Blitzkrieg stands on the bridge of the Finest Hour, his arms clasped behind his back.

  He looks at the camera, then winks.

  "Welcome to Season Two, lads and lasses." He says. "I hope you enjoy it."

  ?

  GALAXY IN CHAOS

  It has been five months since General Blitzkrieg was last seen on the frontlines.

  Many in the GAR believe he was destroyed.

  They are wrong.

  Blitzkrieg has been on a secret mission from Count Dooku, sending him to the other side of the galaxy, to a planet called Batuu, to secure a relic from an ancient Jedi Temple that was built on the surface.

  In reality, this was a move by Darth Sidious to prolong the war, by sending one of the most competent generals in the CIS army away to some distant corner of the galaxy.

  And now the Republic has its feet under it and is beginning to push back against the CIS war machine. But they are pushing back too fast.

  So now, Sidious has ordered Dooku to call back General Blitzkrieg to grind the war into a stalemate.

  But Darth Sidious has unknowingly lost complete control of one of the CIS's greatest assets.

  Dooku had been beginning to wonder just how much individuality Blitzkrieg has. And now that the prototype droid has recently revealed his new body to the leader of the Confederacy, Dooku now knows that Blitzkrieg is more than just a simple droid.

  But like any Dark Jedi, he has said nothing of that to his Master, and intends to use Blitzkrieg as his personal problem solver. Dooku has decided that while Grievous rages and kills Jedi, making a big show and grabbing the Republic's attention, Blitzkrieg will be used to solve difficult parts of the war that need a scalpel, rather than a sledgehammer.

  And now, Blitzkrieg has returned to the wider galaxy, and he has another target set squarely in his sights.

  ?

  2/17/7957 C.R.C

  Venator-Class Star Destroyer, The Resolute

  "We've decrypted the transmission, sir." A clone tech reported.

  Anakin and Obi-Wan walked over to the main console, but Anakin's thoughts were elsewhere, as they had been for a good while now.

  Five months.

  It had been five months since the last time he had seen General Blitzkrieg on Mandalore, and a lot of things had happened since then.

  After barely managing to get to the fleet in orbit and ordering a retreat, the whole situation with Mandalore devolved even further after he left. Bo-Katan Kryze was the Mandalor now, meaning she had apparently won the Darksaber of Tarre Vizsla from Pre Vizsla, and become the rightful ruler of the Mandalore system. But he had heard rumors that it was actually Blitzkrieg himself that had fought and killed Pre Vizsla, and then just gave the Darksaber to Bo-Katan.

  But the new Mandalor was just the tip of the iceberg, though.

  The Republic took a bad hit to its reputation with the Battle of Mandalore. Somehow, the entire thing had been misconstrued into a false-flag operation by the Republic, to force Mandalore and the Neutral Systems to comply and join the war with the threat of Separatist incursion, by way of inciting Death Watch to attack with reprogrammed battle droids.

  Thankfully, the reputation of himself and Obi-Wan were still… somewhat intact, since most people believed that the two of them were simply there to protect the Duchess in their position as Jedi and nothing more. It was the admiral in charge of the fleet that was in hot water, though, and Chancellor Palpatine, surprisingly enough.

  News came out by an anonymous whistleblower that there had been a rotating fleet of off the books ships just a day's jump away from Mandalore at all times, 'just in case the Separatists showed up to try and invade' they said. That fleet was called in when General Blitzkrieg's Star Wreckers showed up in orbit and requested an audience with Satine, while he and Obi-Wan were on the planet. And man did that cause problems after it came out.

  Blitzkrieg was acting as a diplomat at that time, and had even come with a reduced fleet as a sign of trust to the Duchess. By attacking his guards as soon as he saw them, believing the Duchess was in danger, Anakin had just changed the rules when it came to diplomats and negotiators on both sides. Even if Blitzkrieg was a droid, he was also a one of a kind prototype, which meant he was an individual, which was great for the Separatists' propaganda.

  "I don't think any of you realize just how precarious the situation here really is. How dangerously close you are to falling off this cliff, taking Mandalore, the Neutral Systems, the Jedi Order, and the Republic with you. If you kill me, or tamper with my processor or my body, you'll be signing the death warrants for countless of your Republic diplomats. Peace efforts across the whole galaxy will shudder to a halt because of this. All. Because. Of. You."

  Those words were banging around in Anakin's skull for the entire first month after the Battle of Mandalore, and unfortunately, Blitzkrieg's words rang true. Along with the things he said about false surrendering.

  "Did you know that because of your false surrenders on Christophsis and above Ryloth, the CIS Congress and High Command are actually evaluating the pros and cons of refusing all offers of surrender ever offered by a Jedi or Republic officer that's close to them? That's all because of you, Kenobi. They are actually debating offering no surrender to potentially surrendering clone units and Jedi. Because if the 'great Obi-Wan Kenobi' did it without even a slap on the wrist that means others can do exactly the same thing as him.

  "Do you want to know why offering a false surrender is a bad idea, Kenobi? Because if you do it enough, it teaches the other leaders in the CIS military to make battles vastly bloodier for no good reason. They will never take hostages or POWs because there will never be anyone left alive to imprison."

  And he was right.

  In a fiery speech that was recorded and spread from the CIS congress on the planet Raxus, Senator Bas Roland of Drunkenwell condemned the actions of the Republic at Mandalore.

  The only thing that stung more was the fact that Blitzkrieg knew.

  How did he know?!

  Somehow, Blitzkrieg knew of his and Padme's marriage to each other. The thought of someone else knowing made his chest tighten in fear.

  Anakin still remembered the meeting in the Council chambers that he was ordered to be in, shortly after arriving back on Coruscant.

  —

  8/27/7956 C.R.C

  Jedi Temple, Coruscant

  The mood in the High Council chambers was heavier than usual. Anakin could feel it. He'd made a mistake.

  Even Yoda's ears drooped with unspoken weight.

  "…and the Separatist congress has formally petitioned for the Galactic Senate to sanction Jedi military leaders for falsely surrendering, among other things," Master Depa Billaba reported, her tone measured but clearly disturbed.

  Mace Windu leaned forward, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. "They're playing to the Neutral Systems. Senator Bas Roland's speech has spread across a dozen sectors already, and the worst part is… there's just enough truth in it to be dangerous."

  "General Blitzkrieg was not acting under any Separatist military directive," Plo Koon added. "He was a diplomat, yes, but unofficial. The fault lies with the Separatist command for failing to disclose his status."

  "Regardless," Ki-Adi-Mundi interrupted, "Anakin and Obi-Wan's strike on Blitzkrieg's escort is perceived as an assassination attempt. The CIS is using this to prove that we'll kill anyone under a flag of peace, even if that thing is a droid. The concept of neutral ground is beginning to crumble."

  A heavy silence settled over the chamber.

  Finally, Obi-Wan spoke, his voice graver than usual. Present only as a non-voting participant after his actions on Mandalore, his words carried weight. "We operated under the assumption that the Duchess was in danger. The situation moved too quickly to rectify after that."

  Anakin's mind flashed back to that chaotic moment on Mandalore, how everything spiraled beyond their control. Blitzkrieg had been different. There was something about him, something unsettling. And how did he know things no one else did?

  A cold voice echoed in his mind, repeating the words Blitzkrieg had uttered in battle:

  "I also know that right after the First Battle of Geonosis, once you returned to Coruscant and became a Knight, you went to Naboo and married Senator Padme Amidala, with only your droids as witnesses."

  Anakin's chest tightened. How could Blitzkrieg have known?

  His secret, held tightly even from Obi-Wan, exposed by a droid in the heat of battle.

  He had sworn to protect Padme, to keep their marriage hidden. The Jedi Code forbade attachment, yet here he was, married, hopelessly in love, and terrified. Blitzkrieg wasn't just a threat to the war effort. He was something far more dangerous.

  Anakin swallowed, trying to push the thoughts away. But they lingered.

  Did the Chancellor know? Palpatine always seemed one step ahead in everything, as usual for the Chancellor. Anakin could try to explain away his marriage as a lie, but Blitzkrieg? The droid was an enigma.

  Mace's voice snapped him back.

  "You ordered the attack," Windu said bluntly. "That fact won't be forgotten."

  The weight of those words crushed him. Mace was right, but it still stung. Every decision, every risk, led here.

  "They'll use this to pull more systems away from the Republic," Shaak Ti warned. "Mandalore was one of the last strong neutral voices. Now? They've withdrawn their ambassador and entered formal seclusion."

  "The Duchess is injured. Her voice is silent in the debates," Obi-Wan added quietly. "Bo-Katan's rule somewhat aligns with Mandalore's older ways, not Satine's idealism."

  "And then there's the Darksaber," Windu muttered, eyes narrowing. "Whoever wields it carries not just power, but legitimacy. Now that it's in Bo-Katan's hands, things grow more complicated."

  "More worrying, the Darksaber is," Yoda murmured. "Whispered of in ancient texts, it was. Buried in the Archives, it was. Forgotten about Tarre Vizsla, I have."

  Even Windu fell silent at the small grandmaster's admission.

  Before anything else could be said, the holocomm at the chamber's center blinked to life.

  "Transmission from the Chancellor's office," The attendant announced.

  Grim expressions flashed across the Council.

  The hologram of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine appeared, draped in his usual crimson robes, but his expression was unusually tight.

  "Master Jedi," he began without preamble, "the Republic is bleeding trust. Distant systems are beginning to withdraw their cooperation. Neutral blocs are forming alliances beyond our control. And your Order is under scrutiny for this… disaster."

  He let the words hang in the air.

  "I require a formal statement of accountability regarding the Mandalore Incident."

  A ripple of murmurs spread through the chamber.

  "That implies fault, Chancellor," Mace said flatly.

  "It was a fault," Palpatine replied smoothly, though ice glittered beneath his words. "One we must acknowledge, however delicately, before the Separatists control the narrative. I have no desire to further alienate the Senate, Master Windu… but their restlessness grows."

  Obi-Wan glanced at Yoda, then Mace. Silence held them.

  "And Blitzkrieg?" Shaak Ti finally asked. "Where is the droid now?"

  Palpatine's face darkened just slightly, subtle enough to escape notice.

  "I am afraid I do not know, Master Jedi. Its fleet vanished shortly after leaving the Mandalore sector and bouncing around the Outer Rim, going between Telos IV, Saleucami, and finally Pantora. Our scouts lost track of the fleet after it left Pantora. If you want to fix this, find that droid. Before Dooku does."

  The hologram flickered out.

  The chamber was engulfed in silence after Palpatine's hologram faded, but the weight of his words pressed down like a physical force.

  Mace Windu's voice cut through the stillness, sharp as a vibroblade. "The Council cannot ignore the damage caused by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. Their actions on Mandalore have fractured trust, both within the Senate and among our allies." He said.

  Ki-Adi-Mundi's brow furrowed deeply. "Kenobi led an unsanctioned mission. He defied Council protocol, acted on personal conviction rather than collective judgment." He added.

  Obi-Wan's jaw clenched minutely. "With respect, Masters, I acted to protect the Republic and the innocent lives caught in the crossfire. Waiting for authorization would have meant their deaths." He retorted.

  Shaak Ti's gaze was icy. "That is not for any Jedi to decide unilaterally. Your recklessness risks undermining the Order's standing and mission." She said.

  Anakin's fists clenched at his sides but he kept his voice calm. "We live in extraordinary times. The Separatists are ruthless. Waiting for perfect conditions will cost more lives than we can afford." He argued.

  Plo Koon leaned forward, his tone measured but firm. "Yet the Jedi must be exemplars of discipline and restraint. By stepping outside our bounds, you erode the Order's integrity, young Skywalker." He said.

  Anakin's eyes flashed with frustration. "Discipline without action is meaningless. We took the risk to save lives. That should be acknowledged."

  Mace's glare bore into him. "This isn't about risk, Skywalker. It's about respect for the chain of command and for the Republic's institutions." The Vaapad master stated.

  Obi-Wan stepped forward. "Masters, the man you accuse has fought beside me through every battle. Anakin's heart is loyal to the Order, even if he has made mistakes." He argued.

  "Perhaps," Shaak Ti said coldly -for a Jedi- "but loyalty does not excuse insubordination. The Senate's faith in us is fragile. We cannot afford further scandal."

  Mace's eyes narrowed, weighing every word. "Your actions were taken with good intent, but the consequences that came from it are dire." The Vapaad master said. "We must discuss Master Kenobi's future on the council, as well as whether or not Knight Skywalker's padawan remains his padawan."

  Anakin's heart stopped for nearly a whole second at Windu's words.

  Obi-Wan's voice was steady but edged with barely hidden desperation. "I ask for leniency. I am willing to accept reprimand, but removal from the Council would be a grave error. My presence here is vital for the Order's unity."

  Mace's tone hardened. "Kenobi, your place here is not guaranteed. The Council's trust is shaken."

  Anakin stepped forward, voice steady but fervent. "And I ask the Council not to sever my bond with Ahsoka." He pleaded. "She is my Padawan and the best student I could ask for. To strip that away now would undo everything we've worked for."

  "Skywalker," Ki-Adi-Mundi said, "The Council questions your ability to lead. Your Padawan's fate must be considered in light of your poor judgment."

  Anakin's eyes locked with the Masters'. "I am not without fault, but I will not abandon her. She deserves to learn from both my strengths and my mistakes."

  The room hummed with tension. Neither side being willing to give an inch.

  Yoda finally spoke, his voice soft but resolute. "A choice this is, between discipline and mercy. Obi-Wan's actions, reckless they were, yet wisdom they hold for the fate of the Neutral Systems. Skywalker's heart, passionate it is, but judgment is flawed."

  After a minute of deliberation, the council finally came to a decision.

  Mace exhaled sharply. "Kenobi will remain on the Council, but under probation. Any further breaches will be met with expulsion from the Council, and your demotion to Knight." He finally said.

  Ki-Adi-Mundi nodded. "Skywalker will face suspension from active command for three standard cycles. His Padawan remains with him, but the Council will closely monitor her training."

  Obi-Wan's expression flickered with relief, though a shadow lingered.

  Anakin bowed his head slowly, the weight of the verdict settling over him like a shroud.

  Shaak Ti's voice cut through the tension. "Let this serve as a reminder to the both of you: even the greatest of the Jedi must answer to the Order's code."

  Yoda's gaze softened slightly. "Learn from this, we must all. The trials of war, far from over, they are. Shrouded in darkness, the Force has long become. Meditate on this, I must. Adjourned, the council is."

  The chamber settled into an uneasy quiet for a moment, everyone caught up in their thoughts. Not Anakin, though. The young Jedi Knight quickly but silently left the chamber, his heart thudding almost painfully quick in his chest.

  He had almost lost his Padawan, and that fact hurt more than anything.

  —

  The Resolute

  Anakin blinked, pushing the thoughts of Mandalore aside.

  He and Obi-Wan stepped up to the console, the flickering blue light of the holoprojector casting long shadows across their faces.

  The transmission was timestamped just a single day prior, its signal routed through a dead CIS relay in the Outer Rim. Audio only. No visuals of any kind. That alone was telling of how secretive this was. Whatever they were discussing, it was something they didn't want anyone to see.

  The clone technician pressed a key, and static crackled before three familiar voices emerged, all of which were in the middle of a seemingly humorous conversation.

  "Ah! No more!" One of them, Grievous, said in-between wheezing laughs, interspersed by a few coughs.

  "Wait! Wait! It gets better! When the patient woke up, his skeleton was missing, and the doctor was never heard from again!" Blitzkrieg joked.

  Deep, raspy laughter came from two other lines, easily distinguishable as coming from both Grievous and also Ventress.

  "How does that even happen?" Ventress choked out between raspy giggles.

  "Oh, spare me your horrible humor, Blitzkrieg." Grievous groaned as he finally stopped laughing with a final wheezing cough.

  Anakin stared at the call with his mouth dropped open in shock and his eyes so wide they almost popped out of their sockets. He looked over at Obi-wan, and found that his former master was staring at the captured audio in shock as well.

  "What the kriff?" Rex muttered flatly from Anakin's other side.

  The call lapsed into silence for a moment, then Ventress spoke.

  "What were we talking about?" She asked.

  "Our new mission that our lovely leader has handpicked all three of us for." Blitzkrieg replied, annoyance in his metallic tone. "We got a bit distracted halfway through. It happens."

  Grievous let out a growl. "Dooku's patience runs thin on this particular mission." The cyborg said. "Blitzkrieg. You've been dancing around this campaign since the new year, saying you were still testing things in the Outer Rim. Are we moving on Kamino now, or not?"

  There was a pause. Soft whirring buzzed through the speakers. Blitzkrieg was thinking.

  "We will be, but I will be in charge of the planning. A simple raid will only galvanize the clones. We need to break their production capability, not provoke it." The droid general explained.

  Grievous grunted. "We've already broken them on Felucia and Saleucami. Cato Neimoidia is within our grasp aga-"

  "None of those were their home." Blitzkrieg calmly interrupted. "Kamino isn't just a facility. It's a symbol. You don't take symbols with brute force. You take them by making people lose faith in them."

  That last sentence made Anakin zero in on the voicewaves that came from the droid general.

  "Then what do you propose?" Grievous asked.

  "A surgical strike. One that kills their confidence in the system. I want us to hit Tipoca City and leave it standing, somewhat physically intact, but psychologically gutted. We lead the attack ourselves. Let the Republic panic. Let the Senate see that the heart of the Clone Army can be reached, can be compromised, can be hurt."

  Grievous scoffed. "You prefer pretty words over war."

  "No," Blitzkrieg replied. "I just prefer victory over attrition. You'll get your war, Grievous. I'll give you your frontlines. But first, I'll show them that Kamino isn't untouchable."

  Another pause. Grievous finally heaved out a massive sigh.

  "Fine. But if you delay this again-"

  "Then I'll take command of the assault myself," Blitzkrieg cut in. "And when Tipoca falls, I'll make sure we all get the credit for achieving the goals that have been set."

  "Ugh. Get a room, you two. I can feel the tension from here." Ventress joked.

  "I must admit, I did not calculate your sense of humor to be so suicidal, Ventress." Blitzkrieg replied, mischievousness in his metallic tone.

  "Was that a…joke?" One of the clone officers asked incredulously.

  "Not a death wish, my dear toy soldier, just an observation. But you both must know that the planet of Kamino is a dangerous target because of the clone facilities on it."

  "Just make sure you hold up your half of this mission, Ventress." Grievous growled. "We must stop the production of new clones if we are to win this war."

  A small chuckle came from Ventress' line. "Don't underestimate me, Grievous. I will."

  "I believe we should continue this conversation on a more secure line." Blitzkrieg suddenly said. "I don't exactly like the odds of this being overheard. I will see you three at the meeting point."

  Grievous huffed. "Very well." He said, then exited the call.

  "Ventress. I believe I have something of potential importance to the Jedi. I think it would interest a dark one such as yourself." Blitzkrieg said. "Should we both survive this mission, come to Telos IV when it is convenient for you."

  "Hmm. I might take you up on that offer, Blitzkrieg." Ventress replied.

  The transmission clicked off. Silence settled on the command deck like a ton of durasteel. Every clone on the bridge exchanged almost fearful glances at each other.

  "Kamino," Obi-Wan cursed, barely above a whisper.

  Anakin's fists clenched behind his back.

  "Have we warned them?" he asked the tech.

  "We only just cracked the last layer of encryption," the clone said. "We're preparing a burst transmission now, sir."

  Anakin didn't respond immediately. His mind was racing. Blitzkrieg wasn't just a threat, he was a strategist. He wasn't planning an attack in the traditional sense. He wanted doubt, fear, and division.

  And if he succeeded, Kamino wouldn't just be damaged.

  It would be broken.

  "We're leaving within the hour," Anakin said, his voice low and resolute. "Obi-Wan, we need to beat them there."

  Obi-Wan nodded grimly. "Before Blitzkrieg convinces the galaxy that we can't protect our own soldiers' home."

  —

  2/18/7957 C.R.C

  Providence-class Dreadnought, Phoenix

  Bridge

  Dark Space

  Working with Grievous is a rather exhausting experience.

  It's like trying to steer an angry rancor through an open market. Loud, directionless, and expensive to everyone, including the government.

  He measures progress by wreckage, victory by volume. Every operation is a tantrum of metal and flame. Every setback is someone else's fault. He's the perfect face for the Separatists; monstrous, theatrical, conveniently expendable.

  And completely exhausting to work with.

  If I have to share another strategy session with him after this next one, I swear to Primus himself, I will weld his limbs together, and toss him to the TVEC to experiment with. And they will, because they dislike him about as much as I do, even if he was my favorite character from the Star Wars IP. The fact that my sense of humor works on him doesn't help.

  Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for me, he's useful as he is right now. Brutality has its place. Sometimes you need a blunt object to draw your opponent's attention, while the knife aimed at their back slides in unnoticed. That's what this operation is. I let Grievous roar and rage and make a big distraction, forcing the Jedi to rush to intercept him. And while they're distracted with him, the real work gets done by Ventress, and more importantly, by me.

  I turned when I heard the bridge doors open, and Omen rolled in.

  "General, everything is ready for the invasion." He reported as he came to a stop and retracted the wheels, leaving him on his feet.

  Turns out, miniaturizing transformation tech is rather expensive. My new body already reached the same price tag as a regular AAT in price. Modifying an already modified OOM-series frame into transforming was just out of the question entirely. So, Omen settled for an upgrade. Wheel feet. Sort of like Sideswipe from the Transformers movies.

  Speaking of my new body… By Primus do I love everything that the crazy bastards at the TVEC had done.

  Even if it was absolutely terrifying to be deprived of every single sense for what felt like minutes, but was only thirty seconds.

  —

  I stared up at the new body standing in the charging pod.

  Eight-foot-five in height. Heavily armored and armed. The wings of the Starlight hanging off its back, held up by cables. The optics of the body were dark, and no life would be behind them if they were on. It was simply a mindless automaton at this point, but now it would be inhabited with the placement of my PM inside its processor.

  Its facemask was open, exposing its mouth, which consisted of the same parts that went into an early version of a Human Replica Droid, but somehow came out looking like it came straight out of the Bayverse.

  At least it didn't look insectoid.

  "Are you ready?" A soft voice asked.

  I turned to look at Lona, nervousness filling my mind.

  "...Yes." I replied after a moment.

  The blue-skinned togruta tilted her head at me, then walked over and wrapped her arms around me. I returned the hug after a moment.

  "You know I can sense you. I can feel the fear in your mind, Blitz." She murmured.

  I moved back, and I finally noticed that my fingers were trembling.

  I wasn't even human anymore, and yet the mannerisms of my former humanity continue to follow me.

  I limped over to the medical table that was set out for me, my endoskeleton buckled from my fight with Anakin's force crush. My endoskeleton, my torso at least, was not easily replaceable. Everything between my power core nestled in my chest and my processor in my head was so interconnected that to replace it would involve me completely shutting down. Something I am… afraid to do.

  But not any more.

  "Begin the procedure." I ordered, before lying down on the table.

  Slowly, the pieces that made up my head were taken off, exposing my processor. There was no pain, they were just parts, after all.

  "You know the sensory cutoff will be… intense." Lona finally said as she grasped something in my head. "The strain might-"

  "Just do it already." I ordered.

  Lona hesitated for a moment, but then she pulled and everyt%@#$%#%$^E…

  No light.

  No sound.

  No thought.

  I don't feel anything.

  No motion.

  No time.

  No self.

  …I've died.

  Or perhaps maybe I've been erased.

  That would be a rather anticlimactic end, wouldn't it?

  No blaze of glory, or slowly rusting away after finally achieving everything I wanted. But instead I've accidentally killed myself by trying to change to a different body.

  I suppose that would be funny. In a cosmic sort of way. Dying like that.

  Not on my watch.

  Who the-

  Light, and a mass of sensation, return with the sound of a power core clunking into activation. My optics online and I fall to a kneel, the cables attached to my wings snapping off. A gasp escapes me as my cooling fans stutter and whine. I can feel the floor beneath me, tactile sensors in my hands delivering data right into a processor that feels…

  Free.

  A hand gently laid itself on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Lona in front of me.

  "Is that you, Blitz?" she asked, voice shaky.

  It takes me a moment to online my vocalizer, but when I do, it isn't the voice of the UTD that comes out.

  It is my own voice, one I have missed for months now. A medium baritone that reminds me of home.

  "...It's me, Lona. This is me."

  With a crying cheer, she wrapped her arms around me, and I wrapped my other arm around her in return.

  …Fuck that was terrifying.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  —

  Anyway,

  I was already big as a UTD, but in this new Nevermore frame -my own choice of designation- I was a whopping eight feet and five inches tall. A 50mm laser cannon, 25mm smaller than the one an AAT has, was integrated into my right arm, which could spring out and fire at a moment's notice. My left arm held my lightsaber, which has since been increased in size with Lona's help. With my wings fully erected, I stood thirteen feet tall, which was pretty good for intimidation, because I moved quite a bit faster than a normal droid of my size would.

  The Starlight Mk-3, which was deemed the perfect size as it already was, has been semi-permanently attached to my back now, but was given an upgrade to where it could fold away until they looked like solid versions of the 'wings' on Dotm Sentinel Prime's back. At about the same proportions as well, if a little longer.

  A backup version is already in the works, with the Mk-4 being planned to be prototyped sometime in the next month and a half. For now, Mk-1 and Mk-2 will remain as the one's for my old body, in case I ever need the smaller form again.

  In regards to armor, I had much thicker plating, to the point that blaster pistols are entirely ineffective on me. The Phrik comprising my plating is thick enough that I can hold a lightsaber blade for a little bit longer as well. In regards to the Beskar… well, I did get the shield I kind of wanted, a large folding one that looked too bulky for anyone but me to reliably hold, which now sits folded up on my back, but I also got the next best thing as well.

  Subdermal Beskar plating.

  Now, my armor isn't entirely covered with Beskar. Forging an entire set of plating for all eight foot five of me would be quite a bit more expensive than I'd like, and what would be feasible for Mandalorian Armorers to do. But I do now have Beskar surrounding my processor, much of my endoskeleton, my power core, plating for my arms to act like gauntlets, and the connection points to my wings, along with parts of my wings themselves. All of the important parts are covered, and Phrik was already a good lightsaber deterrent anyway. But it was expensive enough just getting the subdermal plating forged and installed in me.

  But regardless, even the smallish bit of Beskar in my body now is better than none of it.

  And thanks to the crazy bastards in the TVEC, I also gained Zero-Point Energy Field Manipulators in my hands. They're similar to the Gravity Gun of the same name from the Half-Life series. But mine, being from a much more highly advanced universe, are more akin to the supercharged versions, giving me a sort of pseudo-force telekinesis. To pull something into their grip, I arrange my hand like a claw, making whatever I've grabbed come flying at me until it's suspended in front of my hand, with my palm glowing a bright orange color.

  If I want to launch the object/person/weapon/whatever it is, I simply snap all of my fingers together, sending it flying with enough force to crack plastoid armor and cause severe blunt-force trauma. I don't actually need to use the hand signals to use the Gravity Guns though. I'm really just doing that for theatrics, and for those around me to know when I'm using my bastardized mechanical force powers.

  I've tested it, and I can legitimately pick up a whole Bulk hauler speeder with one gravity gun at about seventy percent power. I am fairly sure that my gravity guns could potentially outclass my laser cannon if I use them creatively enough.

  Speaking of speeders… A division of the TVEC has cropped up and split off from the main organization, focusing on the civilian market instead of the military.

  I might have had a hand in their creation, unintentionally and inadvertently.

  While Lona and I were brainstorming ideas to send back to Telos for them to work with, I had shown the togruta what civilian vehicles from earth looked like, and we might have spent an hour or so spitballing ideas on how to improve them for the new galaxy without replacing the wheels with repulsorlifts and calling them landspeeders. That file might have been accidentally sent to Telos along with quite a few farming equipment ideas for the Outer Rim farms.

  Thus, a new division was born out of the TVEC, which has become something of an umbrella corporation now. The division's name is Telos Civilian Engineering, or TCE. Their first models, a pickup truck based on the 1972 GMC Sierra, a flatbed truck based on the 1979 Chevrolet C-series trucks, and another flatbed based on the ZIS-150 flatbed truck, and two cars, one based on the 1957 Bel Air and the other on the 1960 Impala, were just recently released after the new year began.

  They also come in an entirely repulsorlift version, for those people that just can't move on from regular land speeders. They look a little weird to me, but that's just my Earthling sense of car style butting in. The good news, though, is that not only are they making two variants of every model, but the wheeled versions of all of them are dirt cheap, with the cheapest one being the wheeled trucks, coming in at just 2500 for the pickup and 2400 for the flatbed trucks.

  They've also released a bunch of farming equipment based on old tractor designs I remembered, some wheeled and some with actual tracks. And apparently they stayed mostly true to their designs, but all of them have obviously got a Corusica galaxy spin to them, in both body design and powertrain. The farming equipment is basically just a bunch of different tractors and farm equipment from brands like John Deere and the like.

  There's even talks of using some of the higher end designs I had in the file like Aston Martins, Camaros, Mustangs, Rolls Royces, and a bunch of other muscle and luxury cars in another division called Telos Luxury Engineering. For all of those people that want platinum plated floorboards in their air speeder. Some of the air speeder designs actually kind of look like the vehicles from that one movie The Fifth Element, to be honest.

  The first vehicle models from the TCE have been out for only four months now, and they are actually doing really well in the Outer Rim. Turns out, with so many factories turning to producing weapons, battle droids, clone armor, speeder bikes, and the entirety of two space faring navies, the civilian side has been left almost abandoned, with air and land speeder production falling to the wayside while everyone and their corporate mother gets on the war profiteering bandwagon.

  The TCE could not have been created at a more opportune time, in my humble opinion.

  "Excellent. We'll begin the invasion as soon as the other two get here." I said in reply to Omen.

  Omen nodded, then after a moment his new, movable optics flashed lightly as he swiveled them over to look at me. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why did you send Lona back to Telos once we returned from Batuu?" He asked.

  I glanced over at my admiral, then sighed.

  "From what Lona believes based on what I told her, there's an entire library of holocrons, accessible only to her or another Force user, (which is true) that I've asked her to catalog and study while taking some time away from the war. In reality, I just needed a reason to get her off the ship, because Ventress, Grievous, and I are using the Finest Hour as the flagship for this invasion."

  I continued, "Both of them have their own issues with the Jedi. And while I do think Ventress could probably have an amiable discussion with Lona -given that they've both experienced similar betrayals by the Order-, but I wouldn't trust Grievous to be on the same planet as her, let alone the same ship. My processor was already overheating from stress the last time they were both aboard the Phoenix at the same time."

  "If it helps, sir, I made sure that whenever Grievous wandered, Lona received an alert about his position in myself changing." Phoenix cut in over both of our comms. "I had just gained that ability a few days before due to a maintenance tech missing a pipe that was corroding."

  I sighed. "Thank you, Phoenix. No problems with maintenance now?"

  "No, sir. They all perform admirably at their work, and their new tools work wonderfully."

  "Good to know."

  Before the conversation could continue, two fleets appeared, and IFF signals marked the Invisible Hand, along with another Providence called the Iron Fist, which was under Ventress' command.

  Interesting.

  I thought the Invisible Hand wouldn't become Grievous' flagship until like late 20BBY. Maybe I took enough pressure off of the cyborg Kaleesh for him to Strategically Transfer that Equipment to an Alternate Location from Gunray's slimy claws.

  "Ah, my two partners in this mission are here." I mused.

  I opened up an audio-only group call with the two Providences.

  "Lady Ventress, General Grievous." I greeted.

  "General Blitzkrieg." Asajj greeted in return.

  "Blitzkrieg." Grievous greeted.

  "If you two will make your way over to the Phoenix, we can begin the merge and the hyperjump to Kamino." I said.

  "Bah! Why do I have to leave my own ship." Grievous grumbled.

  "Because my ship is the lead for this mission?" I replied sarcastically.'

  Grievous grumbled a bit more, then exited the call, and Ventress ended the call on her end with a small chuckle.

  I shook my head and turned towards the slowly growing forms of two Stealthipedes approaching the ship. I nodded to Omen, then turned to walk to the bridge.

  It was only natural for me to meet them in the main hangar, after all.

  –

  As I expected, both of them were completely flabbergasted by my new frame.

  The only people outside the Star Wreckers who had seen it could be counted on one hand. Bane was already dead, so he didn't count.

  Ventress blinked, eyes sweeping over me like she wasn't sure whether to be impressed or alarmed. "How did… this happen?" she asked, gesturing vaguely at all of me with a flick of her hand.

  "I requested a new body from the TVEC. They complied," I replied. "Took them about six or seven months to put it together."

  Grievous just stared. If he had a jaw, it would've hit the floor. His eyes narrowed slightly, the fleshy orbs twitching with visible envy. He looked like he was one bad conversation away from marching to Serenno and demanding a full-body upgrade from Dooku to match my new style. Either that, or chartering a ship to Telos and cutting a deal himself.

  I swear I could hear his teeth grinding, and he doesn't even have teeth.

  "Before you say anything, Grievous, this took around seven months to put together from the first design to prototype. I don't exactly have anything like this lying around besides the older versions of the Starlight." I said, then tilted my head and scanned him. "Although, with a few modifications to your current frame, you could have the Mk-2 attached to your body."

  "You mean I could fly like you did on Saleucami?"

  "Indeed."

  Grievous went silent, and I could tell he was having visions of killing Jedi like a literal angel of death. I could almost feel the excitement rolling off of him, which was weird, because I was not force sensitive.

  "Considering neither of us have seen this new body of yours, I gather that no one else has?" Ventress asked.

  "I can count the number of people outside the 104th who have seen my new body on one hand, one of which being our glorious leader himself."

  "Master Dooku knew about this?" Ventress queried.

  "Indeed he did. I believe his exact words were-" I pulled up the recording I took of his reaction and played back a part of it. "Well, General Blitzkrieg. It seems that you really have become the scalpel to General Grievous' sledgehammer." I looked over at Ventress. "Apparently if I succeed at whatever my next solo mission is, he will see about adding a Subjugator to my fleet."

  "He's giving you a ship like the Malevolence?" Grievous asked.

  "Not exactly. The Malevolence was one of a kind with its twin mega-ion cannons. The other Subjugators lack them, but they are still an impressive piece of engineering. I can't wait to have the TVEC descend upon it to modify it to my own standards."

  "Your… own standards?" Ventress tentatively asked. "You think you could modify that monster of a ship into something even more deadly?"

  I shrugged. "Maybe." I gestured to the C-99 standing in the hangar. "Now, are we ready to begin the invasion?"

  I received nods from both of them, and together we walked into the landing craft.

  The crew of the C-99 nodded at me as I passed, some of their gazes lingering on my two companions.

  "Your droids are quiet." Grievous observed as we walked towards the bridge.

  "Personal reprogramming done by me. Every single one of them has been updated to my own standards. I could do the same for yours, if you wish?" I replied.

  "Yes." Grievous let out a small growl. "Dooku expects us to win this war, but all he gives us is badly programmed junk that can just barely fire a blaster and march in a line."

  "Hence my reprogramming. Dooku won't let me reprogram the entire army, but he did say that the choice for your fleet was up to you."

  "Of course I want my droids smarter." The cyborg growled.

  "Noted. I'll send over the first few updates as soon as possible, just plug it into the fleet battlenet and wait for a full charge cycle for all the droids to finish. You should see noticeable results in your next battle afterwards."

  "What is that?" Ventress suddenly asked, pointing at something in the loading racks.

  My optics swiveled over to see what it was, and they landed on the singular TT-ST command vehicle I planned on using as close fire support.

  "Ah. That is a Telosian Transformation-Siege Tank, or just TT-ST. It is a tank that the good folks in the TVEC have been working on for quite a while actually. It is essentially my answer to the AT-TE in its role as a main battle tank. And from the war games it has been a part of, it performs admirably in its role." I explained as we started our walk to the bridge again.

  The last few hallways passed us by, until we finally entered the bridge, where two B1 pilot droids looked back at us upon entry.

  "Set our course, boys, we have a city to take." I ordered

  "Yes, sir." the B1 pilot replied.

  "Your TT-ST. It's smaller than the Republic walker, though. Isn't it weaker?" Grievous asked with a tilt of his head as the C-99 rumbled beneath us as it finally took off.

  "Not necessarily. The AT-TE is a little bit… overengineered in my opinion. It's designed to act as a main battle tank, a command center, an artillery vehicle, a storage vehicle for two AT-RTs, a troop transport capable of holding twenty clone troopers, and a mobile triage facility, all in one, minus the storage for the light walkers. That's a modification, but minus that, the AT-TE still covers way too many roles to be fully viable in any one of them."

  "The TT-ST is designed to be the main battle tank of the Star Wreckers, and that is its primary purpose." I continued. "One large cannon mounted in a turret on top, with a coaxial repeater and a cupola-mounted one, along with another one in the hull for the assistant driver. It's designed for anti-tank work, direct fire support, and maneuverability in combat. Much simpler, and the AIAV is designed as a troop transport to cover for that. That one is almost ready for mass-production, actually."

  "Didn't you capture a bunch of AT-TEs on Telos when you took the planet?" Ventress asked, glancing out the transparisteel window which slowly went from a starry night to the cloudy constant rain of Kamino.

  "I did." I replied, watching as the flak began flying up from the city towards the fleet. "Twenty-five of them, to be exact. I sent five to be looked at to find weak spots that could be exploited, and the remaining twenty were modified. Their role as a mobile triage facility intrigued me, so their main cannons were removed, and a lot of the military tech inside of them was taken out and given to the TVEC, and large red medical crosses were painted on their sides. And now, five of them roam the Telosian countryside acting as mobile clinics for those that can't reach a brick and mortar hospital."

  "The other fifteen were split into three five walker squads. They are being held in reserve for now, until they're needed somewhere after a long battle where civilians were caught in the crossfire." I finished.

  "That's… surprisingly nice of you." Ventress commented.

  "I may be a literal cold and calculating tactical droid, but I am not a monster."

  I looked out the transparisteel windows, and jerked back when a turbolaser blast pierced right through the center of a C-99, almost cutting it in half. The disabled ship began to plummet to the ground, and I closed my optics for a moment and felt a dozen or so connections to the battlenet suddenly fall silent.

  "Bah! You should have kept them as tanks." Grievous grumbled.

  "Well, the Mass Driver Cannons that they had are modified now. Some of them are included in plans for an AIAV-based tank destroyer." I said, shaking of the hollow feeling of the dead droids in the battlenet.

  "What is this 'AIAV' you're talking about?"

  "A full rework of the AAT into a troop transport/ infantry fighting vehicle. It'll still be around the same power level, but it'll have a much more modifiable frame, so other variants of it will start springing up eventually."

  "Sir." The pilot B1 cut in. "The flak from Tipoca City is heavier than expected, and Republic fighters are coming up on us. They might have pinged our ship as the leader."

  "Frag." I muttered. "If any of you have an idea on how to get down there without being shot down, now's your ti-"

  Before I could even finish my sentence, a turbolaser blast sliced through our C-99's shielding and through its left side. The entire ship rumbled as the sounds of a dull explosion echoed through the bridge doors, almost knocking me off of my feet.

  "We've been hit!" The pilot B1 cried out.

  "Keep us in the air, reroute power to the lower shields! Do not let that turbolaser cut through us again!" I ordered.

  "We're trying sir!"

  Another turbolaser shot pierced through the left side again, somehow impacting in the same spot and piercing through the entire wing, leaving a massive hole in it. Grievous, Ventress, and I all shared a glance as fire spewed from the wing.

  "We've lost repulsor power in the left wing!" The pilot B1 exclaimed.

  "We've got a hole in the damn thing!" The co-pilot B1 added

  "All three of us being on the same ship wasn't the best of ideas." Ventress snarked. "I thought Tactical Droids were supposed to know the odds!"

  I ignored her. "Fire the emergency booster engines on the left wing! Keep us in the air for as long as possible, then evacuate!"

  "Sir!?" The B1 pilot exclaimed.

  "Abandon ship!"

  "Yes, sir!"

  The emergency booster engines fired, and the ship stabilized somewhat, but with a massive hole in its wing which was spewing fire like a flamethrower. Another turbolaser bolt glazed the bridge, and the shielding flared brightly, before it finally went down.

  "Damn it. We need to find an escape pod, come on!" I called out.

  We ran out of the bridge, leaving the pilots to keep the ship under control for as long as possible. The three of us ran through the hallways of the C-99, dodging falling panels and slicing through a few frozen doorways.

  "This was a bad idea!" Ventress ranted as we ran. "Why did you think that all three of us being on the same ship was a good idea!"

  "Rant at me later Asajj! When we're not in danger of dying!" I replied, dodging a busted pipe.

  "If we die, I will haunt you for the rest of time, Blitzkrieg!" Grievous snarled as he crawled in a large spiral on all six limbs.

  "I accept those terms!"

  The three of us reached the hall, but before we could get to the escape pods, a turbolaser blast sliced through the hallway, turning the entire chamber into red-hot slag, with a massive hole in the floor.

  We were trapped.

  "This ship is going down." Grievous growled. "We need another way off of it."

  I looked around quickly, trying to think of something. Then a memory sprung up in my processor, and I stood straight up, almost hitting my head on a fallen pipe.

  "Quick, into that tank!" I shouted, pointing over at the singular TT-ST among the AATs in the landing craft.

  "Why did I decide to come with you two!?" Ventress exclaimed as we clambered into the waiting TT-ST. "Lovely. Death by tank-shaped meteor. Very stylish!"

  I shut the commander's hatch. "Quiet, Asajj, I need to focus!"

  "Wait for me!" A B1 shouted as he ran towards us.

  "Come on, soldier! Get in here!"

  The B1 flailed onto the tank and into the gunner's position. The hatches closed and I quickly activated the tank, and not a second too late. The motor pool blew apart in a fiery explosion, sucking our tank out. The TT-ST entered freefall, and all of us began floating as the tank plummeted to the ground.

  But not for long.

  "I was planning on giving these things their first combat in a week or two, but I suppose we're doing this now!" I yelled out, pressing a button away from the other controls.

  After a split second, gravity suddenly regained its grip on us as massive parachutes fold out and catch the wind. The TT-ST stabilized, and all of us picked ourselves back up off the floor with groans of pain.

  "Ow." Ventress groaned.

  "You're insane!" Grievous yelled as he untangled himself and forced his arms to reconnect back into two instead of four.

  I looked over at him. "If I was insane, I'd be a lot more predictable, Grievous."

  Blaster bolts suddenly impacted the outside of the tank, the dull impact of them thudding through the thick durasteel.

  "Please tell me we aren't being shot at." Ventress nearly begged.

  I glanced out of a manual viewport, and caught a glimpse of a Torrent.

  "We are." I replied flatly.

  An exhausted groan was the only response from the Dathomirian.

  "You can breathe under twenty-five thousand feet, can't you?" I asked.

  "I have two hearts. Of course I can." The Sith Acolyte replied.

  "Good, because it's getting a bit stuffy in here."

  And as she looked up at me, I popped open the commander's hatch, then looked up to see a few blaster bolts pierce holes in the three parachutes above us.

  "HAVE AT ME YOU MEAT DROIDS!" I roared, grabbing and swivelling the roof-mounted repeater around and opening fire with it.

  One of the rounds impacted a Torrent's engines, causing it to start smoking as it passed. I cheered as it flew away, then ducked slightly when another Torrent flew out of the clouds and attacked. I fired relentlessly, the high altitude and the cold air allowing me to fire almost indefinitely with the repeater.I glanced up at the sound of an explosion, and watched as the C-99's wing cracked off, and the ship began to plummet towards the ocean.

  'Just as planned.' I thought.

  "Are those fighters still shooting at us!?" Ventress exclaimed.

  "Yep!" I called back, swivelling the gun around until I spotted a Y-wing coming towards us. "Oh slag!"

  I opened fire, aiming as best I could with the repeater. I activated my arm cannon and started firing at the bomber with it as well, sending a massive amount of bolts towards it. The Y-wing pilot must have changed his mind, because he started to veer off. But that gave me a bigger target to hit. A lucky shot from my arm cannon impacted the Y-wing in its side, and one of its engines blew off, followed by the rest of its cylindrical engine housing.

  And then the entire ship glided over the tank, snapping the front parachute line, taking us down to two.

  "OH JESUS CHRIST!" I shouted in english as the tank fell forward until its front was facing the ground.

  We started gaining a lot of speed, and I dropped back into the tank itself, with a shout.

  "We're in trouble!" I said.

  "Ya think!?" Ventress yelled.

  "B1, get on the main gun!" I ordered. "Tipoca City is half a mile from our position!"

  "What am I trying to hit!?" The B1 asked loudly

  "Trust me!" I replied. "Rotate the turret eighty-two degrees!"

  The turret rotated around me, the mechanical sound a blessing to my ears. When it finally stopped, I checked our position again, then nodded.

  "Fire!"

  The main cannon fired, and the entire vehicle rocked to the side from the power of the blast.

  "Fire!"

  Another blast from the cannon, and the tank rocked to the side again, closer to the city.

  "Rotate fourteen degrees and fire again!" I shouted.

  The B1 obeyed without hesitation. The cannon boomed a third time, and the whole tank twisted in the air like a brick with ambition. The recoil jerked us to the side, sending us ever closer to Tipoca City

  "We are not going to make that landing pad!" Ventress screamed.

  Grievous suddenly stiffened.

  "You crazed scrap pile! We aren't aiming for the landing pad!" He roared.

  My battlemask retracted, and I grinned at them with my metallic face. "Exactly! We're aiming for the ocean!"

  She went dead silent for a beat.

  "…Excuse me?" Ventress asked, deathly quiet.

  I didn't answer. I was too busy bracing myself.

  "Rotate the turret to the front, and wait!" I ordered.

  The turret rotated around the B1 tanker and I again, until the display showed that the cannon was facing the ocean.

  "Close the hatches!"

  The hatch above me sealed shut, along with the rest of them, vacuum sealed on the off chance that the tank ended up in space or underwater with an organic crew.

  "Uh, sir?! I'm aiming at nothing!" The B1 asked, worried.

  "Trust me! Now wait!" I replied as I adjusted the internal stabilizers.

  "I haven't killed enough Jedi to die!" Grievous bellowed from the driver's seat.

  "Blitzkrieg!" Ventress shouted, clinging to a handhold.

  "FIRE EVERYTHING! FULL POWER!"

  "Come on, girl!" The B1 tanker shouted.

  The tank shuddered as full power shots echoed from the main cannon. We were pushed down as the force from the cannon blast slowed the tank down in mid-air. The cannon fired again and again, as fast as it could feasibly fire full powered shots. Full-powered plasma rounds exploded downward, not at enemies, but into the ocean below. The recoil from each blast kicked the tank upward in midair, fighting gravity with sheer, violent desperation.

  Each shot ripped through the sky like a thunderclap, sending up massive geysers of superheated dihydrogen from the churning sea below. Water sprayed upward in furious, glowing arcs.

  But we were still dropping too fast.

  One of the remaining parachutes tore partially along its seam, fluttering violently. The last one was twisting from the air currents, pulling us into a slow spin.

  The dark waves of Kamino's ocean loomed below, endless, angry, and rising fast.

  "Brace for impact!" I called. "Put your head between your knees and pray to whatever Force-ghost is listening to us and is kind enough!"

  I grabbed the repulsorlift override levers, and held onto them with a deathgrip, literally denting the durasteel under my grip. I pulled on them as soon as we neared the water.

  The tank hit the ocean like a durasteel coffin.

  The front armor slammed into the surface, and the water folded around us with a deafening crash. Thanks to the repulsor override, we skipped, skipped like a damn stone, across the waves, throwing up geysers of water taller than gunships.

  The second bounce sent the tank spinning sideways. I slammed into the side wall. Something sparked. Someone screamed. Might have been the B1. On the third bounce, the last parachute ripped off entirely, and we were airborne again for a mere second.

  And then gravity finished the job.

  With a sound like a Star Destroyer ramming into another ship, the tank smashed onto a Kaminoan landing platform. Metal screamed as the tank slid along it. A side wing flew off like shrapnel and impaled a nearby LAAT, pinning it like a trophy insect. After a few perilous moments, the tank finally skidded to a stop, leaving a trail of destruction behind it.

  I lifted my head up and looked through the viewports, then slumped in the commander's seat.

  "...That," I muttered, "was the dumbest brilliant thing I've ever done."

  "Another happy landing." The B1 cheered faintly, his voice warbling slightly from dizziness.

  I looked down into the fighting compartment. "Alright, sound off, who's not dead."

  Groans greeted me as Ventress held a hand up to her skull, glaring at me. Grievous unhooked his talons from the walls around him and looked back at me.

  "You… are insane." Ventress snarled as she used the force to mend her bruises, her eyes bleeding into sulfur yellow for a moment as she drew upon the dark side before fading back to their normal pale blue color.

  I ignored her and looked up at the hatch. "Come on, let's get out of here and rest for a moment before the clones arrive."

  One good punch tore the commander's hatch out of his housing, sending it flying off somewhere. I climbed out and dropped to the landing pad, then looked around. The landing pad we landed on was one on the outskirts, so thankfully it would take a while for the clones to reach us. It was largely destroyed, likely from our landing. I looked over at the impaled LAAT, and snorted at the fate of that poor machine.

  Two sabers ignited, one green and one blue, and started slicing through the hull of the tank. After a few moments, Grievous clawed his way out, and once he got to his clawed feet -which I took inspiration from for my own feet- he threw a glare so heated at me that I could almost feel my plating melt.

  "I agree with Ventress, as much as I hate it." He growled.

  "We made it, didn't we?" I asked.

  "Barely," Ventress remarked as she prowled out of the commander's hatch, the B1 tanker following close behind with an E-5C clutched in his hands. "You dented one of my saber hilts."

  "That's what the Jedi will be worried about, I'm sure."

  Grievous growled low in his chest as he looked around at our position. "We need to move." He said. "The second stage of the plan won't be enacted for nearly thirty minutes."

  I turned toward the sealed blast doors just ahead, already thudding from clone troopers preparing to breach. I rolled my shoulders and pulled out my saber in a short, fluid motion.

  "Alright," I said, "we've made our entrance. Now let's go make it everyone's problem. And keep their attention off of the ocean."

  Ventress ignited her dual sabers with a grin.

  Grievous' arms clacked slightly as they separated into his four arms, all four of which held a saber stolen from a Jedi he killed.

  I smiled as I ignited my own saber and folded out my arm cannon.

  The Invasion of Kamino has just begun.