The command deck of the Republic flagship Negotiator hummed with energy. Holo-displays filled the air with blue light — star maps, communications feeds, tactical projections. Kaelen stood near the main viewport, hands clasped behind his back, feeling the quiet vibration of the hyperdrive through his boots.
Beyond the glass, streaks of light stretched toward infinity. The fleet was en route to the Balmorra sector, following the trail of the Malevolence.
Obi-Wan strode into the command pit, his robe sweeping behind him. "Report."
Admiral Yularen's voice was clipped but steady. "General Skywalker has launched his strike group. Shadow Squadron is proceeding through the Balmorra Run."
Kaelen glanced at the star map. "That's suicide. The nebula's dense with gas storms and debris fields."
Yularen nodded grimly. "Which is precisely why the Separatists won't expect it."
Obi-Wan's expression hovered between pride and worry. "Skywalker never met a reckless idea he didn't like."
Kaelen couldn't help but smile faintly. "Maybe that's why it works."
Aboard the Twilight – The Strike Begins
Through the holofeed, they could see Anakin's voice echoing through the comm network.
"All wings check in. Remember, tight formation through the run. R-7, keep those stabilizers steady."
Kaelen watched the tiny blue silhouettes of Y-Wings weaving through a maze of ion clouds. Their engines flickered, vanishing and reappearing amid storms of lightning.
He felt the pulse of the Force within the flow of their movements — like threads of energy connecting them. A living rhythm, he realized.
"Come on, Anakin…" Obi-Wan murmured.
Ahsoka's voice filtered through the static:
"Hang in there, Shadow Two. Keep tight!"
Then Plo Koon's calm tone:
"Steady yourselves. Trust in the Force."
Kaelen inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. The Force flared bright around him — chaotic, alive, every pilot a flickering spark of will. Without thinking, he reached toward them, feeling the distance between stars shrink.
Inside the Nebula
"General, massive energy readings," Yularen reported. "The Malevolence has entered firing range of the medical station."
Obi-Wan leaned over the holo. "If Skywalker doesn't reach them soon…"
"I know," Kaelen whispered, his eyes half-closed.
He felt the storm — Grievous's monstrous ship cutting through space, its ion cannon charging with a low vibration that echoed through the Force like thunder. Against it, Anakin's small squadron was a handful of sparks.
Kaelen centered himself, exhaling slowly. The hum of the command deck faded. He could feel Anakin — stubborn, focused, the bright core of a fire that refused to go out.
They need calm.
They need focus.
He didn't move, but a wave of stillness rippled outward from him — subtle, quiet, yet reaching far beyond the room.
On the holofeed, Shadow Squadron's flight pattern steadied. Y-Wings that had drifted off course realigned as if guided by a single heartbeat. Pilots' voices, once frantic, turned resolute.
The Battle Turns
The Malevolence loomed ahead of them on the display, a massive crescent bristling with power. Its ion cannon lit with blue lightning — then faltered.
Yularen blinked. "What…?"
Obi-Wan's lips curved. "He's done it."
Anakin's transmission cut in, filled with static but triumphant:
"Direct hit on the ion cannon! It's offline!"
Kaelen opened his eyes as the tension snapped. The wave of concentration that had flowed through him ebbed away.
The holomap brightened as Plo Koon's fleet emerged from hyperspace.
"Skywalker, this is the Triumphant. We are here to assist."
The Republic cruisers opened fire, crimson bolts hammering the crippled Malevolence. The great ship reeled, its shields flickering.
On the deck of the Negotiator, clones cheered.
Obi-Wan allowed himself a small, weary smile. "Leave it to Anakin to make the impossible look effortless."
Kaelen nodded, though his breathing was uneven. "He had help," he said quietly, not out of pride but wonder. "For a moment… I could feel them all — the pilots, the battle, the current of the Force tying them together."
Obi-Wan turned to him, brow raised. "You reached them?"
"I don't know how," Kaelen admitted. "It wasn't control. It was… harmony. The Force wanted them to survive."
Obi-Wan studied him for a long moment. "That sounds remarkably like Battle Meditation. A rare gift."
"I wasn't trying to do anything."
"Exactly," Obi-Wan said softly. "That's why it worked."
Aftermath
The Malevolence limped away into the darkness, its engines sparking, its crew in chaos.Plo Koon's fleet began rescue operations for the medical convoy, and the Republic's first true victory against Grievous rippled across the HoloNet.
Later, as the adrenaline faded, Kaelen found himself standing once more before the viewport. The stars looked calmer now, as if reflecting his own heart.
Obi-Wan joined him, tea in hand. "Not every Jedi can sway the tide of a battle with thought alone. Be cautious with that gift."
Kaelen turned to him. "You think it's dangerous?"
"I think it's powerful. And power without balance can destroy just as easily as it saves."
Kaelen nodded, the echo of his vision whispering again — Mandalorians clashing, fleets burning, one will guiding thousands.
The galaxy forgets. But blood remembers.
He clenched his hands at his sides. "I'll be careful."
"I know you will," Obi-Wan said with quiet confidence.
Outside, the stars of the Balmorra Run flickered like a million tiny sabers — the same stars that had watched Revan's wars long ago, and now watched a new generation learning the same lessons again.