Tanya the Jedi

[Half_Baked_cat]

Arriving at the landing platform, Anakin and Kenobi were greeted to the sight of a classic Nabooian shuttle. Long sleek design with smooth curves and sharp lines in a shining chrome that reflected the surroundings.

The ramp was already down and the pair got their first look at the delegation-

DANGER!

-before a rocket came screaming down from a cluster of buildings. The pair of Jedi had their lightsabers in hand as they rushed out to get a better look. The delegation was on the ground and while the ship was mostly in one piece, it would not be flying anytime soon.

"Anakin, check for survivors," Kenobi's order was swift as he scanned the surroundings, feeling out in the Force for where the rocket came from and if anymore were coming.

Anakin ran to the ship, now off balanced and leaning on a wing, the ramp destroyed and bodies strewn about. Anakin could feel as the life slipped out of those who managed to not instantly die, succumbing to the severity of their wounds.

The lights inside the ship were flickering, cargo strewn about. The first person Anakin came across had a feel in the Force he would recognize anywhere. The Angel that brought the Jedi who freed him from slavery.

She was unconscious, but pulse was steady and her presence in the Force was strong. She would hold for now. As much as Anakin wanted to help her, his rescue training told him to check if there was anyone else alive in worse condition before helping someone that is already stable.

Another familiar Force presence was the next person he came across. Head of Padme's security detail if Anakin remembered correctly. Pulse steady, Force presence weakened, but steady. Blood on head.

Anakin did not have a medkit on him, so he would have to improvise. Tearing off a sleeve of his robe, Anakin made a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding. Moving onto the cockpit, Anakin found the pilot was awake and helping to bandage up a female servant that must have been talking to him when the missile hit.

"How is she doing?" Anakin could feel her presence, strong and steady. Survival likely. Show concern to comfort the victims and put them at ease.

"A bit banged up, nothing too bad. What about everyone else?" The pilot looked to Anakin. The fear and concern was in his voice.

There would be no comfort in a lie, they would find out soon enough. Anakin shook his head. "Dead. We got two other survivors on the ship, but everyone else was caught in the blast outside the ship."

"Padme?"

"Unconscious, but alive." Anakin pulled out a small device out of a pocket inside his robes. "Here, this should help you two get off the ship. I'm going to help the others."

"Thank you Master Jedi."

—-

Kenobi searched the area with his senses, feeling for where the attack came from as he called in to the Temple about the events and a request for assistance. Already he could hear the sirens of emergency dispatch on its way.

He could see the open window the attack came from, but pursuit would have to wait. Protecting the lives remaining was more important.

Anakin landed behind him, laying down an unconscious figure. "Four alive. Two conscious."

The copy of the manifest Kenobi read early listed twelve passengers and crew on board. Most of them now lay dead.

"I have backup incoming. Help the rest off the ship and once the backup arrives we will go after the perpetrator."

"Yes Master."

Once medical personnel arrived on the scene, Obi-Wan directed them to the first person Anakin helped off the ship and give a recount of events.

"We got a concussion here!" Anakin's voice calls out, a group of the EMTs rushed over to Padme.

"Take the survivors to the Temple. The Jedi will provide for their care," Kenobi calls out.

The distance between the landing pad and either the hospital or the Temple was nearly identical, so time would not become an issue. Sending them to the Temple however would provide better care and protection.

"Anakin, we need to track the assassin, the missile came from that window. You go on ahead, I'm going to let the Temple know to be ready for emergency treatment."

"Yes Master." Anakin did a running start before flying off as Obi-Wan pulled out a comm.

—-

Anakin's anger was close to boiling over. How could someone dare to hit an angelic being like Padme? He was going to find the person and destroy them.

Entering through the window left open, Anakin easily spotted the rocket launcher next to the bed. Closing his eyes, Anakin reached out into the Force.

Dark clouds swirling, undulating, obscuring.

Nothing usable there. Looking around, Anakin spotted a shimmering thing on the ground. Picking it up, he saw it was reptilian scales.

Looking at the room and thinking about where he flew to and from, Anakin believed he was in a hotel room. A mid range option that would clean between guests.

Pulling out a portable analyzer Anakin dropped the molting skin in and turned the device on. As it did its thing, he began looking over the rest of the hotel room for other clues. He already knew his target was a reptilian species of some sort, but if he could find an article of clothing he should be able to narrow down to a rough body size and shape.

"And what do we have here?"

Anakin turned to the window at his master's voice, Kenobi sitting in an airspeeder he had acquired.

"The assassin is a reptilian species, currently molting. I have the skin I found analyzing... analyzed," Anakin quickly corrected himself as the device beeped its completion picking up the device and looking at the readout, Anakin spat out a curse. "Changeling. They could be looking like anyone right now."

Kenobi's face fell as he realized their trail was already rather cold. "Grab the launcher. We might be able to get something off it back at the Temple."

—-

Garm Iblis was grateful that the resort and casino opening on Ryloth already had all the amenities opened for the event. The spa would keep his wife busy and out of earshot of anyone important that could be easily offended by her opinions.

Coincidentally, it would also free him up to enjoy the evening by playing a few games of chance and chatting up a particularly lovely blue skinned server. Whoever designed the uniforms did a wonderful job in his humble opinion.

All the female servers walked around in tight white shirts topped with half length black jackets that left their midriffs bare, black skirts that were puffed out by white lace, long leggings that left just a hint of thigh showing between the top of the leggings and the bottom of the skirts, and black, kitten heeled pumps.

A wonderfully decadent wrapping that kept the beautiful Twi'lek women on the appropriate side of decent.

"Sir, I believe we should be leaving soon."

Unfortunately, Garm had to bring one of his aides along to brief him on the upcoming Military Creation Act vote. Fischer was a good worker. Kept his head down and completed any task assigned efficiently. The man was just such a bore who couldn't find a good time if he was left tied up in a Zeltros strip club with a bag of credits, a bag of spice, and a dozen women.

"Relax. It would take an emergency session for us to miss the vote and there has not been any recent activity to warrant such actions. Here, take these chips and join the game."

"I am not sure tha-"

"Have a drink, join the game, and have some damn fun. Consider it an order if you have to."

"Yes sir."

Garm might just have to take his aide to Zeltros one of these days to get the man to unwind.

—-

Ziro the Hutt would have enjoyed being a part of the Grand Opening on Ryloth. The sights, the sounds, the fun. The timing of events just did not work out. There were a few... delicate operations he was currently overseeing in the underbelly of Coruscant. Operations that could not be delegated to another.

Nothing illegal. At least, nothing currently illegal. Some recent inquiries were made about a drug not currently on the market, either market. As far as Ziro knew, the drug did not exist and thanks to the way the Republic laws were written the creation of new designer drugs was not illegal so long as certain substances were avoided.

The request came from a mercenary wanting a stimulant and numbing agent. Something that would stop them feeling pain while keeping them wide awake. A combat drug.

There were several combat drugs in the market, but the client was rather clear on what side effects he would find acceptable and which would be unacceptable. The easiest way Ziro's associates believed they could produce this new combat drug was to suspend several other drugs within a bacta solution.

The importation of large quantities of bacta was perfectly legal in Coruscant. That it was being listed as luggage and not cargo was simply a clerical error.

It was the quantities involved for a one time drop off that personally involved Ziro. He could not allow any to 'drop off the back' when his profits in processing it all into a new drug were at stake.

If all goes well and the mercs like it, maybe the Hutts would get fully involved in distribution.

 

[Half_Baked_cat]

Jedi Master Quinlan Vos was anxious. He was a man of action, a Jedi who likes to always be on the move doing whatever he could to help the Galaxy at large. It was only when the stakes were high, his life was on the line, and a goal was in front of him that he truly felt calm.

The Temple on Coruscant was not that. It was a peaceful place of methodical meditation and careful consideration. It was a place that set Quinlan Vas's teeth on edge and made the tribal marking across his nose itch.

Splashing water on his face, Quinlan took a deep breath to set himself at ease. He knew he had a reputation for impulsive behavior. That despite his rank of Master and the free range in how he handles missions, he was not truly trusted by the council. It was just so difficult to sit still when there was work he could be doing. Actions he could take to make someone's life better. That was what he and his fellow Jedi were here for and it was something he fully agreed with. The Temple was just a bit too slow to react to the Galaxy for his tastes. Too reactive. Too passive.

Shaking the water droplets off his face, Quinlan grabbed a towel and wiped his face clean before stepping out of his apartment.

"Hello there," a familiar voice called out, making a grin appear on Quinlan's face.

"Kenobi, good to see you," Quinlan said, getting his old friend.

"I am glad to see you are here. Could you help us with a little issue we are facing?"

"Straight to business, same as always," Quinlan looked Kenobi over and noticed the serious look on Anakin's face even as Kenobi's was much warmer. "What can I do for you?"

"We have a rocket launcher used in an assassination attempt. Can you use your psychometry to help us figure out where the suspects might have gone to next?"

Quinlan gave a nod and reached out to the item in question with his hand and the force.

The ability to see the history of an item was a rare gift among Jedi and one that was not looked on favorably by the high council due to the risks involved in its use. The user would feel the echoes in the force from the item including the emotions felt during its use. Weapons in particular were rarely used with the calm and grace a Jedi strived to achieve and maintain at all times and the dark emotions felt in combat by those not sensitive to the force could lead a Jedi down a dark path that was difficult to turn back from.

Despite the risks, the ability gave Quinlan Vos a distinct advantage in tracking people down, so he had practiced the ability to a truly amazing level. Grasping the rocket launcher his mind was thrust into the past and into a different mind.

Calming her mind, she began the process of separating herself from the memory and remembering who he was and that he was watching a memory. Once he was looking through the echo as an outside observer, Quinlan paid partial attention to the events of the assignation attempt, looking for other echoes he could follow along.

Grasping one, he found himself in a multitude of memories, an echo built from repetition. A club frequented after a job was completed where she was known by her human disguise.

Separate self from echo.

Quinlan reestablished who he was and began looking for a name. He knew where to go, but did not know who he was tracking. If only more people were more vain, it would be so much easier to track them down. The more self absorbed people left strong echoes of exactly who they were. Changelings on the other hand were always far more focused on hiding and blending in that their surroundings were what they focused on.

It took far too long to find the name.

"Zam Wesell," Quinlan Vos said as he came out of the vision. "A Clawdite mercenary. I know where she probably went."

"Lead the way," Kenobi said, following his friend out of the Temple.

—-

The Archives were a treasure trove of information so detailed and across such a wide range of topics that even someone with the life span of Grand Master Yoda would have difficulty getting through it all. In the heart of the Archive was a vault that contained the most important and dangerous information. Lists vital for the Jedi Order's continued functioning, holocrons with dangerous techniques, and Sith information.

Only two people had full access to the Vault's most dangerous information with the entirety of the High Council needing to agree to give limited access to any other member of the Order.

It was with the full access granted to him as Master of the Order that allowed Mace to scratch his curiosity, to delve deep into the records of the Order to see if he might find who Padawan Degurechaff, or even who he was, in their past lives.

The duties placed upon him kept his dives into the deeper reaches of the archives quicker and less frequent than he might have liked, but he finally located several files that looked promising. In particular was a manifesto written thousands of years ago that bore a lot of similarities to the proposal Degurechaff wrote only a few years ago. The differences though were disturbing.

The manifesto was titled, "The Economic Impact on the Utilization of Enslaved Populations within the Empire and How to Dismantle the Dependency on Slavers by Darth Gental".

An anti-slavery manifesto written by a Sith of all things.

Mace Windu began to pace the Vault as his grip on the tablet tightened. The Force had not led him to this information. The Force had nothing to provide him in the form of guidance. The Force had been very quiet lately, as though a shroud was being put in place to blind the Jedi.

With a deep breath, Mace released his frustration into the Force and focused on the information at hand. Reading through the manifesto, he saw similar arguments Padawan Degurechaff would have and did make in her proposal, but the methods and tactics proposed had a much darker bend to them. Of brutally killing slavers and using their corpses as examples of what would befall and other slavers that got in the Darth's way.

The scraps of information not written into the manifesto gave Mace a clear enough idea of what Darth Gental's life was like. A red headed slave punished in such a way to leave a distinctive chain shaped scar across his face before he somehow clawed his way into the Sith ranks where he eventually went on a crusade against slavers. The Jedi of the time warned not to fully trust him, but that if slavers were involved he could be worked with peacefully enough.

Copying the files to take with him, Mace Windu left the Vault no longer sure he wanted to know what his past life's self was like. Both he and Padawan Degurechaff had difficulty at a young age dealing with the darker emotions and needing a way to channel the dark side of the Force in a way that was only harmful for enemy combatants. They both had lightsaber crystals that were violet in color. What else did they have in common? Were they both Sith in a previous life?

Mace Windu stopped as the question he was trying to avoid asking crossed his mind. He looked into his reflection on the windowed surface overlooking the Hall of a Thousand Fountains.

He was himself, no matter what a previous life might have been. He had achieved his current position in the Order through his own efforts, overcoming the difficulties in his own way. He would continue to not let a past life dictate his current self or his future actions.

Looking at the tablet with the information on Padawan Degurechaff's previous life saved, he had to ask himself a different question, 'Was the allure of long lost techniques causing the council to push one of their younger members into a bad path? Were they leading her astray by having her rewalk down a dark path?'

Master Yoda would have no answers, but, in his long years at the Temple, Mace knew the old master would be able to help find the best path forwards.

—-

"Our attempted assassin came to hide out in a club?" Kenobi asked Quinlan Vos.

"No. She comes here often. They make cocktails just the way she likes them."

"Let's go," Anakin said, starting to head in before being grabbed by his Master.

"Not so fast my young Padawan, we can't just go barging in."

"Obi-wan is right. I'm the only one of us who could tell who she is to begin with. I'll go in and try to make contact."

"I'll go around to the back. Anakin, keep an eye on the front. She might try to make a run for it if she realizes that we are here and after her."

"Yes Master." With a nod, Anakin took up position across from the entrance to the club, leaning against a wall.

Obi-wan Kenobi went down an alleyway till he spotted the back door of the club. Looking around, he found a nearby ledge that offered an excellent vantage point and jumped up to it. Once he was in position, he quietly whispered his readiness over a comm to Quinlan Vos who entered the club.

The Outlander Club was a nightclub and gambling hall that specialized in clients of ill-repute and the high class clientele that enjoyed getting to know a few unsavory individuals. A place where names did not matter and faces rarely stayed in one place. Heading to the bar, Quinlan stared down the other patrons while he got a drink. A disgusting concoction with no attempt to balance the strong ethanol with any sweetness or acidity. It almost tasted like straight alcohol with a tinge of a swampy green color.

Carrying his drink Quinlan made his way around the club glancing at the games being played and the drugs being sold. Quinlan Vos was at peace. There was a tension as though a fight could break out at any moment. Distrust could be tasted in the air behind the stale sweat and acrid smoke of death sticks.

Spotting the human form of the would be assassin, Quinlan put a swagger in his step and sat across from her.

"Zam Wesell?"

"Who's askin'?" The glare she gave was formidable. Eight out of ten by Quinlan's measure, but nothing compared to some of the territorial mothers whose nests he stumbled upon.

Leaning back and sliding a hand under the table, Quinlan opened his robe to show his lightsaber. "A Jedi. Got some-"

Quinlan jerked. A blaster was fired.

"- questions to ask you." Quinlan was gripping Zam's blaster under the table, aiming the business end down at the floor.

"I got nothing to say to you," Zam growled, trying to adjust her aim against the strong grip Quinlan had.

"How about I do the talking for a moment then, Changeling?" Quinlan smirked at the extra heat the term got out of her. "Associates of mine found that you attempted to assassinate a senator. We know you are not an ideologue who would die for the cause. No, you are just some hired gun paid to do the dirty work. You give us the name of who hired you and we let you walk away."

"I snitch, and I'll be killed. The one who hired me paid good money and is not the type to let loose lips live."

"We can help then. Transfer your credits to a new identity, take you to a new place, set you up with a new life."

"Like the Jedi would do something so underhanded as to help some 'criminal thug' like me escape my past."

"You will find I am not like most Jedi. I don't stay cooped up in the Temple all day. I know what it takes to get what I need done. If that means a few laws need to be broken, well I'm not one to look too closely at what has been written into the books recently."

"What kind of place would you take me to?"

"I have some business out in the Tion Cluster. I can drop you off anywhere on the way."

"No tracker."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"And five thousand credits."

"Done."

"I tell you after I have the credits and new identity in hand."

Quinlan Vos let go of the blaster. "If that is all, put your blaster away and I'll call my associates and let them know we will be leaving peacefully together."

"You are awfully trusting, Jedi."

"I show you a bit of trust and let you feel comforted by your blaster, and we can get this done quicker and easier. Like I said earlier, we want your boss, not you. You are not being arrested and you having your blaster will remind you of that as we head to the Temple."

Zam nodded to herself. "Right. Make your call and let's go. The stink of this place is starting to get to me."

With a nod, Quinlan pulled out his comm. "I have located the target. We will be exiting together through the front."

Two confirmations later, Quinlan and Zam quickly finished their drinks and headed out the front. Zam took three steps before grabbing her neck and collapsing to the ground. Quinlan Vos reacted quickly, slowing her descent to the ground and setting her on her back.

Her pulse was stopped, she was no longer breathing, her face caught in its final moment. She was dead. Moving Zam's hands, Quinlan found a dart just as Anakin and Obi-wan arrived on the scene.

 

[Half_Baked_cat]

Even unconscious with medical probes in place, Padme was still a shining angel, beautiful and pure in a way Anakin had not seen in another. That someone would dare to hurt someone so bright left Anakin feeling emotions he knew were not the Jedi way. Anger. Hatred. He wanted to find the ones responsible and kill them, but he couldn't. He shouldn't. He was a Jedi, a protector of the Peace. Not some criminal thug.

Anakin could take some solace in the one who pulled the trigger being dead, but the ones who ordered it were still out there somewhere. And Anakin couldn't do anything about it. Master Kenobi had a possible lead he was following to figure out where they could go next, but Anakin was ordered to keep an eye on Padme. To be a final line of defense.

Like anyone would be foolish enough to attack the temple. Jedi were always coming and going through the halls, always aware of what was going on around them. It was impossible for an assassin to sneak into the temple.

Which left Anakin sitting in a chair, watching a medical monitor that he didn't understand. The steady beep as lines drew on the screen and numbers in the corner seemed to hover around the same values. The medics had already stopped by and explained Padme should make a full recovery and was being kept in a Force induced sleep to speed the recovery along.

The steady beep was a surprisingly calming sound, even in an uncomfortably clean, white environment. Calming as was the slow, steady rise and fall of Padme's chest as she dozed. Rise and fall. Beep. Rise and fall. Beep.

Rise.

Fall.

Beep.

A scream of pain jolted Anakin awake.

"Mother," Anakin whispered as his eyes darted around the room.

It had been years since Anakin was concerned for his mother. She was free. Free and married to a man Anakin could tell would treat her well. Why was he dreaming about his mother now? Why did she sound like she was in pain?

Anakin was breathing hard. Padme was still sleeping peacefully and was safe, but the room felt so small and confining.

Anakin got up and swept out of the room, his feet moving at a steady pace as he got his breathing under control. His stride was purposeful as he headed to the Room of a Thousand fountains. It was one of many peaceful meditation locations within the temple. A massive space full of flora and fauna from across the Galaxy. It was not one Anakin typically preferred to spend time meditating, the various hangers being more enjoyable for him to spend time in, but the heavy, moist air that left Anakin feeling like he was drowning and wide open spaces was what he wanted right now. The comforting heavy air and moisture filling his lungs reminded him he was away from the horrible dust ball of Tatooine. The open spaces calmed his nerves as he tried to piece through what he saw and heard.

His mother looked to be in pain. Like she was being tortured. Jedi didn't dream, Anakin knew that they were too connected to the Force and that what he saw had to be real. Or would be real. Could be real. Force visions were not limited to the present. Was his mother currently in danger? Could he save her before something awful happened?

"Anakin."

Anakin turned around to see Obi-Wan strolling over with a contemplative look to his face.

"Master. Do you have a lead?"

"Yes. Kamino."

"I am not familiar with Kamino," Anakin admitted.

"I would suspect not," Obi-Wan said as he motioned Anakin to follow him. "It was not listed in the archives. It is a planet of cloners in the outer rim. The saber dart used is one of their designs."

Obi-Wan stopped in the middle of an empty hall and turned to Anakin and placed a hand on the Padawan's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Of course Master," Anakin said, forcing a smile.

Obi-Wan seemed to search Anakin's face. A feeling of disappointment seemed to emanate from Master Kenobi.

"Good. I am going to Kamino by myself to investigate. I want you nearby. Keep your comms on you."

Obi-Wan began leading the pair towards the hangars, Anakin following his Master dutifully.

"Nearby, Master?"

"Yes. Perhaps Tatooine. That should place you close enough to me to respond quickly Should I require the backup."

Anakin managed to avoid stumbling at hearing his home planet's name being brought up.

"Are you sure Master?"

"I see no issue with you being in a nearby sector unsupervised so long as you keep your comms on you. I believe you are nearly ready to go on missions without me watching your back."

"You watching my back? Master, have you for-…"

"We do not need to discuss what happened-"

"Are you sure Master, I remember being the one to-"

"Yes yes, anyways, we are here at the hangar."

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin and looked him in the eyes. "Do try to avoid doing anything reckless. And keep the comms on."

Anakin had a smirk on his lips. "Of course."

—-

Anakin's time on Tatooine was incredibly stressful, boiling his darker emotions over as a village of Tusken Raiders was brutalized and his mother laid to rest.

Kenobi's trip to Kamino was eye opening as he uncovered an entire secret army that had been constructed for the Republic's use by the Jedi and to be under Jedi command. A shocking revelation that he proceeded to communicate back to the Temple before calling Anakin and telling his Padawan to meet him at Geonosis, where they were swiftly captured for being bad at stealth.

—-

The Jedi temple was on high alert. Knights and Masters running around, younglings with lessons canceled, Padawans sent to help ready transport ships. In the High Council, Mace Windu was gathered with the other Council members discussing the current emergency situation.

"A decisive stealth strike should end this before it truly begins," the small and stern Even Piell said. "We take a large group, enter the arena where Kenobi and his Padawan are being held. Once they are brought out, we reveal ourselves, demand their release and the kidnappers face justice for this crime."

"Agreed," Saesee Tiin said, nodding his horned head in agreement. "Holding Jedi hostage like this is inexcusable and must be dealt with swiftly."

"Hmm, sense difficulty, I do," Yoda said, a troubled look on his face. "Gather the Clone Army Kenobi discovered, I will. As reinforcement, we will come."

Mace Windu stood up, effectively ending the meeting, "I will lead the vanguard and take the fastest ship we have along with the Jedi able to fit or can be called on to meet at Geonosis. The rest will go with Master Yoda or meet at Kamino."

With that, for the first time in a millennium, the Jedi mobilized enmass for war.

—-

As expected of a bank located in a tourist focused area, the barriers to opening an account were very low. Just a few short forms, my deposit of the winnings I had managed to achieve, and a couple of biometric points so that losing or misplacing my bank card would not be an issue the next time I was on Ryloth and required funds. Not that I would likely ever need to touch the account as most of the civilized parts of the Galaxy were willing to treat Jedi as honored guests and the parts that would not would either not accept Republic Credit anyways, or would be amiable to the credits I would be provided for mission expenses.

With a final signature agreeing to terms, my new savings account was opened when my comms unit went off.

"Padawan Degurechaff here," I said, excusing myself from the office to take the call, moving to a secluded location to have some peace.

"Meet at Kamino you must. Send coordinates we will."

The call ended there. It must be serious if the Grand Master was calling without any pleasantries. Wasting no time I began moving, spotting a familiar face in the direction I was going, I called out. "Viceroy, a moment please."

"Ah, the young Jedi. How may I help you?" Viceroy Gunray had a smile on his face as he turned to face me.

"Transportation," I answered as I came to a stop in front of him. "I just received an emergency call and have to leave this party early. If you could provide a ship and pilot for a trip to a nearby System, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course," the Viceroy said, nodding to an assistant before putting a hand around my shoulder and leading me outside. "While my assistant gets the ship ready, let's talk."

"What would you like to discuss?"

Several emotions I could not identify passed over the insectoid face of the Viceroy before he started. "I would like to first thank you once again for saving my life."

"No need, Viceroy. You have more than shown your thanks in helping get this entire venture off the ground."

The Viceroy chuckled. "Of course. This venture has already proven itself most profitable. I await to see how this develops further."

"I am sure the only ones who will be upset will be the slavers as fewer individuals local to the planet will need to sell themselves into such an unfortunate state of being." A gentle reminder of the reason for the Jedi involvement would not hurt.

The venture was, from the Jedi standpoint, suppose to be a novel method of killing off the slave industry by showing it to not be the most economical way of doing business. Workers are the most productive when properly compensated for their efforts. Slavery gave workers no motivation to perform well other then not dying, which results in resentful workers performing significantly below their potential.

"Of course, of course. Getting the most out of your sentient workforce through compensation. Your theories are showing promising results. The calculations of the benefits to profits have not been finalized yet, but we are seeing greater than a credit return for every credit put in. There are concerns that the rate of return will eventually fall off though."

"Diminishing returns are to be expected. The goal is not to pay people the maximum amount possible, but the amount to get the maximum effort from them. A fair compensation package that satisfies all the employees' needs and keeps their morale high so they willingly put in the most effort into their work. Once you find that point, it will be important to maintain the ideal balance point between improved compensation and diminished returns on the investments in your employees."

"I have spoken to several Jedi in the past, but you are the first to talk like a reasonable person."

I couldn't keep an impassive expression on my face, a smile crossing my lips. "That is because we Jedi are taught and trained to be moral examples for people, to the point that some of us lose sight of what normal people are like. Morality is not the most important thing in the day to day life of most people. With that said, it is possible to still be moral in word and deed even while focusing on other important aspects of life and business. It just takes a little extra effort and thought to reap the benefits of a moral existence in an immoral world."

"Hmm," Viceroy Gunray grew quiet as we finished the walk to the pad with his transport ship waiting. A fat bug looking ship with a large fin on the back sticking straight up doubling the height of the ship. I'm sure it had some functional purpose, but I did not know much about the various spacecraft on the market.

I was several steps up the gangplank on the rear of the shuttle when I noticed Gunray was not following. "Are you staying for the rest of the opening event?"

"Yes. I have several conversations lined up that I cannot easily skip. Inform the automatic pilot your destination and when you get there just tell it to return."

"Thank you, sir."

—-

The trip to Kamino was quiet. Just a gentle hum of the ship's engines and the soft beep of the automatic pilot system. The ship had a simple luxury to it that did not cross into a tasteless opulence. Thick, comfy seating of some sort of natural fiber material that was incredibly soft and warm dark wooden furnishings. There were electrum fixtures as well, but the amount was not excessively gaudy, just around the lights to accent the space. Wealthy without overcompensation.

"Leaving hyperspace in three… two… one," the synthesized voice of the automatic pilot rang out of hidden speakers followed by the distinct jerk of coming out of hyperspace. Stepping up to the front of the ship I was greeted to the sight of large wedge shaped ships hanging above a blue orb as a flurry of ships scurrying between the planet's surface and the massive ships.

As we got closer, an incoming transmission was received.

"Sheathipede-class transport shuttle, state your business," a voice demanded.

"Jedi Padawan Tanya Degurechaff, here on orders from Grand Master Yoda of the Jedi Council."

"Copy that. Sending flight path now. You will be met by 601 on platform eight."

 

[Half_Baked_cat]

6-W-2-601-4-14Inf-C2-3A-Delta stood awaiting the arrival of their new general on Space Platform 9. Delta Squad was a very standard clone squad, comprising eight privates, a corporal who stood as the second in command, and a sergeant commanding the infantry squad. Every member was trained to standard specifications as none had shown any aptitude for a particular specialized role or any talent in leadership beyond what was needed to convey orders to their fellow squadmates. To an outside observer, the ten troopers would appear to be a cluster of perfect soldiers, all standing quietly by as they waited for the Sheathipede-class transport shuttle designated Lapiz Cutter to land and unload the Jedi who would lead them in in the coming conflicts. On the squad's private channel, it was a different matter.

"Anyone know anything about the Jedi we'll be following?" Private CT-7756 asked.

"No," Corporal CT-5864 responded. "There was no briefing on the individual Jedi outside of the current high level leadership of their organization. And each one of them got a specially selected Legion or Battalion."

"So, no rumors at all?"

"Shut it!" Sergeant CT-3012 suddenly ordered, "They're here."

The back of the Lapiz Cutter descended and a small figure stepped down the ramp. Bipedal with two arms, from what could be seen, and wearing a robe adorned with details not found on reference images of the standard Jedi robe. Those details should mark them as a high ranking member of the Order, based on what Sergeant CT-3012 understood of general social norms.

On the other hand, The Jedi Order seemed to have less of a strict command structure compared to the Grand Army of the Republic, so it was possible the markings indicated that their position was somehow outside of the standard chain of command, similar to a pilot or some other form of warrant officer. The coloration of the Jedi's skin, combined with the light colored fur on the scalp, limited the number of possible species their new superior could be to a small number of near-human to human species. Their diminutive size led to the Sergeant categorizing his new general as most likely being a near-human species.

A good soldier follows orders, regardless of what their CO was. Taking a step forwards, the Sergeant saluted the General, quickly followed by his squad. "Welcome to Kamino, General. We will lead you to the debriefing."

"I am not a General," the Jedi stated with a tilt of their head, a serious gaze sweeping across the ten clones present.

"What have you been informed of?" the Sergeant asked. They had been briefedg that some of the Jedi might not be up to date on their new ranks in the GAR, as the situation was currently very flexible.

"Grand Master Yoda told me to come here. Other than that, I have not been informed of anything."

"Well, General, I cannot say much about the current conflict, but I can answer a few questions as we move to the meeting hall. Starting with that, the Jedi are now Generals of the Grand Army of the Republic."

"The Republic doesn't have an army."

"They do now. The Republic is now at war with a Seperatist movement."

"What sparked the conflict?"

"I don't know. Shouldn't you know?"

"I was at a party when I got called and haven't been told anything yet."

"Right, well, we haven't been told much yet either. Just that we were to meet our new General here and lead them to the meeting room."

"Let's start there. As far as you know, I am your new general."

"Correct."

"And your name is…?"

"Sergeant CT-3012, leader of Delta Squad Platoon 3A, Company-"

"I think that is enough. I am Jedi Padawan Tanya Degurechaff. It is good to meet you and your Delta Squad, Sergeant CT-3012."

"Padawan? That is like a Jedi cadet, right?"

"Yes. I am still learning. Master Labooda believes I am ready for most of the Trials, we are just waiting for medical clearance."

The conversation died away as Tanya was escorted to a meeting hall where she was greeted by a tall, gray and spindly alien. One of the native species of the planet, the Kaminoan were the primary sentient species of the planet as well as the cloners who had produced the Army. Tanya had to explain to the Kaminoan representative that, as a Padawan, she was not given purview into any decisions the High Council may have made. That, as she was still in training, she was only focused on preparing for her Trials to become a Jedi Knight.

Tanya was given a crash course in the Army and the Clones as she waited with the Kaminoan for the other Jedi to arrive. Being so much closer to Kamino than the bulk of the Order had ensured that Tanya would be the first to arrive, and had given her some time to ask questions and try to understand the situation she was about to be thrust into.

Jedi Knight Obi-wan Kenobi and his Padawan Anakin Skywalker had been captured by a rogue element that declared independence from the Republic and were set to publicly execute the two Jedi. This rapid escalation had led to Chancellor Palpatine gaining emergency powers, which he had used to institute a new Republic Army. A Grand Army of the Republic, or the GAR, as it was officially titled.

An army of cloned soldiers being led by peacekeepers with no experience running a war of any scale, let alone a galaxy-spanning civil war.

After a brief tour, Tanya was brought to a space pad to be taken to one of the warships in orbit over Kamino. More Jedi were beginning to arrive and someone had decided it would be best to shuffle the Jedi onto the ships for transport to speed up the process of launching the reinforcements.

—

A secret army commissioned by the High Council conveniently ready just in time for a war to be kicked off? Something about this stunk.

There were many aspects of the Jedi Order I disliked; their methods of recruitment and the indoctrination of children into their religion gave me a few cult vibes, the teaching and use of mind control set my nerves on edge as it represented a violation of a person's sanctity of self no matter how useful of a tool it could be, and their naivety to how the world actually works and is moved by money, not morals.

For every issue I had with the Order, none of them had shown any indications that they were planning anything like this, so violent and so massive. Master Labooda seemed to enjoy ancient history and archeology, not conflict. Master Windu was admittedly hard to read and I had not spent much time with the man, but I had a difficult time seeing him setting up something as wasteful as a war years in advance.

Indeed, nobody I knew in the Order gave me the impression of being a warmonger. Maybe they had kept that side of themselves away from padawans such as myself, but I felt like something else was happening behind the scenes. Whatever it was, though, I could not afford to focus on it right now. I needed to get my head in the game. We were about to go into combat and I did not want to die.

The ship we were going to be transported on was a Venator-Class Star Destroyer. This meant nothing to me as it was a bunch of nonsense words. The clarification that it is a Cruiser-Class of ship was far more helpful. Cruisers are heavily armed and armored multi-purpose warships that are among the largest ships of the line just behind battleships in size. The scale of these ships for galactic combat was frankly hard to wrap one's head around. The best comparison was to a town or city in terms of population between the crew and transported troops. A ship this size required internal transportation methods to quickly traverse both the verticality and the length of the ship to get to stations.

The ship was so massive that I was thankful to have Delta Squad escorting me again. The room we would be meeting in was a large room with a tactical display in the middle of the room. As the first representative of the Jedi Order on the ship, I needed to set an appropriate impression of the Order as a whole while I waited for the other Jedi to come in. Thankfully there was a very easy way to kill three birds with a single stone. I took position off to one side and set to meditating while keeping myself afloat.

Meditation allowed for my perspective of time to slip while the modest display of power and calm would give the appropriate impression of how the Jedi liked to be viewed. It also allowed me to calm my nerves and organize my thoughts for the coming fight. I prided myself on my ability to think rationally and come to reasonable solutions to problems without letting my emotions get the best of me. I was not too proud to admit I was scared, as any reasonable person would be in going into an active battlefield, but that was no excuse for letting that fear control you.

So I sat in the air, clones passing through the room and slowly being joined by other Jedi who joined me in meditating until we were all gathered together.

—

Master Jedi Tiplar, a yellow skinned Mikkian with a blue tattoo on her forehead, entered the meeting room along with her sister, Tiplee. Tiplee had shorter tendrils in her head with a matching blue tattoo on her forehead, a matching mark from a shared moment of youthful rebelliousness, and red skin. The pair noticed a small blonde with a Padawan braid mediating in mid air against a wall. An impressive feat for a learner.

"That is Labooda's Padawan?" Tiplee asked her sister.

"I believe so. Looks like she has done a good job training her Padawan."

The twins moved to a separate wall and watched the other Jedi arrive in the meeting room along with clone troopers passing by or through the room until Grandmaster Yoda arrived.

"Much to discuss, we have," Grandmaster Yoda began, taking a central position in the room. Tiplar joined the Jedi in forming a loose circle around the display in the middle of the room. To have the Grandmaster arrive with two other Council Members showed how serious this was. Tiplar was a little excited she might get a chance to see Master Yoda in action, as he had been a mentor for everyone in the Order for hundreds of years while rarely going on missions himself.

"Yes," Master Adi Gallia said. "As you all may have heard by now, the Republic is at war with a collection of planets calling themselves the Confederation of Independent Systems. They have captured two of our own and are threatening to kill them as part of their opening salvo. In addition, we have strong reasons to believe that all the leaders of this separatist movement are concentrated on Geonosis. Master Windu will lead a strike force to rescue the captured Jedi. We will help with the cleanup and ensure the capture of the separatist leadership to bring this war to a swift end."

A snort was heard and all heads turned towards one of the shorter Jedi in the room. The Padawan that had arrived first.

"Thoughts to share, you have?" Grand Master Yoda asked with a grin. "Listen to them, we will."

The Padawan bowed, her concern clear on both her face and in the Force. "My apologies, Master Yoda. It is just that I find the thought that we could end a civil war so quickly to be foolish."

"And what makes you think you know so much?" Master Pong Krell asked from his position off to the side, where the large Jedi stood with his four arms crossed.

"Military history, she reads," Master Yoda said with a grin. "Study this, she has."

Master Yoda knew the specific reading interests of a singular Padawan? Was that the reason she had been invited into the mission? Tiplar would have thought it was because Sar Labooda was here and her Padawan was with her. Looking around, Tiplar noticed Labooda was not in the room at all.

"Thank you, Master Yoda," the Padawan said before turning to Pong Krell. "As Master Yoda said, I have a bit of a hobby of reading historical documents about various military engagements. One thing that is easy to find occurring repeatedly is the hubris of generals early on in engagements predicting quick easy victories. A campaign here and be home by Life Day. A small war there, be victorious in six months. Put down a rebellion there in a week or two tops. And every time, they are proven wrong as the war ends up dragging on for years. To think we could, after a thousand years of relative peace, be able to contain and end a war in a single strike is idealistically optimistic at best."

The Padawan was confident in her assessment of historical fact and seemed assured that the pattern would continue.

"And how long would you say this war would go on for?" Master Oppo Rancisis of the High Council asked while stroking his large and wild white beard with his taloned fingers.

"People do not remember how bad war can be. They do not remember the lives that will be lost. That combined with this being a civil war with individuals who likely feel this is the only recourse they have left to address their grievances, I would say five years is optimistic. Ten to fifteen is what I would be preparing for and planning around."

Tiplar felt the wave of shock pass through the Jedi at the pronouncement from the calm Padawan giving this saddening news in such a blunt manner. Curiously, the clones did not feel shocked, but seemed to have an air of agreement wafting off of them.

Master Yoda's ears were down and he gave a soft nod as he acknowledged the point. "True your words are, I fear. Other thoughts, you have?"

"I know it is too last minute for us to get armor for the coming battle, but it might be a good idea for us to get a few practice shots with blasters now so we are not fumbling around with them on the battlefield."

Pong Krell snorted. "You want us to give up our lightsabers for some blasters? Give up tradition?"

Krell was right. The traditional weapon of the Jedi was the lightsaber. It has been used since antiquity. So long have the Jedi used the lightsabers that it was hard to say whether the Jedi picked up the lightsaber before or after the Order was founded.

The Padawan felt annoyed and took a deep breath before turning to the Grandmaster. "Master Yoda, permission to speak freely?"

Yoda's ears perked up and a smile that looked far too mischievous came to his face. "Speak freely, you may."

Tiplar knew that look. She knew that look and felt a shudder of fear go down her spine. Grandmaster Yoda was a great Jedi, no doubt about that. Wise, powerful, and a leader that was able to show the Order how to be the best they could be.

Grandmaster Yoda was also someone you had to be careful around as his methods could prove embarrassing. Tiplar could easily imagine a young Yoda having been a prankster, a little trickster that raised all kinds of trouble for the Order before his wisdom mellowed him out. Him giving that look and permission to speak freely meant someone was about to have a very bad day, and a Tiplar had a sinking feeling it was not going to be the Padawan.

Instead of addressing Krell, the Padawan turned to one of the clones that was standing in the room. "Soldier. What is the effective range of the blaster you have strapped to your back?"

Tiplar tried to figure out the relevance of the question. What did blaster range have to do with not using the lightsabers?

"Effective out to three hundred meters, sir. Optimal range is within one hundred. Capable out to even greater distances with rapid losses in effectiveness."

The Padawan turned back to Pong Krell and put on a falsely sweet voice. "And what is the range of your lightsaber? Because my range is about to the tip of my blade. Oh, about a meter, meter and a half maybe. I haven't measured lately, but it certainly seems a bit on the short side."

Tiplar still wasn't seeing the point. The Jedi have been using lightsabers in combat against blasters for millennia.

"What does that have to do with tossing our tradition away?"

The Padawan ignored Master Krell's question and turned to the clone trooper again. "How quickly can you switch targets after taking one down?"

The clone held up his hands as though miming shooting different Jedi. His aim passed over Tiplar and arrived at Tiplee where he paused briefly and mimed taking a shot before moving on. "Half a sec, I believe."

"And what about you getting into range, Master? How quickly can you run three hundred meters to get in close enough to hit something over the head with your lightsaber? For me I could probably do it in about a minute if I was focused only on running. Which if we say it takes someone with a blaster a full second to aim and shoot at an enemy, would be about sixty enemy combatants we could have shot in the time it takes to get in close enough to smack them over the head."

Pong Krell folded his arms and glared at Tanya.

The Padawan took on a pose of her hip cocked to the side and head tilted, like a curious young civilian girl, finger tapping her chin and a mocking smile on her lips. "Oh my, I seem to have ignored your question. Well, if this ship was to have engine issues, would you try to fix it with your lightsaber due to it being the traditional tool of the Jedi? Or would you get a spanner or something designed specifically to help fix the engine?"

Tiplar could see where this was going now, and it was a good point, but the Padawn didn't leave the point hanging.

She stood up and dropped the act, putting on a more serious demeanor with a frightening ease. The ability to change the way she talked and acted could prove useful in infiltration missions, even with the way she wore her emotions on her sleeve, broadcasting them out into the Force and on her face. "The lightsaber is a tool. A badge of our status as Jedi and an effective weapon in close combat. It can be used for many things, but it can't do everything. And in some situations another tool would be more effective. If we are going to be going into a warzone, I would feel a lot better with a blaster in my hands and my body behind cover rather than running recklessly towards the enemy positions in order to maybe hit something with my lightsaber. I am not asking you to give up your lightsaber, but I am suggesting we all would do well to take a blaster with us."

Tiplar reached to where her own lightsaber hung at her hip and thought about what the Padawan had to say. She had relied on it so often in so many situations, but had she become too reliant on it? Of course a Padawan would be the one to not be as closely tied to how many uses the lightsaber has and see the value in other objects with similar purposes.

"Hmm, point made," Master Yoda said.

"Yes. A point very well made," Master Rancisis agreed. "I believe it would be best if we all had the appropriate tools." He looked to one of the clones. "Would you kindly arrange for some blasters to be set aside for us Jedi?"

"Sir!" The clone saluted and left the room, followed by two other clones.

"I don't like this," Master Pong Krell said, grumpy over the Padawan's voice being taken so seriously.

"Liking something is not important," Tiplar said, feeling the comforting presence of her sister next to her. "The Padawan is correct that having blasters on us would be beneficial. The right tool for the job."

The Jedi in the room were not happy with the idea of having to use such uncivilized and cruel weapons, but a majority of them were accepting of it.

"Tell me, Padawan Degurechaff, are there any other insightful observations you would like to share?" Master Rancisis asked, adjusting himself on his snake-like tail to better look at the Padawan.

Padawan Degurechaff looked uncertain as she looked around the room before pausing as she looked at one of the clones. "Perhaps we should ask the clones if they have anything they wish to share? Any thoughts or observations they may have."

"What could a clone tell us?" Pong Krell asked, being very dismissive of the idea.

"They have been trained for this. They have been taught specifically how to fight and strategize for the coming battle. I can give you some historical examples, but I do not know where to begin in figuring out what is important for a battle. They would."

Krell huffed, but did not deny Padawan Degurechaff's assertions.

"A good observation," Master Rancisis observed before motioning to all the clones. "Please, if any of you clones have anything to say, please step forwards."

One of the clones with a large shoulder and yellow markings on his armor stepped forwards. "Sir!" After being acknowledged, the clone activated the tactical display. "I believe it would be good to go over the planet we will be fighting on and the likely areas the fighting will be taking place."

The meeting continued with what was known about Geonosis being gone over thoroughly. The clone would explain aspects of the planet and questions would be asked. Tiplar felt she learned a lot about how to plan a battle during the meeting and left knowing that there was a lot to learn from these clones she was about to lead.

—

The rifle I was handed felt very large in my hands. Despite my interest in military history in both this and my last life, I never held a real gun in my hands. I had done a bit of airsoft for fun, but from what the guys from the JSDF said, real guns were significantly heavier than what I was used to using. I couldn't say how the blaster rifle I held compared to the firearms in my last life, but it was significantly heavier than the airsoft guns.

With some Jedi help, the clones set up both a firing range and a small obstacle course for us to practice with blasters in one of the hangers. There were four triggers, switches, or knobs on the blaster as standard. An on/off switch, a safety switch that kept the trigger from being able to be pulled, the trigger that actually fired the shots, and a regulator that adjusted the power of the shots. Testing the rifle, I found the kick of the plasma bolts screaming out of the blaster to be very manageable, hardly any worse than I remember the airsoft guns being. Going through the obstacle course, I found the Force gave useful nudges for my aim, instinctively adjusting my shots to better hit the targets setup around the course.

Indeed the worst shots among the Jedi were just off the bullseyes of the targets while the clones had shots on target, but more spread across the surface of the targets. The difference was incredibly clear between having the ability to access the Force and not.

"Arriving in the Geonosian System in ten minutes," a voice said over the intercom system. A flurry of movement began as the obstacle course was broken down, the crates moved back into place and strapped down quickly with the help of the Force before everyone moved into position.

"General Degurechaff! Over here." I heard a clone calling me. Hurrying I got into the transport ship with my blaster over my shoulder. The side doors closed and I was left alone in a dimly lit ship with the blank faces of the troopers.

"Alright men, I hope you are ready," I said as I felt the ship come out of hyperspace. "Because things are about to get very bumpy."

 

[Half_Baked_cat]

My nerves were stretched tighter than the strings of a guitar as I stood in silence among trained soldiers heading into an active combat zone. It won't be my first taste of combat, but fighting a bunch of animals was going to be very different from combat with intelligent and entrenched enemy forces.

I was fiddling with the blaster in my hands. I needed something to take my mind off my concerns and turned to one of the clones. "Do you like having a number for a name?" Was the first thing that came tumbling out of my mouth. Internally I cringed as it was such a stupid question.

"General?"

"It's just, I know that there are cultures that do similar things and many people don't really give their name much thought, but I was just wondering if you actually liked it. I'm so sorry if this question seems stupid to you, but please answer me if you can."

"I had not given it too much thought, General Degurechaff, but I think I would like a real name."

The other clones began voicing their agreements in liking the idea of having names.

"Ok, we got a bit before landfall," I said, happy for the distraction. With a hand placed on the first clone's arm, I gave a suggestion. "How about Revan for you? They were a Jedi in the distant past who was instrumental in ending one of the Great Sith Wars."

The clone puffed up his chest. "Thank you sir!" I could hear the pride in his voice.

I stepped over to my second in command on the ship and held out my hand for him to shake. "Oda was a visionary, a Warlord of a fractured nation that stitched the nation together into a unified front."

"I will wear the name with pride," Oda said, grasping my hand firmly.

I ducked into the cockpit and placed a hand on the pilot's shoulder. "The Red Baron was a legendary pilot from the earliest recorded days of flight, using a bright red fighter to invite enemies to dare and fight him. I'm counting on you, Baron, to land us safely."

"I won't let you down," Baron said, adjusting his grip.

From where I stood at the front of the ship, looking at my men, the clones who were going to be following me into battle and do whatever I told them, I could see those without names leaning forwards slightly in anticipation for their own names,

"I won't be able to name you all, so you'll have to help each other and those on the other transports with getting names, but I will try to give as many names as I can."

With that, animated discussions broke out as wild suggestions were made, questions were asked of me for possible name sources and I racked my brain for relevant military figures I've read about in both of my lives.

All too quickly though, we hit the atmosphere and all of our attentions were diverted to watching through the windows as Baron nimbly maneuvered the craft closer to the landing sight.

My forces were part of the first wave heading to site Sigma Three where an entrance to the underground hive was believed to be located. As we had adjusted the plans from an attempted decapitation strike into something beneficial in the long term, gaining control of the droid factories and cutting off supply lines to the front was a high priority. I would be leading an offensive to gain a foothold underground and establish our own supply lines with a buffer zone to launch further assaults from.

The surface of the planet was primarily wasteland and served no real tactical or strategic value in holding as all of Geonosis' population and manufacturing sectors were underground in complicated and interconnecting tunnel systems. The best comparison I had to such a situation was urban combat, but there were few accounts I've personally read on the subject and most mentions I've read made it clear that urban combat was horrible for not well explained reasons.

With our transport ship touching down and the hatches opening, we scrambled off and grabbed equipment to begin setting up a perimeter to the temporary surface command center.

"I want trenches dug along that line and on either side of that cave entrance," I ordered, directing the clones. I did not know if this was going to be the best approach, but if we were planning on an extended campaign with static command centers, it made sense to me to set up static defenses. Trenches were possibly a bit out of date as far as defensive measures were concerned with a mobile enemy, but they would at least give any guards cover from incoming fire.

"Larry! Set up those monitors over there. We want fewer lines of sight on the technicians using them."

"Sir!"

About half the clones were working on setting up the tents, equipment, and supply station while the other half were guarding the parameters to both the wide open desert that covered most of the planet and to the cave network. There were a couple of squads dispatched to scout out the rocky outcropping we landed near to check for other entrances underground and any noticeable features to keep an eye out for.

It was while I was setting up a radio tower that several more transporters arrived, this time carrying Masters Tiplar and Tiplee. I was not too familiar with them personally, but was aware of them and their reported expertise within the Force. Getting the tower in position, I let the clones take over getting the cables hooked up and everything hooked into place as I went to the Jedi Masters.

"Hello Masters," I said as I approached before bowing to the pair. "My apologies if I am a bit curt, but I wish to get straight to the point. We have begun setting up the local Command Post. There have been no hostiles here yet, but we suspect that will change quickly once we begin establishing a foothold below ground."

Master Tiplar gave me a smile while her fellow Mikkian looked around. "It would appear you have done an excellent job."

Master Tiplee nodded in agreement. "We will take over up here while you go underground to establish that foothold as you called it."

I bowed at the instructions. "Before I head out, why is Master Labooda not here?"

The two Masters looked at each other for a moment with a look crossing their faces. "That is a discussion for later," Master Tiplee said. "For now, padawan, establish that foothold."

I bowed one more time and took the blaster off my back where it had been sitting as we were setting up the outpost and settled it into one hand. I marched over to where Oda stood nearby.

"Ready?" I asked, my nerves returning as I thought about what we may face in the darkness below the surface.

"Yes sir," Oda said with a nod before motioning to the other clones who gathered up around me.

With a swallow, I looked at the blank helmets of the men around me before nodding. "Right. Our goal is to establish a beachhead below ground. So I don't want any of you trying to route the enemy. We go in, get a foothold, and steadily push out. Do not push our supply lines, got it?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The troops said in unison while saluting me.

I was shocked at the sudden change in temperature just a few steps into the cave system. The surface had been hot, but not unbearably so, but the coolness of the shaded cave caused goosebumps to form and shiver to travel through me. A few steps further, I pulled out my lightsaber and ignited it to allow the purple glow to light our way.

Deep shadows in the rocks outlined in purple greeted us as we made our way in. As the only one able to actively deflect incoming blaster fire, I was at the front of the squad and staying close to the wall. The nice, sturdy rock wall of the tunnels that would not have enemies coming from that direction so I could focus my attention on the shadows. The deep, dark shadows that could be hiding anything.

—

Obi-Wan's mind was racing as he rushed to the transport ship with the clones that had been assigned to him. Grand Master Yoda had arrived to pull him and Anakin out of the arena they had been put into after their capture while investigating who was behind the assassination attempt on Senator Amidalla. Now he was holding a blaster rifle against his objections and being flown towards the frontlines.

"Master, is it really ok for the Jedi to be using blasters?" Anakin asked as he looked over the blaster in his own hands.

Obi-Wan signed. "We will have to discuss that later." 'After I talk with Master Yoda,' He thought to himself, concern and his own confusion whirring away in his mind.

Arriving at the designated landing zone, the two Jedi and their complement of clone troopers jumped down and took a look across the field to where Separatist Ships were attempting to take off while under fire and an army of droids accompanied by droid tanks were approaching in organized files. Trenches were being dug by Clone Troopers along the edges of the landing zone as other troopers set up in the trenches, bracing their guns along the hastily dug walls.

"Generals," a trooper said, snapping off a salute at the two Jedi after coming from a partially buried tent. "The command outpost is this way."

With nothing better to do, the Jedi followed the trooper into the tent where a pair of clones with large shoulder pauldrons and their helmets on the table they stood around quickly gave the entering Jedi salutes.

"Welcome Generals," the one with a yellow pauldron said before indicating the map on the table. "We were just discussing plans to push back the initial wave of resistance."

"What is going on?" Obi-Wan asked, going close to the map along with Anakin.

"You were at the Arena, correct?" The Clone asked, getting a nod in response. "We are at war sir and the plans for this opening battle is to establish footholds over this planet and capture the local droid factories to deprive the enemy of resources."

"What about Dooku? He is getting away," Anakin asked, leaning in.

"That has been discussed already. The chances of capturing him and the other separatist leaders was deemed to have a low probability of ending the war while costing far more in manpower and resources than simply depriving the enemy of this planet."

Kenobi gritted his teeth before nodding. He didn't like the idea of just letting Dooku get away, but he also was lacking a lot of information to make a better decision.

Anakin slammed his hands on the table. "So we're just letting them get away?"

"Anakin," Kenobi started to say, before being interrupted by a Clone Trooper.

"We have resources in place to attempt to shoot down any ship attempting to escape our blockade of the planet, but there is a high likelihood that a few of the leaders on this planet may escape."

Obi-Wan rose to interject, for maybe a Jedi could help with that matter, but was cut off again by a clone, a different one this time, "Sir, we have been informed that few among the Jedi have experience or knowledge of large scale conflicts and have been given freedom to advise any Jedi in such matters. The current projections of how this war will play out based upon the current galactopolitical situation indicates that on a purely tactical level, this is a war of attrition."

Anakin opened his mouth to ask a question, but before he could get his chance, another trooper spoke up, "Both sides will be throwing their resources against the other for years and the first to run out will be the one to lose. On a strategic level, this is a Public Relations War. We need our generals to do everything they can to win as much of the public, especially the public of enemy planets, to our side. If we have to enact rationing due to wasted resources, the public may think we are starting to lose and turn against us."

Anakin frowned as he looked at the map, his hands balling up into fists as he took a moment to focus. "Where do you need me?"

—-

"Left!" I yelled as I slammed my lightsaber onto the rifle and used the force to weld it into place, the dual wielding proving awkward after a brief exchange with Geonosians my troops and I stumbled upon.

Larry, named after the main character of the first Star Wars movie, was dead. His corpse left behind as we retreated down a separate path. As far as I knew, the first casualty of the war.

I was using the instincts the Force provided me to direct which way we were going. I had no better ideas and the tug was the only thing I had to go off of. Without thought, I spun the rifle in my grip and deflected one of the blaster bolts coming at us before quickly firing off a pair of bolts to join the reflected bolt, all three finding homes in the bug men we were fighting. As the only one capable of putting up a defense, I was acting as the rearguard as we moved through the tunnels with enemy forces giving chase.

"Down!" I didn't know why I yelled that until after firing off another group of shots I turned and saw the Clone Troopers dripping down a hole in the ground. Turning around, I deflected the enemy fire as best as I could. The thought of asking for more power crossed my mind. If I asked, I could avoid another Larry. I could deflect all the enemy fire and take them out.

All it would take is losing control of myself.

No! We were not that desperate yet.

I was the last to get down the hole, using the Force to adjust my fall to join the troops in circling the landing under the hole and soften my landing significantly.

We rained fire upon the enemy as they attempted to fly down the hole and overwhelm us.

It took minutes? Seconds? Hours? For the flow of enemies to stop and a moment to gather our breath as the adrenaline began to wane.

"Status report: call out if you are still alive," Oda called out after a moment.

Looking around as the troopers verified who was alive, I saw only Larry was dead and that our run through the tunnels had gotten dirt and scratches on what had been pristine armor not long ago. The shine of their armor in the purple light of my lightsaber's glow had died down.

"Just Larry," I said as a hush came to us for a moment. Looking around, I saw several directions we could go. "This way." I pointed down one of the tunnels.

"Sir, if I may, why that path?" Oda asked, not questioning the actual decision, but simply wanting to know the reason for my decision.

"We need to keep moving and the Force is nudging me to go that way." Looking around at the men with me, I laid it out rather simply for them. "I don't know what we'll find going this way, I don't know what we will have to face, and I don't know if trusting my instincts with the Force is the best idea, but it is either we keep going, hoping the Force doesn't lead us astray, or we attempt to find our way back."

Oda nodded before turning to the other clones. "You heard her men, be prepared for anything. Things are about to get interesting."

I was terrified as I began to lead the way forwards, taking care to keep my eyes moving to take in as much of the tunnels we were traveling through as possible. I wanted to go back to the outpost. I wanted to not have to fight. I may have been an adult man in my last life, but I am not too proud to admit that despite my interest in military history and various war games, both first person shooters and strategy, I would not have done well in the military. I would have done everything I could to avoid combat, especially in a modern military where they don't go about executing soldiers for cowardice.

I likely wouldn't get court-martialed for cowardice if I did run away, but the troopers under me likely would not be so lucky. I was responsible for them and abandoning them would either result in them dying in battle without me there to help deflect bolts or them being court-martialed and executed in my place if they did follow me, if they were even lucky enough to get a trial.

As we moved through the tunnels, we came across a few lone droids or Geonosian guards that we were thankfully able to take out before they could call for backup. Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern filled with machinery building droids on industrial assembly lines, buckets of molten metal moving through the factory on thick cables.

"So, that is what it is," I said softly.

"Sir?" Oda questioned, breaking me out of my reverie.

Turning to the men, dirtier and more scuffed, but thankfully still all alive, I gave a soft smile. "We need to find the command center and take control of this droid factory. Once command is taken over, contact headquarters and inform them. If you can, get the droids to be on our side, otherwise, just shut the manufacturing down. As an absolute last resort, destroy the factory and retreat. If we can, we want to turn the enemy resources to our side, but denying them resources is the priority."

"'Sir!'" The clones acknowledged my orders with salutes.

"Oda, you will lead one group. Revan, the second group. I will lead the third. We will split up to cover more ground. Stay safe, please."

Oda and Revan nodded with salutes before breaking off with clones following them. I briefly looked at the four that were with me and nodded. "This way. Stick close."

We moved our way through the factory, realizing that despite all the droids being produced, the building was empty of actual workers or guards. It was an entirely automated factory with no safety precautions to be seen for anyone that did need to come to the factory. No guardrails to prevent falls, no covers on the machines to prevent loose clothing or body parts getting caught up in the gears or other mechanical parts of the factory machines, and nothing blocking sight of the powerful lasers being used to cut out parts from large slabs of metal.

I would need to remember to suggest adding such safety precautions and guards to the factory to prevent the exact thing we were currently doing from happening to us. Indeed, I voiced my thoughts to the men currently with me and ordered them to keep their eyes peeled for any other suggestions once we had full control over the factory.

"Keep a lookout, I'm going to get a better look around," I tell the clones with me before floating up to get a high up lay of the factory. The factory was massive with multiple layers of belts traveling throughout in a dizzying fashion, the loud crashing of the machines working drowning out any other noise. I could only hope once we found the control center for the factory that there would be accompanied diagrams for our forces to make use of.

Landing back with the troopers I had, I looked around again to regain my bearings on the ground.

"Which way?" Canderous asked.

I shook my head. "Don't know. The Force brought us here to the factory, but it is currently silent."

"Should we stick to the walls then?" Satele suggested.

Nodding my head, we moved towards the wall. "Where would they put the command center?" I asked as we moved.

"Up? That way they can easily look out over the factory," Satele said after a moment.

Looking up at the underside of the belts and tracks, I gave it a moment of thought. "Best place to start," I said with a shrug as we moved along the wall trying to find a way up.

It was several minutes before I stopped and slapped my forehead.

"General?"

"If you could fly, where would you put the stairs?" I asked.

It took a moment before it clicked for the troopers before I heard them groan together.

"We don't have jet packs," one complained.

"Get in contact with the other squads, let them know I am heading up on my own and you will be rendezvousing with them. Do a sweep of the area and attempt to establish communications with the command post."

"'Sir!'" The troopers saluted me and began following my orders without complaint. I bit my lip hoping these were the right orders to give, but was assured by them not complaining, especially as I had already established with them they were to freely offer advice whenever they felt it necessary.

Not letting the doubt get to me, I began flying up again, looking for something on the ceiling. Breaking past the highest conveyor belts, I was greeted by an alarm going off and the sight of several Geonosians beginning to fly out of what I had to assume was the control room.

"Shit!"

I had been spotted and was being fired upon. I quickly dodged to the side and leveled my blaster at the enemy while attempting to create an illusion of myself. Three had come out to greet me and I could see a fourth attempting to join them. I fired a shot at the last one while backing off. I had to deal with the Geonosians harrying me before I could get into the room. I grit my teeth and roll out of the way of the incoming fire before diving under a belt carrying some sort of droid parts, my illusion copying my movements.

Out of sight for a moment, no time to think, I flew close to the belt before splitting off from my illusion, both of us taking opposite sides of the belt to resurface, turning around to see the native bug people on the hunt for me. I crush the trigger of the blaster, firing off shots, letting the Force guide my aim. I barely confirmed that I had downed the bug before flying off to the side, out of the way of the returning fire.

I weave through the incoming fire as I move even further away from the control room. Scanning I spot large crucibles and dive down to hide behind one, pressing myself against the far side of it. I take a moment to catch my breath as I follow along with the crucible until it stops at some sort of filling station. I fly up to behind the flow of liquid, feeling the heat of the red hot liquid metal radiating off the flow. I shove my hand forwards and blast the flow at where I had last seen the bug. I got a glimpse of the bug that had followed me along with the one that had followed my illusion flying back. In the brief moment the flow was out of the way I sniped out the one farther away before racing towards the closer one, slamming my lightsaber into its chest.

The chittering gurgle falls away along with the body after I turn off my lightsaber.

Looking around, I am alone. My heart is pounding. I grit my teeth to hold in the scream I want to yell and fly back towards the control room. I lightly landed next to the body of the Geonosian that never made it out of the room, its head was gone. There was still one here, chittering on about something. Slowly I lift my blaster and take aim before softly pulling on the trigger. I drop my arms, barely keeping hold of the blaster. Slowly I moved towards where the last geonsian's body still sat and pushed it out of the way.

I look out the window and can't see past my own reflection. Pupils dilated, hair an utter mess, my robes were dirty and there were tears in it as the material was not meant for such rough treatment as an active battle in a warzone. It was meant for the roughness of diplomacy and maybe the dance floor.

I was shaken out of my daze as my comms went off.

"I have taken command of the control room," I reported, missing what my troopers said while shaking myself into focusing on my task of turning off the factory until we could get our own technicians in here to make any needed adjustments.

 

[Half_Baked_cat]

The opening battles of the war were a rousing success by nearly any metric. Geonosis was captured, their factories were being retrofitted to produce war materials for the GAR, and the casualties were… acceptable. A few squads were lost, but every organization level above the squad level was left at combat strength to one degree or another.

Reorganizing the Jedi into a proper hierarchy came next with new ranks appropriate to the individual Jedi's abilities. Each member of the High Council was given the rank of High General and were given broad latitude in how they would give commands. Next was the Supreme Generals, given to the Jedi Knights, Masters, or Padawans shown to have a strong affinity for both leadership and military strategy and tactics. I suspect they created this rank specifically for me because they could not justify putting a Padawan on the High Council to help advise with the war effort. Thankfully for the first month I was so busy organizing the war effort at the Temple and creating a study list of relevant materials for the newly conscripted military officers that I was able to distract myself from the loss of Master Labooda.

Master Labooda had been among the first group of Jedi to arrive on scene for the rescue mission in an arrogant attempt at intimidating the Separatist Leaders into surrendering. During my long hours meditating, I had been able to reflect back upon my death and the irrationality of my murderer. In the face of emotions, logic and reason could be thrown out of the window and the Separatists are an emotional movement. They may have logical reasons for being upset with the Republic, but going to War was always going to be a highly emotional event where intimidation tactics would only result in the digging in of their heels to fight back harder.

"General Degurechaff. Report from Commander Oda," the synthetic voice of one of the first JB-1 droids said. Modified from the B-1 battle droids with kill-switches and independent thought circuits that limited their combat effectiveness to a degree, along with an identifying paint job, the JB-1's were being produced to increase the GAR's battlefield presence and help with low level administrative work, including delivering low priority messages.

Taking the datapad from the droid, I looked over the report and was satisfied to see that the droid foundry I had helped capture on Geonosis was at 90% capacity and fully converted to making the JB-1's and the other foundries were either rapidly being repaired as resources opened up or were nearly fully converted as well. Pockets of resistance were still popping up around Geonosis, but the locals were mostly being successfully occupied and there were even a few negotiations being attempted, though negotiators were not optimistic at the current time of a deal being reached and occupation in force would need to continue to keep the planet subdued.

"Was there anything else?" I asked the droid as I finished looking over the report.

"Meeting scheduled with the Jedi High Council in thirty four point six minutes."

"Right," I sighed. One of the things that has been weighing on my mind for the past month in addition to Master Labooda's death was that I was still a Padawan. Most of the time when a Padawan loses their Master, they would either find another Master to apprentice under or be shuffled off to one of the corps, often the Agricorp. I had been left in limbo for a month as the war effort took everyone's focus away from Jedi matters and now there was enough time to address my current state.

With a shake of my head, I clear my thoughts as I slip a robe over my armor. A custom made set, tailored to fit my body while matching many of the same functions and general look of the Clone Trooper armor. The logic had been simple, especially after the lack of protection a few layers of cloth was pointed out. The armor is designed to protect against environmental hazards more than incoming fire and any incidental protection from enemy blaster fire would be less focus on the Force we would need to use that could instead be used to keep as many of our men alive as possible.

Clones were a limited resource as they took years to produce more of and even a new clone, or the shinies as I had heard some of the veterans of the Battle of Geonosis call them, were at a higher level of military knowledge and combat effectiveness than even some non-clone officers from various planetary defense forces. As such, current doctrine was to preserve as much of our own manpower as possible. Even with the captured droid foundries, we were at a numerical disadvantage on the battlefield and behind in production of war materials. That we even had anything at all to hold off the Separatists could be considered a miracle if the situation didn't stink of conspiracy to high heaven.

Investigating that matter would, unfortunately, have to wait and likely be done by someone else. For now, I had a meeting to attend to. My footsteps were soft as I traveled through the Jedi Temple, my boots being designed to limit noise per my request. There was an argument to be made that I should not need to wear the armor in the Temple, to which my retort if anyone was to bring that up is I needed to get used to wearing the armor should I be sent to a battlefield.

We were Generals of various flavors, or Commanders in the case of Padawans or Knights not given a General rank for one reason or another, but were still expected to hop onto the front lines often. I had argued against such a measure as in most historical military operations the generals were in the back directing forces and overseeing the big picture of what objectives were most important to achieve. The High Council had agreed with the Chancellor's overrule of me by pointing out that the Jedi were not just some regular general, but capable fighters in their own right, able to achieve objectives regular soldiers would find impossible on their own.

I was soon joined in waiting for my meeting by Anakin and Obi-Wan. My mind whirred at a few possibilities of what this could mean. The two had spent a lot of time actively fighting along some of the more contentious areas of the frontlines for the past month, with Anakin sporting a new scar over one eye he didn't want to discuss.

Nearly every possibility I could imagine involved Anakin getting promoted to Knighthood, which would result in Obi-Wan becoming a Master of the Order. From there, I might be put under the newly established Master Kenobi for the remainder of my Padawanship, or I might be looking at a promotion myself at the Council's discretion. There was also a possibility Master Windu would take me on as a Padawan seeing as he had already taught me his personal lightsaber form and was in a position of both needing to lead the Jedi Order during a war while learning how to handle a war in a leadership capacity and I was currently the most knowledgeable member of the Order on the theatricals of warfare, even if there were a good number of members of the order who have fought in planetary conflicts in the past.

After a few moments of waiting in silence, the doors were opened and we were beckoned in. Not every Council Member was physically present, some only there as holograms. And one seat was conspicuously empty, its former owner having recently been confirmed dead after fighting against one of the Separatist Generals, a cybernetic being known as Grievous. Currently, not much was known about General Grievous other than that he was a dangerous individual and a very capable, if ruthless, leader.

"What we are to do with you two, we need to discuss," Master Yoda started the meeting off by getting to the point. I bowed to him and the High Council in general, having expected this.

"Indeed," Master Windu said as he leaned forwards in his seat. "You both have shown skill and courage far beyond even many Knights. Padawan Tanya, your insights have proven invaluable to the order so far and you have mastered the ability to see through illusions to such a degree that you can weave them yourself. It is unfortunate that you have lost your Master at such a young age, but the pain of loss of a mentor can be as painful as any wound. Padawan Anakin, we can see the scars of the flesh on your face. You could do with taking more time before leaping, but you have never leapt due to false appearances. Your ability to sense a person's intentions has done you well and given you great insight into those around you. As far as the Council is concerned, you are both ready for the final Trial to become Jedi Knights. The Trial of Spirit."

As Master Windu said that, he stood up and the circle design in the middle of the room began to open up, revealing a staircase. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked to see Obi-Wan had his hand on both Anakin and my shoulders. "I believe in you both," He said softly before nudging us to follow Master Windu down the stairs.

The trip was long, silent, and steadily got colder. I kept my breath steady to stay focused on the task at hand and stave off any nerves. I had heard rumors that this was the most challenging Trial, but nothing concrete about what was involved. The requirements about the other trials were well known, even if the tests could be a bit difficult to get. The Trial of Flesh, as Master Windu alluded to, could be completed either through loss of a Master or through physical scarring or loss of limb. Master Labooda was dead and thinking of her presence being gone hurt. We spent years together and while in theory she was my teacher, my senpai, our relationship always felt a little more familiar than that.

We would spend many hours just talking. Even when I didn't want to, she would gently say 'Talk to me' with an inviting smile that would practically force me into unloading whatever was weighing on my mind at the time. I was an only child in my last life, but living with Master Labooda and training under her is what I would have imagined having an older sister might have been. She was gone and I don't know how to handle that other than just working hard so that everything she tried teaching me didn't go to waste.

The Trial of Courage had various tests that were kept unknown, but the basis was that any dangerous situation could be used as a substitute for the Trial based upon the Padawan's actions and the danger of the situation. Anakin had been in far more dangerous situations compared to myself, but the High Council clearly believed the dangers I had faced were satisfactory for not needing to go through a specific Trial of Courage.

The Trial of Skill was the one test that was probably the most well known as the standard test was a gauntlet of an obstacle course designed to test endurance, physical skill, mental skill, skill in using the Force, lightsaber skill, and self-discipline. Watching Padawans go through the Trial of Skill was something Initiates would get to do during some of the free-time they received if a Padawan happened to be going through the course. The courses regularly were changed up so that it was not predictable, but they were always long, grueling affairs kept safe by the watchful eyes of the proctors of the Trial.

The Trial of Insight was what I liked to think of as the Trial of Common Sense. How to avoid being the target of a pickpocket or other common thug on the street. Master Windu made a wonderful display of my knowledge when it came to my activities as a Padawan, but in the end, this test was made because too many Knights got their wallets or lightsabers nicked while on missions and the Order decided some common sense needed to be slapped into the Knights and Padawans to stop such an obvious issue.

The Trial of Spirit I knew nothing about. It was not spoken of at all.

By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, I was thankful for the armor as the temperature had seemingly dropped quite a few degrees just from going down stairs. Anakin's hands were fisted from his nerves and I could see the cold causing goosebumps to forth on his arms.

The chamber we stopped at was made of stone with several doorways carved into the rock. We were underground. Something that was hard to imagine as Corescant was a planet city. A city so massive it covered the entire planet and had layers of city built upon other city layers. The planet had been so thoroughly converted into a single, massive city that I had been half convinced that there was no actual ground left, that it had been dug out to make room for even more infrastructure and lower level city layers all the way to the core. Clearly there was still something from the original planet left, even if it was not much and had a temple complex built over and into it.

Master Windu opened a pair of doors that lead to stairs going further down into the rock, the steps made from carved stone. "Head down and face your mirror. I will wait here."

I looked at Anakin for a moment. He was looking a little pale and I could see the chill was starting to affect him, but I nodded to him and stepped through one of the doorways as he went through the other. The air felt even colder, almost cloying and heavy. I grabbed my lightsaber and ignited it to shed some light in the dark, tight staircase that spiraled down a few flights before opening up into a cavern. Holding up my lightsaber, I saw I was in a large cavern with only one entrance into it.

SKSHHhhh…

Turning I saw my only exit close shut, leaving me alone in the cavern with no way out.

Alone in the silence, I carefully look around to see bare walls.

No, not silent. A noise was rising.

Voices singing in concert. It was coming in from every direction.

"Be҉ no̶t̷ a͢fr̡a̕id!̶" The voice came to my mind unbidden as I saw eyes, wings, and a flaming wheel appear before me. "Chil͜d ̸of ̀t͜h̷è Lo͞rd́, ́g̵reȩt҉in͏gs͘!͞ Thou͡'̸s pa̶t̵h́ t́o ͞hiş gļo͏ŕy c͘an y̴e̴t ̀be ͏complet̷ed͞!̧ B̕e ̴warned f̀or͘ ̀Darkneśs҉ is͢ ͡He͢ralde̴d sh̵o͞ul҉d ̵t̡hou's̶t ̷con̶t͝ìn̸u͠e͠ t̵o ͜tur̵n̕ ͏áẃa͝y̷ f̧ro̕m His̀ blès̡s҉i͢n̶gs͜!̴"

"No!" I shouted in anger, striking the visage with my saber, it's glow having turned gold at some point, turning back to purple as the figure disappeared into black smoke.

"T͝hę L̸o͘rd'̶s gifts ̡w̷il͜l w̡ait för t̷h҉ee!"

The singing voices stopped as well, but a new sound began. Turning, the cavern was gone and I was outside on a tarmac. Boots marching and harsh voices speaking. My voice, repeated, hundreds of times in harsh tones. My boots by the hundreds, if not thousands. My face in white armor arranged in rows and columns, marching in formation. In the distance I see myself in a white officer uniform looking over the me's marching while a pink Twi'lek was looking over a data slate at my side.

A lightsaber ignites behind me and I turn around. I'm back in the cavern and there is a me in black armor stabbing the actual me in the gut with a red lightsaber. Her face is so close to mine, an angry snarl on her lips as I stare into her golden eyes. She retracts the blade of her lightsaber and I fall to the ground.

I do not know how long I lay there, but as I shakily got up, I see the cavern has returned to normal and the stairway is no longer blocked off. Slowly, I make my way up, my head abuzz with thoughts over what just happened.

Getting to the chamber Master Windu was waiting in, I saw Anakin was there waiting as well.

"Knight Degurechaff, stand before me," Master Windu said, his face schooled into neutrality.

"Yes Master." I took my place in front of him, my heart beating fast as him calling me Knight could only mean one thing.

"Your time as a Padawan is now over, but never forget that learning is a lifelong endeavor. Though you will no longer have a Master always there to teach you, we trust you will continue your delving into the mysteries of the Force on your own. Congratulations Knight Degurechaff."

With that, Master Windu ignited his saber and struck, stopping right next to my ear as my Padawan Braid, the signifier in the order of my status of still being under the direct tutelage of another, was severed, falling to the ground.

Without another word, we made our way back up to the Council Chamber. Looking over at Anakin, I saw him smiling, his own braid gone.

 

[Half_Baked_cat]

Supreme General Degurechaff, recently knighted, has been informed that an important resource planet is under siege by the separatists. Ertegas, breadbasket planet of the GAR's Southern effort, under control of the Jedi's Agricorps. An Agricorp sent to ground, hiding from the invasion.

General Degurechaff must resolve the issue swiftly, less supply issues begin plaguing the war effort. A plague that would only harm the already disadvantageous position the Republic is in with the war of attrition against a foe that can just continuously build new soldiers that do not require food as upkeep.

Using her rank, she moves swiftly to the planet without orders…

—

"Apologies Captain," I say to Captain Scoflaw, the Commanding Officer of the Venator Class Tranquility. "I know this was on short notice, but losing Ertegas would cause massive issues to the war effort."

"I understand General," the deeply tanned man said. "I just have to question if we didn't ship off too quickly and too lightly."

I nodded as I activated the holo display showing the local system centered around Ertegas. "Maybe." It was a valid concern. One that was scratching at the back of my mind as I felt a stone in my guts. "However, if we wait till we can gather a better force, that can give the Separatists time to burn the crops as we approach, leaving nothing worth fighting over."

"You think they would burn the crops?" the Captain asked, sounding alarmed.

I shake my head. "I don't know what they would do, but there are incredibly few rules of war and even if there were more, cutting off supplies is too valuable a tactic in war to ever allow for it to be banned." I crossed my arms across my chest as the Captain put his hands behind his back and took on a thoughtful look. "We have to assume the worst case scenario is on the table and work around it."

"And what would be the worst case?" The captain asked.

I sighed and looked over the map of the sector we were fast approaching. "This reminds me of a scenario I read from… I believe it was the Second Sith War. Critical supply planet with few local defenders and a lack of civilians. A shield generator was put on the planet to prevent retaliatory bombardments along with a large number of PDS to shoot any incoming dropships out of the sky. It took a concentrated force going into a weak point within the PDS coverage for troops to land planetside to even begin taking out the PDS and establishing a proper beach head. Which then resulted in trench warfare going from PDS as both sides began reinforcing the planet. The difference here is that both sides wanted the supplies of the planet then. Now? Only one of us needs the supplies for the war effort, so less care will be taken by the enemy forces towards collateral damage."

The Captain scowled as he looked over the map himself. "We will be coming in from the Hyperlane here," he said, pointing to a region of space. "Hyperlanes also here, and here. If I was to try defending with one ship, I would setup… here." He indicated an area not far from the planet roughly in the middle of where the hyperlane exits were. "Here and here if I had two capital ships." One was in between the planet and the nearest hyperlane exit to the planet and the other was between the other two hyperlanes.

I nodded my head. "Sensible. If it is more than two, assume defeat from being outnumbered and plan for immediate retreat," I said before pointing at our exit point. "We will be entering the system about here. If it is the two ship configuration, we should have enough time to launch fighters to screen for us as we approach the planet. Though being able to land planetside, even if we can capture the planet back, won't matter if the space is still under Separatist control. How confident are you that we can beat two to one odds?"

"Considering what I've heard you Jedi can do in a fighter, very."

"Belay that thought. I will not be going out in a fighter."

The Captain raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm sorry General, but I believe tactically it would be most advantageous for you to be helping with the space battle."

I shook my head. "I would be of absolutely no help. I can't fly."

"Can't fly?" The Captain asked.

"Never learned. Never been behind the controls of a vehicle. The most complicated vehicle I've ever been in control of was a fully mechanical bicycle." It was true, in both of my lives I never had a need to be in control of a transportation vehicle. I either used a bicycle to get to and from school, or made use of the public transportation systems available to me. I have to this point never found a need to personally control a vehicle and trying to learn while in a space battle seemed incredibly stupid.

The Captain coughed into his hand before reevaluating the situation. "Provided they only have droid operated systems in place and not a more competent captain in charge, then I am still confident we can keep the space battle as a pair of one on one battles that should favor us."

I nodded. "That is good to hear. Then we should be prepared to launch a concentrated group of dropships with a fighter escort planetside as soon as you manage to push their space presence back." I internally shuddered at the dangerous position I was about to put myself in, but it was necessary. We needed that food for the war effort and no matter how much I did not want to be here, I could not slack off or abandon my duty. It would ruin any future prospects I had if I wanted a comfortable life. "I will be waiting in one of the dropships while the battle is ongoing. As soon as you give the order, we will take off."

The Captain nodded before giving me a salute that I returned. "Very good sir."

—

Being on standby while the space battle occurred was nerve wracking. To distract myself, I was running my men and droids through equipment checks near the drop ships. The fighters were already out of the hangar, giving us plenty of space to lay out our gear and make sure it was all in top condition. Commander Oda was the one leading the equipment check, having been trained in how to check his equipment and knowing more than I on what to look for. The only advantage I had was the force nudging me to tighten the bolt connecting the attachment point for my lightsaber to the custom rifle I had.

The standard issued ones the Clones and Droids were assigned were a bit large for my comfort in use. I could make use of a pistol style blaster to nearly the same degree of effectiveness as a rifle, but rifles did offer a few advantages over pistols. Typically, barrel length helps with accuracy over a long distance, and while true with blasters, the force made such accuracy differences somewhat moot anyways as the force helped me compensate for my aim. The real advantages for myself was that the longer barrel took longer to heat up, increasing the number of shots I could fire before it overheated, while also having a larger surface area for that heat to dissipate from. Essentially, a rifle allowed me to fire faster, longer, and with less downtime while waiting for it to cool down should it overheat.

This advantage was further compounded with the custom barrel design of my rifle, which had a lot of similarities with a shotgun style blaster with a shorter, but chunkier barrel with furrows along it to help dissipate the heat. It was a compromise rifle that should serve me well.

Captain Scoflaw's voice came on over the comm system, "Entering orbit now. Prepare dropship launch in t-minus five minutes."

With that announcement, everyone hurriedly assembled their equipment and headed to their dropship, crowding onto the vessels before the doors closed and we were dropped into a dim glow of the internal lights. With a deep breath I looked myself over one last time, checking that the custom fitted clone armor was all in place underneath a simple sleeveless tunic. While being identifiable was of no major concern as I was the shortest person, the tunic helped cut down how much very visible white I was showing. With a robe, I could probably hide even more of the white and be incredibly hard for enemy forces to spot, but the robe was likely to catch on something and would be more of a hassle in a fight than it was worth.

We were quiet as we entered the atmosphere, the ship shaking as we began hearing the explosions of anti-aircraft shots exploding just outside the ship. My heart was beating rapidly.

Take heart, safety is just a prayer away.

I was stuck between a pair of JB-1s as we descended. I gripped my rifle tightly. The wait for landfall or death was nerve wracking.

You will have no fear if you open your heart to His glory.

Taking a deep breath, I began counting. The time till landing under normal circumstances from hitting the upper atmosphere to landfall for most planets was 20 minutes or about 1200 seconds. With the Low Altitude Assault Transport was capable of reducing that time to 12 minutes or 720 seconds with some dangerous speeds towards the surface outside the safe operating forces for most ships.

By my count, three minutes have passed. Attempting to look around the Clones and JB-1s, I could just make out that we were hitting the cloud layers. I winced as I watched one of the other LAATs get hit directly, busting in fire as bits of the ship broke off. Without the downwards thrusts, the debris and the hull of the wreckage appeared to drift upwards from my vantage point, slowing to terminal velocity.

I turned away from the sight and looked at a wall, attempting to not think of the waste this war was producing. I had to keep my head on the mission. We needed to take out or over the PDS and clear the Separatist presence.

360. We should be about half-way to the ground. I could get out here and easily make it to the ground myself, but it would still be slower than staying on the LAAT, my boots magnetized to keep me standing on the floor. I was the only one able to leave the LAAT with any degree of safety currently. Clone troopers trained in the use of Jetpacks were limited in numbers. I had a larger number under my command compared to other Jedi Generals, but I still needed to be strategic in how I utilized them. Nevermind the lack of flight capable droids currently.

420. Five minutes till we should be getting out of the LAAT. My helmet was connected to the same Comm frequencies as both my troopers and the droids around me, so I gave them a heads-up that we should be hitting the dirt soon, getting a mix of 'Roger Rogers' and 'affirmatives' in response. 450. The separatists had Vulture Droids to handle both aerial and space combat, but the droid facilities we had captured were being used solely to boost our infantry numbers currently. If we could capture a few more facilities from the Separatists, we could begin pushing out Vulture droids as a more disposable aerial and space fighters than our Clone Troopers were.

480. The droids had limited processing power built into their systems as the cost went up quickly in production as more processors were added. This meant that any experience the droids may gain on the battlefield could not be easily used to improve their efficiency in the same way organic beings could grow and adapt. 500. It was unfortunate to send any sentient being into battle, but the Clones were a huge advantage over droids thanks to being able to adapt, think laterally, and solve problems in novel ways compared to droids, but even if a Clone was worth 100 droids, we were still behind the current estimates of the Separatist forces by nearly 1000 to one.

540. Three minutes. 180 seconds. The time to cook a cup noodle. There was no more time for idle thoughts. Looking out the cockpit window again, I could see the ground approaching along with other LAATs disgorging troops. A firefight was happening out there as enemy droids had come to greet us at our dropzone, streaming in from the distant structure of the main PDS, a prefab construction dropped only a few kilometers from where we were landing. I could see smoke in the distance from wrecked LAATs that did not make it safely to the ground ahead of us as more continued to come down, either whole or on fire.

I turned towards the side door I would be exiting from, rifle at the ready and the force ready to activate my saber at a moment's notice.

This was not going to be a pretty battle as we would have to push towards the enemy in a frankly wasteful wave tactic, but stealth was not an option for us here. The only hope we had was that there were not that many defenders currently planetside.

But a single word and tides of your enemies shall fall.

The doors opened. We made it to the ground. It was time to get out of the frying pan and into the oven.

—

Vii'sha had been a Jedi Initiate raised in the temple on Coruscant. She had done well in her lessons, even participating in an Apprentice Tournament several years prior. However, despite all the other younglings around the pink Twi'lek talking about the amazing missions they would go on when they became Padawans and Knights, Vii'sha was uncertain. She wanted to help people. Help as many people as she could, but was being a Knight constantly running around the best way to help people?

Vii'sha had read that a lot of the beings in the galaxy that had financial difficulties would go hungry regularly. Something Vii'sha never needed to worry about at the Temple as she would be able to go to the cafeteria whenever she wanted to get something to eat.

With these doubts in her head, and seeing a Youngling half her age dominate that tournament, only losing in the last match after a well fought battle, Vii'sha had made up her mind. At eleven years old, her lightsaber hanging from her side, and no master to stop her, Vii'sha went to the Council of Reassignment to be sent to the Agricorps.

Oh, they had attempted to talk her out of it for now, that she would have plenty of chances to get a master, but Vii'sha was certain. She wanted to help people by feeding them. And the best way to feed as many people as possible was to help grow the food they ate. So the Council of Reassignment relented and Vii'sha was sent to Ertegas under the watchful eyes of a senior Agricorps member, Arakawa. Usually an Initiate being sent to one of the service corps might be required to surrender their lightsaber if they had constructed one. Vii'sha was allowed to keep hers as while she was not going down the path of a Knight, she was honorably and humbly serving both the order and the larger galaxy in a way that the Order would want any Jedi Knight to do so.

So for the past several years, Vii'sha lived a simple life on Ertegas, overseeing large farms of crops, continuing to meditate on the force, and practicing with her lightsaber. She was taught what she needed to do to manage the farms under her care by Arakawa before being left mostly to herself and the droids that did most of the actual work, and with so much time free Vii'sha fell back on the lessons she had at the Temple of meditation and lightsaber practice. Day in and day out, she would wake up, tend to the farms, checking what repairs needed to be done, what orders for fertilizer might need to be placed, and any other activity to keep the farms producing as much food as possible for the galaxy at large. Once her duty with the farms were done, she would have a meal of her own before spending an hour practicing her lightsaber form before settling down and meditating until it was time for her second daily meal, washing up, and then going to bed.

A simple life, but one Vii'sha found suited her nicely.

She had seen the announcement that a large war had broken out and the Jedi were fighting in it, but Vii'sha had not been tapped for combat. She was just here, on Ertegas, peacefully tending to the farms. At least, that was the case for about a month after the news of the war when a large shadow appeared. A shadow that was from a single, massive, starship. A starship that sent down many landing craft nearby, even a large pre-fabricated structure that put up a shield around the planet.

War had arrived to her little corner and Vii'sha felt fear. She ran into fields and watched as these enemy droids began seizing control of the facilities and searching for her. Arakawa had left the planet months ago, leaving the entire planet under Vii'sha's purview for the time being.

None of the droids were designed for fighting, so it was just Vii'sha, all by herself. By herself, outnumbered, with only a lightsaber.

She swallowed thickly.

Snap! Hish.

She activated her lightsaber, taking some comfort in the green glow.

She would likely die, but she had wanted to help the galaxy. She tried feeding the galaxy and if these Separatist droids were trying to stop this food from getting out to the hungry people, she would just have to do what she could to stop them.

—

Shit! This was bad. We had managed to make landfall, but the PDS was swarming with droids. They were everywhere protecting the defensive system. I knew that the Lucrehulk Battleships had more room for forces, but I had forgotten that their forces also took up so much less room during transport.

You can have the power to face any army.

My forces were decimated. More than decimated. We had maybe one in ten of the droids we brought with us still operating. The clones fared a lot better, at least among those that didn't die from being shot out of the sky.

A retreat was impossible at this point as what LAATs that managed to make it to the drop point were being shot out of the sky as they attempted to get back for another round of infantry.

Injuries are a small issue next to His gift.

My back was against a wall. I had to lead my men to victory as waiting for reinforcements was out of the question. Either we took over that PDS, secured the planet, and could leave a garrison force of our own to fend off Separatist attacks, or these droids would search and systematically eliminate us if we attempted to wait.

Victory or death.

His Glory will grant Victory!

I fucked up big time. I should have waited for another Venator to be ready to back us up. I should have tapped another Jedi for help.

"Keep to the fields! And don't stop moving towards that damn tower!"

I couldn't hide my fear. We just had to keep moving.

Just a word and you will fly free.

"Help me," I begged.

---

Edit suggestions: JR11