Star Wars: The Clone Wars Elements

Chapters

Prologue: Understanding
Chapter 1: Cold Landing
Chapter 2: Warm Reception
Chapter 3: Fast Reaction
Chapter 4: Strong Feelings
Chapter 5: Hot Wheels
Chapter 6: Explosive Exit
Chapter 7: All According to Plan
The Clone Wars Elements
Episode 2: Aggressive Reconaissance
Ep. 2 Ch. 2: With Precision
Ep. 2 Ch. 3: The Base
Ep. 2 Ch. 4: Reaction

Prologue: Understanding

"She's everything to me. She is- they are. I should be with them. I should never... I should never have..."

Anakin nodded. "We're doing everything we can." At the single utterance of those words, Shining Armor's head bolted upward. Anakin Skywalker tried to make his voice, his demeanor, even his presence in the Force as calm and reassuring as it could be. "We need you to focus. Right now, they need you. We all do."

Shining Armor nodded. He was fighting back an emotional storm just behind his eyes, bucking at them like a wave crashing against a door, beckoning them to start leaking. He was able to hold it back, for now.

Anakin put a hand on the pony's shoulder. "It's never easy, especially when it's those we care about."

"General..." Shining Armor said again, "She..."

Anakin nodded again, locking eyes with him. "I know, your highness. Believe me, I know exactly what you're going through. We'll get her back to you, no matter what." He turned and walked away, knowing there was nothing more he could say.

Anakin stepped into the room. "Alright, we know what the situation is. The royal family is being held hostage in the Crystal Palace. The entire city's been evacuated but some bizarre weather interference is preventing us from sending in gunships or even getting a good scan of the area. That is where you come in."

Captain Rex, the General's able clone adviser, practically spun on his heels as he turned to address them. If Anakin Skywalker was a swift blade, Captain Rex was a giant hammer.

"We're gonna smash our way right up to the heart of the city. Blast any clanker that gets in our way, turn whatever defenses they've got into rubble. These Seps are dug in, they're supplied and they will hit hard. So we will hit them harder," Rex said. The captain had the gift of straightening spines and stiffening resolve with words alone.

Finally, Ahsoka Tano, Anakin's Jedi padawan approached from the side. She stood in between her master and Rex. She was a small and young togruta, but with surprising skill... and a skill for surprise.

"As soon as the attack begins, a covert team will make our way into the city from the opposite side. Their goal will be to infiltrate the Crystal Palace and rescue the royal family being held hostage." Ahsoka was still a learner, but had a knack for outflanking the enemy and hitting them where they were weakest. She was also quite quick on her feet and highly adaptable, like her master, as well as aggressive on the offense and very sneaky. There was no doubt among the men that she was leading the infiltration team.

Rex nodded. "But you boys will be doing more than providing a diversion. The royal family are under heavy guard inside the Crystal Palace. As you penetrate the Separatists' defenses, you'll be creating the exit route for the rescue team. We can't use gunships, so we will be using speeders to get the team out quickly. I will be leading the ground assault with the five-oh-first. Our objectives will be to knock out power to defenses and any hardened anti-armor positions."

No one flinched at the sound of anti-armor. Long-range artillery, rocket droids, even landmines and the Separatists' expansive arsenal of droid tanks all posed a threat to the tankers' All-Terrain Tactical Enforcers. Nothing they hadn't seen before, nothing they hadn't all lost brothers to. They'd lock horns with anything if they had to for the Republic.

"You can expect a lot of those," Anakin said. "You men have the most important job of all- clearing the way. To get the hostages out as quickly as possible, we'll be using speeders to get them out. That path is going to have to be clear."

"You have your assignment," Rex bellowed, shouldering between Anakin and Ahsoka. "Now, get to your stations. Five-oh-first, prepare for combat!"

"Sir, yes sir!" was there unified response, a chorus combined into a single booming voice. The clones filed out as orderly and efficiently as could be expected from their years of drills and constant training. The soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic, brothers all, were in many ways more precise and disciplined in their actions than the droids they'd be facing.

Although they wouldn't just be facing droids. None of them knew that at the time. The hangar emptied quickly leaving only Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex. The doors opened from behind. Shining Armor quietly rejoined them.

"They'll get the job done, your highness," Skywalker said.

"I know," Shining said. "Because I'm coming with you."

"Your highness, sir..." Rex and the others began. But Prince Shining Armor would have none of it.

"Your planning on sneaking into the Crystal Palace? Well, you'll need somepony that knows the in's and out's. I know that palace better than anypony else," Shining said, voice full of confidence. "I want to be on the infiltration team."

"Prince Armor, we understand you're wanting to help, but it's very dangerous," Ahsoka said. "You should really-"

Let us handle it was what she was about to say. But she never got the chance. Anakin stepped forward and said, "Alright."

"Master?"
"Sir?"

"He's right- no one else knows the Crystal Palace better than him. And time will be of the essence. The best chance of getting them out safely and fast is to have him come with us," Anakin said.

"I... but, I already have my team picked out," Ahsoka protested. "Ply, Stock, Skifter and Slide and me."

"And Shining Armor," Skywalker added, also a way of confirming his order. "He'll be added to the team."

"We'll get you suited up, sir. Follow me," Rex said. Less insubordinate than Ahsoka, Rex wasn't just blindly loyal; he knew there was a reason Skywalker did things his way. His methods weren't always clear, but the clone captain had long ago learned to accept his reasoning. He led Shining Armor out of the hangar and to the armory to get him kitted for the mission.

Ahsoka had already folded her arms. Her mission just got more difficult. You didn't have to be a Jedi to know what was on her mind.

"Snips, I know what you're going to say."

"No, you're right," she said, mock-throwing her hands up. "He'll probably know a secret passage or something right into the center of the palace."

"That does tend to be the case with royalty."

"And what if he leads us right into a trap? Master, we've already planned our route into AND out of the palace. This decision doesn't make sense- he's not a soldier."

Anakin looked over his shoulder. "He was. More than that, he is a husband. And a father," he said, his voice sounding heavy. "Telling him he couldn't do this would be..." He stopped. Padme came to mind, his own wife. She'd been in danger before and he'd been unable to help her right away. He knew that feeling. Even then, it was too overwhelming to deal with so he pushed aside, focused on the mission. "It's better this way. For him and for us."

The slightest tinge of pain from that feeling, the thought of being unable to help Padme, it welled up in Anakin but didn't quite surface. Still, it was powerful enough in the Force for Ahsoka to just barely feel it, like a fish moving underneath the surface of a vast lake. It didn't break the surface, but it bubbled up just a bit. Ahsoka didn't think much of it; to her, it was just a strong emotion. She could have had no idea it was linked to someone else she knew.

"I understand, Skyguy."

"Uh-uh," Skywalker stopped her. "While we're on deck."

"Yes, master."

"There we go. Let's hope Admiral Yularen hasn't drank all the caf again."

"Or eaten all the meat rolls," Ahsoka added.

Anakin shrugged. "Actually, that was me last time."

"Figures. Master."

The trio of Venators that made up the Republic task force cruised toward Equestria at a slow speed, the R.A.S. Arbitrator in the lead. There were a couple of reasons for this: one, to not appear aggressive and two, to keep active scanning. The ships moved at a slow but steady speed, keeping up regular scans, collecting all sensor data after each sweep and analyzing it. All very precise, steady and methodical, like the Grand Army of the Republic itself.

As they got to a certain point, their hangar doors on their dorsal prows opened. Starfighters, gunships and shuttles launched rapidly from each of the three vessels, streaming towards the planet. Nothing but empty space between them and the bright orb of the Far Rim World.

Payday and Archer Squadron were some of the first out. He flew his BTL-B Y-Wing squadron in a tight but smooth formation, heading straight for the planet.

"Keep it close but loose, boys. Close but loose," Payday said. He pulled up on the controls, rising a bit and then leveled out to stay even with Equestria's equator.

All was quiet. Peaceful. For a few brief moments, his squadron circled the deploying gunships as they made their way to Equestria like migrating birds.

And then came the ping.

"Separatist contact! Northern hemisphere, contact active!"

Payday grinned. Those quiet moments didn't last long, usually. It was time to get to work once again.

He gunned his ship and banked sharply towards the planet, racing back over the LAAT/i and LAAT/cs deploying.

"Archer Squadron, form up! Our tanks are gonna have their work cut out for them today. Let's make their job easier before they land, boys!"

The bombers and gunships broke through Equestria's atmosphere like arrows. The Republic operations had begun.

Author's Note

This is for fans of the Clone Wars show like myself.

Chapter 1: Cold Landing

The skies were dark over the Crystal Empire, as if a grey blanket hung between the sparkling city and the stars above. The sun broke through the clouds briefly, letting light peak through to the surface for a scant few moments before closing again. From the city limits, it could have been a flight of birds or just a random break in the weather activity, any number of things. But very quickly, it became all too clear what broke through the cloud layer: Republic gunships.

Three-dozen Republic LAAT/i and an equal number of LAAT/c gunships descended on the grassy, rolling hills outside the city like a flock of hunting birds. They flew low, so low that the slightest change in pitch or yaw would see any one of the craft caught by the ground and sent tumbling into the dirt. Or, into each other. The clone pilots were good; they had to be if they wanted their crews and themselves to survive.

"Landing zone in forty-five seconds!"

"What's the weather like, Brick?"

"Ice-cold and dry. Might wanna huddle up for warmth on this one."

"I think we're bringing all the heat we need with us," Mash said. He fired up the generators on the AT-TE and brought all the systems online. He could already hear the auto-loader bring up the first of their shells into the mass-driver cannon, meaning Banger was getting started early, too. Multiple other AT-TEs and their crews were doing just the same as them in their formation. Together, they formed an armored column that would indeed be bringing plenty of heat upon landing.

"Twenty-seconds!"

The gunships sped towards the city. The crystalline buildings and roads would have shimmered in the sunlight if any could reach the surface. Just as the outskirts came into focus, the gunships came under fire.

"Contact! Contact front!"

Bursts of purple exploded just above the gunship formation. They were low but not low enough to evade the ground fire coming from the city, so the pilots broke formation.

A group of Y-Wings came in from the west. Sleek and precise, they were as low as the gunships but pulled up at the last second, flying up and over the rooftops. Slews of orbs were flung from the bombers' bays, raining down into the streets of the outer city. The exploded in massive balls of blue energy, ion wash, they called it. The bombing was designed to damage droids and machinery without harming organic life or much of the buildings, but it wrecked havoc on electrical systems.

Even from where he was seated, Mash could make out the popping bursts of street lamps and neon signs from the ion bombs. Traffic signals could be rebuilt, though. A pair of AATs burst out from behind a building, their engines overloaded from the ion bombs. One flipped and the other spun until it crashed into a building.Two less for us to worry about, Mash thought.

"In five!"

The gunships came to a sudden stop, their forward thrusters reversing. They descended quickly, with the LAAT/i's touching the ground and their side doors opening. The moment the doors opened, the white-armored clone troopers deployed, charging into battle.

But not Mash. His walker landed ahead of the troopers, with his bird never touching the ground. At the end of the five-count, he felt the sensation of weightlessness just before his walker hit the ground. The six heavy feet of the armored, walking vehicle landed, leg hydraulics jostling only a moment from the shock. Controls tight in his hands, Mash threw the drive lever and the walker started moving forward.

"Weapons hot, boys! Let 'em have it!" Mash ordered. Banger had already loaded the first shell into the main mass driver cannon on top of the walker's front section. Mash had barely uttered the order and Banger had already fired. The recoil from the shot was barely a nudge through the walker, perfectly absorbed by the vehicle's construction. Rothana Heavy Engineering knew their stuff. The AT-TE was on the ground and firing, with the rest of her sisters joining in.

Mash's walker was part of a platoon of forty walkers, the GAR's 42nd Armored Division. Operations like these were nothing new for these men. Unlike their foot soldier brothers, the clones of the walker group were trained to master the machines they used. They were all clones in the Grand Army of the Republic, bred for combat and war, to serve the Republic with unity and lethal precision. They were bringing that lethal precision down on the Separatists now.

Time to join the fun.

The rangefinder in his cockpit highlighted groups of droids ahead of him. Mash had control over the walker's laser cannons, mounted in a group of four around the walker's cockpit. Gripping the controls tightly, he squeezed the triggers and unleashed a quad-barrage of laser fire right at his targets.

The blue bolts cut over the heads of the clone troopers in front of him. They collided with the Super Battle Droids he had aimed at, vaporizing the blue, bulky clankers in an instant. Six were completely blown to pieces while a further four suffered melting burns to their chassis, thrown aside like tin cans. Mash fired another quick blast from all four of his cannons, then another before his cannons went on their cool-down cycle.

About thirty or so droids were destroyed by the AT-TE's blasts. A CIS Ground Armored Tank, or GAT, was caught by the last group of lasers and destroyed. A lighter tank, two of the laser bolts had been enough to pierce its armor while the last two struck its power core, causing it to overload and explode. From just squeezing the triggers a total of three times in the space of just as many seconds, the road between Mash's walker and the CIS was now covered in blackened streaks and burnt droid parts.

Just beyond where the GAT had been, more droids were marching towards the clones to fill the gap. Only another quadrillion to go, Mash thought to himself.

"Gonna be a busy day, eh Mash?"

"Seems like a safe bet. We still getting support from Payday's group?"

"Busy with droid fighters for the time being but they should be back soon."

Mash nodded. Payday was one of the Y-Wing bomber pilots, the leader of Archer Squadron. He and his squad were good at what they did, both strategic bombing and even dogfighting. The air support should return quickly, then. Mash had a feeling they would need it.

"Unit four, seven and eight, move up the road. Gunners, I want your heads on a swivel. Provide cover for our boys."

"Unit four acknowledged," Mash said. He pushed both levers forward and the massive walker began plodding ahead. AT-TEs were heavy, supported by six massive short legs. Bit of a bouncy ride even with the hydraulic compensators but Mash and his crew were used to it. His walker took point while Unit Seven and Eight formed on his flanks. Together, the walkers lumbered and fired, unleashing blast after blast at the droid forces in front of them.

"Keep advancing! Move!" The clone troopers around them continued surging forward. They could use the walkers' legs and bulky armored bodies as cover for a good distance but after that, they had to find cover of their own. But they had to keep pushing forward; momentum in an attack was nearly everything.

The droids of the Confederacy of Independent Systems were not so creative. But what they lacked in intelligence, they made up for with sheer numbers and volume. Legions of tan B1 battle droids marched towards the clones, directly into enemy fire. The droids in the back of the formation fired suppressing volleys when they had an opening while the ones at the front of the formation fired the moment targets were in range. Otherwise, the column of droids just marched.

The clones at the front of the formation took cover and opened fire, letting the droids come to them. By switching positions and taking cover when the droids targeted them individually, the troopers could take down wave after wave of droids. They could use grenades, mines, traps and the environment to their advantage- clones were trained to be adaptable. All the droids did was aim, shoot and march in one order or another- all they were programmed to do.

"Incoming armor!"

"Enemy armor- watch the buildings!"

Dwarf Spider Droids, not limited by the need for flat or stable terrain, climbed over the buildings just across the bridge. They were four-legged walking droids with cannons mounted on their 'faces' that made them look like some sort of squat, overgrown walking mosquitos. The rounds they fired weren't as powerful as some of the other CIS munitions but they could be trouble for the AT-TEs and definitely the ground troops if they concentrated their fire. And they always did.

"Firing!" Banger opened up on the closest one with the mass driver. A huge round shot from the AT-TE's main cannon and smacked a spider on the roof of one of the buildings. It exploded, taking the dwarf spider with it and dislodging one of the spiders clinging to the building's side. The shot did only minor damage to the building; they were there to take out the Seps, not the locals' homes and businesses. Still, this operation was likely to incur a lot of collateral damage, precision or no.

A pair of rockets fired from the troopers took out the other two spider droids. The column kept advancing. Mash knew that the most important thing for him to do at that moment was to keep the AT-TE moving. A tank that didn't move on the battlefield was a dead tank.

"More armor, incoming!"
"AATs!"

Finally, the AATs- Armored Assault Tanks, showed up. It was just the Confederates' style to hold back their heavier armor, let the lighter droids wear the clones down and then send in the big guns.

"Archer's got this one, boys. Hang back a sec."

Not sooner had Payday's voice come through the comms did the Y-Wings appear overhead. A staggered-line formation, they flew parallel with the street, directly above it, low, and dropped their bombs right on top of the CIS tanks. A few of the droids had time to look up before the proton bombs hit and obliterated them. The bombs hit each of the tanks directly, blowing them to pieces. The bombers' had to be as precise as the gunners on the tanks; if they hit the street, it could knock the repulsors on the tanks and send them into the buildings.

The enemy armor column was reduced to smoldering wrecks instantly. The Y-Wing squadron vaporized them all in one pass, then pulled back into the skies.

"Nice one, Archer Squadron. We'll mop up the rest."

Mash liked Brick and Payday. It was Archer Squadron's reconnaissance flight that had discovered a CIS shipyard in this sector and the subsequent plan from Jedi Master Kentan Krace that had destroyed it. Ever since then, they had been busy, trying to root out a Separatist occupation from a star system that wasn't even on the charts yet.

Or maybe it had been. And was erased.

"We're halfway to the objective, boys, stay alert!"

They were advancing quickly. Mash could make out the base of the Crystal Palace from his viewport. A huge structure, it dominated the center of the city and stretched up to the sky. It reminded Mash of Christophsis, as did the tactics they were using. The skies were still dark and gray over the Empire. Hopefully that made the infiltration team's job easier.

"Any sign of the locals, Bang?"

"Not so far, Mash."

A cold feeling was beginning to settle in to Mash's stomach. The kind of gnawing, unsettling feeling that accompanied the thought that "This was too easy. It's all going too easy." It was at this time he spotted flickers of color amidst the backdrop of the grey skies. Tiny glints darted overhead, far out of range. Not starfighters or airspeeders of any kind, no; the figures he spied were much smaller than that.

"Eyes on unknown airbornes. Looks to be the locals."

"Confirmed: crystal pegasi, one o'clock high."

A trio of crystal ponies flew high above the battlefield. It was dangerous for them to be there; wayward shots and the few droid starfighters the Y-Wings were hunting down still made this area unsafe. All the crystal ponies evacuated, or so the Republic had been told, but that didn't mean some wouldn't still be around. Either way, it only added to Mash's discomfort.

Something was wrong. He keyed his comms.

"Bracket, Washer, spread out."

"What's wrong, Mash?"
"Washer to Mash: no room, sergeant."

"Just hang back, then," Mash ordered. He wasn't the leader of the column but he still outranked the two tank commanders behind him. Still, this wasn't about rank. Until the column leader's voice came over the comms.

"Zeta-Four, why are you stopping? Keep your walker moving, Mash."

"Mash, come on! We gotta go!" Banger said.

Mash felt the controls tight in his grip. Under his armored gauntlets, his palms were dripping in cold sweat. "I just..."

*BRAAMM!*

A bright streak appeared in the sky directly ahead. Mash had just enough time to shift his walker sideways, making the AT-TE crabwalk.

"Mortars! Mortars, incoming!"
"Take cover!!"

Explosions consumed the road ahead of him. Outside his viewport, he saw the first half of the column, the other walker directly ahead of him before it was engulfed in fire and smoke. White-armored bodies were flung like ragdolls into the air, tossed about while others scrambled desperately for cover. Two buildings in front of his walker exploded into bits.

He gripped the controls and pulled his walker so hard to the right that he was leaning into it. Cold sweat trickled down his back underneath his armor, underneath his jumpsuit as the seconds between him and the mortar that would take him and his walker out dragged into eternity. Every heartbeat felt like another moment. He couldn't even see anything out of the cabin; smoke and fire had consumed the land around the AT-TE.

Instinct took over and he switched through modes in his visor. Low-light mode, tactical, nothing. Not surprising; the smoke was just too thick.

"Banger, you there? Bang?"

No answer. Outside, B1 Battle Droids began marching on their position, walking through the fragmented rubble and burnt bits of the AT-TE in front of them.

Payday saw the mortars launched but didn't see them land. He didn't need to- his inflight computer told him what happened. Half of Zeta Squadron's transponders were red instead of green, and all the others were yellow.

"Archer-One to Arbitrator, come in. Possible local cooperation with the Confederacy." Static answered his comms. "Arbitrator, come in. This is Archer Leader to Republic command, do you copy?"

A voice did come back on his comms, but not one he was expecting. "Incoming fighters!" Once again, he didn't need the notification to tell him. His screen lit up red, as the clouded sky outside his viewport. Droid tri-fighters engaged his squadron.

Chapter 2: Warm Reception

The B1 Battle Droid was not designed to think for itself. It wasn't programmed to think at all, which was sometimes a bit of a disappointment to the pilot B1 Battle Droid designated Unit 74809J. Although he wasn't programmed to think, he sometimes did, and sometimes would tap along to the music the admiral played from time to time. It earned him the nickname "Taps."

Taps thought that it would be nice to think independently. The crystal ponies seemed to do so, which is why some of them had decided to join the Confederacy rather than the Republic. He thought that was pretty neat, and sort-of wished battle droids had been designed the same way. But would they join the Republic, he wondered? Probably not. The Confederacy of Independent Systems was way better, and it made them, after all.

He watched, unlike all the other battle droids as the crystal ponies took to the sky. Then, as they flew beyond the range of his visual receptors, he boarded his MAF, or Mechanized Assault Flyer, recently painted with blue livery and emblazoned with the CIS insignia, and took to the skies himself. The rest of the MAFs in his squadron rose up as well, and together they flew in formation to the battle. The time for pondering was before and after battle, not during.

R.A.S. Arbitrator, port hangar bay
In low orbit above Equestria

"You've done this before... right?" Ahsoka asked.

"Once. In a simulation," Master Krace replied. "Roughly an hour ago."

"An hour ago?" She looked over at him.

"Relax, padawan," Anakin said, voice cool and even. "Calm your mind."

"I'm calm," Ahsoka said, though both she and Anakin could feel she was feeling nervous. "I'd be a lot calmer if I had been invited along to the simulation."

"There's not really much to it. We're jumping out of a cruiser into hostile territory. The simulation didn't even take the weather into account," Captain Rex said.

Ahsoka leaned forward to look at Rex. "So you were in this simulation, too?"

"I wasn't, if that makes you feel better," Anakin said.

"It doesn't. It really doesn't. This is reckless, you know that, right? That's what Master Obi-Wan would say."

Would he? Anakin was beginning to wonder. Training his own padawan, he couldn't help but feel like he must be going through what his own master went through from time to time. Obi-Wan was a good master, but privately, Anakin hadn't felt he was really a great teacher. He couldn't remember anything beyond the basic lessons he kept spouting... and now, he found himself spouting those same lessons. So did that make him a great teacher or not?

"Focus on the present," Anakin said, something else Obi-Wan would have said. It was also likely Qui-Gon would've said that, too. "We have a job to do."

Shining Armor finally joined them. He was wearing an environmental suit, like the rest of them, just one modified for a pony.

"Are you sure you want to come along with us, your highness?" Master Kent asked.

"Yes," the prince said firmly. He stared out the hangar bay, past the shimmering wall of the magnetic containment or magcon field into space. His world, Equestria rose to eclipse half the starfield as the Venator angled itself properly for the maneuver. It was clear Shining Armor's mind was on only one thing.

Anakin didn't ask anything further. He knew already what the prince was going through, knew it all too well. Master Krace asking made it clear, as Anakin knew, that the other Jedi Master did not understand. How could he? He spent almost his entire life as a Jedi and swore off attachment of any romantic kind long ago, before Anakin was even born. Ahsoka was too young, possibly on the road to a similar situation and Rex was focused on the mission.

No, Anakin was the only one among them who could have understood. He wondered, as he did sometimes, how Ahsoka would react if she knew about Padme. Part of him wanted to go back to the lake country on Naboo, where no one else went, secluded from the galaxy and away from the war. Just him and Padme alone among the cool breezes, clear waters and green fields. But then, there were more folks out there like Shining Armor who needed him to stand. He did this for them. He did this for all of them, himself and her included.

"Infiltration team is ready," Kent announced. "Begin launch sequence."

"Launch sequence?" Ahsoka asked. "What does he-"

"Get ready, snips, here it comes."

It was then Ahsoka finally put things together. There were no ships in the hangar currently- there was just them, the empty hangar and the magcon field generator. And Equestria right in front of them.

"Oh no."

"Decompression in five..."
"...four..."
"...three..."
"...two..."

"Brace yourselves!"

"...one..."

The magcon field disappeared. All five of them were blasted out of the hangar directly at Equestria.

Ahsoka didn't know if it was the sheer velocity or the cloud layer, but for the first few seconds after being shot out of the hangar, she couldn't see a thing. Her helmeted head was buffeted but stayed mostly centered, forces unseen at speeds too high to calculate whipping past her. She and the rest of the team were racing into Equestria's atmosphere like bullets.

"Calm yourself, padawan."

"I-I-I'm... c-calm," Ahsoka said, trying to sound as calm as she could. More than she actually felt.

Finally, they punched through the cloud layer and Equestria came into view.

"Trajectory is good. No need to adjust," Kent's voice said. He was in the lead, Rex and Anakin close behind him, Shining Armor between them both.

Sprawling out far beneath them was the glittering Crystal Empire. Some of the buildings shimmered, sticking out of the ground like enormous crystal stalagmites. It was quite beautiful, Ahsoka thought, almost like the naturally-occurring crystal deposits in the caves of Ilum, different colors and clusters all arrayed before her.

The largest one, of course, was the Crystal Palace. It was also their target, and it dominated the landscape and their view as they descended.

Flashes of fire and trails of smoke rose from the southern part of the massive city-state. Zeta Squadron and the clone troopers were doing their job. A bit north and in the sky above were the Y-Wings of Archer Squadron engaging the few Vulture droids that remained.

"Looks like the tanks are doing their job. They're on schedule." That was Rex's voice. He was good at keeping tracking of things and being aware of details. Whether it was because he was a clone or not was unknown; he was invaluable to the team and to Anakin either way.

"Target is coming up."

They slowed their descent as they approached the palace, using their limbs as air brakes. Slower, slower, slow enough as they fell. Then, one by one, they deployed their chutes. By the time they did, it was only moments before they were level with the top of the palace.

"Jedi precision," commented Rex.

"On me." Kent found their insertion point, grabbing on to the side of the palace. His gauntlets and boots had special spikes, known to clone troopers as "spider gear" but it was actually based on Jango Fett's armor. It was one of the many things the bounty hunter had personally integrated into specialized types of armor during his time on Kamino.

Kent's chute retracted into its pack seamlessly. Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex and Shining joined him as he cut a hole through the walls to the palace with is lightsaber. They couldn't use jetpacks, jet boots, fusion cutters or anything that would possibly trigger the Separatist sensors. Lightsabers, fortunately, were not easily detectable by the droids.

"We're near the observatory. It should be, uh... above us," Shining Armor remarked. He looked around, getting his bearings. It was his first time entering the Crystal Palace from a heist-style hole in the wall and, to be honest, he didn't go to the upper levels very often. Once or twice to get decorations for Hearth's Warming was about it.

"Observatory's a good place for a command post," Kent said.

Shining spun around. "We're here for my family." His voice made it clear he didn't want to waste another moment, regardless of how important a target it might be. Even if it helped the mission, he wanted to see Cadence and he wanted to see her now. Once again, Anakin fully understood.

"Master Krace, you can check it out. Ahsoka, Rex and I will go with Shining."

"As you say," Kent said, before turning to depart.

Shining Armor locked eyes with Anakin for a moment. "Thank you." Anakin said nothing, just nodded, and they descended to the lower levels together silently.

The spiral staircase down to the lower levels of the Crystal Palace seemed to go on forever. The palace was divided into three sections: the upper section was space for the observatory and storage, the middle section was the quarters for the royal family and royal guards and the base housed larger rooms for gatherings, ceremonies and the throne room.

Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex each had different thoughts about the Crystal Palace. Ahsoka still marveled at the palace's beauty and how the colors were different shades and combinations on each floor. Anakin wondered what would happen if the Separatists continued their occupation of the Empire, what they could do with these kinds of crystals... and why they came here specifically in the first place. Rex usually considered things from a tactical perspective, and did think about what kind of cover these crystals might offer the droids, and what sort of explosives might cut through them. He also thought to himself, How did they even build something like this? They didn't dig this whole thing out of the ground this way, did they?

After what seemed like more flights of stairs than should have been necessary, they reached their destination. The throne room was in the center of the palace base, situated at the core of the palace itself. Directly underneath the base and the Crystal Palace was the Crystal Altar and the pedestal where the Crystal Heart was kept.

"It's right behind here," Shining said, steel in his voice.

"You're certain the hostages are held here? In the throne room?" Ahsoka asked.

Shining nodded. "The place has many hidden passages. This is one of the only rooms where it would be easy to keep an eye on prisoners."

Anakin nodded. "Alright then. Rex, cover the prince."

"On it." The clone captain drew his blasters.

"Padawan." Anakin glanced at Ahsoka. Both of them activated their lightsabers at almost the same time. "Let's make this quick."

They carved their way through the wall to the throne room. The exit to the throne room was on either side of the wall they were cutting through, but Anakin wanted a clear path. He also knew that obvious routes were more predictable places for traps. Best to make your own. That, and it was something he enjoyed doing.

They cut through the walls. Two holes appeared, and the sections cut from them fell to the ground inside the throne room with a dull thud. Thankfully, the walls were thick enough that they didn't shatter. Anakin and Ahsoka stepped through, sabers held in a defensive stance. Droids tended to shoot at any anomaly they detected.

But the room was empty. No droids, no hostages, nothing. Rex and Shining Armor stepped through a split second later.

"I'm not picking up anything. No movement, no thermals," Captain Rex said.

Anakin kept his lightsaber up. "Stay alert. Prince Shining?"

Shining Armor backed away. "I..."

*clap *clap* *clap*

"Oh, I don't like that sound," Ahsoka said.

In the middle of the throne room were two thrones. Simple, high, elegant chairs of crystal. One of them turned around.

"Well now. You certainly do now how to make an entrance."

"Who is that?" Ahsoka asked. But Anakin already had an idea.

Atop the throne was a Sullustan, a mouse-like alien race with large ears known for their keen navigational skills. This particular Sullustan wore long-sleeved shirt under colorful robes with no sleeves and the hood folded down. He also wore a tinted visor on his forehead just above his eyes.

"Dua Ningo, baby," the Sullustan said. "Admiral Dua Ningo... of the Confederacy of Independent blah-blah-whatever. Took you Republic turkeys long enough to find out what was goin' on in this corner of the galaxy. Not used ta bein' this close to nature, are ya?"

Anakin gripped his saber tightly but didn't move. "Admiral Ningo... you're supposed to be dead. Captain Dodonna and Screed destroyed your fleet over Anaxes."

Admiral Ningo shrugged. With a grin he said, "Well, as they like ta say, news of my death has been a-greatly ezaggerated." The Sullustan talked, looked and clearly dressed like some kind of beatnik. He would have fit in perfectly with Jedi Master Djinn Altis and his group of hippy Jedi, but Dua Ningo was no fan of Jedi or the Republic. Ningo's accent sounded like something from the bayous of southern Equestria to Shining's ears, like New Horseleans.

"Where are the hostages?"

"Oh, they're safe, don't you worry." Ningo smiled and added, "You'll be joining them quite soon."

And that was when they heard the droidekas. From both sides of the front of the throne room, six droidekas, droids that rolled and then deployed three legs and two arms with dual blasters alongside a powerful shield generator, rolled right up to them and deployed. From behind the thrones, commando droids fanned outward and took aim at Skywalker and his group. Finally, two more commando droids popped in through the holes Anakin and Ahsoka had just made... along with two more droidekas that came around from the other side of the wall.

After all that, there was still yet another surprise the CIS had for the Republic.

The other throne flipped around revealing an armored figure, one Anakin actually new before. That fact alone, this final revelation caused Anakin to briefly waiver from his guard, if only briefly.

"No..."

"Allow me ta introduce Mista Cydon Prax. But of course, I believe you and uh, Mista Jivewalker are already acquainted, so ta speak."

Cydon aimed his blaster casually at the group. "Not officially. But he does owe me a tank."

"You," Anakin said, more an accusation than statement, "You're supposed to be dead. On Thule."

Cydon shrugged. "Yes, well, as they like to say-"

"News of my death has been greatly exaggerated, yeah, we get it," Ahsoka finished for him.

To say Dua Ningo was prepared would be an understatement.

"Y'all put those glow sticks down nice and easy, now. We don't need ta make a mess a things."

"What are you even doing here? We blew up your shipyard in this sector already."

"Heh heh heh, didja now? All you turkeys did was take out our little side hustle. The real game's been going on here for quite some time now," Ningo said. He leaned to the side, looking past Anakin and Ahsoka at one person in particular. "Ain't that right, yo highness?"

Shining Armor stepped forward, and a sly smile slowly formed on his face as he walked casually past Anakin and Ahsoka. He joined Dua and Cydon, and turned around to face them. And his eyes were glowing an eerie green.

"I have a feeling... that's not Prince Shining Armor," Rex said.

"It never was," Anakin added. Only just now did they fathom the depth of the trap they had just walked into.

The form of Shining Armor melted away into green flames that rose from the ground to engulf his body. In his place was a new form, that of a taller, slender black insect-like pony with a bluish-green mane, bug-like wings and holes in her limbs.

"Welcome to the Crystal Empire," Queen Chrysalis said coolly. "Under new management."

Chapter 3: Fast Reaction

Mash's ears eventually stopped ringing. A mortar must've exploded just next to them, right where the walker had been on the road. Quick review of the diagnostic displays showed no critical damage, but the legs were drawing increased power.

Outside his viewport was just more smoke and flames. But through the smoke he saw the distinctive movement of battle droids. The B1s weren't marching, but scouting through the rubble, checking to see if any of the clones were still alive. Any that were found alive would be executed on the spot. And they were making their way towards him.

Instinctively, he powered off the walker. The walker's legs lowered its body, the gears retracting the limbs into the body of the tank. He climbed out of his chair and made his way back into the interior.

"Bang, you there? Beans?"

"We're here, Mash," Beans said. He was the tail gunner and sensor operator for the walker.

"Barely," Banger said. He was hanging off Beans, his armor scuffed and blackened a bit. "Just made it in before the second mortar hit. Barely missed the left-center leg."

"I powered down the walker. Droids are closing in." They had to speak fast and act even faster. Not that there was much the three of them could do. They needed options.

"So what? We grab some blasters, try to shoot our way out?" Beans asked.

"Nah. The ammo," Mash said. He slumped down in a jump seat and took off his helmet. Sweat dripped down his face. "You guys make a run for it. I'll... I'll stay back here. Set off the rest of the mass driver rounds. Blow 'em all to hell."

Mash gave a grin smirk, completely obscured by his helmet. "Negative, trooper. No glorious sacrifices today." There was no guarantee a plan like that would even work. Droids were crawling all over the city. Even if detonating the walker took out a squad of them, they were still in hostile territory.

"Well, what're we gonna do, then? Comms aren't working and we don't even have a landing zone," Beans protested.

Mash nodded. "Orbital comms are down but local are still working."

"So, what? We signal Brick for a pick up?"

And there was the idea. "No. A drop off."

"Drop off what?"

Mash keyed his comms. "Zeta-Four to Lambda-Four. Brick, you there?"

"Copy, Mash, go ahead."

"Brick, we've got droids everywhere down here and the column is out of action. Zeta-One is down, repeat, down."

"What's your location? I'll pull you out."

"Negative, air's too hot. Need you to drop equipment at the following coordinates."

"Equipment? What do you mean?"

Banger and Beans both looked at Mash but said nothing. They stared at him, expressions somewhere between concerned and convinced he was outright crazy.

"Get back to the Resolute and get the new heavy assault vehicle. Drop it south of the city at the RV point."

"You mean the prototype? I'm gonna need the heavy gear to get that."

"Then get it," Mash said. "And hurry." He cut the comms and moved to the back of the cabin. Beans and Banger followed him, the latter steadying himself on the bulkhead as he did.

The standard All-Terrain Tactical Enforcer's interior was divided into three sections: the front cabin where the crew and troops were stationed, the gangway in the middle with the boarding hatches and the rear cabin. They made their way to the rear cabin where the cargo was located. Cargo was simple and included spare blasters, additional ammo for said blasters, two unassembled E-web blaster cannons(with extra-cushiony chairs) and the reason they came here.

"Mash, that's not a good idea. That model's a death trap."

"Not any more," Banger interjected. "I modified it. Replaced the accelerator with a new one off a BARC."

Both Mash and Beans turned to him. "Why exactly did you feel the need to replace the accelerator?"

Banger smiled. "Because they explode! I wanted to see if it would work as a makeshift demolition round. Thing's are volatile and unstable, they blow up if you barely touch 'em. And to answer your next question, better than expected."

"What the hell was the next question?"

"We don't have time to debate." He grabbed the speeder bike, forcing Beans and Banger to grab it as well. They sat it down on the back deployable ramp of the walker. "Besides, you're going to hate the next part."

"Why? What's the next part?"

"Have fun, boys! Make sure to clench your jaw good'n tight!"

The walker lowered its rear hatch. Out shot Mash and Beans on the speeder bike. In order to counterbalance the unstable repulsorlift stabilizers(really a bad design if the stabilizers are unstable), Beans had to be the counterweight. Meaning he had to sit behind Mash and hold onto him for dear life.

Mash gunned the bike's thrusters again, shooting them down the street in a burst of speed. The few droids that saw them whizz past barely had time to process that they'd seen anything before they were already past them. They didn't react quickly enough to register that they were clones on a speeder bike, or to shoot them thankfully. Their only problem was if STAPs showed up, a tank blocked their path or the droid starfighters above decided to swoop down for a shot at them.

But something did decide to occupy the street directly in front of them.

"Are those Crab Droids?"

Yes, they were Crab Droids. Oddly enough, they were adorned with crystals, gems and jewels of various kinds, so much so Mash could see them shimmering in the distance seconds before they were upon them.

To their credit, the Crab Droids noticed the clones.

"Brrep?"
"Brepp-brepp."
"Kttrrrrkrrrbrrrbrrrm."
"Brepp-brepp-brepp?"
"Brrrrrbb-brrlll-brrrrpp-brrrrp."

Whatever conversation the bejeweled Crabs had didn't lead them to pursue the speeder. They were getting closer now to the edge of the city. And that was when the tri-fighters decided to take notice of them.

*Skew-skiskew-ski-skewskewskew!!*

Lasers from the needle-nose blaster of the droid tri-fighter ripped holes into the street near the speeder.

"Gaaah!" Beans grabbed Mash tight as Mash nearly rolled the speeder bike. They survived the first pass, barely, and were still speeding down the street. High above, the droid tri-fighter was already banking, this time coming at them head-on. The odds of them surviving another round were not something Mash wanted to calculate.

As fate would have it, he wouldn't get the chance.

Payday had been bred and trained to be a pilot. Destroying the squadron of patrolling Vulture Droids had been easy. The standard CIS droid starfighters were meant to swarm opponents, not use squad tactics. Archer Squadron had flown in, destroyed half of the Vultures head-on while their gunners had taken out the few that survived to bank around and pursue them. Then, it had been an easy mop-up of the rest by just hunting them down and blasting them. Their programming prevented them from fleeing; securing the Crystal Empire's airspace had taken a couple of minutes.

Then, the Droid Tri-Fighters showed up.

Of course, the Seps had been holding them back. They liked holding the best stuff in reserve. It was a good strategy that worked out for them often, one that the Republic hated. Same as with their tanks and droids on the ground, they used their basic, cheap fighters to wear them out or lure them into a false sense of security, then send in the elites.

"Dive, Archers, dive, dive!!" He shouted the order into his comms even while pushing forward and turning the yolk. His Y-Wing quickly rotated ninety degrees and dove, knifing through the air and down to the ground. It was risky at such low altitude but necessary. In a fraction of a second, Payday's view changed from sky to the rooftops of buildings as his nosedive took him right towards them. He turned and yanked back the yolk again, cut the main engines and went straight to repulsorlift.

Red streaks blasted the rooftops of the buildings he'd just seen, sending a cloud of debris into the air. Three tri-fighters blazed past overhead, flying low enough to blow back the dust cloud with their thrusters.

Payday was alive. "Leader to squad, acknowledge."

Twelve green acknowledgement lights glowed back at him. He exhaled. The squadron was alive, against all odds. Thanks to their training, drills, and extra drills and training, they were alive. But for how long was up to him. They had all mirrored his maneuver, getting as low as possible and cutting the engines to just hover. They were barely a few feet off the ground, on repulsorlifts.

"Leader to two, what's your status? You copy, Stacks?"

"I'm green, Payd. I think I'm in a park."

"Eight to squad, I'm tracking the Tri's now. I don't think they can see us."

"Good," he said. Then he switched his commlink to check on his gunner. "You there, Spray?"

"I'm here." Payday and Spray, they made a good team. "Nearly broke my spine with that dive, but I'm alright."

"You'll be fine. You got eyes on those tri's up there?"

"Not tracking any- wait, there's one. No way we can get a lock on those things from down here."

Payday looked over his shoulder. Their astromech, R8-D3, was a little displeased over having to purge the thrusters to keep their Y-Wing from overheating, but relieved to not be vaporized. Right now, the droid tri-fighters were the biggest problem.

Based on what little Spray had told them, Payday figured the ships were using their speed to comb the airspace above the Crystal Empire. They flew in a grid pattern, each ship in the droid formation crossing over a different area, scanning. If any one ship sighted an enemy, they would all respond and move to that ship's position, becoming a swarm. Republic interceptors had a similar strategy, but also kept a few ships flying high over the scanning ones to prevent ambushes and also to save fuel. Droid brains were fast to react, but slow to process new details.

Which is what gave clone pilots a slight advantage: creativity.

"Spray?"

"Yeah?"

Payday converted power to the thrusters, gripped the controls tight in his hands. "You think you can get those tri's attention?"

"Yes, but why would I want to?"

"I've got an idea. Squad, I want each of you to ping me with your position and watch for me on radar. Gunners, the moment I'm over your heads, you fire straight up. Acknowledge."

"The hell have you cooked up this time, Payday?"

"Just be ready," Payday said. His squad acknowledged him; the occasional wisecrack or comment was pretty usual for clones. If asked about the colorful commentary, the typical clone response was "blame it on my genes." Jango Fett was also known for his certain brand of humor.

"Spray," he said to his gunner alone, "next time you see a tri, shoot at it."

Silence for a moment, then green. "I see what you're getting at. I don't like it, but I see what you're getting at."

A minute passed. Then another. Spray didn't just fire, like his name might suggest, but waited for the opportune moment. One or two of the tri-fighters passed over, but in a wide pattern. He wanted to get one when it was just right.

"Be ready, squad."

The fighters were coming around again. It was a pattern, precise and orderly, mechanical. Like a machine. It was easy to predict, but still deadly. To kill droid fighters, you had to be smart, you had to be quick, and when the time came-

"Now!!" Spray yelled and fired. Blue bolts from the turret's laser cannons shot in the path of the tri, the fighter nearly hit. With enough time, Spray could've gotten the pattern down and shot it out of the sky, but right now, they didn't have time. The tri began to bank around, recalibrating its sensors to differentiate between the clone bomber and the ground. There was no hiding now- it was coming for them.

Payday hit the thrusters and their Y-Wing shot off. He nearly clipped the roof of the building directly in front of him in the rapid ascent, but they were up now, above the streets. And the tri's noticed them right away, all of the tri's. He nearly spun the yoke and yanked it back, turning his ship into a sharp bank, the sharpest he could make it. He had to pull the maneuver to prevent the tri-fighters from clipping him with an early shot. No, they would wait at least a few seconds to achieve a target lock. Being droids just meant they'd get it faster.

Would he be fast enough? He couldn't even look behind to check, but he saw three red blips tailing him on his sensors. Barely a second after they leveled out and three were already on him. Just a few more seconds, a few more meters, almost there, so close, so close. He looked at his position on the sensor readout, nearing closer to his first squadmate hovering on the ground. They were so close.

*Kssshou, kssshou!* One of the tris fighter. *ksshouksshou* And then another one. Red bolts blazed past him, just overhead, bright enough to nearly blind Payday and his gunner. With the droids' linked targeting systems, they were calibrating their shots. The first shots were close, the second were closer and more rapid. The next? Probably wouldn't survive to wonder.

"Now, eight!!"

Just as his ship flew over Archer-Eight's location, the clone gunner fired. The lasers from his turret fired straight up, not trying to track the tri's but just firing straight up. The laser fire wasn't enough to blast them all but it did clip one of them, and that was enough to tear one of its engines off the fuselage and send it spinning right into the dirt.

Payday pulled his ship into another bank. "Five, now!!"

He leveled out and blew over another wingman. Again, lasers shot up from the ground and caught a tri, blasting it to pieces.

They raced over a park near the center of this part of the city. "Two, now!!" Stacks' gunner Straps blasted another tri out of the sky. Soon, the entire enemy squadron of tri-fighters had been destroyed by the gunners of Archer Squadron. The last one, Payday went head-to-head with and dipped his bomber's nose slightly at the last second to let Spray blast it.

"Haha, got 'em!"

Payday took a moment to catch his breath. His squadron, all twelve Y-Wings, took to the sky again, free of droids.

"That was some nice shooting, gunners."

"If one of you says that line that 'timing is everything,' I swear I will shoot each and every last one of you down."

"Hahaha," that got a few chuckles out of the squad, Payday included.

"Why not say it was the Force instead?"

"Alright, alright, cut the chatter, guys. There's still droids in this city and we've got walkers down. Form up by three and let's go save our armor."

"Archer-One, I've got something new on sensors."

"What's it look like?"

"It's one of ours, one of the larties is carrying it but it's... new."

Payday checked his sensors and then did a visual scan, spotted the LAAT/c carrying it. He should've been just barely able to make out the walker, but he was able to see it from here. And it wasn't a walker.

"Well, this day keeps getting more and more interesting."

"Think we should've stayed on the ground?"

"No. We wouldn't want to be anywhere on the ground right now." Payday thought himself that if the droids knew what they would be facing at that moment, they probably wouldn't be on the ground either. If their programming allowed it.

Chapter 4: Strong Feelings

"Heh heh heh heh!" Dua chuckled, grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Now, if y'all will escooz me, I'll be relievin' ya of your weapons naw." He gestured with his blaster at the ground.

Behind them, the Super Battle Droids stepped closer to further box them in and encourage them to disarm. Not close enough for them to slash, but close enough. Anakin was first, tossing his lightsaber to the ground, followed by Ahsoka's sabers and Rex's blasters. Then, Rex's grenades. Then, Rex's holdout blaster, his spare holdout blaster, his ankle blaster, a couple demolition charges, droid poppers, field survival pistol, more grenades and a tri-blade knife.

Rex noticed his commanders looking over at him. "I came prepared," he said. Jedi usually only had the Force, lightsabers and the clothes on their backs, in that order. Troopers liked to carry a little extra. In Rex's case, a lot extra.

"Well, this is, uh... quite a collection y'all got here..." Dua holstered his own blaster and picked up one of Ahsoka's lightsabers. "One of you wanna help me carry this stuff?"

"No," said Cydon Prax.

Something exploded in the floors high above them, rocking the palace. The weapons then levitated them up, clutched in Chrysalis' magical grip.

"We have to get moving. Get these clowns to the dungeon," Chrys ordered. She walked up to Anakin, a predatory smile spreading across her space. "But this one, this one comes with me."

"Now hold up, lil lady," Dua stopped her. "These ain't 'Questrian prisoners, naow. These here are Republic prisoners. Before you get to do anything, I gots to interrogate 'em. Squeeze every bit of info I can out of 'em."

"You'll be able to do that after I'm done with him!" she snapped. "I can smell it on him. He positively reeks of it and I need him."

"What do you need him for?" Ahsoka asked. They were all wondering it, but Anakin wasn't exactly keen on asking for more than one reason.

"Hahaha... nothing a welp like you needs to worry about. But you, you're different. You have what my people need."

Anakin glared. "I think you'll get more than you bargained for."

Love. Queen Chrysalis smelled it on him. To her and the changelings, it represented a food source, a source of magical power and little more. The clones, other Jedi, not much real love among them. They were stoic, cold and emotionless to her, but Anakin Skywalker was different. She knew it, and now he knew that she knew.

That was a problem.

In that moment, all the feelings Anakin fought to suppress every day welled back up inside of him. His heart beat harder in his chest, his muscles became rigid and hot, his teeth gritted with anger. He stared daggers at the blue-eyed insectoid alien woman, felt adrenaline surge through him. His midichlorians reacted wildly, each one inside his blood cells ready to gorge on his emotions and harness the power of the Force. But in this state, with these emotions, it would not be the Light Side of the Force that he drew upon.

His hand, the robotic right prosthetic that replaced the one Dooku had severed, almost instinctively formed into a grip.

"Eerrrmm-hmm," Chrysalis cleared her throat.

Stop talking. Stop her from talking. Silence her. Silence her forever. Those thoughts didn't quite enter Skywalker's mind, but deep down, they whispered, almost like an echo at the edge of hearing. It didn't quite reach his head, but it was a feeling that reached his arm. Fear very rapidly turned into anger and hatred inside Anakin, all from the simple knowledge that Chrysalis knew. She knew about Padme. And no one could know about Padme.

All of the feelings Anakin Skywalker suppressed every moment of every day were in a deep ball somewhere behind his stomach. He kept them hidden from everyone, even himself at times. It was like he was leading two lives, two completely different people, even. The thoughts and desires of being with Padme, the desire to hold her in the golden sunset-drenched lakes of Naboo, to be somewhere far away from violence and danger where he could just be happy and in love, those feelings flooded his body whenever his relationship with Padme was threatened to be exposed. Like a floodgate breaking open.

Rex was not attuned to the Force, but Ahsoka was, and she could feel Anakin getting worked up. Her concern for their safety masked it at first, but like a fire, it began to burn too hot and too bright to ignore. She glanced over at him, the beginning of concern growing in her eyes, like her own instinct to care about her friend and master, when an explosion rocked the palace.

"You never mentioned anythang about 'using' any prisoners befoe, lady. You... feedin' on this boy ain't part of the deal."

She spun back to him. "Then I am altering the deal!" Chrys was another being that couldn't quite control her urges, her chief one being hunger. For power, food, for herself and her horde. Anakin's love was as strong as Shining Armor's. She could smell it, it was almost getting stronger all the time, almost as if-

"Get down!" Shining Armor, the real Shining Armor, leaped down and produced a shield from his horn. It surrounded Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex in a cone of shimmering blue magic. The Super Battle Droids and Cydon instinctively fired, but their blaster shots were absorbed by the shield.

"You!" Chrysalis growled, "How did you escape?!"

Something rolled across the floor just as she asked that question. From the back of the room, several small spheres rolled to within inches of the droidekas. A couple more levitated to stick to the backs of the Super Battle Droids and Commando Droids. The droids had time to register the objects before they sent out their electronic-frying pulses that overloaded their systems and shut them down.

Jedi Master Krace leaped down from the ceiling as well, lightsabers activated.

"Well," Rex said. "I see why he's the Jedi's infiltration expert."

Admiral Ningo's instincts chimed in as well. "I think it's time to be headin' out." With Chrys between them and the Jedi, Dua and Cydon both bolted in the opposite direction.

"No! Get back here, we can't just leave them!"

"You should take this lesson to heart," Master Krace said. "The CIS make for poor allies. The Republic would not abandon you so quickly."

The changeling queen turned back to him and scowled. "You fools. This is only the beginning. You don't know what's been started here, what's already been done. You Jedi, your Republic, there's so much you don't see."

"Oh yeah? Enlighten us," Rex said, taunting but also serious. Any opportunity to get information was useful.

"Ahahaha!" she cackeled, "why should I ruin your surprise? This place was under occupation LOOONG before you idiots blundered in. You'll see soon enough- hahaha!" In a flash of green, Chrysalis burst into flames and evaporated. Their weapons hit the ground.

And Rex's grenades were armed.

"Uh oh."

Master Krace reached out with the Force and tossed the grenades outward. They exploded, blasting into a few columns in the throne room but otherwise doing no damage. Chrysalis, the Separatists, they were all gone.

"That could've gone a lot worse," Ahsoka said.

"It could've also gone a lot better," Anakin said. "Your majesty Prince Shining Armor, I presume?"

"Yes. The uh, real one, this time. You're with the Republic?"

"We are. I'm General Skywalker, this is Commander Tano, Captain Rex and General Krace. We're here to rescue you."

Shining nodded. "I thank you. For myself, my kingdom and my family."

"Uh, we should probably do the meet-and-greet later," Ahsoka reminded them. "If we hurry, we might still be able to catch the admiral."

But then, the sound of more guests put the brakes on that idea. More Super Battle Droids, more than they could handle, began marching their way into the throne room from the entrance hall. Rex's explosives might have been able to take care of them, collapsed part of the building on top of them, evened the odds if they had not all just been used up.

"More clankers!"

That was when Princess Candence appeared behind them. "They've called for reinforcements, the palace is surrounded!"

"Back up the stairs- move!" Anakin ordered. Already the droids took shots at them. Krace deflected them while Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex grabbed their weapons and ran in the opposite direction.

They ran back into the corridor and up the long staircase. There was nowhere for them to go but up.

"Do you have any ships docked upstairs?"

"No, the Separatists took them all or destroyed them already," Cadence said. "You guys got in here, you didn't think of a way to get out?"

"This was supposed to be a STEALTH mission; we didn't account for it being a trap!"

Anakin keyed his commlink. "Rescue-One to Zeta Leader, where's our exit?"

Static. No one answered his comms. They kept running up the stairs.

"Rescue-One to any Republic forces out there, can anyone read?"

"This is Archer Leader- general, the tank column is out of action and the droids have called in reinforcements! We've got two landers on the way and they're headed to your position!"

"Oh, great."

"We have a plan, sir, can you get anywhere that's stable in that building?"

"There's an armory that's pretty secure about halfway up the tower," Shining said.

"What do you mean by 'stable,' Archer-One?"

"Just get there as quickly as you can and hold onto something!"

"Oh, I've got a bad feeling about this!!"

They raced up the stairs. Down below, the droids were already filling the bottom of the staircase and slowly marching their way upward.

Author's Note

Admiral Dua Ningo is a bit of a hippy-like character in this story, and the tiny tidbit about him not wanting the changelings to feed off Anakin reveals a bit more about his character. Even though he's a Separatist, he doesn't like prisoners of war mistreated, so he has some sense of honor somewhere.

Chapter 5: Hot Wheels

Mash and Beans(or Beans and Mash) were almost to the outskirts of the city. Beans felt he had left his stomach about four kilometers behind them.

"So what kind of ordinance are we getting? An AT-HE?"

"No."

"Elite AT-TE?"

"No."

"Then what?"

Mash gestured upward. "That."

The LAAT/c could carry walkers, speeders and fighter tanks easily enough, but something bigger was needed to carry the Republic Army's largest tanks. At first, Beans thought it was a prefab garrison module, because he was clearly able to make out the profile of an Omicron-class attack shuttle descending from the sky. But then, what it was carrying came into view much clearer, and his stomach caught up to him again. He felt his eyes go wide.

"Oh. No.

"Oh yeah."

The Omicron shuttle hovered just at the edge of the city. And it dropped a massive, ten-wheeled tank onto the ground. This was no walker; this was unlike any other armored vehicle in the Republic's arsenal.

"A Juggernaut? Really?" Beans asked.

They dismounted the speeder bike. Mash walked right up to it and touched one of the massive vehicle's huge wheels. It was solid, it was powerful, it was armed and most importantly, it was fast. He gave a thumbs-up to Brick as he flew off, probably to get far away from whatever they were about to do.

"You know you're actually going to have to wear your seatbelts now, right?"

"I always do anyway, Brick."

"Yeah, right! You tankers are crazy!"

Mash nodded. In actuality, the clone pilots had the most dangerous jobs clones faced, especially ones like Brick. Carrying heavy equipment with almost no weapons, no maneuverability, the LAAT/i's and shuttles carrying gear were flying targets. Flying bricks, as Brick put it. What he and Beans were about to do, however, might have been even more dangerous. Gunships and cargo ships flew in formation while they were about to charge into an occupied city in a single tank. It just happened to be a very big, very fast and very powerful single tank.

"You staying with the speeder, Beans?"

Beans glanced at the speeder. "Hell no."

"That's right, you're not. Mount up."

Payday and Archer Squadron had their work cut out for them. Two C-9979 Landing Crafts were on approach to the Crystal Palace and what was left of the droids in the city had regrouped. Half of them were rushing into the palace itself, the other half were forcing the 501st off the streets. There were just too many of them, which was life for the Clone Army in most cases and there were about to be a lot more. Archer Squadron's Y-Wings had been bombing the droids while trying not to damage much of the city, a pretty piss-poor way of running a military operation but that was life, too. Clones were cheap, buildings weren't, especially ones made of crystals.

This was reality for the clones and the Jedi, the entire Grand Army of the Republic across the galaxy. The CIS attacked, the Republic defended. What few fleets were on the offensive, including General Skywalker's, hunted down sources of infrastructure the Seps used and destroyed them- droid factories, shipyards, munitions plants, anything. Everything they could do to weaken the enemy war machine, to even the odds.

A little over a year into the war and early lessons had come at great cost. Mirgoshir, Muunilinst, Foerost and others, not to mention the Dark Reaper Campaign had all been costly to the Republic's forces and the Jedi. What seemed like early victories turned into months of fighting, battering down Separatist defenses in the Core, Inner and Mid Rim. When they finally had secured most of their own territory, the Republic Fleet stared out at a galaxy where the Separatists could hide anywhere.

For some reason, they had chosen Equestria, and so the Republic had come knocking.

Payday looked at his ammo, then at his squad's ammo. They were running out of explosives but they were airmen. They would help their boots on the ground whatever the cost.

"Archer-Four, Five and Six, on me. Form it up tight." He gunned his Y-Wing, putting more power into the thrusters. "The rest of you, get ready for an attack run. Get low and fast."

His designated wingmates formed up with him in a vertical-diamond formation. Their noses were aimed right at the Crystal Palace. Payday switched from bombs to the last of his proton torpedoes and put the reticle right in the center of view.

" General, is your group in a safe position?"

"Not exactly- we're in a closet! What are you planning?"

Payday put his finger on the trigger. "Sir, we're bringing the whole house down."

"You're WHAT?!"

"Let 'em have it!!"

Four streaks shot from the Y-Wings' launchers. Burning through the sky, they collided with one of the giant legs of the Crystal Palace and exploded. Payday and his formation flew around the leg and weaved through the others at high speed, then broke and banked around the palace.

The next attack run was right behind them. Four more volleys of proton torpedoes shot from Archers Two, Three, Four and Seven. The bombers repeated the maneuver as fast as they could, all with precision. Finally, the last formation of bombers unleashed their payloads at the leg of the palace, all of their shots hitting within a meter of each other.

The base of the Crystal Palace was a cloud of fire, smoke and crystal dust. Although the structure was not designed to withstand a siege, it was still large. As the Y-Wings pulled around to the south side again, Payday and his squadron waited, wondering if their shots were enough to do the job.

The Crystal Palace shook. With one violent crack, the leg of the great structure broke and the palace began to lean to one side. The other legs, not designed for such integrity loss, were unable to keep the structure upright.

Like one of the great wroshyr trees of Kashyyk, the Crystal Palace began to fall almost in slow-motion. A thing so tall, as if to challenge the sky and pierce the heavens, it was never meant to fall.

"Cover! Get to cover- NOW!!" Clones scrambled, shouted and dove into buildings, did everything they could to escape the falling tower. Even if they weren't directly in its path, there was no telling what kind of an impact it would make.

The battle between the remaining clones, their walkers and the droids and their tanks was about halfway into the city, halfway from the outskirts and the palace base. The clones were at the southern half, the droids at the north, and while the clones had excellent self-preservation instincts, the droids did not. They were meant to process combat, not environmental dangers, and while they could process other information, they were slow to things they couldn't shoot at, especially the B1 Battle Droids.

A few of them did notice the falling tower, however.

"Uhhh... is that supposed to happen?"

"Is what supposed to happen?"

"That big building looks like it's falling.

"Ohh... uh oh."

"Run! Run for your lives, run!"

A few of the droids ran, a few even fired their blasters at the falling structure. The shots that did hit were absorbed without a single change to the tower's descent. There was nothing stopping it.

Finally, the Crystal Palace hit the ground. It crushed buildings, it crushed droids and it even crushed a few of the droids' MAF gunships as they were flying by. AATs and Spider Droids exploded on impact as the tower came down. The impact sent a wave of dirt and debris outward and more than a few droids were sent flying with it. Cracks formed along its side, but none so deep as to break the Crystal Palace in half.

The Crystal Palace, a religious icon, source of magic, one of the symbols of the Crystal Empire and Equestria, a structure built by the ancient Crystal Ponies and that had stood for thousands of years now lay like a broken piece of glass in the middle of the city it once rose as out of like a beacon.

"Holy Sithspawn, Payday!"

"Cut the chatter, two. You have something to say, Stacks, say it."

"I thought the objective was NOT to damage the city!"

"Minimize damage to the city is the objective. And hey, the city's still mostly intact. Just a few city blocks and one tower got demolished. Even if it was the biggest tower outside of Coruscant, I think it's uh, still minimal."

"I don't know if they're gonna give you a medal for this or court martial you."

"Maybe both," Payday said. Payday and his squad were the most accurate bomber pilots in the Republic Navy. Payday actually got his nickname after a bet against an instructor, betting he could hit one of the needles at the top of Timura City on Kamino. Payday had won that bet and took out power to the facility for the better part of three days. The instructor, a Mandalorian pilot, had waited until power was restored to give him the money. Called it his "Payday."

They didn't always know what would happen when he flew or pulled the trigger, but after that day, no one would ever doubt his aim.

"We should uh, probably check to see if the general is alright."

Payday nodded in his cockpit. "Right, was just about to do that anyway."

"Sure you were."

He keyed his comms. "Archer Leader to Rescue Team, what's your status?"

Static answered him at first, followed by the sounds of at least three different people coughing. "If you were down here right now, Payday, ONE of us would kill you. We'd at least ALL shoot you."

He couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Good thing I'm not down there, then."

"What?"

"Erm, stand by Rescue Team. Your exit is coming right up." He switched channels to Zeta Squadron's frequency. "Zeta-Four, you en route?"

"In a manner of speaking!"

"Copy that, we'll cover you as you pick up the ground team and-"

"No no, clear the airspace! Get clear! All infantry, clear the main road!"

"What?" Payday said. "What are you talking about-" And then he saw what they were talking about. "Archer Squadron, form it up! Accelerate to max speed!"

In a few moments, the damage to the Crystal Empire might not be minimized in any regard.

"Look at those cowards run," said TD-44 as he dismounted his AAT. He was confident, as was part of his Tactical Droid programming, and right now his programming dictated that he survey the battlefield and mock the enemy as they retreat. One might argue that T-Series Tactical Droids were programmed a bit too well, considering they were almost always overconfident to the point of arrogance. TD-44 was no exception.

He picked up a Phase 1 clone trooper helmet off the street. "My victory is complete. We have achieved total tactical supremacy over the Crystal Empire."

"But sir, the enemy still has air superiority. And we lost twice as many tanks and troops as they did."

"Those losses are acceptable. The palace is secure."

"But they destroyed the palace."

TD-44 turned and noticed that the Crystal Palace was now lying where most of his column used to be.

"The palace is secure. Our objective is accomplished. Your insubordination will see you reassigned to latrine duty."

"Do we even use latrines? We're droids."

He pocked his subordinate in the chassis. "Do not belittle my triumph or you will be melted down for scrap."

"Roger, roger..."

So what if most of his units weren't responding? A win was a win, and that's all that mattered to Confederate Command. They might promote him, make him a Super Tactical Droid for this. He imagined his droid brain being placed in a new, more powerful ST-Series chassis and the thought delighted his mainframe. He'd finally have something over those other upstart ST-Series Super Tactical Droids and their "superior programming" and "advanced analytical software" and their "ten-percent less likely to overheat or suffer from sociopathic flaws during normal operations" perks. Or at least, he would be one of them and wouldn't have General Maxid constantly pushing him around.

Droids sometimes developed personalities of their own, especially the smarter ones. Tactical Droids tended to be jealous of Super Tactical Droids, the model intended to replace them, and as one might expect, Super Tactical Droids didn't think highly of their predecessors. General Maxid treated TD-44 like any other droid under his command- him, when he was standing amid this great victory. He'd like to see General Maxid standing here, surveying the rubble. Maxid would have probably just sent in his commando droids again, try to achieve "less-significant losses."

TD-44 was proud. General droid strategy against clones was to corner them with superior numbers and hammer the squishy, plastoid-shelled creatures into oblivion. ST-Series droids were programmed with more strategies, able to implement them faster while the T-Series were considered "rudimentary." These phrases now revved TD-44's processors, the equivalence of anger, the annoyance welling up in him.

"I will keep this as a trophy. Let our victory here be recorded in the datalogs to reflect my glory. Future droids will be inspired by what we have done here today," he said, his monotonous, mechanical voice droned. Maybe, TD-44 would give himself a name after this, something to rally his troops with. Something that conveyed the superiority of his tactical mind, the prowess of his crushing strategies, that captured his supreme victory forev-

"Sir, there's a new contact approaching fast!"

"Where?"

*Vrrr-BAMF*

The Juggernaut ran over TD-44, crushing him in an instant beneath its massive wheels. The tactical droid, his processors and all his lofty goals were flattened into the street, his circuitry sparking one final time before dying.

"Mash, we need to slow down! I think you just hit a speed bump!"

"No time! The droids have reinforcements on the way!"

The Juggernaut sped down the streets of the Crystal Empire, all the way to what was left of the Crystal Palace. The few droids left standing were crushed beneath its massive wheels; they didn't even have to fire its blasters, rockets or missiles.

Mash and Beans liked the Juggernaut so far. It was a lot more spacious inside than the AT-TE, it moved a lot faster, heck why didn't they use these more often? Sure, Banger might miss the mass driver cannon but the Juggernauts have homing missiles so he'd probably adapt. Besides, the vehicles were so big and heavy that they could just smash anything in their way. They just knocked two AATs right off the road and barely noticed them.

Seriously, the HAVw(Heavy Assault Vehicle-wheeled) A-6 Juggernaut just destroyed anything in its way. As they raced through the streets, they ran over battle droids, super battle droids, a few droidekas and even a pair of dwarf spider droids and caused their spherical central bodies to pop before they could self-destruct. It was awesome.

The only problem that Beans saw was slowing down.

"Uh, Mash?"

"Not now, Beans, we gotta stay on target."

"We're getting close to the palace and the RV point, don't you think we should slow down?"

"Stay on target."

"Hey, loosen up!"

"Stay on target!!"

The "target" in question was rapidly approaching. When the wheels of the Juggernaut hit the sloped peak of the Crystal Palace, they did what they did to everything else they just ran past. They rode right over it.

The Juggernaut was now racing up the side of the fallen palace.

Chapter 6: Explosive Exit

Anakin used his lightsaber to carve a hole in the wall of the Crystal Palace.

"Next time, EVERYONE will be part of the planning process for these rescue missions- INCLUDING the pilots."

"Uuuunnghh..."

"Agreed?"

"Agreed," the group said wearily. Even if they didn't agree with what Ahsoka was saying, none of them were in a position to say otherwise. She and Anakin helped pull the others through the hole. It was only thanks to Shining Armor and Cadence that they even survived the palace's collapse; the two ponies were able to make a shield with their magic to help cushion the impact.

"Dear... sweet heavens," Cadence said. "Our kingdom..."

"At least we evacuated," Shining remarked. The Crystal Palace lay broken, pieces of it having crushed entire blocks of the Crystal Empire's city. Shards of broken crystals, stones and rubble lay scattered everywhere. The CIS hadn't invaded to destroy the Crystal Empire and neither had the Republic. Despite this, the fighting had wrought untold devastation upon the once-beautiful capitol.

Before the palace collapsed, Shining Armor and Cadence explained to their rescuers what had happened and how they were captured. The Crystal Empire's citizens had been evacuated shortly before the Separatists' invasion. They fled on airships, pegasi flew on their own wings, unicorns teleported and everyone else left any way they could. Shining Armor and the royal family stayed behind to negotiate with the CIS.

Naturally, the Separatists' idea of negotiating was "get in this cell, sit down and shut up or get shot." Aggressive negotiations indeed. So, the dual purpose of staying behind was to stall for the Republic to send in a fleet to rescue them. Unfortunately, the Republic had been delayed; data about the Far Rim was limited and maps of the area were more of those that had mysteriously vanished from the Jedi Archives and Republic database. It was so remote they only had dial-up access to the Holonet. Truly, dark times indeed.

"The Republic and the Jedi will help you rebuild," Anakin said. "Once the Separatists are forced off the planet, our corps of engineers will help to restore your palace to its former glory. In its entirety."

"That, uh, might take a while," Rex commented.

"Yeah, we shouldn't promise anything too quickly-"

"In its entirety, Ahsoka," Skywalker responded. Another declaration nobody felt like disagreeing with at that moment.

Instead, Ahsoka asked, "Where's Master Krace?"

They turned back to the hole. "He was right behind us," Shining said. "Wasn't he?"

Anakin raised his commlink. "Master Krace, come in. We're outside the palace, where are you? Master Krace?" No answer. Not even static.

"We have to go back and look for him," Ahsoka said.

But Anakin shook his head immediately. "We have to get the prince and princess to safety. Master Krace is a Jedi; he can handle himself."

Shining and Cadence were still huddled close to each other, their baby foal strapped to Cadence's back. They were almost out, almost safe but until then, getting them out of danger was the first priority. Leaving another Jedi behind didn't sit well with any of them, but it was the reality of the Order and the military. The job came first, their lives came second. Even if it had been Obi-Wan or Anakin, the mission had to come first. On Raxus Prime, Anakin had been captured and taken to a remote moon orbiting Kashyyk and Obi-Wan had been forced to continue without him, as Anakin had been forced to continue fighting on Jabiim when Obi-Wan was presumed dead.

War is hell. The people that sacrifice their lives, risk their own safety and throw themselves into it willingly to protect others are soldiers. Getting the innocent out, people like Shining Armor and Cadence, that was what mattered.

"Skywalker to Extraction Team, come in. Is anyone there?"

"Copy you, general! This is Zeta-Four, we're en route to you now- ETA: one minute!"

"Thirty seconds?" Anakin repeated. He looked around overhead. "I can't see you- where are you? What are you flying, pilot?"

"Not flying, sir! We're driving up the side of the palace now, you should be able to see us! Because we see you!"

"Uh, general?" Rex pointed. "I think that's our ride."

"Oh, great."

"Is that the new tank they've been working on? I thought they were still testing it," Ahsoka said.

"They ARE still testing it," Anakin replied. He keyed his commlink again. "Zeta-Four, you've got to slow that thing down for us to get on!"

"Negative, sir! ETA: thirty seconds! Get ready!"

Anakin could already feel his muscles tensing. Ahsoka did the same, as did Rex. He couldn't feel the Force, but he could tell when his commanders were about to do something crazy. The Juggernaut tank came riding up the fallen Crystal Palace, racing towards them. The crystal structure splintered under its weight, further cracking as the heavy tank sped across its length.

"Your majesty, get ready to jump with us. Rex, get the rappel lines ready."

"Already on it, sir."

Anakin and Ahsoka gathered the Force within them, feeling the energy pool within their legs, feet and hands. The Force was capable of altering the physical properties of things, sometimes temporarily and sometimes permanently. Right now, they were about to use the Force to jump and propel themselves, Rex, Cadence and Shining Armor all onto the back of the tank, or latch onto it with the rappel lines if they missed. Both Jedi concentrated, blocking out all else.

Time slowed. The racing tank's wheels sped, racing towards them almost as fast as a speeder bike but to the Jedi, it was almost inching towards them. Gravity became weak, almost to the point of disappearing and their legs became as strong as those on a walker. The air beneath their hands, at the edge of their finger tips became something almost solid for them to press upward on, like the entire world around them was something they could just push off of and achieve escape velocity.

This was the Force: impossible yet real, moving yet still, changing and yet unchanging, ever-present, the energy of all things connected. It was nearly indescribable to someone who was not Force-Sensitive, like trying to explain color to the blind or a song to the deaf. Another thing, another entity entirely beyond normal perception but undeniably there, pulsing, humming and flowing. You didn't so much use it as you did connect to it and direct the flow towards your goals precisely.

If the Force was a river, a Jedi would use their hands to direct the flow, curve and direct the water. A Sith would grab hold and squeeze as tightly as they could, not caring if a few drops spilled. Often, more than a few drops spilled.

"Master?"

"Ten seconds!"

"Get ready to jump!"

"What part of the Juggernaut were they still testing?"

Rex answered for Anakin. "The brakes."

"JUMP!"

"Oh, GREAT!!"

They jumped.

The tank was moving too fast for them to land on. Anakin and Ahsoka both had to use the Force to assist Rex and Shining jump over the Juggernaut while Cadence just flew. This was where the rappel lines came in, because as the clone turbo tank lived up to its name, the team launched their rappel cables, latched onto the back of the tank and then went flying with it.

The rappels pulled them to the tank, but with gravity being a factor, it meant pulling them towards the wheels. Anakin was beginning to think he should've just rappelled off the fallen tower when he was blinded by a flash of light and suddenly found himself on the back of the tank.

"Aaahh!" Found himself on the back of the tank face-down skidding forward. "What the Force was that?!"

"Teleportation. It's limited, but we were close enough to the uh... this thing to use it," Shining said. It was risky enough teleporting a group that size when standing completely still, yet alone in midair, flying at breakneck speeds onto a moving vehicle.

"Great, uh... Rex, where's the top hatch on this thing?"

"What top hatch?"

Anakin looked forward. The Juggernaut wasn't stopping. He could use his lightsaber to cut a hole through the hull, but he might cut through something sensitive- electronics, hydraulics, the magazine, anything. With the speed and the way the tank was bouncing about, they couldn't climb down the sides safely enough to look for a side hatch. This left them with one option.

"Okay, Plan B!"

"What's Plan B?"

"Hang onto something!!"

"We are going to have a SERIOUS discussion about plans when we get back!" Ahsoka said.

They all got themselves as low as possible and clung to the massive machine. The rappel lines were still latched to their belts.

"Just hope the crew on this rig knows what they're doing! It's still a prototype!" Rex added.

"Don't worry, our tankers are the best the GAR has to offer!" Anakin proclaimed. "They know exactly what they're doing!"

Inside the Juggernaut...

"We have no idea what we're doing!"

"Stop touching that! What does that lever even do?!"

"I have no idea! Half of these controls don't seem to be connected to anything!"

*bing-boong* "In a quarter-mile, make a u-turn. You are currently forty-two miles from your destination." *bing-boong*

"What the hell was that?"

"Mash-!" Beans pointed out the window. "Look!"

They were nearing the base of the tower, meaning the part of the tower that was connected to the base. Now, it was connected to nothing and the space they were rapidly heading towards was empty air.

Until it wasn't. Two C-9979 Trade Federation Landers were dropping in at that exact moment, right in their path. They would be dropping reinforcements in right at the base of the palace- AATs, MTTs, HAGs or some horrible combination of all these things, more and worse. TF Landing Craft could carry a surprising amount of tanks and battle droids because of the fact their hulls were specifically designed to hold such craft and droids didn't require all the comfort and support organics did. So every droid dropship, freighter, vehicle carrier and lander presented a significant threat.

"What do we do?!"

Mash and Beans looked at each other for a long moment.

"Press everything and hold it down at the same time!!"

"General, you guys might wanna hold onto something!!"

"What do you think we've BEEN doing?!"

*bing-boong* "Assault mode has been engaged. In a quarter-mile, press the red button." *bing-boong*

"Oh. Well, that's helpful."

"Are these guys really doing what I think they're doing?" Shining Armor asked.

"I take it back- these tankers are crazy!" Ahsoka yelled.

"Hold onto something!!" Anakin ordered.

"Will you stop SAYING that?! This wasn't part of the pla-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

The Juggernaut jumped off the fallen Crystal Palace. At the apex of its jump, it fired a flurry of missiles from the deployed racks on the side of its command cabin at the front. The missiles slammed into the side of the second TF Lander, hitting it right in the center section that constituted its bridge and deployment bay.

The CF Lander's middle exploded, one of its four wings broke clean off and the rest of the craft plummeted to the ground in a heap. That left the first lander which had already almost landed. But before it could land, the Juggernaut landed on it.

Blaster cannons on the front of the Juggernaut opened up, peppering the lander's hull even as it sped across its wings. The missile pods on the Juggernaut rotated upward and fired again. The lasers from the Juggernaut ripped holes in the lander and pierced right through what little shielding it had at this close range. Then, the missiles came down.

The Juggernaut raced right off the wings of the C-9979 landing craft just as its missiles exploded. The second volley of missiles blasted through the dorsal hull of the ship and disabled its engines. The ship came crashing down, landed lopsided but might've been okay... if Archer Squadron hadn't targeted it. The Y-Wings, in formation, opened fire on the unshielded lander, their blue lasers ripping apart the ship.

The Juggernaut hit the ground and kept rolling.

"-AAAAAAAn. Jeez... I can't believe that actually worked!"

"Haha! We're alive!" Anakin exclaimed. "I told you we had it under control!"

"Oh yeah?" Ahsoka asked. "Then why aren't we stopping?"

Just then, the Juggernaut came to a screeching halt, slid and skidded on its wheels into the middle of the street. Anakin, Rex and Ahsoka were all thrown from the vehicle... but thankfully, their rappel lines were still attached, so they rebounded quickly. And slammed face-first into the side of the tank.

"You alright out there, general?" Static answered him. "General Skywalker? Commander Tano? Captain Rex? ...Anybody?"

Mash set the commlink down. "We should go check on them."

They left the driver's cabin, got to the side door and were about to open it when it opened for them. "General!"

"Next time, EVERYONE will be part of the planning process for these... these rescue missions. Including you tank drivers."

"And the pilots," Ahsoka added.

"And the pilots."

Author's Note

Note: this is still just the intro to the story and what follows will be episodic.

Chapter 7: All According to Plan

Admiral Dua Ningo watched as the Republic's reinforcements arrived. At the outskirts of the Crystal Empire, opposite to where the Republic landed, he waited to board a Sheathipede-class transport shuttle along with Cydon, a few droids and their ally Queen Crysalis. All but the droids watched as the Republic's own transports began landing. For Chrysalis, it was her first time seeing something like this, but she was watching it intently just like the rest of the Seps. Dua took note of that small caveat.

"About forty or so tanks, three squadrons of Vultures, a squad of Tri's, some gunships, transports, artillery and a whole mess'a battle droids. Oh, and two landers. All in all, not a lot. Replaceable. Buncha broken tinker toys is all," Dua said. Credits and war material were not a problem for the CIS; they had more battle droids, tanks and fighters than they knew what to do with, literally. Though, that was partly because most of the Separatist leadership lacked imagination.

What the CIS gained from this battle was material they didn't have: crystals. Crates of crystals taken from the Crystal Empire along with a few artifacts stolen from the now-fallen Crystal Palace were being loaded onto two Hardcell-class transports and were moments from departure. Crab droids were loading the last of them; Dua had to do a double-take when he noticed the crabs themselves seemed to be decorated in jewelry.

Chrysalis said nothing in response, so Dua continued. "The Republic sure knows how to wreck a party. Or start one, one or the other. We got enough goodies outta that palace to get some projects of our own off tha ground. That's thanks to you, mah lady."

The clouds broke above the Crystal Empire. A large, grey triangle-shaped vessel pierced the cloud layer and began landing, the first Acclimator-class Republic Assault Ship of the taskforce.

Dua put his hand on Chrysalis' shoulder. "That's our cue to leave. Time ta get while tha gettin's good."

"You are all fools," Chrysalis finally said. Her voice was cold, hard and bitter. Dua imagined she felt the same way.

Dua sighed, put back on his sunglasses and bit the end of a breath stick, an alternative to death sticks that didn't contain the spice and other toxins the regular ones had. Quitting smoking was not easy for any species in any galaxy.

"I'll bite," he said, corner of the stick hanging out of his mouth. "What's buggin' ya? Neva lost before?"

She turned back to him. "This conflict has been going on for far longer than you... or they, or anyone else can imagine. Those Jedi... they're right about one thing and that's that this war will not be won by petty trinkets and baubles. Magic is power here, admiral. You and your robo-men had better understand that fact."

Maybe other Separatist officers would've sneered or talked down to Queen Chrysalis in that moment. An alien from a backwater world, no money, property or resources to her name, no galactic holdings to speak of and not even much understanding or care for what happens off-world. No, too many in the CIS command structure were imperialistic or elitist on their own, but not Dua Ningo. He wasn't rich like other Separatists; he knew what it was like and how folks got by without money.

So, Dua Ningo just grinne back at her. "More than one kinda magic, sweetheart. You stick with us, we'll show you a thing or two. Still got a few surprises for these turkeys. I got plenty'a tricks... up my sleeve."

She continued glaring at him as they boarded the shuttle. "I want Skywalker. Or whoever he cares about. Get him to me and I'll make sure this entire planet is at your disposal."

The old Sullustan's eyes widened a bit, not that anyone could notice. "That a fact? What makes you think that boy loves anything 'cept stickin' wavy his glowstick around?"

"I know. He has strong feelings, that one, and I can use them. Just bring him to me- alive, admiral. And I promise that all this world and its magic will be used against the Republic," Chrysalis said.

They boarded the shuttle and took off. The two transports lifted off behind them, broke the atmosphere quickly and departed Equestria for parts unknown. They were not accosted by the Republic, or anything else for that matter. Where they were going, only they knew, vanishing into the stars above. Vanishing for now... but not for long.

Such was the nature of the Clone Wars. Too often, the Republic would come in, there would be a battle, sometimes it would last weeks or only a day like it had here. If the Republic won, they would stay and rebuild, leave only after everything was accounted for and reconstruction was on its way. If the Republic lost, they would limp away in their ships to the next safe port, gather and plan their next move. The Separatists cared more about looting than they did rebuilding; when they conquered a planet, they took what they needed and when they lost, they took as much as they could and left.

For all the talk of liberation and the Republic's corruption, the CIS acted more greedy than revolutionary. Perhaps the Republic was right about them... or perhaps the truth was somewhere in between, hard to see. Chrysalis and Dua Ningo knew this about each other: they needed one another to further their own goals. Dua knew that the CIS itself was an alliance of such conveniences and they didn't tend to last long. Maybe he could fix that, maybe.

And if he couldn't, removing the Republic's golden boy would be good enough.

Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor were so relieved their daughter was safe, they almost didn't notice the massive ships landing near them. The recently-refitted R.A.S. Prosecutor landed just a few meters past the city streets, right where the tanks had originally landed. The ship had just been recovered with help from Delta Squad after it was nearly stolen by a group of Trandoshan mercenaries. Instead of returning it to the front lines, the ship was working more specialized roles. It extended its massive 'legs'- landing gear, and the ramps into its cargo bays lowered. Walkers, speeders, a few TX-130s 'fighter tanks' and others all deployed from the assault ship, but these vehicles were here to rebuild, not destroy.

"The Republic Engineering Corps will be fully at your disposal, your highness," Skywalker said. "I personally assure you and your people that they will not leave until your city has been properly restored."

"Thank you, general. But for now, we must contact Princess Celestia and make sure our people are accounted for," Cadence said.

"Of course. We'll get in touch with her right away," he said with a slight bow. They thanked him silently, both of them weary from what had transpired, and a clone officer escorted them to a holocomm terminal they'd set up. He would wait a while, but Anakin wanted to speak with this Princess Celestia as well, especially if there were shapeshifters that could be disguised as ponies.

"Speaking of accounting, it's probably a good time to make our report to Master Windu. Let me do most of the talking, okay?"

"Could've predicted that," Ahsoka said.

Over at the main command post, Rex had already set up the portable holoterminal. The shimmering blue hologram of Mace Windu floated in midair, depicting him standing and scrolling through a datapad. Anakin knew that was usually a bad sign.

"This is most concerning, Master Skywalker. It appears our intelligence reports grossly underestimated Separatist involvement in this system."

"Shouldn't be a surprise when it happens this often," Ahsoka commented, louder than a whisper, not trying to interrupt or start trouble.

Anakin might have chided her for the criticism, even if he agreed with it, but Master Windu did the opposite. He put away the datapad "Indeed, padawan. That's one of the reasons we assigned Master Kenetan Krace to assist you with this mission."

"Master Krace?" Anakin asked, surprise clear in his voice. "Master Windu, he's... Master Krace is missing in action."

"Actually, that's not the case," another voice from behind them said. Anakin and Ahsoka both turned to see a new person entering the tent, another Jedi. "My master is currently on another assignment."

"Your master?" Ahsoka asked. "You're Master Krace's padawan, then?"

The Cathar woman nodded. "Correct. I am called Junala," she said, giving a slight bow as she did. "To ensure success, care was taken as not to mention details of his objective until now. Master Krace is taking a great risk but I am free to tell you that he is unharmed and is actively engaged on another mission."

"He's on another mission... well, that's some good news," Anakin said.

"And when were we going to be informed of this?" Ahsoka asked.

Junala bowed her head. "You weren't. The details are presently classified. He will contact us when he is ready."

Ahsoka was on the verge of sighing or rolling her eyes, but Anakin only grinned at her. He trusted people, especially strong people that were on his side to do the right thing. His padawan, however, preferred having everyone on the same page. If they're all working towards the same goal, it didn't make sense to hold others back if they were more adept in some areas. It is a war, isn't it? They need every advantage they can get, because their enemy has plenty.

But complete trust is fragile and only lasts until the first betrayal. Master Krace hadn't lied to them, but they hadn't been told the whole story, either.

"There are some, myself included, that believe we have significant intelligence leaks. Master Arligan Zey has sent Master Krace to find where these leaks are... on the opposite side of things."

Ahsoka's eyes lit up. "So wait- he's infiltrated the Separatists?" The others might have chafed at her bluntness, but they didn't show it.

Master Windu rubbed his chin. "It's clear that our intelligence reports on Equestria were extremely lacking. It's very concerning that the Separatists were able to mask such a substantial droid presence and launch an attack on a Republic ally so quickly."

"This isn't the first time this has happened. During the Dark Reaper Crisis, they moved a large army to the Kashyyk System without us knowing and used one of the moons for their experiments," Anakin reminded them. "Orbital scans didn't reveal much because of all the forests. We didn't expect to have that problem here on Equestria, but maybe they found another way to sneak battalions of battle droids here without anyone finding out."

"If that's the case, they could have enough to overwhelm us. We lost half our walkers and the 501st has a lot of injured men," Ahsoka reminded them of that.

Mace Windu was quiet for a long moment. "I'll see if I can route some reinforcements to you. My former padawan and his forces are nearby and might be able to help."

"YOUR former padawan?" Ahsoka blurted. Still such a young one. But Anakin was also curious as to who it might be.

"Master Rahm Kota. He and his forces are quite... independent, but they've proven themselves very effective. They recently dealt with a crime syndicate smuggling commando droids to Republic outposts." Mace folded his arms. "You may have difficulty cooperating with him. He's very unorthodox."

Anakin shrugged. "Well, that's fine by us. What do the clones under his command think of him?"

Mace either smirked or grimaced, maybe both, but said, "There aren't any clones under his command."

Both Anakin and Ahsoka's faces went blank at the same time. "...What?"

While Mace Windu explained exactly what Kota's Milita was to Skywalker and Tano, Mash and the surviving members of Zeta Squadron returned to the Resolute.

"Here's to our new squadron leader!" Banger said. He clicked his glass heartily against Mash and Beans' glasses.

Mash forced a slight smile onto his face. "Not an ideal way to get promoted."

"True. True," Banger said, and the crew had a moment of silence. Over half of Zeta Squadron's walkers, their pilots, engineers and gunners didn't make it back. There weren't any bodies to recover with most of them. Burning, melted wreckage was all that was left. That was the reality of war: it wasn't safe and any of them, or all of them, could be gone in an instant. With that reality, there was one thing left to do when all was said and done.

Beans raised his glass again. "To our brothers."!

"To our brothers!!" They all eagerly toasted to that.

The mess hall was still lively. The fact that they were all brothers was one of the best things and the worst things about the clone army. Every man lost was a member of your family, but every member still alive understood and felt it. It made sharing the burden easier. Sure, they were a bit closer to their squad than the division and closer to the division than the legion and so on but they all felt it. They shared the burden together and the deck clones and gunners were able to join the mess and keep spirits up despite the absence.

Even though there was half their squadron missing, the absence wasn't as felt in the mess hall thanks to the naval officer clones and marines. They were never alone, never short of their brothers. They drank, exchanged stories, bets, memories, speculations about what would happen next.

"Admiral on deck!" They all immediately stood. Every clone in the mess hall, seated or otherwise, snapped to attention with perfect precision. This was the time when they truly looked like identical clones: when duty was on the line.

"At ease. At ease." Admiral Yularen walked into the mess with his hands behind his back. The mustached man looked more like a businessman than one of the most prominent naval officers and tacticians in the Republic. Perhaps that was because of his prior career in the Corporate Sector, but no one could question his capability.

Even more surprising than the admiral being there was when he walked up to Mash's table and stopped right in front of him.

"Lieutenant Mash, is it?"

"Sir, uh... yes, sir, it is, sir."

The admiral nodded. "Actually, it's Commander Mash now. If you feel you're ready for it."

"I..." he stammered, suddenly finding himself in something of a shock. "I, I'll do whatever the Republic needs, sir. Does this... this mean I'm taking command of more than just Zeta Squadron?"

Yularen nodded again. "I'm afraid it does. I apologize for thrusting such a big responsibility on you all of a sudden, but I'm afraid we have no choice. You're being put in command of our task group's combined armored forces. Both the forty-second armored division here on the Resolute and the seventy-fifth on the Adjudicator."

"I... commander? I'm going to be in command of all the walker squadrons?"

"Try not to look so surprised, Mash, you're the best man for the job," Banger said.

Mash looked around and saw all his brothers looking back at him. He thought of those in Zeta Squadron, both the ones with him... and the ones that didn't make it back. The ones that should've been there.

"I appreciate this sir, but... why?"

The admiral smiled at him. "You saved a lot of lives during the rescue mission. You noticed something no one else did, and you took action on it, action that saved our operations on this planet. You turned what could have been a terrible disaster into a rocky but successful mission."

Mash didn't know if 'rocky' was the way to describe it, but he didn't complain. He still felt guilty. "I... I could've saved a lot more, sir. If I'd acted sooner."

Yularen sighed, then looked down, almost apologetically. No, completely apologetically. "That is the reality of command. And you faced it. Like General Skywalker, you improvised when you needed to. You coordinated the efforts of your crew and even Archer Squadron to achieve mission success. For some soldiers, just getting out of there would have been a priority but you... you put your duty, the lives of the innocent, before your own safety."

"And ours," Beans added. Speaking out of turn was a bit of a given after three pints of juma. "Sorry. Sir."

"You are all being commended for your efforts. And thankfully, the ponies have... accepted your version of discretion when it comes to their property during the mission. After all, we need you back out in the field immediately. The Republic Corps of Engineers is staying to repair the damage to the Crystal Empire. You and your crew we need to find the Separatist base of operations on Equestria. And remove it."

"Sir, yes sir!" Mash said, echoed by his brothers enthusiastically. They snapped to salute again.

"The three of you work well together. You have a lot of experience as a tank crew, don't you?"

"Sir, yes sir. Since Raxus Prime, we've been with Zeta," Banger said.

"Hmm, very good. You two will serve as the commander's advisors. With appropriate increase in rank, of course."

"Nice," Banger said.

Yularen smiled. Maybe he did enjoy doing this. "Take a few hours to rest. When you're ready, report to the bridge and we'll discuss where and how our remaining armor can be deployed," he said. With a tight and crisp turn, Admiral Yularen left.

Mash, Banger and Beans all slumped back into their chairs the moment the admiral left the room.

"Wow... me, an advisor. Do I get a commando squad like Delta?"

"Uh, HE'S the commander, Bang. Not us. And I think we'll still be on the frontlines. Just with more to carry there."

"Yeah. A lot more," Mash said. He could hardly believe it. One lucky hunch and then the fact he remembered the prototype, next thing he knew, he was a commander. It was a lot to take in.

Thankfully, Banger knew just what to do about the situation. "Well, that's another reason to drink, isn't it?"

"You got that right!" They clicked glasses one more time and downed the rest of their drinks. They had rested enough; they headed right to the bridge. Maybe it was that they were tankers and liked to keep moving, or maybe enthusiasm was bred into them. It didn't matter because they had a job to do- for their brothers and for the Republic.

End of Prologue

The Clone Wars Elements

The Clone Wars rage on with no end in sight. The courageous forces of the Republic and the Jedi see victory on one world only to see loss on another. Lives are lost, planets are devastated, the slow rebuilding process begins and the armies of clones and droids both move on. Nowhere is safe; no place far enough away to escape the march of destruction these two foes wage upon each other every day. It's not a question of if the Clone Wars will reach you, it's when.

For Equestria, the answer is now.

Far from the Galactic Core in a strange region of the galaxy known as the Furthest Edge, the planet of Equestria has been invaded by the droid armies of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Bravely, the valiant Jedi respond to the call for aid from the native Equestrians without hesitation. Too late do they realize the extent of the enemy presence on the remote world, and only the quick-thinking of a small group of clones and their Jedi commanders do they avert total disaster. Now, with a beachhead properly established, the Republic sets out to remove the Separatist presence wherever it may be, and they do so with the full support of their Equestrian allies.

But not all Equestrians support the Jedi or the Republic.

The discovery of Equestrians aiding the CIS occupation is deeply concerning to the Senate and the Jedi Order. Suspecting a deeper involvement than they first realized, and with worry over a possible intelligence leak, the Republic dispatches special reinforcements to Equestria to uncover the reason why the Separatists are interested in such an isolated world and what they may be trying to hide there...

Venator-class Star Destroyer R.A.S. Adjudicator
Command Bridge

ARC Captain-78 aka Vok watched as the Acclimator-class cruisers descended through the upper atmosphere to the surface. He watched as the ships disappeared into the clouds, seemingly swallowed up by them. They blended into the misty grays until only the flares of their engines remained and then those, too vanished. Along with their readings on the sensors.

He let his hand drift down to the blade on his belt. He was able to feel all eleven notches on the blade's hilt even through the glove on his hand.

"Captain, they're ready for you."

"Aye." He turned away from the viewport and walked to the back of the bridge through the doors to the CIC.

As he expected, he found Admiral Yularen and the clone naval commander Nim at their usual spots. The two were nearly inseparable on the bridge and almost always fixated on some display or something. They only ever asked for Vok when there was something a hologram or a datapad couldn't tell them.

"We've recalibrated the sensors half a dozen times. Nothing is getting through," Nim stated, his voice full of its usual concern.

Vok folded his arms and waited.

"Communications are unreliable, sensors are useless, they couldn't have picked a better hiding place," Yularen said. He swiped his hand over the datapad and the holographic display of Equestria changed to a topographic display of part of the surface. "And none of this matches our data."

"The data's not from Republic Command. They had to pull the maps from the Jedi Archives on Coruscant."

"Then these maps are anywhere from four hours to four-thousand years old." Finally, Yularen looked past the map and noticed Vok. "Captain."

"Admiral, sir."

"We need you down there."

"That's all you had to say." He turned and walked back out the doors.

"We need more- captain," the admiral looked in disbelief. "You're not-" the doors closed behind Vok.

"Dismissed, sir?"

The admiral sighed. Nim understood his frustration. "It would seem so."

Vok didn't stop walking, didn't talk or chat or wave to anyone until he reached the hangar. He had his gear, he was ready and so was his squad. And there he found them in the hangar next to their ARC-170, all ready to go.

"About time," Rok said.

"They should've sent us in first," Shok added.

"Well, maybe they'll learn next time," Vok said. They all knew it wouldn't happen.

Episode 2: Aggressive Reconnaissance

The ARC-170 left the hangar. A few of the deck clones watched as it raced out of the Venator's dorsal bay with its s-foils closed. No other ship formed on their wings, no other craft followed them, a few sensors picked up their ship but nothing else. The three clones flew in their ship, silent and swift through the night, unimpeded towards Equestria.

Vok was navigating, Rok was piloting and Shok was on the tail gun. As ARCs, the positions in the 170 were not assigned and they often swapped to keep their skills sharp. ARC troopers could perform any role in the GAR, pilot any vehicle, use any weapon. Some troopers were specialists, clone commandos had their talents but ARC troopers did it all and did it well. Deadly well.

"Cut engines on my mark," Vok said. "Mark."

The ARC-170 went from rocketing down towards Equestria to falling, nearly tumbling towards it.

"Reengage in three..."

The fighter glowed with the heat of reentry.

"Two..."

They cut through the heat, the blade-like nose of the ARC sliced through the upper layer of atmosphere. Without engines, the ship would resemble a meteorite to all but the most sophisticated of sensors.

"One."

The engines reengaged and the ship shot off into the Equestrian sky.

Episode 2: Aggressive Reconaissance

Rok kept the S-foils of the ARC-170 closed to minimize the ship's profile. Flying at high altitude, it wasn't possible to fully mask the ship's visibility, a fact of life. Best they could do was make it look like a meteorite, or debris burning up on reentry. It was sundown over the western hemisphere of Equestria, the planet's rotation gradually turning the side they were over into night. Staying in this area provided them with enough cover to remain covert while still enabling them get optimal surveillance of the planet.

Rule Number-One of any form of reconnaissance: always assume you are being watched.

The three troopers were completely silent. As navigator/commander, Vok was able to interface with their astromech droid, R7-D7 aka Lok via the ship's computer.

Signal traffic has increased 200% in the half-rotation since the main force's landing but no new sources have been identified. Energy readings, thermal and seismic remain consistent. Placement of comms relays at the beachhead on the northern continent have improved communications in that area but all communications, sensors and scanning continue to suffer from irregularities. High and low altitude electromagnetic fluctuations have been identified as a possible source.

Scanning, sensors, comms, the greater eyes and ears of the Republic were being hampered by anomalies across the planet's surface. This far from the Core Worlds, long-range communications were being interfered with by spatial anomalies. This was a bad situation to be in. Were the Seps in the same situation or the source? Either way, it was their job to find out and find out where the Seps were hiding. He had to find a pattern.

Vok: Access local sensors. Recall local patterns in the past fourteen rotations.

Lok: Negative. Natives are using unsophisticated telemetric technology; local grid consists of video recordings. Unable to acquire sensor data.

The ponies didn't use a lot of advanced tech unless it was absolutely necessary. Backwaters were like that and usually religious. Fortunately, there were other ways to get the data they needed.

Vok: Access video recordings. Recall data obtained by Adjudicator and Archer-One's flight computer.

Lok: Accessing... accessing... done. Displaying to mainscreen.

Two simultaneous images were displayed on Vok's computer screen. One was a video feed from a local camera on the Crystal Empire, the other was the sensor logs from their Venator's computer and Payday's Y-Wing. What Vok was looking for was where any anomalies started. Archer Squadron entered the atmosphere along with the main invasion force, the Adjudicator didn't but was still in orbit. If there was a pattern to the disruption in their sensors, it would appear in all three recordings.

And there it was. Sensors were spotty from the beginning, but increased as the clouds overhead increased and dissipated when the cloud cover was gone. There were no other major shifts in any other readings- the clouds themselves were the source of the disruption. Not only that, the weather pattern intensified only in the areas where Republic comms were more active, proportionately, almost as if-

Vok felt a chill hit the base of his neck. "Comms check."

"Check."
"Check." The voices of both of his squad mates came back instantly, clear. That just left Lok.

Lok: Long-range signals disrupted; unable to contact command.

There was his answer. They were already being jammed. Whether it was active-directed jamming or just passive specific-signal targeting, they were being jammed. Within minutes of slipping into the cloud cover, comms were disrupted. Using cloud cover, sunlight, eclipses, meteor showers, it was all early textbook tactics of the GAR and they all used it from landing craft to fighter squadrons. Someone knew exactly how they were going to play before the game even started.

Vok: Be advised: Enemy may be aware of standard GAR tactics. Record now.

Lok: Affirmative.

It was the clouds. It had to be the clouds.

"Rok, find us the densest concentration of clouds- now."

"Aye, cap."

"And lock S-foils in attack position."

Rok smiled and let just the shortest, coldest of chuckles slip from his lips. "Aye," he said again.

The second flight of Vulture droids came at them almost identically to the first. Shok fired in short bursts of three at each of the droids, hitting them right in their fuel supplies. Each of the Vultures exploded into cinders with each burst, barely a few burnt grams of degrees were left of them in seconds. He had to be that accurate, had to hit them and destroy each in a single burst. A glancing shot or just hitting its maneuvering thrusters would send it spinning to the ground, still able to transmit data. Maybe even survive the landing, seeing as how the damn droids could walk.

Meanwhile, Rok kept the ship steady and Vok analyzed the terrain from what little the sensors could provide. There was no chance for them to fallback to the Venators or the staging area now; they'd be dead before they broke atmosphere. A trio of Vulture droids at a time, they could handle but an entire squad or more would overwhelm the tailgun no matter how quick Shok was on the trigger. They'd fire through each other, fire all at the same time and the ARC-170 would be dust.

Then, the situation got worse.

"Floor us- now!!"

The silhouette of three Tri-Fighters appeared barely a blip on the sensors before they were in firing range. Rok closed the S-foils again just as a barrage of red lasers streaked past them. The pilot spun the craft ninety degrees and jackknifed it to the ground, just as Payday had showed him. The bombers, ARCs and Z-95s were able to pull off the maneuver, known as a Power Dive if they pulled it off properly, but the LAATs, shuttles and V-19s had trouble because of their wider, bent wings. The ARC-170 could only pull it off when its S-foils were closed.

They were being chased but they were still heading in the right direction. The cloud layer got thicker and the droids were still pursuing, but they were close to the ground. They could deal with the chasing Tris more easily now but if they ran into anti-air, they'd be in trouble fast.

Instead, they nearly ran into something else.

"Freighter!!"

Rok rolled the craft out of the flight path of a Trade Federation freighter. But two of the pursuing fighters weren't so lucky- they crashed into the underside of the bulky ship as it took off towards the atmosphere.

"We're flying over a base," Rok announced.

"Separatist signals confirmed."

"Clankers on the ground."

And that was when Vok looked up from the sensors. In the brief moments, the fractions of a second, despite the bad visibility, his eyes saw a lot. ARC troopers had some of the fastest reflexes ever genetically engineered, the fastest reflexes ever. It enabled them to see details, to notice things, to process them all faster than the average person. Barely a glance through the fog was all Vok needed to see.

There were ruins, droids, ponies and starships. Some on the ground, some in the air, and a massive tube, a space elevator possibly descended from the clouds to the ground. Trade Federation freighters were assembled with a couple TF Landers in the back, the standard MTTs surrounding it and AATs patrolling. Too early to consider it Sep Central; the droids did everything big, quick and lots of it. Early recon missions(not considered by most ARCs to be true recon) would establish a location as a main CIS base or starport on a planet when in reality it was just an outpost. These occurrences have happened less frequently as of late.

"Here." Vok pinpointed a position reasonably far away from the outpost, a small bend in a river nearby. Guns on the landers were already tracking them, as was every battle droid on the ground in the vicinity.

The ARC-170's S-foils closed and the ship raced towards the spot Vok indicated. Its repulsorlifts brushed flurries of leaves from the tops of the trees with how close they were flying to the canopy. When they reached the bend in the revier, Rok pulled back hard, pitching it up while cutting the forward engines. The fighter vanished beneath the canopy.

All three of them disembarked the fighter while it was still hovering, one by one, weapons already drawn. Vok had one of his blasters drawn and the other keyed his commlink.

"Lok, pattern Sigma-Four. Head to position 2." The droid responded with action and the fighter quickly took off again, S-foils engaged.

Vok, Rok and Shok spared a glance at the ARC-170, the briefest of glances. Not for the ship but for the droid. Even a metal comrade was still a fellow soldier and they deserved some respect, especially when making the ultimate sacrifice. Lok was a good droid but not a pilot droid; maybe five minutes before he'd be shot down, somewhere far away from where they inserted.

"Plan?" Shok asked.

"Comms. Slice. Failing that, loud."

"Copy." The trio drew their blasters and set into the jungle, each taking a different path. Vok took the long way around, heading with the river a good distance. They all worked fast and silently, faster than even clone commandos could work and much quieter. Regular commandos had a habit of getting chatty on the comms but they were ARCs. They spoke through actions.

Rok was the one that went straight for the outpost while Shok would find a fuel depot, munitions stockpile or anything that exploded. It wasn't the best of plans, but one they were familiar with: Rok would slice into the enemy communications and get a message with positions to the rest of the Republic's forces. They'd also be able to cause some general havoc with the outpost itself that way, maybe take out a few freighters. If that failed or they were spotted some other way, the plan as usual was to blow up as much as they could, cause as much damage as they could so the Republic would have an easier job or at least find this place.

Survival was always the last, unspoken part of any plan. The job came first. That was true for the regs, true for the commandos and pilots and them included. Every moment counted, every blaster bolt counted and it was all to get the job done and getting home was an afterthought. Home was what you took with you, that small and warm part inside your chest you checked on now and then to make sure you were still alive and were human.

A dull explosion reverberated from the distance, just barely rumbling the ground beneath Vok's feet. The water in the river, calm, felt the disturbance. Lok and their fighter, likely. Hadn't lasted as long as Vok would've liked; air presence must be heavy, ground security would likely be the same. This might be a major base and that meant STAP patrols.

He got off the river, blaster pistols drawn and crept his way into the jungle. Quiet, quick, alone.

Ep. 2 Ch. 2: With Precision

The jungle had sparse foliage but a thick canopy above. It was easy for Vok to walk through and the ground was surprisingly dry. That was bad; the easier to get through, the fewer places there were to hide and the easier it was for patrols to maneuver. Most CIS droids weren't the best trackers but he still needed to minimize his presence. Don't take a direct route, don't go in a straight line, eyes and ears open, no noise, breathe. Always remember to breathe.

He heard the sound of a STAP and hit the ground. Two of the droids hovered by the path directly in front of him slowly, searching. STAPs were fast and a lot louder when they were going at full speed, but these were clearly patrolling. Patrols meant there was something worth protecting nearby, and patrols had patterns. All he had to do was know how to deal with it, and then deal with it.

Vok preferred to deal with things with precision.

The two Battle Droids riding the STAPs rotated their heads slowly, very casually, almost like organics would scan an area visually. It wasn't known whether droids like these were programmed to simulate organic behavior or if they just picked it up on their own. One of the great mysteries of the universe. Either way, when the right-handed droid looked between the two trees at either side of the path Vok had been following, the droid picked up the silvery flash of something before its ocular sensors were disconnected from its body.

The droid's eyes picked up its own sudden decapitation, but without a connection to its processors, the recording was lost to empty space. The STAP slowly leaned to one side, then fell to the ground and deactivated. Before the other Battle Droid could fully compute what had happened to its comrade, the second droid was ripped from its own STAP and its head was severed, not by knife but by Vok's gloved hands. Vok retrieved his knife and left the droids where they fell.

Not far from where he found the scouts, Vok found the base. Not an outpost, not a waystation or a listening post, a full-fledged CIS base.

*VRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm*

Cutting in low overhead was a Trade Federation freighter, flying low enough that its thrusters blasted the foliage around him. It glided over the ruins all the way to the north end of the base, landing next to another freighter of the same model. Vok noticed they were older pre-CIS TF Freighters.

He activated his helmet's commlink. "One is at base perimeter, south."

"Three is east."

A pause in the comms, and then, "Two is in the base."

"IN the base?"

"Affirmative."

Too risky. Too damn risky. Vok cursed under his breath, and that was the last he would think about his comrade's reckless actions until the mission was over. There was no debating, no asking what-ifs, there was reality and the next step.

Vok drew both of his blasters, inhaled... and exhaled. He took one long look at the compound. Droids were proficient at two things: coordinating and communicating. Once one of them had a target, they would all work in unison, all the various types available, to neutralize them. If some were destroyed, their commanders would know immediately, but unless the droid or another was able to communicate effectively, they would not know how they were destroyed. They would simply register as an inactive unit.

This low to the ground, with all this dense fog, the communications and sensor problems they were already having, it's likely the droids already had their uplinks active. Even with that, there was still a chance that if Vok was fast enough, he could destroy any droids he encountered by shooting them precisely. They had internal and external communications uplinks, most of them, so that meant shooting them twice: once in the commlink, once to destroy them.

Vok had to shoot every droid in the base twice. He had to hit them in their commlink and where they were most vulnerable. And he couldn't miss.

Not to mention avoid being seen, heard or detected in any other way. This was not going to be easily. Then again, Vok preferred to deal with things with precision.

R.A.S. Resolute, Command Bridge

"Comm and sensor buoys are in place, admiral. No effect."

Admiral Yularen pinched his chin, as if the trained, no-nonsense officer in him was trying to incite the rest of him to do what he knew had to be done. He looked out the viewport to Equestria, then to Prince Shining Armor and Princess Cadence. The two of them held their daughter tightly between the two of them, backs turned to the planet outside, their home. No, not their home; their home was right here between the three of them on this bridge.

For the briefest moment, Yularen's thoughts escaped him and he thought of his own home. His own family.

"Admiral," Commander Nim's voice brought his attention back to the present. "We've lost contact with Vok's 170."

The admiral snapped into focus. "That's it, then. Inform General Skywalker and prepare to move the fleet."

"What about our men still on the surface?"

He looked his commander directly in the eye and said, "We risk them if we go, we risk the fleet if we stay."

"Aye, sir," Nim responded, and turned precisely to carry out the order. It was the safe decision and they both knew it, but that didn't make it any easier. Soldiers didn't retreat when the innocent were in danger, but Equestria was not a Republic world. The whole ordeal felt like a trap and Yularen wasn't the type of admiral that wanted to find himself in it intentionally.

"You're retreating?" Shining Armor asked. Simple question, but loaded nonetheless, Shining still clung to his wife and daughter tightly. They clung to each other. He wasn't accusing him, just genuinely curious, as anyone would be, at what their next action would be.

Yularen nodded. "I'm sorry, your highnesses, but the situation is too dangerous to risk the fleet. The Republic is not abandoning you; we're merely falling back to regroup with our reinforcements." Of course, he left out the fact that if Command felt the sector was too dangerous, they may abandon it entirely to focus on another front of the war. There was no shortage of planets in danger and many were in fact Republic member worlds.

"But you just got here," Princess Cadence protested. "The work to rebuild the Crystal Empire is still ongoing."

"The detachment from the Republic Corps. of Engineers is remaining behind along with a security force. Along with the Jedi," Nim offered.

Yularen nodded, thankful for the support. "We came here to launch a rescue operation, not liberate a planet we weren't aware had been invaded."

"We weren't aware either... until it was too late," Shining said. Cadence whispered something to him, they both looked at their daughter and they nodded. "Admiral Yularen?"

"Yes?"

"We'd like to request... diplomatic asylum, for the time being. With the Republic," Cadence said.

Yularen was taken back a bit, but quickly understood why they asked. "I don't have the authority to grant that request. I'm not an ambassador and this ship is not on a diplomatic mission."

"But the Jedi are," Shining replied. "We could seek asylum with the Jedi Order. General Skywalker could allow us to take a shuttle to Coruscant, Alderaan or Dantooine."

Yularen pinched his forehead this time. Outmaneuvered on his own bridge. "...We will relay your message immediately, your highness, but I cannot guarantee-"

"Admiral!" the comm officer announced, "We're unable to reach General Skywalker. We've lost all communications with the surface!"

"Is the interference getting worse?"

"No sir- we are being jammed!"

Admiral Yularen didn't need the sensors to see a group of Separatist ships drop out of hyperspace right in front of the planet, aimed right at them. The three Munificent-class frigates and two Recusant-class light destroyers approached at flank speed and had already launched Vulture droid starfighters.

Ep. 2 Ch. 3: The Base

"I sure could go for a recharge and an oil-bath. This jungle is not easy on my joints."

...

The droid in the lookout tower scanned the horizon again, then looked down at his rifle. "Do you think I should recalibrate my rifle again?" He had recalibrated his rifle thirty-eight times since his shift began that rotation.

He looked up again, out at the jungle outside the compound's perimeter. "What do you think it's like out there on patrol?"

...

He leaned forward, hand shielding the sun glare from his eyes as he peered into the distance. "I can barely see anything from up here. When do you think we can head back inside?"

...

No one answered him. Battle droids tended to talk to one another in groups and even pairs, chatting on and getting distracted from their duties. Not only did this make them hard to manage, the talking, interacting and gesturing and posturing like organics actually consumed their power supplies faster, forcing them to recharge more often and taking more energy. So there were multiple reasons garrison commanders needed to get their droid troops to just shut up and do their jobs and one of the ways was to assign them solo tasks or posting them on guard duty alone.

Not that it helped; some of the droids were perfectly fine talking to themselves endlessly for hours and hours, like the guard at the outpost's south entrance.

"I sure could go for a recharge and an oil-bath. This jungle is-"

*BENG-ENG*

The droid's head and the antenna on his power supply(the backpack-like attachment on his back that contained communications gear and the battery) took direct and simultaneous hits, both vaporizing. The body of the droid fell forward and landed on the floor of the guard tower.

Vok's feet landed next to the droid a second after the droid landed. A quick visual scan of the outpost from his visor was enough to update his HUD's tac-display with the general layout of the base. Speed was life. The base had a general layout; prefabs were set up around the base with storage containers, forming rows large enough for two droids to walk through shoulder-to-shoulder. Larger pathways cut a cross-section through the base for vehicles to access but nothing large like an MTT. Two large, raised landing platforms were at the back of the base with a control tower between them, a small landing platform at the back of the tower had space enough for a shuttle.

That was the surface level, anyway. Beneath the buildings, they could have built anything. Or nothing. The whole base could be rigged to blow at any moment and that was the problem with fighting droids. They were expendable so blowing them all up wasn't a problem for their commanders; it was just a problem for anyone nearby at the time. Vok needed to know the layout of the base for one reason: to determine how many droids it might have.

He guessed about a hundred-twenty. Minus the three he already took out, so somewhere still north of a hundred. Time to get to work.

He vaulted down from the guard tower and over the wall, landing on both feet, blasters in hand. Rising up, he blasted two droids that were walking in from the right. Didn't watch them fall, didn't watch his shots even hit them, no time. Squeeze triggers, move feet. He clung to the shadows of the buildings where he could, but there wasn't much shade. Two more droids coming from the left-side of the intersection ahead of him, dropped them both.

"One is in the base."

"Three is east. Green for heavy."

"...shhnn... nnnn..."

"Repeat, Two."

"..."

Static. Something was wrong. His last transmission, he was hanging from a transport that was landing. That might be where he was, it might not. The mission had to come first and that meant suppressing the feelings he had for his brother and securing the base best he could.

Two more droids, Supers this time. They would take more than a shot. Fortunately, they were a bit easier to evade because their heads could only see forward. He clung to a wall, froze. The footsteps of the droids were heavy, deliberate strides. He saw their shadows, saw their bodies twist as they scanned the area and quickly ducked into a doorway, the same doorway they came out of. It closed behind him and the two Super Battle Droids were none the wiser, just how he liked it. Even if they saw the smoldering bodies of their comrades, their programming usually wasn't smart enough to put two and two together.

The small building one was one of the multiple prefabs the Seps had set up in the base. Small, cramped, efficient. Didn't smell like droids though, no oil or battery or carbon-scent to the air. Odd. Vok crept in, turned into the man room of the tiny prefab and discovered why.

*Pyow-pyow!*

He barely had enough time to set his blasters to stun when he saw them, but his tactical mind took precedence. Two locals had been sitting at a tiny table eating. Stunned, one of them was now slumped against the wall while the other went face-first into her meal. Vok kept his blasters drawn.

"Encountered locals. Stunned two."

"Civs?"

"Negative. Treat as hostile."

There were no binders, no markings on them, they were wearing plan clothes- white lab coats, when most of the Equestrians didn't wear clothes. One was male, one female, unarmed. He pocketed a keycards off them both, Separatist keycards. Not prisoners, then... collaborators. He'd heard the reports that locals were cooperating with the Seps and now he had confirmation.

More questions, no answers and now they were missing a man. But now, Vok had access to the base and he intended to use it to find both. The control tower was his next destination.

Exiting the building, he repeated the process that got him there, faster. Stick to the shadows, drop any droids he saw.

*Pyeng-pyeng*

Two more dead, turned at an intersection and-

*Pyeng-pyeng*
*Pyeng-pyeng*
*Pyeng-pyeng*

He continued this pattern up and down the lanes of the outpost and very soon, it had very few droids left in it. None left to patrol the base, which meant it was only minutes before they went on alert when the droids missed their check-in. By now, there was nothing between him and the control tower. His weapons, still hot from firing them so many times in succession, he kept drawn.

CIS Outpost, control tower

The shimmering blue hologram did nothing to distort the image of Count Dooku. His image, his striking features, everything Dr. Amber Afterglow had heard about him was true. The man strong enough to take on the entire Jedi Order, the whole Galactic Republic, the rumors about him were almost too astounding to be believed. That he could shoot lightning from his fingertips like no other Jedi, that he fought and nearly defeated Master Yoda himself. Although clearly old and grey-haired, he was a stark contrast to the soft spoken, overly-sweet Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and his Senate of peons. Dr. Afterglow couldn't help but admire him immediately.

"You are to be congratulated, Dr. Afterglow. The results have been very impressive thus far. Indeed, you have surpassed our expectations."

The bronze mare gave a slight bow to the count. "Thank you, Count Dooku. I was happy to perfect a more efficient method than that of Dr. Uthan and Dr. Vindi. Viruses are so... messy and unreliable."

The count did not acknowledge her mentioning of her predecessors or their work. If he thought anything of her criticism, it was imperceptible, so much so Dr. Afterglow almost found herself embarrassed for the comment. Almost.

"We will have need of your expertise in the future. But our operations on Equestria are in jeopardy of being discovered."

"I assure you, Count Dooku, our work here will continue as-"

"You and your work will be relocated to our main base in that sector. Orchid Station is to be shut down immediately and you are to purge all project data at once. A transport will arrive shortly to take you to the base."

"I... understand." She was taken back a bit, but knew better than to question him. She was valuable to the CIS but this was war and anything could happen. They had to be careful, she had to be careful.

Equestria was important to the Confederacy. There was a lot they could do there, a lot to be gained. And it worked for Equestria, too, at least in the eyes of ponies like Dr. Amber Afterglow. The magical properties of this world and its inhabitants... all ripe for exploitation. Spells, potions, crystals- so many things entirely unique to Equestria and they could benefit the rest of the galaxy. They could uplift so many worlds forgotten by the Republic and bring the rest of them to their knees.

Then... then she could rub it all in the faces of those who kicked her out of the Manehattan Science Academy. The Royal Family, her own daughter, all would be made right. In due time. In due time.

Dooku turned to the Tactical Droid next to her. "Commander, arm charges at once."

"By your command."

The hologram of Count Dooku turned one last time and met her eyes, if only briefly. Eyes with such fire, such passion. He looked like he could set fire to the entire Senate building, raze Coruscant to the core. Perhaps they would. In due time.

Dr. Afterglow moved to the main computer console in the control tower and retrieved the scrubber disk. As with most installations that held vital data, scrubber disks were kept to wipe computers and data terminals quickly. Once inserted, their programs ran automatically, wiping any system clean within seconds. Of course, a good enough slicer could reassemble the data one bit of code at a time. It was a long and tedious process that only the most desperate paid great deals of money to go through. And reassembling code from molten slag, well, not even a Jedi nor an alicorn could accomplish that.

She raised the disk and was about to insert it into the terminal slot when-

*PYENG!*

"Freeze."

It seems like she had even less time than she'd thought. She turned back to face him- a clone, of course.

"Step away from the terminal."

The clone wore strange armor- modified, clearly, and one of those strange half-skirts they liked to wear. He held two pistols, larger than the standard ones in both of his hands and both of them were aimed at her head. The Tactical Droid was slumped against the wall next to the turbolift door- its body, anyway. The head lay on the opposite side, severed at the neck and its eyes dim.

The doctor did as he said. "Thank goodness you're here. The droids, they took over and they've been forcing me to-"

"Lose it, Sep."

Her brow lowered and an in instant, she went from looking up at him a feigned awe and relief to looking down at him despite his taller stature. Literally dropping the act, she now looked down at him, past the two pistols he had trained on her, and eyed him up and down.

"Ah, one of the elite ones. I was expecting a quartet of the deluxe models, but you... very impressive."

"The jamming signal- where's it coming from?"

She scoffed at him. "Wouldn't you like to-"

*Pyewf* And he shot a bolt through the window behind her.

"I won't ask again- where is the jamming signal?"

A sly smile dawned on her face. "Everywhere. You jackboot thugs haven't seen a planet like this before. But I'd be more than happy-"

Vok fired a stun bolt aimed at her. Better than she deserved but the Republic had rules. Even if they didn't make sense, those rules were trained into his DNA. Couldn't shoot an unarmed civ... but if she'd already set the place to blow, he could leave her stunned to save himself. Jedi wouldn't do that, but he wasn't a Jedi.

Except the shot never hit her. A shield, like a ray shield only sparkly appeared between her and him, as if she had a portable generator on her. Which, in a way, she did.

"...to show you," she finished.

He fired again, twice. The shield absorbed both stunning rings of energy. Outside, on the landing platform, a Sheathipede-class shuttle landed alongside a pair of MAF gunships.

"I do believe that's my ride," Dr. Afterglow said, grinning. The door to the tower opened and Super Battle Droids marched in, weapons drawn. "Equestria has more power than the Republic and the Jedi, than even the whole galaxy is ready for."

Vok fired at the droids, got as low as possible and moved to the only cover in the room available- the doorway he just came out of. "Not all of Equestria is with the Seps! Only a matter of time before we figure you all out!"

"Enough time to make your chancellor regret investing in a clone army," she said. "Detonate the charges. Farewell, elite model."

Explosions rocked the base, rocked the control tower, sent shockwaves through the trees in the jungle surrounding it sending flames, smoke and debris in every direction. Vok's vision filled with flames, and then the world around him fell.

Ep. 2 Ch. 4: Reaction

Equestrian space, outside orbit

"Keep it tight, fast, and follow me, boys! Stay close to the ships!"

"Copy!"
"Copy!"

One of the things CT-Gamma 2727 liked most about his V-19 Torrent was the extra blue and green stripes he painted on its wings. One of the other things he liked about his customized starfighter was the modified thrusters that gave him better control and maneuverability while maintaining speed. Not only that, he also liked the special capacitors for his two blaster cannons that gave him extra range, firepower and penetration and only meant sacrificing a couple concussion missiles to attach them to his ship. Yes, it was safe to say that he liked his starfighter.

What Gamma 2727 did not like was his nickname.

"They're coming around, Flap!"

"I got 'em." Gamma-2727, "Flap" toggled his blasters, put his crosshairs just ahead of the Vulture droids coming around the side of the Venator and opened fire. His wingmates did the same, and a stream of blue laser fire turned the squadron of Vultures into explosions of space dust.

"Good call, Flap."
"Good call, Lead."

Of course it had been a good call. Droid starfighters tended to mimic opponents and their formations unless otherwise programmed. Understanding the droids' programming was the key to reading their actions, taking the next step and vaporizing them before they did the same to you. Flap was good at that, good at keeping his pilots alive, good at modifying their starfighters using 'surplus' parts and making sure they did their job. He was possibly one of the best squadron leaders in the Republic Navy because of these things, especially when survival in a V-19 was so poor.

And they called him Flap because he made his V-19's wings look like they were 'flapping' once. That, and he spent a lot of time fixating on the maneuvering flaps, tinkering with them. It improved their performance greatly. So the name had stuck and that irked him. He would've preferred a nickname like Fixer, but it was taken, would've preferred a name like Gage or even Oddball, also both taken, would've even preferred a name like Brick which was shared with a mercenary.

"More behind us!"

He yanked back hard on the throttle, pulling his ship into a tight loop, far tighter than most other fighters. His squadmates followed suit. As they came back down again, he opened fire with his blasters, destroying the lead Vulture droid of yet another formation. But another formation was behind that one.

"Full-stop!" The formation of six V-19s stopped on a dime. Three more formations of Vulture droids came around the other side of the Venator to flank the ship and hit its engines. Right where the ship was most vulnerable.

And right into their line of fire. "Let 'em have it!"

Blue laser fire ripped apart the first formation. They barely had to pivot slightly upward to unleash another barrage on the group behind that. Finally they spread out to hit the third formation before it closed the gap, using their weapons' modified range to tear them apart.

The Vulture droids exploded, a few spun out only to explode seconds later but not a one hit a Republic ship with lasers, fuselage or otherwise. The airspace was droid-free.

"Green-Leader to Adjudicator, you are clear."

"Copy, Green-Leader. Good job out there, Flap."

"Errrgh." Possibly the best starfighter pilot in the entire GAR and he had the worst name. The one thing he couldn't modify. He pulled his ship around and decided maybe he'd ask to swap names with one of the gunship pilots when he landed. Whoever said clones couldn't trade names?

Equestrian outer orbit, Resolute bridge

"Adjust heading to port two-five-nine! All deflectors to double-front!"

"All batteries, forward-fire! Light the lane up!" ordered Commander Nim. Both he and Yularen knew their options just became drastically few in number. Defensive was the only play they could make. Other commanders, other naval officers might have been slower to react and right now, seconds mattered. Admiral Yularen had only one move he could make that could save his ship.

He didn't hesitate. "Full reverse! All thrusters, emergency thrusters, full reverse!"

The Resolute lurched backwards like someone had attached a rope to the back. Throughout its decks, troopers, deckhands and droids were jolted by the sudden maneuver. The Adjudicator and the Merciful followed suit, and with all three ships facing inward, the formation began to spread out as they reversed rapidly. The spearhead attack of the Separatists would have to choose one of the three Republic capital ships to target or divide their firepower. As the Munificent frigates weren't as powerful as Venators, they would have to stay together to concentrate their firepower if they wanted to bring down the Republic ships' shields quickly.

Of course, they remained together and of course, they continued charging forward- right at the Resolute.

"Shields are down to sixty percent! They're closing in!"
"Another wave of Vultures approaching!"

They couldn't outrun them, even if they weren't in reverse and they couldn't turn to race to the nearest hyperspace vector. The Separatists were attacking quickly, hungry for a kill. They must've planned out the exact point the Republic would arrive in, planned this strike perfectly.

Yularen wiped sweat from his forehead. It was time to for something unconventional, but what?

"Admiral..." As luck would have it, that something came to him.

"Your highness, the escape pods-"

Shining Armor and Cadence both approached him, not frightened, but determined. Determined to save them, somehow.

"Admiral, Princess Cadence and I are going to try..." he looked at Cadence, momentarily concerned? Uncertain?

But Cadence was not uncertain. "We need you to direct all your ship's weaponry... umm, upward."

"Upward? Vertically?"

"Yes," they both nodded.

"Your highness-"

"Right now!"

Yularen and Nim exchanged a single glance. The admiral nodded and the order was given.

"All batteries, target point zero-zero degrees! Prepare to fire!"

Shining and Cadence held each other tightly and closed their eyes. Their horns glowed brightly, bright enough to illuminate the bridge.

Yularen had heard of the Equestrians and their abilities. Wasn't too much different from the Force, which he also didn't understand. He knew they could produce shields but how was a shield going to help them? Their own shields were breaking. In fact, at that moment-

"Shields at fifteen percent!"
"Batteries primed!"

Could they trust the ponies? There was no other option; they had to.

The admiral had to shield his eyes. "Whatever you're going to do-"

"Almost..."

"Do it now!"

"NOW, ADMIRAL!"

The admiral shouted, "FI-"

And in that moment, silence filled the location he was just in, silence and empty space. The ship, the crew, Shining, Cadence and their daughter, all had vanished in an instant. The laser fire from the Separatist cruisers would have broken through the Resolute's shields to tear holes in her hull but instead, they simply shot through the void and dissipated. The Republic cruiser was gone.

And instantly, it reappeared directly behind the formation of Separatist frigates.

-RE!!"

The Resolute was now facing with its starboard facing Equestria... and its batteries directly at the aft of the enemy ships. At point-blank range. The moment Yularen gave the order, the eight heavy cannons all delivered a full broadside from their barrels directly upward. Blue turbolaser cannon fire ripped through the engines of the Separatist ships, punched through fuel tanks and turned the skeletal-looking ships into burning skeletons. Two of the ships were destroyed in seconds, one per each broadside while the other ships scrambled to come about.

"What... in blazes..."

"Sir?"

"Ahhm, target the port cruisers, hit their engines! Ahead full!"

Yularen almost couldn't believe his eyes. The Munificents must have been running with their own shields at double-front, leaving their backsides completely exposed for a naval spanking. As the Resolute sped forward, its cannons tore apart the afts of two of the other frigates, disabling them as they attempted to turn hard to port.

The Adjudicator and the Merciful took advantage of the situation and charged ahead. As the other ships turned to face their target, they were caught in the side by salvos from the other Republic ships.

It was all over in under five minutes. The entire formation of eight Separatist Munificent-class star frigates, powerful vessels in their own right, were all charred hulks and debris. The few Vulture droids that remained drifted, some confused, and would eventually all burnup on reentry without input from their control ship.

Ten minutes later, the Republic ships were back in formation above Equestria, flying away.

"Make your heading nine-point-nine five, ensign." Yularen let out a sigh of relief and added, "Prepare for jump to hyperspace. Nav, put in coordinates for Outpost 8."

"Aye, sir." The helmsman sounded almost as relieved as he did, but clones tended to keep their composure better.

At that moment, Yularen didn't care. But he did have to thank his guests. "Prince Shining, Princess Cadence, I-"

Both of them were laying on the floor, out cold. Their daughter, Flurry Heart, shook them, worried and unable to express it.

"Ship... out of danger...?" Shining Armor asked, looking up at the admiral, eyes full and weary.

Admiral Yularen smiled and gave a gentle nod. "Yes. Thanks to you both."

"Oh... great," he said. Face flush, voice weary, if they hadn't been there the whole time, Admiral Yularen would've said they'd both just ran a marathon.

"I don't think... I don't think we should do that... again," Cadence breathlessly said.

"We'll get you all to the medical bay. We'll be en route to Coruscant in a few hours."

"Niiice... is there food there?"

In a tight formation, the trio of Republic cruisers sailed at almost a crawl to the edge of the system, preparing to hyperspace jump out. They'd had enough surprises. Nowhere in space was safe even without the galaxy at war. A single shuttle departed for Equestria with a pair of escort V-19s to inform General Skywalker.

Making difficult decisions with the lives of those that made difficult decisions was the life of an admiral. The prince, princess and their child would have to be in the Republic's custody, his charge, for now. The safest decision was the best for all of them and there were too few safe places in space.

"Sir! More hyperspace contacts jumping in!"

Yularen spun on his heels. "Where?!"

"D-Directly a-head!"

"My... word."

Three new ships jumped in right in front of them. No, nowhere in space was safe.