The operations room of the Ryloth Resistance Base hummed with the quiet efficiency of wartime command. Banks of holographic projectors cast blue-white light across the assembled figures, their faces grim and focused as they participated in what might be the most crucial strategic meeting of the entire Ryloth campaign. Around the central tactical display, Jedi Masters stood alongside Clone Commanders and Avengers, their diverse backgrounds united by a common cause.
The largest hologram dominated the center of the room—Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, seated in his ornate office on Coruscant. Despite the vast distance between them, his presence seemed to fill the space, his aged features radiating the kind of authority that came from decades of political maneuvering.
"How are things progressing, Skywalker?" Palpatine asked, his voice carrying the practiced tone of a leader who had delivered countless speeches to the Senate.
Anakin stepped forward, his cape swirling dramatically as he moved into the projection's range. "Our forces have successfully established space superiority around Ryloth, Chancellor. The Separatist cruisers are in full retreat—those that survived our initial assault."
"Excellent news, General Skywalker. Most excellent indeed." Palpatine's smile was warm but brief, quickly replaced by the focused expression of a man calculating the next move in a vast game of dejarik.
Mace Windu moved closer to the holographic display, his imposing figure casting shadows across the tactical readouts. "Through our coordinated efforts over the past week, we've managed to retake the entire southern hemisphere of Ryloth. Master Kenobi's forces completed their operation in the Tixyl Desert just this morning, eliminating the last Separatist stronghold in that region."
Senator Orn Free Taa, appearing via his own holographic projection from his comfortable quarters aboard a Republic cruiser, visibly relaxed at the news. The corpulent Twi'lek politician had spent the entire war in the relative safety of Coruscant, far from the battles that had devastated his homeworld. "Then the Battle of Ryloth is nearly concluded? My people can finally know peace?"
Windu's expression remained stern, his dark eyes reflecting the harsh realities of military strategy. "Not yet, Senator. The capital city of Lessu remains the last major Separatist stronghold on Ryloth. Our intelligence networks have confirmed that Separatist leader Wat Tambor has established his primary command center there."
Master Yoda, his ancient voice carrying the weight of centuries of wisdom, spoke from his position near the holographic controls. "When retaken Lessu is, captured alive Wat Tambor must be. Valuable intelligence, he possesses. Escape, he must not."
It was then that Cham Syndulla spoke for the first time during the meeting, his weathered face bearing the scars of someone who had fought this war from the very beginning. The Twi'lek resistance leader's voice carried a gravitas born from years of guerrilla warfare and personal loss.
"That will not be an easy task, Master Jedi. Wat Tambor's fortress in Lessu is built into the cliffs themselves—a natural defensive position that has withstood sieges for millennia. The only approach is across the plasma bridge, and he controls both ends."
Senator Free Taa's expression shifted, suspicion creeping into his voice as he regarded the resistance leader through the holographic connection. "You seem remarkably well-informed about Tambor's defensive preparations, Syndulla. One might wonder how a simple freedom fighter comes by such detailed intelligence."
Cham's eyes flashed with barely contained anger, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Better informed than you, Senator. While you've been comfortably ensconced in your Senate chambers on Coruscant, attending diplomatic dinners and political gatherings, I've been here with my people. I've watched them bleed and die fighting against the droid armies that you failed to prevent from invading our world."
The tension in the room became palpable as the two Twi'leks glared at each other across the holographic divide. Steve Rogers, who had been briefed on the political situation by Anakin before the meeting, recognized the signs of a deep-seated rivalry that went far beyond simple disagreement. This was personal, rooted in years of ideological conflict and mutual distrust.
Mace Windu cleared his throat deliberately, the sound cutting through the hostile atmosphere like a lightsaber through durasteel. "Gentlemen, we're here to discuss military strategy, not settle political grievances."
Cham snorted derisively but turned his attention back to the holographic tactical display floating above the conference table. The three-dimensional map of Lessu rotated slowly, showing the city's precarious position on a series of connected mesas and the narrow plasma bridge that served as its only connection to the mainland.
"As I was saying," Cham continued, his voice professionally neutral despite the lingering anger, "the plasma bridge is the key to everything. It's the only way in or out of Lessu that doesn't involve a several-day journey around the canyon system. Tambor knows this, which is why he's fortified both ends with heavy artillery and droid battalions."
Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's image leaned forward slightly, his fingers steepled as he considered the tactical implications. "I fear this campaign may drag on indefinitely if we cannot find a way to breach their defenses. The Republic cannot afford a prolonged siege while other systems fall to Separatist forces."
Senator Free Taa's hologram wavered slightly as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "The Chancellor is right to be concerned. My people have suffered enough under this occupation. Every day we delay means more Twi'leks dying in labor camps or being sold into slavery by Tambor's criminal associates."
For once, Cham found himself in agreement with his political rival. "On this point, Senator, we are of one mind. Combined with my resistance forces and the Republic military assets, we finally have the strength to assault Lessu directly and end this occupation once and for all."
Mace Windu raised a cautioning hand, his expression troubled. "There is one factor that complicates any direct assault—the civilian population. Our scouts report thousands of Twi'lek refugees sheltering in settlements around Lessu's perimeter. Any large-scale military action risks massive civilian casualties."
Master Yoda nodded gravely, his ears drooping with concern. "Protect the innocent, we must. The path to victory, unclear it remains."
Cham's patience finally snapped, his voice rising with frustration and desperation. "So what exactly are you suggesting, Master Jedi? That we continue to deliberate while my people suffer under Tambor's brutal rule? Every hour we spend in this room planning means more of my kinsmen disappearing into his factories, never to be seen again!"
Steve Rogers stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention from everyone in the room. The Super Soldier's calm confidence was a stark contrast to the political tensions swirling around them.
"Don't count us out yet, Mr. Syndulla," Steve said firmly. "My team and I didn't come all this way just to watch from the sidelines. We can help retake the capital while minimizing civilian casualties."
Cham turned to face the Avenger, his expression skeptical despite the respect he'd developed for Pietro's abilities. "Captain Rogers, I've seen what your speedster can accomplish, and I don't question your team's courage. But Lessu isn't some small outpost—it's a fortress city defended by thousands of battle droids and automated defenses. Even with your remarkable abilities..."
"The six of us can take Lessu," Steve interrupted, his voice carrying absolute conviction. "We've faced worse odds than this before."
The Twi'lek resistance leader shook his head slowly, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "Just six people? Captain, I've watched Pietro single-handedly destroy entire droid patrols, and I don't doubt that your other teammates possess similar capabilities. But retaking my home city... that's a different scale of operation entirely."
Steve's expression remained calm and confident. "Here's what I propose: my team spearheads the assault on Lessu while the Republic forces focus on protecting and evacuating the civilian settlements. We create multiple diversions, draw Tambor's forces away from the refugees, and punch through his defenses before he can organize an effective response."
Mace Windu crossed his arms, his tactical mind working through the implications. "It's an ambitious plan, Captain Rogers. The advantage is that our regular forces wouldn't be tied up in a prolonged siege, leaving them free to establish defensive perimeters around the refugee camps."
Cham studied the holographic display intently, his mind racing through the possibilities. "Tambor has spent months fortifying Lessu's approaches. The plasma bridge is lined with automated turrets, and there are droid manufacturing facilities built into the cliffs themselves."
Steve's smile was confident, almost predatory. "Mr. Syndulla, you're about to learn something important about the Avengers: there's no such thing as an impossible mission. We don't do easy—we do necessary."
Later that evening, in a quieter section of the resistance base, Cham Syndulla found himself in deep conversation with Mace Windu and Steve Rogers. The three men stood on a temporary observation deck, looking out over the sprawling refugee camp that had grown around the base like a small city.
"My people have endured so much, Master Windu," Cham said, his voice heavy with the weight of leadership. The exhaustion was evident in every line of his weathered face, the result of months of constant warfare and impossible decisions. "When the Separatists first invaded, we thought the Republic would come to our aid immediately. Instead, we've been fighting a guerrilla war for over a year."
Mace's expression softened slightly, showing a rare glimpse of the compassion that lay beneath his stern exterior. "You've accomplished more than most planetary resistance movements, Syndulla. Your people's courage and resilience have inspired Republic forces across the galaxy."
Cham turned his gaze toward Steve, gratitude evident in his eyes. "I owe you a particular debt, Captain Rogers. Your Pietro Maximoff has become something of a legend among my people. They call him 'Te Abiish'—the Silver Wind. Children who have never known anything but war and hiding have started to smile again, knowing that someone is out there fighting for them."
Before Steve could respond, the sound of running feet interrupted their conversation. A group of Twi'lek children burst onto the observation deck, laughing and chasing each other in some elaborate game. One of them, a girl with distinctive light green skin and bright eyes, stumbled and fell hard onto the metal decking.
Cham was moving before the child's knees hit the ground, scooping her up with the practiced ease of a father who had dealt with countless scraped knees and bruised elbows.
"Hera, my dear one, you must be more careful," he said gently, checking her for injuries with obvious concern. "These temporary structures aren't built for children to play on."
"I'm sorry, Papa," Hera said, her voice small but determined. "I was just trying to keep up with the older kids."
Cham's expression melted into one of pure paternal love as he brushed dust from his daughter's clothes. "I know, little one. But this makeshift camp is becoming more crowded every day as more refugees arrive. If you're not careful, you might hurt yourself or someone else."
Hera nodded solemnly, understanding the seriousness in her father's voice despite her young age. Around them, the other children had stopped their games, watching the interaction with the kind of mature awareness that came from growing up in wartime.
As Hera rejoined her friends, moving more carefully now, Cham turned back to his companions. "Pietro Maximoff will be remembered in Twi'lek history, Captain Rogers. These children see him as a genuine hero—not because of propaganda or political speeches, but because he's shown them that good people still exist in this galaxy."
Steve chuckled, a warm sound that contrasted with the serious nature of their surroundings. "Don't let Pietro hear you praising him like that, Cham. His ego is already large enough to have its own gravitational pull."
Their moment of levity was shattered by the urgent beeping of Mace's wrist communicator. The Jedi Master activated the device immediately, his expression shifting back to professional alertness.
"Commander Ponds, report," Mace said crisply.
The clone commander's voice crackled through the comm system, tension evident even through the static. "General, we've encountered a serious complication. The Separatists have begun systematic bombardment of towns and villages in a fifty-kilometer radius around Lessu. We haven't taken direct hits yet, but we're in desperate need of medical supplies and personnel. The civilian casualties are mounting."
Cham's face went pale, his knuckles white as he gripped the observation deck's railing. The thought of his people being slaughtered in their homes filled him with a cold rage that threatened to overwhelm his tactical thinking.
"I'm dispatching medical teams and reinforcements immediately," Mace promised. "Maintain defensive positions and begin evacuating civilians to safer areas."
"Acknowledged, General. Ponds out."
As the communication ended, Cham turned to his companions with barely controlled fury. "What do the Separatists gain by bombing defenseless villages? These aren't military targets—they're homes, schools, medical centers!"
Steve's expression grew grim, his memories of World War II providing context that he wished he didn't possess. "It's a scorched earth retreat, Cham. When military commanders know they're losing, sometimes they try to inflict maximum damage on their way out. It's psychological warfare designed to break your people's will to resist."
"So they know they're defeated, and this is their revenge?!" Cham's voice rose with outrage. "Murdering innocents because they can't face military defeat with honor?"
Mace placed a steadying hand on the Twi'lek leader's shoulder. "We can end this now, Syndulla, but it requires unified action. You must reach an accommodation with Senator Free Taa. Personal animosity cannot be allowed to interfere with military necessity."
Cham looked out at the refugee camp, at the children playing despite everything they'd endured, at the families huddled around cooking fires sharing meager rations. His jaw clenched as he made the hardest decision a leader could make—putting his people's needs above his personal pride.
"Arrange the meeting," he said quietly. "I'll talk to the Senator."
The three men returned to the operations room, where the holographic projectors flickered to life once again. Senator Free Taa's image appeared, looking as comfortable and well-fed as ever in his plush quarters aboard a Republic cruiser safely positioned in orbit.
"Senator Free Taa," Mace began formally, "I believe Cham Syndulla wishes to discuss the coordination of our final assault on Lessu."
Cham stepped forward, his expression carefully controlled despite the emotional turmoil he felt. "Senator, it's time for us to put aside our differences and unite to liberate our homeworld from Separatist control. Our people are dying while we argue about politics."
Free Taa's expression remained skeptical, his small eyes studying the resistance leader with obvious distrust. "While I appreciate the Jedi Order's commitment to liberating Ryloth, and I certainly trust Chancellor Palpatine's intentions, I must ask how I can trust you, Syndulla. My sources suggest that you intend to seize political control of Ryloth once this conflict is resolved."
The accusation hit Cham like a physical blow, but instead of the explosive anger that Free Taa clearly expected, something colder and more dangerous settled over the resistance leader's features.
"Isn't freedom and prosperity enough for the Twi'lek people?" Cham asked, his voice deadly quiet. "For as long as I've known you, Free Taa, you've been exactly the same—a career politician more concerned with personal power and comfortable living than with the welfare of our people. While you've been attending Senate parties and negotiating trade deals on Coruscant, I've been here watching our kinsmen bleed and die!"
"I must remind you that I am the duly elected representative of—"
"Representative?" Cham's control finally snapped. "You represent the Twi'leks who can afford to live on Coruscant, who benefit from the Republic's trade policies, who've never seen a battle droid except in holovids! I represent the millions of Twi'leks who've lived under occupation, who've watched their children taken as slaves, who've had to choose between collaboration and death!"
Steve Rogers had heard enough. His voice cut through the argument like a sword, carrying the kind of authority that came from leading men into battle against impossible odds.
"Gentlemen!" Both Twi'leks stopped arguing, startled by the force of his interruption. "While you two are busy scoring political points against each other, Separatist bombers are turning Twi'lek settlements into smoking craters. Children are dying while you debate who has the right to lead them!"
Mace nodded approvingly, his arms crossed as he fixed both politicians with a stern glare. "Captain Rogers speaks the truth. If you cannot find a way to cooperate, then there's nothing more to discuss here. The Republic will not participate in a civil war disguised as a liberation."
The harsh words seemed to shock both Twi'leks into silence. The political implications of the Republic withdrawing support were clear to both men, despite their mutual antagonism.
The moment was interrupted by another urgent communication. Mace's wrist device activated, and Anakin's voice filled the room, tight with combat stress.
"Master Windu, we've got a developing situation. My fighter squadrons are engaging Separatist bombers as fast as we can intercept them, but there are too many spread across too wide an area. We can't provide adequate cover for ground operations and protect all the civilian targets simultaneously."
Mace's expression grew even more grim. "Do what you can, Skywalker. Focus on protecting our ground forces and the largest refugee concentrations. We'll have to accept that we can't save everyone."
"Understood, Master. Skywalker out."
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