight Shan; a close friend of both me and Senator Palpatine," she added the Senator's name as she knew Panaka trusted him, "I trust him with my life, and the fate of our planet."

Captain Panaka looked at her, the scowl lessening slightly. "Yes, Your Highness," he replied with a nod of acceptance.

Padmé turned back to the droids and off-world warriors and stepped forward. They'd been here long enough dealing with the Federation's assault. They couldn't delay any more as it might let Gunray escape.

The Mandalorians made no move to acknowledge her approaching, but she knew they were aware. The armour granted them complete vision of their surroundings, and while she was curious how that worked, and what it felt to wear one of their helmets, she'd not asked about it before the battle, fearing it might be culturally taboo to ask that. HK-47 also failed to acknowledge her as she moved, but the way he stepped to one side, offering the greatest possible cover if more Federation droids emerged made it clear he was aware of her presence.

That made her smile and turned her thoughts once again to Cam. When her planet was free, she'd have to figure out how exactly she'd reward him for all his help, as Queen she could not let such a thing go unacknowledged. It would have to be something the Jedi Council wouldn't have concerns about, but she felt Senator – or possibly Chancellor – Palpatine might have some idea. While his actions on Coruscant hadn't brought her the help she'd expected when she'd chosen to leave Naboo, it had brought Cam onto the scene, and with him came an allied force that put to shame any possible help – regardless of how long it would be in creating and gathering it – the Senate could provide.


… …

---

… …
(Cam's POV)
Red filled my vision as I jerked my head, barely avoiding a sweeping attack from Maul's lightsaber. As the blade passed, my lightsaber spun around, catching the other end of his weapon as it came in toward my knee. The blade flicked high, just managing to deflect the next attack of his sequence, though the fourth was too fast for my blade and I was forced to use my shin to block the strike; leaning into the attack so it was pushed downward.

The beskad jerked out, catching the other side of his weapon, and for a brief moment, I had both sides trapped. My lightsaber thrust forward, forcing him to pull back to avoid the tip of the blade as it rushed toward his chest.

I reset my stance, readying myself for the next section of his onslaught, which ever since I'd run out of gas, had increased in ferocity and velocity to a degree that I was lucky to block even half his attacks with my blades. I knew where his attacks were coming from, and could compute the angles faster than the HUD, yet I simply wasn't able to shift fast enough to engage every attack. To say nothing of those that were simply feints designed to draw me into a false move.

My armour was now being used as a much more active defence, and I was still struggling. The only upside to all this was that our fight had reached an isolated location. We'd eventually slipped onto a small island between the royal place and the hangar. Now, the location hadn't been isolated when we'd arrived so a few dozen battledroids had been present, though after they made the mistake of attacking us both, we'd summarily dispatched them – not working together, but just pausing our duel – before our battle resumed without further interruption. What remained of those droids had long since been dispensed with; used as projectiles in our battle.

Through the HUD, the Battlenet was sending me notifications of the battles raging across the planet, and I swore I'd seen flashes of light in the palace; however, I couldn't focus on them. any attempt to shift attention from Maul would cost me my life. All I could do was hope that everyone I cared about was still alive and the battles turning their way. I did hope that Osto Ordo was still inbound for my location. He, like a handful of others, knew of my belief that a Sith would be present on Naboo – though I'd not supplied them with a name – and had orders to, when I alerted him, come to help with the battle. I hoped I'd be victorious, but if I fell, Maul wasn't leaving the planet and Osto had orders to do whatever it took to end the threat Maul presented if he found me dead.

My lightsaber clashed with his, the time all those thoughts had passed through my mind seeming like less than a quarter-second to anyone not trained to draw on the Force. To Maul and myself, as our blades moved around so fast the air had to be a merging of red, white and black light, it felt like a dozen seconds had passed, with twice that many attacks from him coming at me.

As the newest flurry began, I leaned back, letting the first probing attack miss, and then reactivated the sonic generator. This was the sixth time I'd activated it, and while Maul was adapting to it, I kept the usage seemingly random to keep him off-balance as best I could. This time, my blade flicked forward, surging toward his hilt.

The smallest of moments occurred where it looked like I might strike the hilt, and damage his weapon, however, Maul recovered in time that he was able to pull his weapon back. At the same time, one hand moved back faster than the other, pushing the upper section of his weapon down toward me.

I shifted, my blade angling to deflect that away before it could strike my shoulder. My blade then swooped down, blocking a shot aimed at my waist. As his blade pulled back, neither of us allowing our weapons to get into a bind, the upper section of the blade suddenly lurched forward. I moved to the side, avoiding the attack, but he brought the blade down and thrust forward; more so than he'd done before.

The move placed him slightly off-balance, but with me moving to one side, neither of my blades was in a position to block, and the tip of his lightsaber caught and then dragged down my forearm: slashing through the controls of the vambrace.

Given the only unused tool there was a taser, one that would need me to directly grip Maul, the only real loss was the sonic disruptor. Still, losing what had been, until now, my most effective way of keeping Maull off-balance was an issue. One compounded as the tip of the blade slid close to my wrist before withdrawing.

My arm turned, shifting the armour around so the underweave there wasn't exposed to the plasma. The tip of his blade slid down my arm, and thanks to my moving, struck the section of gauntlet covering the back of my hand. Before it could reach my fingers – and the small gaps the armour caused because I was gripping my beskad – I pushed out with my hand and then slapped at the blade with my beskad. The move was a touch reckless, as I put power into the attack on his blade, but it forced it away. The other end of his weapon came in, but because I'd chosen the direction his upper blade moved, I knew where the lower section would be and my lightsaber was there to deflect the attack.

My beskad was already moving, ready to block the upper section of his weapon as the lower pulled back, blocked by my lightsaber. When the beskad clipped the upper blade, my lightsaber went low, thrusting toward his thigh. Maul shimmied back, the tip of my blade melting a hole into the ground. A flick of my wrist sent the super-heated dirt at him, forcing him to use the lower section of his weapon to defend himself.

The beskad surged forward, aiming toward his hilt and hands. Maul saw it coming and turned, but because he'd had to deal with the super-heated dirt, my blade slipped past the upper blade as it came down. The plasma of his weapon smashed into my shoulder. A grunt slipped from my lips as the blow drove my arm low, forcing the beskad down, and ensuring it missed the hilt; instead clipping against the other end of his lightsaber, no more than a few centimetres from his fingers.

I could sense Maul's fury at how close I'd come to if not costing him a hand, then at least damaging his lightsaber. I pulled back, expecting a new flurry of offence from him, though as I did so, I shifted sides, bringing the beskad forward into the main position and the lightsaber secondary. To counter the short reach of the beskad, I turned slightly, narrowing my profile to give him less of a target, my saber rising up beside my head to point at him.

As Maul stepped forward, his blade flicking low in what I took to be a faint, I felt myself smile. While I'd been on the defensive for almost all this duel, letting him dictate the direction and flow of the battle, I'd been enjoying it. To finally go all-out with someone, both trying to kill the other and holding nothing back was a rush I'd not felt in years.

Now, against the Vong there'd been times when I'd pushed myself, almost getting lost in the battle, but while they'd been dangerous, they weren't Force-sensitive. I couldn't sense their thoughts, their feelings mixing with mine as we battled. Something had been missing that I'd never realised until this very moment as my beskad came out, deflecting a strike from above before sliding back to avoid a sweep by the other end of Maul's lightsaber, that came with fighting another Force user. Of giving everything we had against each other in a dance of death.

The beskad flicked forward, nowhere near enough to concern Maul, but the move caught him out and I brought my back foot around in a passing step, thrusting my lightsaber past the beskad. That forced him into a defensive move, one side of his long weapon coming around to push away my thrusting blade.

While he was able to push my lightsaber down, I smirked in triumph as the blade scraped against his thigh, the HUD confirming that I'd burnt his flesh. A brief moment of pain radiated into the Force before Maul's face twitched, his enjoyment of the battle growing enough that I could feel it.

My lightsaber came back, swiftly blocking an attack aimed at my leg by his blade, before my beskad pushed out, deflecting an attack aimed at my side. The lightsaber was barely able to get around to block a strike against my other side before my beskad missed deflecting another attack. That dragged over my thigh, the beskar there taking the blow. The same happened with his next attack; his blade slid around my lightsaber and dragged over my shoulder. Only a quick shift of my body prevented the next attack from slicing through the underweave at my elbow.

My blades swirled around me, my body moving to ensure any strike that slipped by clipped the armour, and I found myself slowly taking steps back, surrendering ground once again to his renewed and furious assault. But for all that, a small well of hope grew within me. I'd caught Maul, meaning there was a real chance I might be able to defeat him.

For every attack, be it a sweep, thrust, slice, or something else, that my blades blocked, three more slipped by. The HUD was struggling to record a spot where the armour hadn't been struck. While I could accept that, as his blade clattered into my helmet for only the second time in the battle, I knew I had to blunt his assault.

After my beskad deflected a strike away, I pushed the hand forward, summoning the Force to me. Maul was already moving, leaping away, as the small Blast raced from my hand, but that granted me a moment of peace from his onslaught. I slid back, generating more room even as it finished moving away from the Force attack, settling into the more standard stance I used with dual blades. My lightsaber forward, the tip horizontal, my frame slightly to one side. The beskad sat lower, covering my front.

Maul rushed forward as soon as he landed, his anger blocking any chance of sensing anything beyond him in the Force. I braced, readying myself for the next furious blitz. My lightsaber flicked forward, tempting him into making a move, hoping that it might generate a small opening for me. Though after the battle so far, I doubted that would be the case. Maul's form was excellent; on par with anything I'd seen from senior Jedi Masters, even in some moments, greater than when I'd sparred against Yoda years ago.

His weapon thrust high. I leaned back, and the other end came in low. My armour blocked it when I leaned into the attack, letting it smash against my forearm. The upper section moved from the side, my lightsaber just getting to it before it reached my elbow. One end flicked low, below my beskad, forcing me to step back to avoid a strike near my knee. The other end swooped in, aimed for my neck. My lightsaber came up, pushing that attack high; the edge of his blade glancing off the dome of my helmet.

That generated a small respite, for perhaps a thousandth of a second, as the other end of his weapon was unable to flick around enough to be a threat. A quick shift of his shoulders had the double-bladed weapon change directions and the higher blade raced back toward my head, ending the momentary respite.

Angling my helmet down, I let the blow glance off it even as my lightsaber thrust forward. That forced him to defend, his blade aborting an attack with the lower section as he shifted; letting my blade miss him. I flicked it to the side, toward his body only for his blade to come up and push it back. A twist of his wrist had his blade roll around mine, forcing me to pull back to avoid a strike against my fingers, and the exposed underweave. That left me open for a low, sweeping strike aimed at my leg.

The attack, like perhaps a thousand before it, clattered off my armour, though as always the beskar held; doing exactly what I needed it to. Without it, I'd have died mere metres from and seconds after Serra had been buried and Maul would have escaped, returning to Sidious' side. However, for all the armour was doing, it was clear this couldn't continue, and with one vambrace destroyed, and time to summon anything from my belt or Inventory non-existent, I had to use my remaining options.

As my thoughts slipped toward considering what I could do, what I might consider to gain an advantage, I felt an odd sensation sweep over me. Suddenly, my blade was moving faster, truer, and with a grace I didn't know I possessed, it blocked a flurry of attacks from Maul with much less effort.

My lightsaber slipped low, catching his blade, and then a rolling of my wrist forced his blade upward, ensuring the other end couldn't come around as he intended. Once I had his blade up, I leaned forward, my blade searing toward his hands. Maul was forced back, a brief widening of his eyes suggesting that like me, he was unsure where that attack had come from.

The faintest of snarls came to Maul's face as he came at me again, though my blade was already moving, getting into place to deflect the attack before it fully formed. Almost as soon as our blades touched, sparks of plasma dancing into the air, my arm was moving, shifting the blade down to block the other end of his weapon. Again, it danced away from the contact, doing just enough to blunt his attack, and then raced around, catching his upper blade before the attack could generate significant power. The next attack, aimed toward my knee, was blocked by my beskad; before my lightsaber then glanced away a strike aimed at my side.

As my blades continued to move, I realised what I was experiencing was, perhaps, how I was meant to connect to the Force; how it was meant to flow with and through a user to help them; to protect and empower them. However, I didn't have time to examine the various notifications from the Interface to see if that was the case. Or if it was something else in play.

Maul's speed increased again, perhaps to as fast as he could manage though I couldn't be sure, and while my blades were still able to intercept his attacks, it was taking a fraction of a moment longer to do so. Slowly, but surely, Maul was overpowering whatever I was doing, and driving his blade closer to my armour once again. Yet, for all the ferocity he was displaying, I was matching it. Or almost so. Enough that while it was working, I had time, oddly, while the air between us became nothing but a mixing of red, white, and black, to consider what my next move would be.

Ideas formed in my head, and then were dismissed in the minute fraction of time that passed between each defensive move I made. Most were dismissed, being unworkable, but a few had potential.

I was driven from my thoughts, and the sense of completeness, as Maul's blade flicked against the armour on my shoulder. A moment later, my blade turning to block a feint that I'd fallen for, Maul's blade slipped toward my hand.

Sparks flew as I pulled my fingers back. My lightsaber winked out, the black and white plasma generated by it gone as Maul's blade clipped the hilt, destroying the weapon.

The ruined hilt fell from my hand as my beskad came around, forced into taking over the entirety of my defence. My now free hand blocked a quick follow-up slash by Maul. By flattening my hand, I sealed the small gaps in the armour that exposed the underweave creating a small shield that I used to push his blade away and pulled my hand away before the blade could clip my wrist.

As the beskad deflected an attack from the other end of his lightsaber, my free hand reached behind me, summoning the shoto to my grip. Yet as it slipped from its bindings, I sensed Maul's blade swooping in, aimed at the elbow of that arm; and the exposed underweave. Understanding the shoto would never reach me in time, I activated it with the Force, and then, as the blade ignited, guided it under my arm – even as I shifted that, ensuring my elbow wasn't in range of Maul's lightsaber – sent it hurtling toward the Zabrak.

Maul aborted his attack, needing to intercept and swat away the small, flying lightsaber. However, as he did that, it left a small window; one that, as the Force shifted around us, I took.

My hand raced forward, free of any blade, slipping past the front blade of Maul's weapon. Darts inside the vambrace, something of a last resort weapon, readied on my command.

Maul, sensing my move, twisted, his body shifting – in comparison to how he'd moved for our entire fight, awkwardly – to bring one end of his lightsaber around to strike my arm. His chest pulled back, trying to delay my fist from striking him. Yet I knew he wouldn't pull back enough, that the blade wouldn't reach me before the darts were fired. The blade would strike my upper arm, clear of any wea….

[NOOOOO!]

The powerful, high-pitched scream through the Force reverberated through my body. For a fraction of a fraction of a second, I paused; hesitating due to Anakin's pained, tortured wail that had been carried to me by the Force.

With my fist mere centimetres from Maul's chest, the darts launched.

As the four small objects impacted his chest, red light filled my sight.

My mind blanked, pain rushing through me, as I stumbled back. Maul did likewise.

My eyes went to my elbow, watching in slow motion as my forearm fell away, severed from my body. Maul's eyes went to his chest, one hand coming from his hilt to swat away the implanted projectiles.

Pain gave way to fury, and then to rage that in my moment of victory, the Force had cheated me of a clean strike. That it felt the need to test Anakin, to hurt him, just as I struck Maul, and potentially gained the advantage in our duel.

Yet before I could focus on that rage, Maul came at me. My beskad rushed up, slapping away his attacks as best I could. A whirlwind of blows crashed against beskar – be it my blade or armour – as I used everything I could to defend myself. The beskad was short, forcing me to rely on the armour more than ever, but I knew if I could avoid another painful strike, then the tide would turn.

Even with one arm all but out of commission – the Force and bacta from the armour working to numb and heal the burnt flesh – I felt time was on my side. The darts had injected senflax; a compound that acted like a sedative, keeping the person conscious while numbing all pain and sensation. It paralyzes primary muscles without affecting vital organs, ensuring the heart, lungs, and other essentials remain unaffected. However, it also clouds the mind, hindering focus and free will. The patient becomes helpless, only able to provide simple answers to direct questions, which should leave Maul unable to draw on the Force, and so long as he didn't overcome the effects too rapidly, allow me to end this battle soon.

After nearly a hundred attacks from Maul, I sensed that he hadn't managed to cleanse himself. His movements, insanely fast as they were, were slowing; the toxin slowly having an effect.

The next flurry from him confirmed this as I was able to use nothing more than the beskad to defend myself. By the next burst of attacks, I countered and even risked attacking with the Beskad, forcing him to defend for the first time since losing my forearm.

Maul seethed, fury pulsing into the Force, yet we both knew the battle was turning, perhaps for the last time. Maul was forced back, my beskad driving him onto the defensive; his blade slowing as he struggled to demand his body do as he wanted.

The Force shifted around us, Maul's rage grew brighter in it, and I found myself pushed back; the beskad was now only used for defence. Several of Maul's blows slipped past my blade, though none landed anywhere near the underweave. However, after nearly three dozen attacks, Maul stumbled back, his breath ragged.

I stepped forward, wanting to keep pushing him, making him keep going. The more he worked, the faster the toxin would shut down his organs, and end the fight. His blade came around, swooping and sweeping, blocking the various flicks, thrusts, and lunges from my beskad. None landed, but each defensive move was slower than the last, and his shoulders were starting to slump.

Again, Maul slipped back, trying to generate space, to recover from the assault on his body. Again, I stepped after him, not letting him rest. Yet just as my blade slipped forward, drawing a defensive blow from his lightsaber, the Force shifted around us. A massive, furious wave of rage grew inside Maul.

I didn't have time to prepare before I was driven back, bouncing end over end away from him. Seething hisses of pain slipped from my lips each time my wounded arm dragged against whatever I bounced off, a startled yelp escaping as it caught for a moment on something. The beskad slipped from my grip on about the twentieth collision, and a grunt emerged as my back slammed into a wall, ending my tumble.

I shook my head, clearing the stars in my vision, and slowly stood; my remaining hand helping me use the wall I'd crashed into for support. Once upright, I summoned my beskad to my hand, the blade sending mud and water flying as the blade had embedded just beyond the river's edge.

Turning, I expected Maul to be coming at me, yet I paused when I saw him fifty metres away, slumped against a wall. His lightsaber was still with him, still active, but only one hand had a grip on the hilt. I walked toward him slowly, the HUD and Interface reporting the various wounds I had and, in the armour's case, what it had done automatically to counter the damage. Outside of my arm, nothing else was damaged, the armour having tanked the damage and the internal mechanics having countered the kinetic effects enough that I wasn't suffering from anything more than a minor concussion.

I did note though that my armour had been broadcasting my fight to the leaders of the alliance, meaning a handful including Osto likely recorded my battle with Maul. Finding myself not minding that, but not wanting what happened next to be public record, I closed the link and then deployed secure commands, meaning no signals were transmitted from my armour.

After a few steps, and seeing Maul unmoving as I approached though his fury clearly painted the Force, I opened the notices from the Interface. They confirmed my injuries, which were only the lost forearm and a minor concussion. However, I also understood that the moment of clarity had come from the interface shutting off its filter for a few seconds. Realising that seemed to alert my body and the next step I took stung, my body finally letting me know how tired and in need of rest it was.

About ten metres from Maul, the HUD and the Force alerted me to approaching allies, and I saw Osto Ordo and three others arrive on the island, their jetpacks picked up by the audio sensors not long after the HUD's report came in.

"Hold," I ordered as the group landed near Maul, weapons raised and primed to end the Zabrak. "He's mine."

The group stepped back; weapons still trained on Maul as I approached. The grip on my beskad tightened as I neared. He had lost, and now his fate was mine to determine.

… …

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… …
A/N: And finally, after 5 and a half years, and a near million words, Cam makes it through the Introduction to his adventures.
... ...
This story is crossposted on Fanfiction.net, Archive of our Own, and Royal Road.
You can find me (and the backroom team who help with this) on Discord at:
For this series: Heart of the Force
For general chaos/Gamer stories: Shiro's Gaming Omniverse

If you wish to - for all but the lowest level - get 2 months of advanced drafts and more for all my works, you can consider supporting my work at:
Patreon: USSExplorer
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Regardless if you join the discord or support my writing, I hope you enjoy the story and suggestions, valid criticisms, and ideas are always welcome.
And of course;

May the Force be with you. Always.​

 

[syneb]

I don't know about other people, but this chapter was extremely annoying to read for me. The constant changing of POVs during the fight, when all I wanted was to see the duel, just kept getting more and more enraging. The fact that I've felt a growing frustration for a while now with Cam's lack of growth in lightsaber combat certainly didn't help it. I'm probably gonna have to go back to re-read the chapter, because at some point I just started skimming over all other POVs. Anyway, this was just my own personal experience.

 

[TheFallenJedi66]

Can he at least put his arm back on? Force is bullshit no?

 

[DariusBlack]

I don't know about other people, but this chapter was extremely annoying to read for me. The constant changing of POVs during the fight, when all I wanted was to see the duel, just kept getting more and more enraging. The fact that I've felt a growing frustration for a while now with Cam's lack of growth in lightsaber combat certainly didn't help it. I'm probably gonna have to go back to re-read the chapter, because at some point I just started skimming over all other POVs. Anyway, this was just my own personal experience.

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No, I absolutely agree. Not about the lightsaber skill growth stuff, but about the changing POVs feeling really frustrating. It feels really jarring to have something that's been built up this much repeatedly interrupted for things that, while necessary to the story as a whole, are significantly less important feeling to the audience. Or, at least, that's my opinion. I really like this story and the authors writing overall, but this chapter's pacing really frustrated me.

Can he at least put his arm back on? Force is bullshit no?

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I'm wondering if this is another Skywalker homage. I'm not gonna lie, the fact that it feels like every Star Wars protagonist, fanfiction or not, has to lose an arm is starting to feel a bit played out. If Cam had to lose something, why not make it something less generic? Although, admittedly, most of the other body parts he could lose would be equally generic. I'm honestly not a big fan of the idea that a main character has to have body parts removed to learn a lesson or show growth in general, to be honest, though I understand why authors use it. It just feels a little played out as an idea and seems primarily to be used for shock value.

 

[auraofcalm]

When you fight with plasma swords long enough you're bound to eventually lose something you were very attached to.

 

[KaiserMoon]

The fact that the darts where described as a las resort weapon, but then had a mild paralytic is kind funny to me. Also, he definitely could have summoned one of the red lightsabers from his inventory to replace the broken one, assuming he is planning on killing Maul since he would be the only one to see it.

 

[Mark Burton]

I don't know about other people, but this chapter was extremely annoying to read for me. The constant changing of POVs during the fight, when all I wanted was to see the duel, just kept getting more and more enraging. The fact that I've felt a growing frustration for a while now with Cam's lack of growth in lightsaber combat certainly didn't help it. I'm probably gonna have to go back to re-read the chapter, because at some point I just started skimming over all other POVs. Anyway, this was just my own personal experience.

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I agreed completely. Whats frustrating me particularly is how often cam loses his temper, acknowledges that it happens too often, and then immediately loses his temper again.

Truth be told I'm not sure how much longer I'll stick with this story or any of its writers works, because of repeat tropes and irritations like this that appear in their stories.

Yes a protagonist need to overcome adversity to be interesting and grow (lest they just be an overpowered self insert.) But it doesn't need to be constantly feeling like the protagonist is weak. This also applies to hero praising; just because the SI meets a character from the story doesnt mean they are ultra strong and unbeatable by the protagonist.

Anywho. Do as you will mister author, im just venting

 

[JohnSmithMIB]

So he's through the block and now just needs to figure out how to trigger the zen state. Next step is to chop off Maul's arms and legs, drug him to the gills, and then haul him to the Jedi for interrogation right? That and wrecking replaceable parts of his saber. Cam's allies showing up though screws with the conversation or actions he could have had with his battlelink being off as I'd expect at least one mando to have the ability to eavesdrop built into their helmets.

As far as pacing goes it felt a lot like commercial breaks. The only one that might have needed to be dropped in timing-wise was the Bo POV but it could have been moved to the end if the scene with Maul was completed. We didn't get a hard cliff which is nice but another few paragraphs seemed like they'd stitch that sequence up nicely. I would also have preferred to have the Padme, Asta, and Vhonte POVs at the beginning and a "10 minutes earlier" tag at the start of each of the POVs after the first that way the fight would have felt like a continuous build up to the end.

There's still cleanup to do since Padme hasn't got Gunray yet and there's still two crippled Lucrehulks in orbit that need to be captured. Seeing the fallout of Naboo for both the planet and all the factions around the galaxy (Lokella, Mando, Jedi, Sith) will be awesome. As always, I'm excited to read more and see how USSExplorer moves the universe further away from canon events.

the Lokella'ade had kept the training regiments and taught them to their new members.

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regimen

 

[Silverbladestar]

Yeah, large parts of this chapter I hated, mostly the parts with his dual with Maul. The first part stinks of emotional drama and mind games. Even beyond that, the dual was drawn out and fought stupidly. Maul is strong, yes, but he should have won that fight by using his anti-force tools he brought smartly, instead of just drawing it out for drama. And really, that part with Anakin at the end costing him his arm, is just such cheap bullshit. The Pov switching was kinda annoying, but the way the dual was handled is what made me mad.

 

[Grimmouse197]

I don't know about other people, but this chapter was extremely annoying to read for me. The constant changing of POVs during the fight, when all I wanted was to see the duel, just kept getting more and more enraging. The fact that I've felt a growing frustration for a while now with Cam's lack of growth in lightsaber combat certainly didn't help it. I'm probably gonna have to go back to re-read the chapter, because at some point I just started skimming over all other POVs. Anyway, this was just my own personal experience.

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The author seems to follow the formulas of most other gamer stories. Rapid growth at the start then the MC hits a massive wall and the stats and skill levels start to grow at a snails pace.

 

[USSExplorer]

I don't know about other people, but this chapter was extremely annoying to read for me. The constant changing of POVs during the fight, when all I wanted was to see the duel, just kept getting more and more enraging

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about the changing POVs feeling really frustrating. It feels really jarring to have something that's been built up this much repeatedly interrupted for things that, while necessary to the story as a whole, are significantly less important feeling go the audience.

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I write this story, and the others, months ahead of what I post here (I'm 5 chapters ahead, fyi, with each going through planning, drafts and redrafts before I'm happy with them). Just because you, dislike how I handle a chapter/event - as I suspect you both did with TPM4 - isn't going to have me go back and spend ages changing it to suit your tastes. I write, first and foremost, for myself.

The fact that I've felt a growing frustration for a while now with Cam's lack of growth in lightsaber combat certainly didn't help it.

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Yes a protagonist need to overcome adversity to be interesting and grow (lest they just be an overpowered self insert.) But it doesn't need to be constantly feeling like the protagonist is weak. This also applies to hero praising; just because the SI meets a character from the story doesn't mean they are ultra strong and unbeatable by the protagonist.

Click to shrink...

Maul is strong, yes, but he should have won that fight by using his anti-force tools he brought smartly, instead of just drawing it out for drama.

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That has something that's been set in place for a while, as you say, and intentional. He has the skill, but not the connection/understanding of the Force to be the "force" he should be. Even then, he's 17, with 9 years of training. Against someone like, oh I don't know DARTH MAUL, who was trained from birth - and is around 10 years older than Cam - under insanely difficult conditions by Sidious to be capable of taking on High Council members, the fact Cam struggled with him doesn't make him weak.
Maul killed the current and former Jedi Battlemasters (Drallig and Bondara). People considered some of the best fighters in the Order. And he did so handily. Cam lasting as long as he did (which, fyi, wasn't that long as Cam was fighting that entire fight at his absolute limit, which was made clear at times unless you didn't bother to pay attention) is a small miracle, and sign he came into the fight prepared.

And as for the idea Cam could overwhelm Maul with the Force... that's not how it works. Otherwise there'd be no need for lightsabers. While it is possible, understand the insane training Sidious put Maul through - which Plagueis put him through - and understand how likely it would be for Cam, even with his abilities, to somehow be able to overwhelm Maul in ways that Sidious has spent decades training him to counter,. Because of that, Cam came at the fight from a non-Jedi mindset, and drew on the tech of a group who know how to fight and kill Force users.
and it worked.

Whats frustrating me particularly is how often cam loses his temper, acknowledges that it happens too often, and then immediately loses his temper again.

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Cam is flawed, and just because you know you have a weakness, doesn't make it easy to remove. Not when the source of so much of your problems can't be. The difference, unless it flew over your head, is that here, unlike say Vosa or the Vong, Cam regained control quickly. That's improvement.
Of course if that's too slow for you, or you want him to be perfect, you'd better get off now.

Truth be told I'm not sure how much longer I'll stick with this story or any of its writers works, because of repeat tropes and irritations like this that appear in their stories.

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The door's wide open. Nothing stopping you getting out, nor will you be missed.