**The Fall of Muunilinst**
*Dagon Marek POV*
War, at its highest level, was not about destruction.
It was about **control**.
And as I stood at the edge of the advancing front, watching the Republic war machine unfold exactly as I had envisioned, I could feel it—total, undeniable control.
Below me, the battlefield moved like a living organism.
Perfectly synchronized.
Perfectly obedient.
The combined assault force advanced in layered precision, each unit complementing the other with mechanical efficiency. The **V-19 Torrent starfighters** screamed overhead in tight formations, their cannons flashing as they strafed droid columns with ruthless accuracy. Beneath them, **MAAT gunships** and **Raven-class gunships** swept low, unleashing torrents of laser fire and micro-missiles into dense formations of B1 and B2 battle droids.
Explosions rippled across the city streets.
Metal bodies were torn apart in waves.
And still—
The line advanced.
The **LAAT carriers** hovered above the battlefield like moving fortresses, deploying reinforcements and heavy equipment with flawless timing. Troopers dropped into combat zones with precision, their movements guided—subtly, invisibly—by my battle meditation.
They did not hesitate.
They did not falter.
They did not break.
Because I would not allow it.
Further ahead, the heavy elements of the assault carved their way through the heart of Muunilinst's defenses.
The **AT-AT walkers** moved forward with slow, crushing inevitability.
Not the Republic prototypes.
No—
These were something else now.
Modified.
Refined.
Their design had evolved—longer legs, reinforced armor plating, heavier forward cannons. They resembled something closer to what I had once known… something from a future that had not yet come.
Each step shook the ground.
Each shot obliterated enemy armor.
CIS tanks didn't stand a chance.
They were crushed.
Erased.
Beside them, **Juggernaut tanks** thundered forward, their massive wheels tearing through streets and structures alike. Buildings collapsed under their weight as they rolled through urban strongpoints, turning defensive positions into rubble in seconds.
It was overwhelming.
And that was the point.
Shock.
Speed.
Dominance.
No drawn-out engagement.
No room for the enemy to adapt.
They would be broken before they even understood what was happening.
---
I had my doubts about the transport strategy.
Even now, watching it unfold, part of me still acknowledged the risk.
Using **Arquitens-class light cruisers** as heavy deployment platforms was… unconventional.
I almost laughed thinking about it.
We had dedicated heavy transports for a reason.
But those transports were slow.
Predictable.
Too slow for the kind of war I was fighting.
Instead, I had pushed for something different.
Each Arquitens was fitted with reinforced magnetic cargo clamps—powerful enough to carry **three AT-AT walkers or three Juggernaut tanks per vessel**.
It wasn't elegant.
It wasn't standard.
But it was fast.
The cruisers would drop into low orbit, release their payloads, and within minutes—
An entire armored division would be on the ground.
No waiting.
No staging.
No delay.
Just war.
And it worked.
Better than I had expected.
The sky itself had become part of the assault. Cruisers hovered above, providing constant fire support, their guns targeting enemy armor, fortifications, and concentrations of droids with surgical precision.
Air superiority.
Ground dominance.
Total battlefield integration.
Exactly as it should be.
---
"Two hours," Ethan's voice echoed in my ear.
I didn't need the reminder.
But I appreciated it.
"Confirmed," I replied.
Two hours for Muunilinst.
Eight hours total.
Boz Pity.
Mygeeto.
And now—
This.
Three worlds broken in less than half a day.
The Republic would call it efficiency.
The Jedi would call it something else.
I didn't care.
There was still one task remaining.
Leadership.
Decapitate command—
And the rest collapses.
Ahead of us, the central command tower rose above the city, its pristine structure untouched—so far—by the chaos surrounding it.
That would change.
As we approached, a familiar distortion rippled in the air beside the gunship.
The **Scimitar** decloaked.
Perfect timing.
I allowed myself a faint smile.
"Puck," I said calmly. "Set charges."
The commandos were already moving.
"We get in, capture the leadership… and send the droids to the scrap piles."
"Yes, sir," Puck replied instantly.
Fordo's voice followed.
"ARC troopers—lock and load."
The gunship descended rapidly.
The moment we reached optimal altitude—
The charges detonated.
---
The upper levels of the command tower exploded inward.
Glass shattered.
Steel buckled.
The ceiling collapsed under the force of the blast.
Before the debris even settled—
We moved.
Clone troopers launched forward using jetpacks and repulsor boots—technology we had recovered and adapted from Jablim. They surged through the breach like a storm, weapons already firing as they entered.
I didn't need propulsion.
I stepped forward—
And unleashed the Force.
A shockwave burst outward from me, tearing through the remaining droid guards like paper. Metal bodies were thrown across the chamber, smashed against walls, ripped apart before they could even raise their weapons.
I stepped through the destruction.
And kept moving.
Turrets activated instantly.
Automated defenses descended from the ceiling, targeting us with lethal precision.
I didn't slow.
"Moon Breathing—Ninth Form…"
The words were quiet.
Controlled.
"Waning Moonswaths."
My blades moved.
Fluid.
Effortless.
Dozens of turrets were cut apart in seconds, their targeting systems destroyed before they could fire more than a single shot. Sparks and fragments rained down around us as the path cleared.
Too easy.
Then—
I felt it.
Darkness.
Not mine.
Crude.
Unstable.
Untrained.
I stopped.
Slowly turned.
The first came screaming.
A Zabrak.
His movements were aggressive but sloppy, his connection to the Force unrefined and chaotic. A red blade ignited as he charged directly at me.
Predictable.
Two strikes.
Clean.
Efficient.
His body fell in three separate pieces before he even understood what had happened.
The second followed immediately.
Another Zabrak—but this one reached out with the Force.
Lightning crackled from his hand.
Uncontrolled.
Weak.
I stepped forward into it.
Ignored it.
And drove my fist into his chest.
The impact collapsed his ribcage instantly, the Force amplifying the blow as his body lifted off the ground before crashing lifelessly behind him.
Silence fell for half a second.
Then—
The third.
A human.
Young.
Blond.
His grip on his lightsaber trembled.
His eyes locked onto mine.
Fear.
Pure, unfiltered fear.
"Monster," he said.
I didn't respond.
He charged anyway.
Desperation.
Not skill.
Not discipline.
Just fear.
Before he could even reach me—
Blaster fire cut him down.
Puck and Fordo stood behind me, rifles still raised.
The body hit the ground.
Still.
---
A moment passed.
Then Puck spoke.
"Sir… are those what the Republic warned about? Enemy Force users?"
His tone carried confusion more than concern.
"They seem weak."
Fordo nodded slightly.
"Very weak," he added. "I mean—we know you're… well…"
He hesitated.
"Different. But the rest…"
I deactivated my lightsabers slowly, the hum fading into silence.
"No," I said calmly.
"They're not weak."
I turned slightly, looking at the fallen bodies.
"Most of them are former Padawans. Or young Jedi."
I paused.
"They've never seen real war."
I looked back at them.
"The key thing to remember is simple."
I gestured toward the battlefield outside.
"Too many enemies."
I tapped the side of my head lightly.
"They can't concentrate."
Then—
"Scare them…"
My voice dropped slightly.
"And they're just mortals with a fancy sword."
Fordo nodded.
Puck didn't argue.
They understood.
Because they had seen it.
---
Footsteps approached quickly.
Devil and Lucky entered the chamber.
"Sir," Devil said, removing his helmet slightly. "San Hill fled when the gunships started appearing."
Of course he did.
Coward.
"But," Lucky added, "we captured the rest of the leadership."
Good.
I nodded once.
"That's enough."
We moved deeper into the command chamber.
The remaining Muun officials stood together, pale, trembling, their composure completely shattered. Their world—built on control and calculation—had collapsed in a matter of hours.
They looked at me like I was something unnatural.
Something wrong.
Maybe they weren't entirely wrong.
I stepped forward.
Calm.
Measured.
Controlled.
"Now," I said.
A brief pause.
"Where were we…"
I looked directly at them.
"Oh, right."
My voice remained steady.
"Surrender."
Another pause.
"Please."
No one spoke.
No one resisted.
They understood.
They had already lost.
"You are under arrest."
One by one—
They lowered their heads.
And just like that—
Muunilinst fell.