**Chapter 173 – Shadows Beneath the Falling Sky**
The first feeling was not fear.
It was confusion.
Then—
Panic.
---
Kern stood at the edge of a high observation platform overlooking one of Muunilinst's primary financial districts. The city below was a perfect machine—symmetrical towers, flowing traffic lanes, and defensive formations layered with mathematical precision.
It was supposed to be untouchable.
Now it was breaking.
Above them, the sky was no longer calm. Flashes of light rippled across the upper atmosphere as orbital platforms died one by one. Explosions bloomed like artificial stars, followed by streaks of fire as debris began its descent.
Ror stood beside him, double-bladed red lightsaber already ignited, its twin blades humming with violent energy. His stance was tense, aggressive—like a predator waiting for something to tear apart.
Artel Darc, by contrast, remained still.
Watching.
Calculating.
"This shouldn't be happening," Kern muttered.
Artel didn't respond immediately.
Because it wasn't just the destruction that was wrong.
It was the *speed*.
The Republic fleet wasn't just winning—
It was dismantling the defense network with surgical precision.
"No," Artel finally said quietly. "This is controlled."
Kern turned toward him. "Controlled?"
"Battle meditation," Artel replied. "It has to be."
Ror scoffed, spinning his saber once in irritation. "Jedi tricks."
"Not Jedi," Artel corrected, his eyes narrowing slightly as another explosion lit the sky. "Not like this."
He could feel it.
Not directly—not the way a true Sith might—but enough to recognize the pattern.
Organic forces were moving too cleanly.
Too efficiently.
There was no hesitation.
No confusion.
The Republic fleet moved as if it shared a single mind.
Kern exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself.
"It doesn't affect the droids," he said.
Artel nodded. "No. But it doesn't need to."
Below them, formations of B1 battle droids began mobilizing in rigid lines. Tanks repositioned. Walkers adjusted their firing arcs. Commands were issued in mechanical monotone across the city's defense network.
Cold.
Ordered.
Unaffected.
But also—
Predictable.
---
A droid officer stepped forward, its photoreceptors flickering as it processed incoming data.
"Scanning for enemy ground units," it reported. "No Republic signatures detected on planetary surface."
Kern frowned. "What?"
"That's impossible," Ror snapped. "They destroyed the orbital guns."
"Correction," the droid continued, "planetary defense cannons are no longer operational. Cause of destruction—unknown. No detected enemy presence at coordinates."
Ror's patience snapped.
In a blur of motion, he crossed the distance and ignited both ends of his saber fully.
The crimson blades carved through the droid in a single, violent arc.
Metal collapsed to the ground in sparking fragments.
"Useless," Ror growled.
The remaining droids didn't react.
They simply recalculated.
---
"Relax," Artel said calmly.
Kern turned toward him, disbelief written across his face. "Relax?"
Artel gestured toward the city below.
"We still hold the ground."
Kern hesitated.
Artel continued, his voice steady, almost reassuring.
"Over five million battle droids across this planet. Armored divisions. Walkers. Tanks. Defensive fortifications layered across every major district."
He paused briefly.
"And we sent the signal."
Kern's expression shifted slightly.
Yes.
The signal.
Dooku's contingency.
"The trap," Kern said quietly.
Artel nodded once. "It should be here soon."
Ror deactivated one end of his saber but kept the other burning.
"Let them come," he said.
---
Far below, deep within a fortified command complex, another conversation was unfolding.
"Lord San Hill."
The Muun leader turned sharply, his elongated features tightening with unease.
"What is it?" he demanded.
The tactical droid hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
"Final orbital transponder signals have gone offline."
San Hill froze.
"…Explain."
"All Banking Clan orbital defense platforms—destroyed. Recusant fleet—non-responsive. Remaining signals—Republic only."
Silence filled the chamber.
"No," San Hill said slowly. "That is not possible."
The droid continued without emotion.
"We have lost orbital control."
San Hill's composure cracked.
His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the edge of the command console.
"Count Dooku assured us this world was secure," he hissed. "He *assigned* those three to protect it."
His voice dropped, laced with anger.
"After the loss of Durge—after what we *paid* for his services—and the destruction of the assassin droid legions on Jablim—"
A sudden explosion shook the chamber violently.
The lights flickered.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
San Hill stumbled slightly, catching himself.
"What was that?" he snapped.
A nearby officer shouted, "Commander! Incoming bombardment!"
San Hill's head snapped toward him. "Bombardment?"
Confusion turned quickly into outrage.
"What are they firing?" he demanded. "Jedi do not bombard civilian populations!"
The officer hesitated.
Then looked back at the scanning display.
"…Sir…"
San Hill's voice sharpened. "Report!"
The officer swallowed.
"Scans indicate… debris."
San Hill blinked.
"…Debris?"
"Yes, sir. Large-scale debris. Ship fragments. Multiple sections of destroyed vessels entering atmosphere."
Another impact rocked the city.
Far above, burning wreckage tore through the sky.
Fragments of warships.
Chunks of destroyed platforms.
Entire sections of hull plating, still glowing from orbital fire, crashing down toward the surface.
Uncontrolled.
Indiscriminate.
Devastating.
San Hill stared at the display, disbelief giving way to horror.
"They're… dropping the battle on us…"
---
Back on the observation platform, the three dark acolytes watched as the first pieces of flaming wreckage slammed into the distant cityscape.
The ground trembled.
Smoke began to rise.
Kern's voice was barely audible.
"This isn't war…"
Artel's eyes remained fixed on the sky.
"No," he said quietly.
"This is strategy."
Another explosion lit the horizon.
Ror ignited his second blade again.
A savage grin spread across his face.
"Good."
He stepped forward.
"Let them come down here."
Above them—
The sky was falling.
And Muunilinst was beginning to burn.