Ahsoka turned toward her Master.
He was frozen on his speeder, perfectly still. His eyes were closed, his expression tense.
Suddenly his body jerked.
A thin line of blood ran from his nose.
"Master?"
The Togruta rushed toward him in alarm, but he gently squeezed her shoulder in reassurance while raising his voice to address the command center.
"Attention! Enemy bombers incoming! Everything you've got — power it up! We have seven minutes!"
Blam sprinted toward the communications console, snatching the headset from the startled operator.
"Everyone, everyone, everyone! Air-Three! I repeat, Air-Three! Prepare to repel an air attack! Five minutes to readiness!"
Ahsoka moved to the wall panel displaying radar data. Sumeragi stepped beside her.
Leaning closer, she whispered quietly.
"Commander… how does the General manage to predict the enemy's actions?"
"Well… we Jedi can sometimes foresee attacks during battle," Ahsoka replied just as quietly. "I can see maybe a second ahead. But I'm still far from a master. It takes a lot of concentration."
Before Sumeragi could reply, the radar operator shouted.
"The enemy forces have begun their attack!"
Everyone rushed toward the tactical table.
Everyone except the Jedi.
Dagon remained seated, eyes still closed, immersed in the Force.
For the next several minutes Ahsoka watched the display anxiously as the Separatist formations advanced.
Lines of droid bombers streamed toward the base.
*What are they hoping for?* she wondered.
Then the siren began screaming.
"Targets approaching!" the radar operator called out. "Identifying… enemy aircraft! Sixty… one hundred… one hundred twenty… one hundred forty-three… one hundred seventy… two hundred forty!"
Blam grabbed the comm again.
"Contact Air Group Alpha! Deploy from the mountain! Send those droid bombers to the scrap heap!"
"Yes, sir!" came the immediate reply.
At that moment another voice cut across the room.
"Two frigates have left orbit!" Ensign Mirro shouted. "They're descending toward the base! Approaching from two vectors — descent angle sixty!"
Dagon opened his eyes.
"Deploy the cannon."
---
### The SPAR Cannon
Far outside the base perimeter, massive armored plates slid open.
From the underground silo, the **F-SPAR cannon** slowly rose into the open air.
Power surged through the massive weapon.
A brilliant beam lanced into the sky.
The first Separatist frigate barely had time to maneuver.
The beam struck its hull.
For a split second the ship hung motionless.
Then it exploded.
The burning wreckage tumbled down, crashing into the distant mountains.
Gasps echoed across the command center.
"Target two!" Mirro shouted.
The cannon fired again.
Another beam of concentrated energy tore through the atmosphere.
The second frigate attempted evasive maneuvers—
Too slow.
The beam punched straight through its reactor core.
The frigate detonated in orbit, the flaming debris scattering across the sky outside the defensive perimeter.
Cheers erupted throughout the base.
But above them the real battle had just begun.
---
### The Sky Battle
Clone fighters burst from their hidden mountain hangars.
"Blue Squadron launching!"
"Gold Squadron in the air!"
Green laser fire streaked across the sky as Republic **interceptors** roared forward to meet the incoming bombers.
"Bandits at twelve o'clock!" one clone pilot shouted over the comm.
"Copy that! Locking on!"
A pair of Hyena bombers transformed mid-air, stabilizing for their bombing run—
Before twin green laser streaks sliced them apart.
"Two droids down!" the pilot laughed. "These buckets of bolts can't fly!"
Another pilot cut across the formation.
"Watch your six! Vultures coming in fast!"
"I see them!"
The sky became chaos.
Explosions lit the clouds.
Bombers detonated one after another under waves of interceptor fire.
The attack formation collapsed before it could even reach the base.
It had become a complete **turkey shoot**.
---
### In Orbit
Zero-Nine watched the battle reports in silence.
His processors ran through thousands of calculations.
The bombing run had failed.
His frigates had been destroyed.
The Republic possessed a weapon capable of destroying capital ships from the surface.
A new variable.
A dangerous one.
But the battle was not yet lost.
"Report," the tactical droid ordered.
"Sir, multiple Republic ships detected. Approaching from east and west."
Zero-Nine paused.
"Impossible."
Another sensor report appeared.
A full Republic fleet emerging from hyperspace.
The tactical droid immediately reached a conclusion.
"Initiate emergency hyperspace jump—"
The order was never completed.
From the planet below, the SPAR cannon fired once more.
The beam pierced space.
It struck the **CIS flagship** directly through its bridge section.
The Lucrehulk erupted in a blinding explosion.
Zero-Nine ceased functioning instantly.
---
### Republic Fleet Arrival
Commander **Kinaun** stood on the bridge of his flagship as hyperspace stars stretched around his fleet.
Soon.
Very soon.
"Squadron exiting hyperspace!" the navigator called.
Space snapped back to reality.
Four dozen Republic ships emerged together.
Twenty-four **Acclamator assault ships** spread out into formation.
The Separatist fleet was already in low orbit above the planet.
Kinaun smiled.
Gone were the days when he had to retreat from slightly larger enemy forces.
Now he commanded a fleet capable of crushing anything in its path.
But something caught his eye.
Debris.
Burning wreckage scattered across orbit.
Looks like the Jedi had already done some work.
"Commander Kinaun speaking!" he broadcast across the fleet. "All ships! Maneuver D-45! Launch fighters! Attack the enemy!"
Engines roared.
Republic warships surged forward.
Turbolaser fire lit the darkness of space with streaks of crimson and blue.
Separatist ships turned to meet the attack.
Hundreds of fighters launched from both sides.
The Acclamators advanced steadily, firing relentless volleys while escort frigates covered their flanks and intercepted incoming droid fighters.
The battle for orbit had begun.
---
### On the Ground
CT-7047 rolled across the dirt, narrowly dodging a droid blaster bolt.
He fired back, the blue blast punching through a battle droid's chest.
The grenade launcher was empty now.
The useless tube lay beside the unconscious body of Forty-One — the trooper whose **DC-15** rifle he had borrowed.
Bad luck.
Their squad had nearly taken a direct hit from a proton bomb earlier.
Only the General's intervention had saved them.
Forty-Seven doubted anyone else in that crater had survived.
He slid into the trench and slammed a new power cell into the rifle.
Blaster fire continued raging around him.
Droids advanced through the smoke.
Forty-Seven took aim again.
After all…
It was his duty.
Behind him, one of the surviving blaster cannons continued firing steadily into the advancing droid ranks.