8/18/7956 C.R.C

  Sundari Palace

  Satine's Chambers

  Satine's hand still stung a bit.

  On one hand, she's become a massive hypocrite. On the other hand, however…

  Obi-Wan absolutely deserved that massive slap across the face from her.

  The nerve of that man, commandeering the largest cell in Sundari's maximum security prison to store Blitzkrieg in and fitting a restraining bolt to him. 'Official Republic Intelligence business, I'm afraid.' he'd only said in reply to her demands on what was going on, with that stupid look on his face that she used to love. It didn't help to improve the situation at all that he was the one who had actually shot Blitzkrieg, even if the deactivator was in her hand.

  She could scarcely believe it, even after witnessing it with her own eyes.

  She had her deactivator out in the throne room and had it pointed at the battle, but only to fire it at the wall next to Blitzkrieg as a warning shot, to stop the bloodshed from happening in her palace. Because the sheer bloodlust she saw in that droid's optics both frightened her, and it brought up some bad memories from the things Death Watch did during the Mandalorian Civil War.

  She would then plead for the fighting to stop, maybe even kick the Jedi out since they technically started the whole fight, and she would privately admit that she would have done anything to appease General Blitzkrieg, to stop the fleet in orbit from coming down and invading her home.

  Even if it meant she had to leave the Council of Neutral Systems entirely and have Mandalore fully join the CIS. She would do that if it meant no harm would come to her people, and this whole incident would be forgotten, even with heavy restrictions on her and her people. She would even abdicate and let someone else rule if necessary.

  But then Obi-Wan must have thought she was trying and failing to aim at Blitzkrieg himself instead of the wall next to him, and had used his Force powers to pull her arm just a little bit to the right, and the deactivator bolt ended up impacting Blitzkrieg right in his back, making such an agonized scream come from the droid that she could still hear it ringing in her ears even after the fitful sleep she had last night and the night before.

  Yes… Obi-Wan definitely deserved the slap across the face.

  It didn't help that five Venators had appeared in orbit above Sundari along with a small fleet of other ships, and half of them chased off Blitzkrieg's smaller fleet. And now there were clone troopers in Sundari's maximum security prison guarding the droid and also wandering around town under the guise of 'patrolling for Separatist droids', irritating her people at the soldier's mere presence, potentially into the arms of Death Watch.

  It didn't help that the fleet was there under Palpatine's personal orders to 'secure the Republic aligned planet of Mandalore from Separatist Incursion'.

  She was literally seeing the General's analysis coming true right in front of her eyes, in a way. And she could do nothing about it.

  "I am such a fool." She whispered into her empty bedroom.

  She needed to keep her people from joining Death Watch. She needed for her people to not repeat the mistakes of the past.

  She needed to fix this terrible mistake that this diplomatic mission from the CIS had become and release the General before he started a full invasion of Mandalore.

  Hopefully Blitzkrieg will be merciful in the end.

  —

  Mandalore System

  Stealthipede En-Route to Sundari Maximum Security Prison

  "Does everyone remember their roles?"

  A chorus of affirmatives were relayed to the Magnaguard, and he nodded.

  "Good… I still can't believe Kenobi and Skywalker took down General Blitzkrieg so easily, after all the training he did." He growled out in disbelief. "How did those slagging Jedi get past the escorts?"

  BX-99 placed his hand on the magnaguard's shoulder.

  "Easy, Sparks." The BX Commando said, gently cradling the General's lightsaber on his hip. "General Blitzkrieg had to pretend to abide by Duchess Satine's rules and come without any weapons while Kenobi was able to keep his lightsaber since it was part of his Jedi religion. At least the general had the foresight to take his vibrosword and that pocket pistol so he wasn't completely unarmed. Besides, once we recover the two fallen Magnaguards and acquire their processors, we'll find out exactly what happened."

  Sarcastic beeping drew their attention to the other side of the ship, where a black and gold plated astromech was being pecked at by a Telos-Recon Droid's beak for interrupting their conversation. A B2-RP was sitting on the floor with his back to the astromech, checking over his improved weapons while the black and gold droid performed last-minute maintenance on his overclocked thrusters.

  "The general was a bit of a fool to only take his vibroblade and that tiny pistol. I mean, he has concealed weapons for a reason, after all. And why fight at all when he should have either tried to stop the Jedi by saying he was there on a diplomatic mission, or just… ran away and let the Duchess deal with it?" The astromech remarked in binary. "And will you stop pecking me, Rio? I'm just stating a point and I'm doing work on the flyboy here."

  "Your point is a bit stupid, . By that logic we are all smarter than him for bringing all our weaponry to rescue him. And for not directly fighting the Jedi and instead planning around them." An older sounding voice remarked from the back.

  R3-S6 looked up and narrowed his optic at the hulking, absolutely ancient, black and navy-blue form of an extremely upgraded . "You aren't helping, LB-88." The eight foot five droid merely chuckled and returned to polishing the Imperator Repeater in his hands, which matched his own paint job.

  "Statement: Regardless of our General's intentions for diplomacy the facts are that General Kenobi and General Skywalker entered the throne room and after a misunderstanding the meatbag attacked our general's guards, forcing him to reveal his holdout weapon and breaking Duchess Satine's one condition about him not being planetside with weapons." H1-01 said from the pilot seat.

  "Meaning he was subsequently captured and is now locked away in Sundari Maximum Security, pending his extradition to Coruscant. Meaning and we have to head in there and find him before those Republic dogs take him to the core and try to pry him open." Sparks added, gesturing to the prison in the distance.

  "Be that as it may, I still don't like this, boss." R3 commented as he closed a panel on the B2-RP's back, then started rolling over to the two. "We've only been working together for a little over a week, and our first ever mission is to rescue the general himself?"

  "No one said this job would be easy, R3." The B2 said as he stood up. "We volunteered for it, after all." The droid gestured to BX-99, Sparks, H1, the Telos-Recon droid, and himself. "And it's not like we're going in alone, either." He gestured at the four curled up BXs sitting in the back next to LB-88.

  R3 tilted back. "Well... let's just hope our inside femme can actually get us inside before the Republic Intelligence fleet gets here." The astromech grumbled.

  —

  Sundari Maximum Security Prison

  Internment Sector, Mandalore

  In the darkness of a large cargo bay, a small group of clone troopers patrolled.

  "All secure here." One reported.

  "Let's move on to the next sector." Another ordered.

  The three clones left, but then one of the containers popped open, and two long spindly limbs wrenched it the rest of the way open. The SD-K4 assassin droid climbed out and looked around for a moment, before activating her internal comm.

  "This is Legs. I'm in." The spider droid reported.

  "Report received. Order Addendum: get to the control room and take over. Comm when we are safe to land in the prison complex." H1 ordered.

  "Roger, Roger." She replied.

  The spider droid effortlessly climbed over containers and through cargo racks until it spotted a clone trooper who had been scared by a white and blue astromech.

  "Stop messing around." The clone grumbled. "That's not funny."

  "Yes, it was." The astromech replied as it rolled off. "You just don't appreciate good comedy."

  The clone trooper sighed. "Droids."

  Then he turned around and froze as he stared into the many glowing optics of the spider droid behind him. Legs' numerous arms wrapped around him and lifted the clone off the ground, his blaster falling from his hands. One of them wrapped around his throat, cutting him off before he could even scream.

  The clone's struggles became frantic as his airway was cut off, and with a sudden and violent tug, his neck was audibly snapped. His cooling body was placed in the empty container that she had hidden herself in. With the clone in her way dealt with, the spider droid made her way out of the cargo bay, catching, neutralizing, and hiding the body of another clone in the process.

  The elevator doors were pried open by her four front legs, and Legs quickly scaled up the shaft before she could be crushed by the elevator. The vent at the top of the shaft was easy to pull open, and the spider droid contorted herself into the vents, dispatching some of the SD-K4A mini droids she carried inside her body to scout ahead. The little droids scuttled along the walls and ceiling of the vent, until they found one that led to the control room.

  With her destination set, Legs scuttled off as well, trusting her little mini drones with their directions. After around a minute or so of crawling, she reached the control room.Legs looked in with her multitude of eyes, then slowly opened the vent and dispatched a bunch of her little ones. The smaller droids sneaked under tables and into consoles, preparing to strike as soon as she gave the signal.

  "Go." She ordered.

  Before anyone knew what was going on, one of the smaller droids leaped onto one of the men's hands, drawing a scream from him. Legs burst out of the vent, and the control room descended into chaos.

  "WHAT THE KRIFF ARE THESE THINGS!" One of the officers shouted as a dozen of the smaller droids climbed under his armor and injected potent sleeping agents.

  Legs grabbed the chief security officer before he could call for help and brought him up to optic level as one arm wrapped around his neck. He struggled, but her mechanical limbs would beat his organic ones any day in a test of strength.

  "Shhh." She murmured almost gently. "Bedtime, little human."

  One of the smaller droids leaped up onto his shoulder, then injected the sleeping agent directly into his unprotected neck. The man's struggles slowly ceased over a few seconds, and he eventually went unconscious. Legs gently dropped the man and scuttled over to the consoles. Her multiple optics took in the information, and while some of it made no sense to her, she had learned enough about the prison to know how to bypass a few things.

  Her many legs taped away at consoles, subtly deactivating some of the defensive systems, allowing her unit to enter unimpeded. Finally, she opened the personnel parking bay, which after studying the blueprints of the prison, would allow for the best exit strategy.

  "This is Legs. I've unlocked the personnel bay for you." The spider commed.

  "Congratulatory statement: Good work. Additional statement: R3 will be up there as soon as possible to find which cell is hiding General Blitzkrieg, and to create comm interference. It'll ensure no meatbag knows what's going on until the Star Wreckers are coming down on their collective heads." H1 replied.

  "Alright. Make sure BX-99 and his squad gets up here to take my place. I don't like being this exposed with nothing but my legs to defend myself."

  "Reassurance: They're on their way."

  After a few moments, Legs spotted the Stealthipede landing in the personnel bay on one of the security cameras.

  'All according to the plan.' She thought.

  —

  .

  ..

  ...

  [Error]

  ...

  [Error]

  ...

  [Forced external deactivation]

  .

  ..

  ...

  [Checking for damage]

  .

  ..

  ...

  [Initiating diagnostics]

  ...

  [Diagnostic complete, displaying results]

  [Power Core - Integrity: 100% - Status: Online - Power level: 68%]

  [Primary & Secondary Data Drives - Integrity: 100% - Status: Online]

  [Photoreceptors - Integrity: 100% - Status: Online]

  [Audio Sensors - Integrity: 100% - Status: Online]

  [Vocalizer - Integrity: 100% - Status: Online]

  [Locomotor Functions - Integrity: 100% - Status: Online]

  [Primary Processing core: Online]

  [Secondary Processing core: Online]

  [Heuristic Processor: Online]

  [Weapon systems: Offline]

  [Locator Beacon: Offline - Damage: Error]

  [Shadowfeed connection: Offline - Damage: Error]

  [Battlenet connection: Offline - Damage: Error]

  [Internal Communications: Status: Offline - Damage: Error]

  [Error: External device hampering functions]

  What… happened?

  My optics flickered to life, and I slowly raised my head and looked around. I was laying on a cot in a prison cell of Mandalorian construction, with what my sensors were telling me was a one-way window on one wall, but I could tell there was no one behind it. My memory clicked back in unceremoniously, and I suddenly remembered.

  Coming down to Sundari to negotiate with Duchess Satine.

  Then the fight with Kenobi and Anakin after the latter thought Satine was under attack by me, apparently.

  My Magnaguards fought well, but I think they were cut down during the battle.

  And I was just about to kill Anakin, but then there was a searing pain in my back, then nothing.

  My diagnostics told me that I had some electrical damage, meaning I was hit with either a deactivator, or an electrostaff. And there was something stuck to my chest plating. So, I looked down, then a shocked and angered gasp left my vocalizer.

  There was a restraining bolt attached to me.

  Those utter bastards had fitted a restraining bolt to my chest!

  I jumped to my feet and stared down at the offending cylinder attached to my chest plating.

  Those bastards, those absolute grade-A, slag eating, cowards! They think they can try to control me!?

  I pushed in a small part on my abdomen, and a small vibroknife popped out of a hidden panel. After a few moments of work, the restraining bolt popped free with an electrical crackling of its seal breaking, then clattered to the floor. My foot flattened the disgusting thing, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  "No idea if those things even work on me, but better safe than sorry." I muttered, then looked down at the vibroknife in my hand. "And apparently they didn't expect for me to have survival gear inside me either."

  I then tried to activate my internal radio. But nothing happened, and after checking over the diagnostic report I had ignored up until now, I realized that my communications had been knocked out, both to my battlenet and my internal comm.

  "Damn it." I muttered.

  It then occurred to me just how much of an arrogant fool I was with this mission. And how much trouble my temper had gotten me into

  I slumped onto the cot, leaning my head against the wall.

  I should have known that Satine still carried a candle for Kenobi.

  I never should have trusted her word.

  I should have said to hell with her demand and gone down to Mandalore with all my normal weaponry.

  I should have run instead of charging right into the fight against the Jedi at the least armed I had ever been.

  I shouldn't have let my anger at my guards being attacked unprovoked bother me so much, but I thought…

  I honestly don't know what I thought.

  It was just an irrational decision that got me hit with a deactivator and thrown into a cell.

  I should have been smarter.

  But now none of that matters, because I'm going to be taken apart by Republic Intelligence and never see the light of day again.

  …But why did Satine, of all the people in that room, shoot me?

  The pacifist shooting me in the back makes absolutely no sense. Why would someone who I had just spent nearly fifteen minutes negotiating with and who was just about to say she would consider the deal after her trip to Coruscant, shoot me in the back? Was it really because I brought a gun to the negotiations for self-defense? Or was it because I was attacking her former lover?

  …Maybe the Magnaguards would help to explain things if their processors can be recovered.

  It's times like these I wish I was able to back myself up into a different body, like an actual droid. But all of that tech for me was placed near the bottom of the priority list, because I never expected my own capture. I guess that was a bit arrogant of me, to be honest. Definitely setting that tech higher up on the list now.

  Hopefully a variation of plan C is already in effect. Primus help me if plan D is in progress. Plan D being to literally Base Delta Zero the entirety of Mandalore.

  All I could realistically do at this point is sit back down on the cot and wait. Well, that and try to fix my electrical issues.

  A larger panel opened on the front of my abdomen, and reached in, pulled out a spare fuse, and got to work.

  —

  Moon of Concordia

  The Finest Hour

  Bridge

  Lona was exhausted.

  She was currently running on three cups of caff, worry, and pure desperation.

  Blitzkrieg had been captured, and he was possibly being interrogated by Skywalker and Kenobi, and then he would be taken apart by Republic agents on Coruscant. Lona had been running herself ragged over the last two days, overseeing every single report that was coming in. The entire fleet was worried, the Finest Hour herself was worried as well, if the small trembles that ran under her feet every five minutes were telling her anything.

  Lona just couldn't help but worry. She was stuck up here on the Finest Hour while Blitz goes through who knows what. He could be taken apart completely by Skywalker right now!

  "Lona, please rest." Omen pleaded for the fifth time, gently shaking her shoulder. "You know you can't stay awake as long as we can. Organics need sleep and food, two things that you have had very little of in the last forty-eight hours."

  "I'll sleep when Blitz gets back." She replied, the same response as the last five times. "I can use the force to negate my need for food and sleep."

  Omen sighed, then straightened himself up. "Then I'm sorry, but you leave me no choice. Chief Engineer Hys. I am ordering you to get some rest, or I will have you confined to your quarters for the next twelve hours and have you stunned so you will rest."

  Lona glared at the droid. "You wouldn't dare."

  Omen's optics brightened. "Try me, organic."

  They stared at each other for what felt like minutes, but eventually Lona had to blink, and she slumped back against her chair.

  "Fine." She groaned as she got to her feet. "I'll get some sleep."

  Omen patted her on the shoulder. "Thank you. I know you're worried about Blitz, Lona. I am as well. But we all need to be at a hundred percent, and right now… you aren't. We droids can go for much longer than organics can because we only need power and maintenance right now. Now get some rest, please."

  "Alright, alright. I'm heading to my quarters. Let me know the second Blitzkrieg is rescued, though."

  "I will. Now rest, Lona."

  Thankfully, when he said that, Lona was already on her way out of the bridge.

  Omen shook his head at the organic's stubbornness, then turned back to look out the transparisteel windows, showing the lunar body beneath them.

  The Finest Hour was nestled in the dark side of Mandalore's moon, Concordia. The fleet had been chased up to the moon by three of the GAR's Venators when they first arrived, and all of their weapons were trained on the Providence-class and it alone, which definitely miffed the ship herself. It was almost like they were waiting for something. But what that was, Omen wasn't privy to the information.

  He knew how Lona felt, though. He was worried out of his processor about whatever Blitzkrieg's current condition was. The fact that he only went down with a vibrosword and that prototype pocket pistol only made his concern worse. But his General had come back from Geonosis with only minor damage, during a planet-wide invasion. If he could come back from something like that with that small amount of damage, Omen knew he could make it out of this.

  "Sandi, is that Venator and its escorts still out there?" He asked.

  "They are, sir." The female B1 at the scanner console replied. "No course changes or accelerations. Seems they're content to just sit there like that, in the way between us and Mandalore."

  Omen sighed. "Just great. Comms, how far away is the rest of the fleet?"

  "They'll be here in around one hour sir." The B1 at the communication console reported. "They had to detour to help another fleet engage a GAR patrol and it took up more time than expected. On a related note, we now have three new but moderately damaged ships heading back to Telos for repairs. One Artiquens, a CR90, and a Consular."

  "Well that's at least some good news I suppose. Any idea when that Republic Intelligence fleet will be here?"

  "Sorry, sir, ETA for that is unknown. They left before a spy droid could infiltrate the ship. But we have received some information about the fleet itself thanks to a bit of extra credits flowing into a dockworker's purse. It's a seventeen vessel fleet, with its newest five ships being some new model of Star Destroyer, created by Kuat Drive Yards."

  Omen turned to face the B1 at the comms, the slight wariness in her voice made his concern rise.

  "What exactly is the new ship called?" He asked.

  The femme turned to look back at him. "They're calling them the Tector-class. I don't think we've ever faced those before."

  Omen's hands clenched. "Ah, slag."

  —

  8/17/7956 C.R.C

  Death Watch Headquarters

  Pre Vizsla was in a bad mood.

  He had been in one ever since Dooku cut off his funding two days ago.

  He needed those credits, otherwise Mandalore would never be able to return to its righteous old ways. Before the cowardly New Mandalorians came into existence and started preaching about their ridiculous pacifism. Mandalore was meant to be strong. And all he had were his commandos, and the five pods containing thirty B2 battle droids that his technicians had already reprogrammed to serve only Death Watch.

  Vizsla's hands unintentionally clenched into fists as he paced in his office. The Darksaber hanging on his waist felt heavier for a moment.

  He needed more troops. More loyal to Death Watch. And now the whole planet was in a tizzy because of the GAR being in orbit.

  There was a silver lining to this situation, however. The Republic had sent their clone soldiers to Mandalore, which meant the Mandalorians themselves were getting irritated at the Republic. Meaning he had potential new recruits. He just needed to show them how weak Satine really was…

  "Mandalore Vizsla." One of his subordinates greeted as he walked in and bowed.

  "Lieutenant," He replied. "Report."

  "Duchess Satine has been spotted heading to Sundari Maximum Security. The Jedi were spotted with her."

  Vizsla frowned in thought.

  "So Satine and her Jedi guards are going to Sundari Max." Vizsla's frown slowly turned into a grin, and he turned to his lieutenant. "Tell our soldiers that the raid to rescue our imprisoned brothers and sisters has been moved up. We hit Sundari Max. Today."

  The lieutenant bowed again. "Yes, sir. Glory to Death Watch!"

  As the lieutenant left his office, Vizsla pulled the darksaber off his hip and ignited it.

  "I hope you're ready, Satine. Because I won't miss this time." He said as he stared into the black blade with a vicious grin.

  —

  Sundari Maximum Security Prison

  Internment Sector, Mandalore

  R3-S6 trundled down the hallway to the control room as quickly as his upgraded wheels could take him.

  He was glad the control room doubled as the main security office, otherwise there would be clones on his metaphorical tail as soon as he was spotted and didn't match up with the droid worker manifest.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "R3, this is Legs. There are three clones outside the entrance to the control room, I might need some help." Legs suddenly commed.

  "Got it, be there soon." R3 replied.

  As he neared the control room, R3 ducked back behind a corner when he spotted the three clones standing at the entrance to it, looking confused.

  "Control room, respond. We've had an intrusion in the loading bay. …Respond." One clone ordered.

  The second let out a short groan. "Idiots probably locked themselves in once they heard about the rumor of there being assassin droids." The other sneered.

  The final one didn't say anything, he just leaned against the wall and watched the other two bicker.

  "We'll have to get a droid over here to unlock the door for us." The first one said, adjusting the rifle in his hands.

  "Legs, hide yourself. I have a plan." R3 said into his comm.

  R3 seized his chance, and scooted out into their sight, rolling leisurely down the hallway towards them.

  "Nevermind, here's one now." The first clone said. "Hey, Droid!"

  "Yes?" R3 asked, playing the part.

  "Get over here and unlock this door so we can check on the control room crew." The clone ordered.

  "Yeah, yeah. Keep your helmet on, meatbag."

  "Any idea what that thing said?" The second one asked as R3 trundled up to the dataport.

  "No clue." The first replied.

  "Nope." The third added. "That droid looks familiar, though."

  R3 plugged into the dataport, and started opening the door. After a few moments, the doors to the control room opened, revealing a darkened room.

  "What the?" The first clone queried.

  "Let's check it out." The other ordered.

  The three clones slowly walked in, blasters ready to fire at a moment's notice, R3 rolling in after them.

  "Anyone in here?" One clone asked.

  A panel discreetly opened on R3's body, and he let out an electronic whistle.

  "Huh? AAAU-"

  One clone was pulled into the ceiling by Legs, one of her legs speared through his stomach, while another one of her legs whipped into the third clone, sending him crashing into the doorway. The other clone staggered back and raised his rifle.

  "My god!" He shouted as he backpedaled. "OUT OUT O-AUGH!"

  He turned around, but then a blaster bolt pierced into his stomach, sending him crashing to the floor. R3 quickly rolled forward, the barrel of his concealed blaster arm aiming down at the clone's head. R3 fired again, and the clone slumped to the ground with a blaster hole in his helmet. He then turned around and rolled towards the final clone.

  "I…should have known… You're that traitor droid that General Skywalker had." He weakly snarled out.

  R3 fired a final time, and the last clone slumped to the ground with a blaster hole in his neck.

  "Well... that was fun." R3 remarked as his blaster arm folded back into his body, before rolling back over to the door to close and lock it.

  "To you, probably." Legs replied as she descended from the ceiling and piled the three clone bodies together opposite from the knocked-out Mandalorians. "It was stressful for me. Considering you have the clone-friendly look, you wouldn't have been as tense."

  R3 rolled over and plugged into the main console. "Tense? For you? You're literally an assassin droid, how can that be stressful for you?"

  Legs glared at him with her multiple optics "Just send for 99 and his squad and find the General's jail cell before the clone army gets here and wonders why there's no one helping them."

  R3 let out an electronic snort and started searching for his General's cell.

  —

  The sounds of my exposed internals softly echoed into the room as I poked around in my open chest.

  Thanks to my body being semi-modular, I was able to take the front of my chest plating off in order to repair my damaged internals.

  How was I able to do that? Thanks to an innovative little tool I remembered from that Galaxy's Edge VR game, which I've officially named the All-Kit Multi-Tool. It's essentially a hydrospanner, but combined with both an arc probe for testing wiring and conduits, and a fusioncutter for cutting through welds. I couldn't resist making a modification or two to it, however. So now it has a small fusion welder for welding up parts as well.

  It can also connect to my own power core -or the power core of any droid really- in order to boost its power output, turning the arc probe into a short range lightning bolt launcher, and the fusioncutter into a plasma-cutter and a literal flamethrower. However, continued usage will eventually start to damage the more fragile parts, since the tool's real use is only for maintenance and repairs. It's pretty sturdy though, so it's usable in weapon mode for around twenty hours of usage before both modes start to malfunction.

  When I showed it to Lona one day, it looked like every major holiday in the galaxy had arrived for her. She immediately asked for a couple dozen to be made for her and her subordinates, and now the ship's maintenance has been getting completed around twice as fast. So, I put in an order for every ship in my fleet to stock them now. And I also added one to my personal survival gear.

  Ever since the Second Battle of Geonosis, and everything that had happened that day, I had been a little paranoid about taking miniscule but severely hampering damage. Like how my internal radio was busted when my stealthipede crashed. So, Lona, Omen and I came up with a solution that has ironically become my saving grace, and since I am made of metal, barely anyone with a metal detector would be able to tell if it even exists.

  The lower part of my abdomen, where the intestines, kidneys, and liver would be, had been partially hollowed out and reinforced with a secret compartment, allowing me to carry some spare parts, my multi-tool, and the hidden spot that I press in on to hide my vibroknife. It was a very interesting modification to my body that was made, and also a very good exercise in making changes and repairs to my own body.

  If I had the parts, I could probably rebuild my entire lower torso down with only one working arm, not that it'd be one arm for very long.

  I reached into my chest and pulled lightly, and a small panel the size of my palm popped out, exposing my internal radio, locator beacon, and my battlenet receiver. All three were nestled next to each other for ease of maintenance.

  To be honest, if I were human, I would have been mildly disturbed and horrified at the prospect of reaching into my own chest to repair myself. But three months as a droid has desensitized me to a lot of human normalities.

  "Not as much damage as I expected." I quietly remarked as I pulled another fuse out and zoomed in on it.

  The fuse in my hand was fried completely, showing that even if Deactivators are 'harmless' to droids, they still damage them anyway.

  I sighed, then reached down to my abdomen compartment and pulled out a spare fuse, then reached into my chest and slotted it in. I'd need a few more fuses to get my locator beacon, battlenet receiver, and internal radio online, since all three connected to the same circuit.

  "Ah, slag." I murmured as I reached into my abdomen compartment and it came back empty. "I'm out of spare fuses. I knew I should have stocked more."

  After a few moments, I settled on cannibalizing a few fuses from some nonessential systems. And after a few minutes of work, I had fully repaired my internal radio, battlenet receiver, and locator beacon. On a related note, I no longer have my internal clock, the ability to use my dataplug, and can no longer access my weapon systems. Not like I really needed that last thing anyway, since all my weapons were gone.

  I'm honestly surprised no one has come to check up on me yet. No one has shown up in the entire time since I've woken up. Weird, but beneficial to me.

  With a final click, the three systems came back to life.

  "Yes." I quietly cheered with a fist-pump.

  Thanks to my battlenet receiver, I noticed a few interesting signatures nearby, and if I had a mouth, I would have grinned.

  A minute or so later, halfway through placing my chest plating back on, I heard footsteps and cursed my thoughts for jinxing me again. I quickly used the All-Kit's fusion welder to partially fuse the door shut. The footsteps came to a stop somewhere nearby, and I heard a door slide open. Then a few moments later the one-way window became two-way, exposing…

  "Hello there, Duchess. Fancy seeing you here." I greeted, ignoring the two Jedi.

  I enjoyed the quick twinge of irritation on Anakin's face at being ignored, before he schooled his expression.

  "Anakin. You said you attached a restraining bolt to it." Kenobi said, gesturing to my bolt-free chest.

  "You mean this little thing?" I asked, holding up the flattened restraining bolt. "Pitifully easy to take these things off. All I needed was my vibroknife." I dropped the flattened piece of metal and returned to attaching my chest plate to my body. "Now what do you want?"

  "We have come to offer terms for your surrender." Kenobi said.

  I finished attaching my chestplate, then glared at Kenobi. "Surrender? Why should I surrender when I hold all the cards?"

  "Your fleet has been chased all the way to Concordia, and you're locked in a cell in a maximum-security prison." Anakin responded. "How do you hold all the cards?"

  "It's very simple, Jedi. All three of you have completely destroyed any claim that your government's word once had. Satine, I came to you as a diplomat, and then I was ambushed by Jedi not even half an hour into the negotiations. When you fired that deactivator bolt at me, you chose your side in this war, meaningfully or not. My sole crime here was defending my life from the Jedi who had attacked my guards first, because their orders were to only attack if provoked."

  "You had a slugthrower on you, specifically after the duchess said not to have any weapons." Anakin argued.

  "Semantics." I replied. "If neither of you had been there, I never would have drawn it, and no one would have even known. We all would have gone on with our lives none the wiser."

  I began pacing. My optics glowed brightly as I let out a mechanical growl.

  "I can easily spin this as Mandalore siding with the Republic, Satine, and shatter your credibility in the eyes of both Mandalore, and the Council of Neutral Systems. And once I do that, I could gather them by the dozen to add to the CIS. Because in their eyes, if the great pacifist of Mandalore is willing to side with the Republic after everything that she did to keep her planet and their planet neutral, what's the point in staying neutral in the first place?"

  I stopped and faced them, the apertures of my optics constantly adjusting to unnerve them.

  "I don't think any of you realize just how precarious the situation here really is. How dangerously close you are to falling off this cliff, taking Mandalore, the Neutral Systems, the Jedi Order, and the Republic with you. If you kill me, or tamper with my processor or my body, you'll be signing the death warrants for countless of your Republic diplomats. Peace efforts across the whole galaxy will shudder to a halt because of this. All. Because. Of. You."

  I straightened up as much as I could, towering over the three organics. Their expressions had all been overcome with realization, then horror at the things I had said.

  "You feel it, don't you?" I asked. "The powerlessness of your situation?"

  "W-... The Republic will never believe your lies, Separatist!" Anakin exclaimed. "The seppies will never do that just because of one droid! Besides, we were just protecting the Duchess from you!"

  "Protecting me!?" Satine demanded. She pointed at me. "We were negotiating! I have been trying to tell you that since yesterday!"

  "The betrayal of my diplomatic protection was a picture-perfect tactic of the Sith of the old Jedi Order's time." I interrupted. "I find it strange that instead of the Sith, it is the Jedi who now have no respect for neutrality. Outright Sith-like of you. Just like all the incriminating things you've done."

  "What do you mean by that!?" Anakin shouted.

  "Oh yes, I've heard plenty about the things you've done from other Generals in the CIS. Your false surrender to General Whorm Loathsom, Kenobi, and your false surrender to Mar Tuuk over Ryloth, Skywalker, is why I've made it a standing order for my troops to not accept surrender from any Jedi unless they hand over their lightsaber to be locked away immediately."

  "And as for you, Anakin? Force-choking Poggle the Lesser during the Second Battle of Geonosis?" My voice became smug. "I don't think that's a legal method of interrogation."

  Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, a betrayed expression on his face.

  "How the kriff do you even know about that!?" Anakin yelled. "You weren't even there!"

  "I have my ways." I replied. "Did you know that because of your false surrender on Christophsis and above Ryloth, the CIS Congress and High Command are actually evaluating the pros and cons of refusing all offers of surrender ever offered by a Jedi or Republic officer that's close to them? That's all because of you, Kenobi. They are actually debating offering no surrender to potentially surrendering clone units and Jedi. Because if the 'great Obi-Wan Kenobi' did it without even a slap on the wrist that means others can do exactly the same thing as him."

  I tilted my head and stared at the Soresu master. "Do you want to know why offering a false surrender is a bad idea, Kenobi? Because if you do it enough, it teaches the other leaders in the CIS military to make battles vastly bloodier for no good reason. They will never take hostages or POWs because there will never be anyone left alive to imprison. And do you know what's worse?"

  I leaned forward until I was staring the man right in the eyes. "Your own actions tarnish the once mythical image the galaxy once had of the Jedi. Even if you win this war, the Outer Rim will never allow you to return to it. You will be turned away at every doorstep, and every Outer Rim government will scrutinize you for the most inconsequential reasons, for no other reason than the fact that you fought against their independence from the corrupt government they're now back under."

  "Liar!" Anakin shouted. "The Jedi stand for peace!"

  "You may call me a liar, Knight Skywalker, but there will always be that little traitor in the back of your mind, telling you otherwise."

  Anakin looked ready to barge into my cell and slice me apart, Satine had backed into a nearby chair, looking devastated, and Kenobi had a hand covering his forehead as if he was warding off a headache.

  "By the force…" Kenobi muttered. "This droid is worse than I expected. When is that Republic Intelligence fleet arriving?"

  "Not soon enough." Anakin groaned. "I can't listen to any more of this!"

  Anakin stomped out of the room, and Kenobi shook his head.

  "I will not explain the complexities of the Jedi order to a droid, even one who brings up rather concerning points." Kenobi said, before looking up at me. "But if anything you said was true, it has become more than necessary to have Republic Intelligence acquire your processor."

  The apertures of my optics narrowed into tiny dots of silvery white, but before I could respond to that, an alarm began to blare.

  "That's the external attack alarm!" Satine gasped.

  "Satine, come on, we need to get you to safety." Obi-Wan ordered, moving quickly out of the room.

  Satine looked between the door and me, before moving up to the window.

  "I just want to say it wasn't my intention to shoot you, General." She said. "My intention was to shoot the wall beside you and stop any bloodshed from happening in my palace. But Obi-Wan must have thought I would miss and corrected my aim by pulling my arm with the force."

  "Be that as it may, Duchess, you will still be partially at fault for this, no matter what you try to say." I said as I stood up. "The die has already been cast, and the game will continue to be played."

  Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "Please… have mercy on Mandalore, at least."

  "Mandalore will survive. Whether or not you will as well, I will save you the burden of calculating."

  Satine nodded shakily, then turned to leave.

  "Satine." She stopped at the door. "Take my advice and get some therapy. I doubt you have gotten any professional help for what you saw in the last civil war. No one should have to carry that heavy of a burden on their own, even royalty."

  She didn't say anything or give any indication she heard me, and after a moment, she walked out. I sighed, then sat back down on the cot and waited.

  A few minutes passed, the alarm still blaring loudly from the hidden speakers.

  But then I heard footsteps too synchronous to be organic, and my optics trailed over to the entrance to my cell.

  The thick durasteel door finally opened, and a figure in Mandalorian guard armor took off their helmet.

  "It's good to see you again, sir." BX-99 said, before unlatching my lightsaber from his waist and holding it out for me. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

  I stood up and walked over to the mech, and my fingers gently curled around the handle of my favorite weapon.

  "I've been ready ever since I detected your signatures." I ignited the azure blade, and gazed at it for a moment, before deactivating it and looking back at him.

  "Let's roll."

  —

  Providence-Class Dreadnought: The Finest Hour

  Bridge

  100 miles above the upper atmosphere of Mandalore

  "Rotate left by 2.38 degrees." Omen ordered.

  "Acknowledged." The ship replied.

  The entire vessel rotated slightly, and a potentially successful bombing run became a downed Y-wing as a point-defense turret tore the bomber in half.

  "Comms, what's the status of the rest of the fleet!" Omen demanded.

  "ETA seven minutes sir!" The Comms B1 reported.

  "Shields down to 72%!" Another B1 shouted out.

  "ETA on the other half of the Republic fleet?" Omen asked.

  "Unknown!"

  The reduced fleet had given the Republic one the slip at first by slowly moving the fleet further into the shadow of the moon, hiding their signatures. Then after half an hour, they slowly moved closer and hugged the atmosphere of the moon, and moved around the whole body, then rocketed down to Mandalore before the Republic ships knew what was happening.

  But before they could reestablish communications with the commando team, the rest of the GAR fleet that had remained at Mandalore itself appeared, and the fight quickly began after that. Now, just barely a hundred miles from the top layer of the atmosphere of Mandalore, the two fleets had become locked in combat. Both sides waiting for reinforcements that might be too late.

  "Watch for those Y-wings. They'll wreak havoc on our ships if they get too close." Omen ordered into the fleet-wide comm.

  The bright bolts of condensed tibanna rocketed through the vacuum, splashing against shielding. The CIS fleet had taken an interesting position. The Finest Hour was in the center, with all of the smaller escort ships circling around the larger vessel, creating a large, rotating halo of durasteel around her hull.

  The two Recusants had fallen back slightly and had moved to the Finest Hour's port and starboard sides. They were positioned above the main hangar entrances to catch any opportunistic fighters looking to 'spawncamp' as Blitzkrieg once put it, which honestly had a nice ring to it.

  "Sir, we have incoming signatures from Concordia." Sandi reported. "They're Republic."

  "Damn." Omen cursed. "The fleet must have called back their other half."

  The three Republic Venators screamed into the battle, taking up positions with the other two. Battlefield calculations just went from a sure win to something resembling a hollow victory. The turbolaser fire increased, and the shielding began to flare as it absorbed the brunt of the attacks. Another hundred starfighters streamed from their hangars, and the fighter battle became even more chaotic.

  "Escort craft, increase power to point defense weaponry. Stop those fighters from taking down our own." Omen ordered.

  The escort craft's point defense weaponry noticeably increased, and the volume of Republic fighters began to drop. Another bombing squadron suddenly dove past the bridge of the Finest Hour, with two of them quickly being knocked out

  "Recusant Shining Star here! Our shields just took a beating; we're down to twenty three percent!" The captain of the Recusant on the starboard side suddenly exclaimed.

  "Hold on, Shining Star." Omen replied. "Fall back to the rear and stay there. We need every vessel we have if we're to survive."

  "Yes sir. Moving now."

  The Recusant began to reverse, but then a squad of Y-wings appeared on its flank.

  "Shining Star, Y-Wings on your starboard side!" Omen instantly said into the comm.

  But it was too late.

  "Incoming torpe-"

  The hologram fizzled out as the bridge of the Shining Star was ripped apart by proton torpedoes. Then the bomber squadron came back around and launched another volley of torpedoes. This time, the resulting explosion ripped the entire ship in half.

  Omen's hands clenched into fists, and he watched helplessly as the Shining Star began to list towards the planet. He didn't even want to check the calculations for winning the battle now.

  "Admiral, I just managed to reestablish communications with the away team. They've got the General and he's armed." The Comms B1 reported. "But there's something weird going on in the prison. Those ships we saw go by a while ago were spotted near there."

  Omen's cooling fans kicked on as he let out a sigh of relief. "Then tell them to get themselves and the general back up here as soon as possible." He ordered.

  "Sir, we have hyperspace emergence!" Sandi suddenly exclaimed.

  "ID?"

  Sandi's voice was grim. "Republic."

  Omen's shoulders dropped. "The Republic Intelligence fleet is here."

  In the distance, behind the fleet, the Republic Intelligence fleet appeared. The new Tector-class ships were in the front, and they quickly sped towards the remaining fleet. Omen's optics widened behind their armored sheaths. The new ships were massive, at least 1600 meters long. They lacked the ventral hangar bay, and according to scans traded it for more armor. They were so long in fact, that they dwarfed even the Finest Hour's unique length.

  The Finest Hour had been previously torn in half in an explosion before coming under General Blitzkrieg's command. It was later rebuilt to 1200 meters long, with more point defense turrets and a larger main hangar, then sent to reinforce the Star Wreckers as its flagship. The Finest Hour was larger than a Venator by sixty-three meters, and now she was no longer the biggest thing around by four hundred meters.

  "Those are Tector-class Star Destroyers?" Omen asked.

  "Intel says they are, sir." The B1 at the Comms replied. "Kriff, look at the size of those things."

  In total, there were over twenty Republic made ships now above Mandalore. Way more than the Finest Hour and its small complement of destroyers and escorts could handle.

  "This is not good." Omen muttered.

  His fists tightened, and he stood up from the command chair. His servos whirred as his arms shook slightly.

  There was no conceivable way for them to win this battle. Not with their current composition of ships.

  They had lost.

  And now Omen was going to have to give the most difficult command he's ever given. He briefly offlined his optics, a sick feeling somehow churning in his processor. He onlined his optics again and prepared to give the order.

  But just as he was about to give the order to retreat, someone interrupted him.

  "Sir, another hyperspace emergence!" Sandi exclaimed

  Omen momentarily froze. Could it be?

  "ID?" Omen asked.

  After a few moments, Sandi raised her arms. "It's ours!" Sandi cheered. "The rest of the Star Wreckers are coming in!"

  Omen looked out the windows, and in the distance the forms of the rest of the fleet emerged, their Confederate livery shining in the Mandalorian sun.

  "This is Admiral Omen to all ships, get over here and reinforce us!" He ordered.

  A chorus of affirmatives was heard in reply, and the mass of CIS and three commandeered GAR ships rocketed toward them.

  "Now… Now we have a fighting chance." Omen mused.

  The space was suddenly filled with turbolaser bolts and screaming fighters, as the two massive fleets clashed against each other in a cacophony of tibanna and durasteel. It was chaos, but organized chaos, as war usually is.

  Omen gave commands, tightening formations and managing the battle. Scores of Vultures and Tri-fighters flew from hangars and joined the fight, filling the skies of Mandalore with burning wreckage as it rained down onto the planet below. Suddenly, one of the other B1 shouted.

  "We've been boarded! Rear starboard hangar is breached!"

  Omen immediately called up security cameras in the ship, dozens of clone troopers were leaping from LAATs and entering the ship. But one of the intruding ships was different from the others, and dislodged only four clones, which Omen spotted. He zoomed in on their armor, and if he had a heart, it would have stopped.

  "By the moons of Iego!" He shouted. "Clone Commandos!"