Meanwhile, aboard the flagship Acclamator, the Jedi Council convened. Master Yoda listened silently as Mace Windu delivered his report.
"…The special clone squad that infiltrated the arena collected all the bodies of the Jedi and brought them aboard the cruiser. The death of Master Trebor has been confirmed," Windu said, his face as stony as ever. "We failed. If it hadn't been for the timely intervention of the clone army, it is unlikely anyone would have survived. Masters, Knights, Padawans… nearly sixty-five Jedi perished, and twenty-seven lost their minds and will require recovery at the Temple." He spoke with the precision of a soldier; not once did emotion touch his voice.
"How are Kenobi and Skywalker?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. "I heard they were badly injured by Count Dooku."
"Their pride suffered more than their bodies," Shaak Ti replied. "Skywalker will need a prosthetic arm."
"Strong has my former Padawan become. The dark side of the Force I sense in him," Yoda added, closing his eyes.
Shaak Ti turned to the Grand Master. "There is one Jedi I am particularly interested in. He survived the arena battle but was seriously wounded—Dagon Marek. To my shame, I had not encountered him before."
"Hm-mm," Yoda mused. "This young Jedi is from the Balance Corps, a student of Knight Nhon. Why does your interest fall on him, hmm?"
"He is not very strong, but something about him draws me. He intrigues me."
Yoda fell silent, sinking into meditation. "He has walked the edge of life. Doubts torment him."
"As they do all of us now," Shaak Ti said quietly, bowing her head.
---
I awoke two hours before the ship emerged from hyperspace. My wounds had healed, though I kept the bandages in place—better safe than sorry.
With a clear head, I reviewed the events of the previous day and finalized my plan of action.
First: eat. I hadn't touched food or drink in nearly a day. I rose slowly from my bunk, a little dizzy but steady enough. Looking at Skywalker snoring, I silently apologized—three times. You won't see Ahsoka Tano among the other Padawans, Chosen One. I'll keep that student for myself. With her talent and temper, she could be invaluable—and perhaps, she could even help save me someday.
Following directions from a nearby clone, I hobbled to the canteen. The Acclamator was massive—a wedge-shaped vessel seven hundred meters long, four hundred meters wide, capable of holding sixteen thousand troops. It took nearly twenty minutes to reach the mess hall.
Inside, clones filled the room. I joined the short line, collected a tray of rations, and found a seat. One clone's eyes followed me, and, to my surprise, I recognized him.
"Hello, Lieutenant."
"Sir," he nodded, then asked, "How did you recognize me?" Some nearby clones leaned in, curious.
"I remember you, Lieutenant. We fought together."
"But how? We all look the same."
"No. You're different. I can tell. I'm telling you this as a Jedi." I began eating, the bland rations barely registering as I ran through my mental checklist.
---
The main clone forces were now arriving on Coruscant. Once Palpatine confirmed Jedi as generals, they would deploy across the galaxy in days. The Separatists would not wait to recover; their strikes on unprotected systems were imminent. Time was short—seventy-two hours at most.
I considered my resources. The basic version of "Ethan head" could function as a temporary blackbox, storing my thoughts and plans, after all it had the brain of a human potatoe farmer, comedy , at least it was better than a droid seeing organics at waste of resources.
Step one: the Archives. Even if I could not study directly, I could download data on ancient wars and campaigns. Strategy remained constant, and knowledge of past campaigns would be invaluable. Coordinates for secret sanctuary pipelines existed in my memory, but they were best kept secret for now. There were no academies for command staff here, not yet—but real examples could teach me more than theory ever could.
Step two: find Tano. She would be my Padawan. Almost fourteen now, she had been overlooked by others for her temper and sharp tongue. That would not matter to me. Her talent was extraordinary, and in this war, she could save lives—starting with mine. If trained properly, she could one day stand against Grievous, Ventress, or any dark acolyte. Her first encounter with Ventress had proven she could survive… barely, but survive nonetheless.
---
Finally, we emerged from hyperspace. Coruscant stretched below—a city-planet, the capital of the Galactic Republic, home to over a trillion beings. A metropolis of spires, towers, and bustling platforms for as far as the eye could see. My life had irrevocably changed.
Fate, I accepted your challenge.
Shortly after arrival, the Jedi and Senator Amidala boarded a shuttle bound for the Jedi Temple. The galaxy awaited.