Published: July 22nd 2023, 3:53:51 pm
If there was one thing I could say about the Mimbanese or at least the Zhamor Tribe, was that when the chips were down, they worked with a ferocity and determination that would put most other species to shame.
In just two days, they had put the plan we worked out into practical reality.
The droid occupied town of Miststar, which had been hewn out of the sprawling rainforest, was about three square kilometers worth of buildings, the tallest of which was the original modular colony hall, that had been dropped off by ship. From there, the town had slowly but quickly grown between it and the nearby mine, which was just four kilometers to the north-east.
The mine itself was an interior shaft-style, which had a current depth of just under eight hundred meters. The only clue you had that it was there at all, was the three hundred square meters of cleared forest, with a twenty meter tall building that had been assembled in a modular fashion - that served to cap the mine shaft, housed the grav elevators that sent workers and droids down it, the conveyors that brought up the raw ore to surface level and finally the exterior cargo ship pad which carried the ore off to the first stage of processing at another facility on the planet.
That it could be so relatively compact was simply Corusca tech in action.
The town housed roughly 3700 people, most of them lived in small well planned mini-suburbs with houses that stood on 600 square meter divisions. The town had all the amenities to generally serve its residents. There were a few streets around the central town square dedicated to shopping, local diners and even a central cantina. Everything had a rounded feel to the architecture overall, mostly in relation to the perpetually overcast, rainy climate. The streets were in generally good condition with permacrete sidewalks and roads, accommodating speeder bike travel as the most common form of transport for residents, with an integrated drainage system that was worthy of a rainy planet.
There was even a perimeter system that neatly discouraged the nasty critters of the forest from trying to make problems for the residents. A combination of infrasound, motion detection, combined with a laser net system that was dialed down to only zap and at worst stun, if the controlling computer detected even the biggest predator.
Thankfully the occupying CIS droids had not been able to turn that system to lethal levels as the designers had not built in that capacity from day one - the emitters just didn’t have the capacity to scale up its power. Nor could it ever be turned to target a humanoid or sentient lifeform, as the computer was hardwired and encoded that way.
I would tip my figurative hat at the foresight demonstrated by whoever had been in charge of town planning and installing the system.
However, the one thing the enemy droids were definitely using the laser defense net for, was to monitor the forest perimeter without having to go on extensive patrols.
The tactical droid in charge kept his forces in close, focused on suppressing the town population, whilst only leaving token squads of B1s on the perimeter as an initial reaction force, whilst relying on the defense net to plug in the gaps for their situational awareness.
That net was far from an impediment to our plan, in fact, we were counting on it.
My own perch was in a tall, mossy tree only ten meters from the town perimeter and looking down at the beginnings of a street that led straight into the town square. I could also make out the shapes of a few modest houses.
Working in the mines wasn’t exactly a nice job, but it was actually well paid, since the job involved mostly technical work and looking after the many automated machines that did the heavy lifting. Companies had to initially attract and keep those workers on the planet, so they invested a lot in their people.
The townsfolk were therefore not lacking in credits, but the exact type of person who would come to Mimban, which was out in the Expansion Region of the galaxy, for a job, was the worst sort if you wanted to militarily occupy them.
Even as I sat in the tree, I could hear the occasional blaster rifle shot going off, which was soon followed by a storm of blaster fire in response from the droids, which halted after a while.
This was the eighth occasion of witnessing resistance from the town, in the just under six hours we had been observing the place directly, in final preparation for our attack.
It would’ve been nice to be able to contact someone among the townsfolk to coordinate a joint offensive, but there were just too many problems and I didn’t want the Mimbanese to get slaughtered in urban style combat among the flat, relatively open streets of the town. Each building had a variety of combat droids on their roofs, acting as snipers on the streets below.
I checked my chrono then looked to my Mimbanese companion who shared my current perch.
His name was Zhoffo, a warrior who had taken to my instruction on guerilla warfare tactics like a duck to water. The male mimban wasn’t the biggest among the warriors, but he had an open mind and was willing to learn. He refreshingly had no compunctions about me being an alien, young or a female. Mimban females had formally engaged in fighting in the past in their culture, but only in defensive battles.
The main reason for his presence though, was to act as a signal relay to the others in the forest. The initial mystery of how they so quickly and silently communicated through the trees was eventually revealed as they demonstrated a handheld laser based point to point system, with relays hidden in the treetops. With this, Zhoffo simply pointed at the correct tree and then sent a message not only in Mimbanese language, but one that was also further encrypted in a code unique to the tribe.
It was time.
I nodded to Zhoffo and he began immediately tapping on his communicator.
My feet carried me off the perch and I silently fell to the forest floor, easily sticking the landing, dissipating the momentum and energy into the Force.
I turned towards the western town perimeter and began to simply walk towards it.
‘Beginning now, master,’ I thought.
‘Good, I’m approaching the north perimeter, let’s give them a nice invitation.’
I stepped out of the treeline and mostly sensed how the motion detection system rippled. The nearest emitters for the laser net were in sight, mounted on a large pole that rose out of the ground in response. The computer didn’t trigger any of the ‘discouragement systems’, but the droids monitoring it were quick to sound the warning of an unknown intruder and sending it down their own com network.
I kept walking and my feet touched the permacrete of the street before the first droids spotted me.
It was a duo of B1s standing on the roof of the nearest house. They were armed with the typical E-5 blaster rifle, but also had thermal detonators in the small storage space on their lower back, below the radio pack.
“Hey you!” said the lead B1 in their typical nasal robotic tone, pointing at me. “What are you doing outside?”
“Resisting!” I shouted in reply and closed my left fist.
Both B1s were lifted into the air and crushed under simultaneous TK hammer blows from below and above. I watched with amused disbelief as literal parts of them began raining down on the roof as I let go of the technique.
‘Did I overdo that one?’ I thought to myself, then dismissed it for later consideration.
The destruction of those two had truly kicked the hornet’s nest and I sensed Anakin had begun his usual approach to rapid unscheduled disassembly of war droids on the other side of town.
I kept walking down the street and the thumping footsteps of four B2s greeted my perceptions.
Other B1s also playing sentry duty on the rooftops began to turn my way.
My lightsabers burst into life beside me and the Darksaber burst into existence with its ultra-white and black edged blade in my right hand.
The B1s opened fire immediately.
I began deflections and managed to send two blasts back the way they had come.
The B2 squad lowered and locked their arms into firing positions.
I mentally apologized to the townsfolk and used the Force to rip meter wide sections of permacrete from the road that began to lazily orbit me.
The rapid blasters of the B2s only served to steadily chew away at my improvised shielding.
I rushed forward and using a slab of permacrete as a battering ram, scattered the B2s like bowling pins.
My lightsabers gave four rapid spinning slashes and reduced them to glowing red hot chunks of metal.
I dropped my permacrete shields, allowing me the focus to properly return the blasts of the remaining B1s in range.
One even tried to use a thermal detonator, but a quick Force Push sent it exploding high in the air. I Pulled the droid off the roof, where it was sliced to pieces by my waiting lightsabers.
It was tempting to try to push deeper into the town, but that risked me getting surrounded and cut off.
I therefore stood my ground and waited.
It didn’t take long.
My Farsight spotted an entire droid company of 90 B1s with B2s in support, some of which were B2-HAs, Grapples and a few Rocket B2s. They had organized and molded together into a unit with a speed that showed their dominance of the electronic airwaves - their network was up and the local tac droid was controlling his subordinates in exacting fashion.
Defeating that much firepower was a bit of a tough ask in a straight fight.
Fortunately, a straight fight was the last thing on our minds when we had planned this operation.
It took them nearly seven minutes in a sustained cohesive march to reach my street. The droid company was a mere twenty meters from turning the corner and spotting me.
I limbered myself and bounced on the balls of my feet, bleeding off my nerves and residual fear - passing it through then onto the Force.
The first rank of B1s turned into view and opened fire.
Fresh permacrete shields were already orbiting me and my lightsabers, spinning like electric green fans, aided in defense and some offense.
There was no way I could spare the focus to be precise in my deflections here.
Blaster bolts were sent off into the air, the ground, against buildings, but only rarely did they return and pick off a droid here and there.
It was not nearly enough to stop their advance.
I began steadily retreating at a pace to match.
Naturally, the tac droid in command decided to apply some solutions to the problem at this point.
The B2-HA’s lifted their arms and fired three rockets at me.
I had anticipated this and sent a permacrete shield I had been keeping behind me, shooting forward to intercept.
The short distances involved meant the rockets had no time to maneuver around. Their proximity fuses went off and all three detonated in a thunderous clap, turning the permacrete into a cloud of dusty fragments that was sent everywhere.
Most of the shrapnel just harmlessly bounced off my physical shields and the droids weren’t affected either. It did serve to nicely obscure the immediate area with a cloud of fine dust.
At that moment, the droids lost sight of me. The B1s were effectively blinded, whilst the B2s more advanced thermal senses were also neatly obscured, only their lifesigns detector could possibly continue to at least give them a general direction.
I bent my legs briefly and burst into the sky with a Force Jump, activating my armor’s boot jets to fly straight back to the edge of the forest.
There was little to no wind, but gravity soon pulled the dust away and the droid company continued advancing, following my lifesign.
I was now hanging from a tree branch right on the edge of where the rainforest began.
The droids reacquired me visually, the B2-HAs aimed their arms again.
Four rockets were launched.
“Locked onto their scanning frequency, mistress. ECM engaged,” M8 declared.
The rockets began wobbling, before scattering randomly, following ghost returns and images that sent them off course. Two went straight up and would eventually detonate when their fuel ran out, one exploded into the ground way short of my position, whilst another harmlessly slammed into and exploded on a tree nearly a hundred meters to my left.
“Hey clankers! You gotta do better than that!” I shouted tauntingly, before giving a little wave of my hand and disappearing into the trees completely.
Using Force Jumps, boot jets and a healthy dose of Jedi reflexes, I jumped from branch to branch, preserving my momentum in a truly exhilarating bit of forest parkour.
I could only do about a dozen jumps before I looped around and rejoined Zhoffo.
The Mimbanese rarely showed outward emotion to outsiders, but I could sense he was truly awed by the display I had given.
“They have taken the bait, here and in the north,” he said eventually in quick Mimbanese.
“Of course they have, Jedi are at the top of the list in their threat assessment programming.”
The droid company reached the edge of the treeline and fearlessly plunged into the forest, with the B2 Grapples leading the way.
They flexed their heavy weight, pincers and increased strength to push aside branches and any obstructions, forging a path for their less able B1 brethren.
When the enemy company was completely in the rainforest, I nodded at Zhoffo. “Begin.”
He tapped the message into his laser communicator, before stowing it and bringing his blaster rifle to hand. I put a hand on his shoulder, a wordless gesture of luck, support and strength for the battle to come.
He nodded in acknowledgement before I jumped away from the observation perch and continued through the branches silently until I reached the next perch.
The droids had lost all bearings on me and had either defaulted to a search pattern or the tac droid wanted to at least show in its own logs that it hadn’t so easily abandoned pursuit of the enemy.
Now the Mimbanese strengths came into play, their knowledge of the land and the forest. It was quite easy for them to predict where a ground bound enemy would move.
The result of which was shown in the next moment, as the four leading B2 Grapples that were forging the path, promptly disappeared into a camouflaged pit, the roof of which could easily support a humanoid weight, but utterly collapsed when subjected to the force of hundreds of kilos of armored droid.
Their weight also triggered the next trap, which was a cluster of shaped thermal detonators.
The forest and the earth shuddered as the Grapples were reduced to torn metal scrap in a fiery inferno of the contained explosion, which sent a geyser of earth, fire and debris straight up into the forest canopy, piercing straight through and lanced further into the sky.
In the next moment, leaving the droids virtually no time to react, another trap was triggered.
This one targeted the rear of their column.
Muted thumps were briefly heard as the Mimbanese improvised grenade launchers went off, lobbing homegrown explosive projectiles to land directly at the feet of the four B2-HAs that were taking up the rear.
The detonations and the resultant concussive sound made me very thankful I was nicely protected by my helmet and that I was technically still deaf.
The B2’s legs were reduced to utter mangled wrecks and their upper bodies toppled onto the wet ground. Nearby B1s were flung forward to slam into their fellows further ahead, almost creating a domino effect on the entire company.
Into this utter chaos, fifty Mimbanese warriors emerged from their camouflaged tree perches, picked a target and unleashed a storm of blaster fire down on the enemy.
Droid energy signatures began to rapidly disappear from my technometric senses.
The B1s and the few remaining B2s tried to return fire, but every warrior had prearranged cover in their perches strong enough to withstand a blaster hit and could also bail out of the perch, then swing away.
Blaster fire rained down and was returned, echoing through the forest for all of ten seconds before silence fell.
I gave one last scan of the area before sending my thoughts to Anakin.
‘Trap successful, droid company down, master.’
‘How many?’
‘Master, are we really going to play this game?’ I thought with exasperation.
‘It’s as you said, all work and no play makes grumpy Jedi.’
‘97.’
I sensed his smugness clearly, ‘112.’
‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Skyguy. Tell Iasento his snipers can go to work.’
‘Already done. We’ll soon have a very unhappy and miserable tac droid in that town.’
‘Master, they don’t feel those emotions, even simulated.’
‘I know, I know, I just like to imagine that they do.’
I closed the bond and dropped out of my perch to the forest floor. The Mimbanese were also descending, eager to salvage any weapons, explosives and ammunition.
This was just the first skirmish, the battle for Miststar was far from over.
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The hours that followed saw those of the Zhamor Tribe who had the best marksmanship and the longest range blaster rifles surround Miststar and begin to steadily pick off the sentry droids that were standing so helpfully on the rooftops.
The best rifles they had could generally reach out to just under a kilometer before the plasma bolt cohesion dissipated too much. That range was not enough to cover the entire town, but I was counting on that, combined with prepared sniper perches in the surrounding forest, they began making their presence felt in a big way.
We had trained them on some best practices for snipers; such as always having a spotter with macrobinocs identifying targets and always relocating after every shot taken. That was the unfortunate problem with any blaster style weapon - you were giving away your position with each shot and one thing on my wishlist was a sniper slugthrower that was effective on droid armor.
My next port of call was to join the effort with my own GALAAR-20 sniper rifle and Anakin acting as my spotter. His foresight in bringing along both our war chests aboard the Xanadu before leaving Coruscant was really paying dividends now.
Since I could hit anything hyper accurately up to three kilometers with the weapon, I could reach into the entirety of the town and we were really hoping to catch the tac droid in the open somewhere.
By the time we joined in the ‘fun’, the Xanadu’s passive scanning had already indicated the dead wrecks of four dozen droids on the roofs of the town.
The perches we were using had actually already been made by the Zhamor for observing the town. It was only in the last few days that they had made a lot more and demonstrated how quickly they could create them. It was just a question of identifying what nature had already done and adding that bit more that would comfortably support two people in a prone position, then adding the ropes for a quick escape.
I unlatched the rifle’s bipod and placed it on the stiff woven floor of the perch, before settling in behind it and powering up its scope. Then pushed the rifle stock into my left shoulder and settled my gaze into it.
I flicked a small switch near the rifle grip, “Safety off, master.”
Anakin was actually leaning against the tree trunk behind me, the macrobinocular in his right hand already scanning the town.
“On it, how long do you think this is going to take?”
I began slowly panning my aim right to left, doing my own scan.
“If we were dealing with a mea-” I cut myself off abruptly and sighed. “With an organic enemy, I’d be worried the Zhamor would run out of power packs before it could happen.”
At that moment, nine simultaneous blaster bolts lanced out of the woods surrounding Miststar; only three of those shots actually hit an enemy droid with destructive effect, but every shot counted at this point.
The CIS droids were beginning to organize a somewhat effective retaliation.
The tac droid had organized mobile teams of B1s with a B2-HA in support, stationing them all around the town perimeter, staying at roughly 50 meters from the tree line. They traced the angle of fire from the Mimbanese snipers and just started to pepper that point with blaster fire and rockets.
So far, the snipers had been adhering to the ‘shoot and scoot’ principle very well and had only sustained injuries from tree splinters from the rockets so far. It was inevitable that casualties and fatalities would eventually occur though, despite their best efforts to remain mobile. That was just the nature of war.
My own focus was on the center of town. The area where their sniper fire couldn’t reach.
“Well, that didn’t take long, the tac droid is pulling back the majority of his forces. Soon only the counter-sniper teams will remain in range.”
“And no more sentries on the roofs of the town’s exterior.”
“No more easy shots for the Zhamor, pity.”
Nine sniper shots lanced in once more, from seemingly random points in the forest, flashed through the air and found four targets, one of which was an almost perfect hit on the sensor cluster of a B2 Rocket droid.
The hit also had luck on its side, as demonstrated by the flash and resounding thump of an explosion that echoed throughout the town. It was a rather impressive detonation of its internal fuel supplies for the integrated flight system. It ended up taking the squad of eleven B1s marching in close proximity with it; sending some flying in pieces and thoroughly damaging others into uselessness.
“Twelve droids, one shot,” I said in amazement.
“Shot must’ve partially damaged the internal power system as well, a Rocket droid doesn’t usually blow up so violently.”
The overcast day was rocked by the droid response as blaster and rocket fire raked the forest at various points. If this had been any other planet, the place would’ve already been a blazing inferno by now from the forest fire.
This back and forth continued for just under two hours, whilst Anakin and I waited patiently for the right conditions. It was not without cost, as seven Mimbanese snipers had died so far, but their fellows just picked up the fallen’s rifle and kept fighting.
This was the thing you quickly learned when fighting and dealing with droids in a war.
It was the fundamental realization that you were actually fighting a computer that had been programmed to mimic sentient cognition, but that didn’t change its underlying truth. It was taking in inputs and using them, applying pattern recognition, executing algorithms and decision trees, all towards achieving its given orders and goals.
In this way, just like you would fight any other enemy, you would show them exactly what you wanted them to see. If you knew your enemy well enough, you could predict their reactions quite reliably through simple deductive logic. The chaos effect was the only thing that could throw off such predictions.
Applying this to droids made it even easier, but a tactical droid, with its sophisticated top of the line processing, was the CIS model droid that would be the closest to what I considered an AGI. A stunted, heavily shackled, hyper focused AGI, but one that could still be predicted and manipulated.
“Sithspit,” Anakin growled in annoyance, keeping his eyes in the binocs and scanning the town. “How much longer?”
The battle was now firmly a fight between the snipers and the droid anti-sniper teams - there were no more easy pickings in the town itself. Every droid had now been pulled back into the town center. Thankfully, there was so far no sign of any BX commando droids - I didn’t expect them to be here on Mimban, given their cost and role, but the CIS had surprised me before by how much they were willing to lose in their military ventures. If the tac droid had them, it would’ve ordered them to go hunting for the Mimbanese snipers in the forest long ago.
I smirked as my ranging Farsight finally spotted the tall blocky form of a TX-20 tac droid, being escorted by two B2-ACM troopers of all things.
The ACM was yet another new variant that I had only seen before in classified intel briefings. It seemed like a normal B2 at first, until it raised its right arm to unleash a heavy triple barreled rotating version of the wrist blaster. The projected firepower was nasty as hell, with a fire rate you’d expected of a dedicated, crewed Repeater.
I yawed my rifle in the direction and frustratingly found a building obscuring my direct line of sight.
“Master, tac droid at bearing 230, 1.7 kilometers.”
“I see it now, pity about the angle.”
The tac droid had fittingly enough emerged from the old central colony building and now walked with purpose towards another neighboring building across the street.
My prescience pinged on an opportunity to take a shot in nine seconds, but the probability line if I took it was showing a long drawn out battle, which I had no time to thoroughly explore.
“Ahsoka, there!”
My scope lit up as I automatically designated the tac droid as a target. The crosshairs locking on, the internal computer calculating and displaying where I should aim.
My finger so wanted to twitch and end the thing’s existence right there…
“Not yet,” I gritted my teeth in frustration.
The droid and his escort walked out of view and the scope computer lost lock.
I could feel Anakin’s own frustration now building at me. The moment we had worked so hard for… and I had seemingly let it slip. Yet he also knew I would’ve had a reason for it.
The Force had stayed my hand and I was determined to find out why.
I plunged down the probability line and winced at what I found.
“What have you seen, Snips?”
“If we want to end this battle within the day, we need to wait.”
The next few minutes I spent just angrily staring through the scope at the building the tac droid was now in. In my mind, I was cursing everybody even remotely responsible for the situation. I had to work to let go of the tension that was building in me.
Finally, the doors opened, the tac droid and his escort emerged.
In the B2’s large metal hands, four children; three humans and a rodian, were carried. The droids had them lifted so high their feet were dangling a meter above the road.
I could feel Anakin’s horror and anger acutely.
The tac droid stepped into the open and immediately my rifle reacquired a lock on it.
“Snips, what happens if you take the shot now?” he asked with clearly restrained anger lacing every word.
“The children die. The droid knows there are two Jedi out here, so he’s attacking psychologically, targeting the one ‘weakness’ Jedi have… our compassion for life. Then to compound that, it's targeting the organic urge to protect and cherish the young.”
“Snips, if you took the shot earlier…”
“The tac droid had already given its orders. In that eventuality, the B2s go back into the building and massacre everyone taking shelter in there.”
M8 flashed a warning in my HUD to get my attention. “Mistress, a substantial amount of the EM jamming just stopped. The town is largely clear now and there is a transmission in the clear, with no encryption.”
“Relay it to Anakin’s armor as well and let’s hear it,” I ordered immediately.
The com crackled briefly with static, before the typical low, droning voice of a T series droid vocabulator began speaking.
“This is TX-1502, speaking to the Jedi leading this attack. You will desist or my forces will begin killing the organic young of this town. They will pay the price for your defiance. Repeating. This is TX-1502, speaking to the Jedi-”
“M8, match the frequency, coordinate with Xanadu to scramble our location. Then open the channel.”
“Yes, mistress, one moment… done. Comlink open.”
“This is the Jedi speaking, TX1502. Have you contacted me to begin negotiations for your surrender?”
“That is illogical. You are not in a superior position and have achieved no victory. I have analyzed your attack and weaponry being used. It is antiquated. You most likely gathered the local natives to form your resistance.”
“It may be antiquated, but that doesn’t mean it's ineffective, TX.”
The Mimbanese snipers took another series of shots against their opposition, destroying eight droids in the process.
“You will stop your attack,” demanded TX. “I have calculated a high probability that you are watching. You can see I have four young organics, who I will order to be terminated unless you comply.”
“I have no ability to stop it. You are being attacked by members of the newly formed Mimbanese Liberation Army, I am merely assisting them. If you wish them to stop, I can pass along the message.”
“I calculate a high probability that you are lying. There is no such army and the natives are too primitive. It is more likely that you are just stalling for another stratagem to unfold.”
Really? Had the CIS not done any research on Mimban itself? Sure, information on the locals wasn't that common, and they’d kept themselves quite insular despite opening up to the Republic to allow mining and trade.
“What your tactical calculations conclude are irrelevant, we are only advisors and giving aid to the Liberation Army, we do not give them orders. You are welcome to try and contact them, attempt your threats there.”
I cut the link, “M8, keep monitoring that channel.”
“Yes, mistress.”
“Ahsoka, that is a very dangerous gamble,” Anakin said severely.
“I know, master, but we must stop acceding to any hostage taker’s demands. It merely serves and perpetuates the idea that all you have to do to manipulate a Jedi, is threaten someone’s life and the Jedi will run straight into your trap.”
TX didn’t truly have any body language to read, but its movements as it spoke to the B2s were decidedly jerky and quick.
“Ahsoka, what’s the rate of fire on that sniper?”
“As it is now, too slow against droid reaction times.”
“Do what you have to do, take all three out, now.”
I sensed he was right, the probability lines were shifting. TX was actually trying to contact the ‘MLA’, broadcasting across multiple frequencies. It would keep doing this for another minute before giving up and ordering the children killed anyway, just to demoralize, intimidate and further beat down the townsfolk watching. Was this machine truly that ignorant of sentient nature?
I wanted to light the spark of resistance, but not in this way.
My right hand flicked off the scope aiming computer, then the safety governors that were meant to keep the fire rate low to spare the barrel from melting. Then fell into the Force, embracing the concept that the GALAAR rifle was as part of it as I was. I sensed the hidden potential energy, the intricate dance of circuit and precision machinery, working together to achieve their effect. My right hand came forward to rest on the barrel shroud as I began to apply the only step I had so far mastered on the journey towards achieving true Force Stealth.
What is heat, but the energy transferred from one body to another that had a difference in temperature. What is temperature but a measure of the average kinetic energy of the particles in any matter. My focus shrunk and shrunk until I perceived the very electrons of the matter of my GALAAR rifle…
My eyes took in the scene…
The B2s, the TX, the four crying children in the droid’s uncaring cold grasp.
I breathed in.
I focused on the aim points… the sensor clusters in the left shoulder and straight for the head of the TX.
I breathed out.
My movements enhanced and sped up with the Force, my finger pulled the trigger.
In the next few milliseconds, the rifle whined, the light yellow plasma bolt leaving the barrel at 653 meters per second.
My aim traversed right and at the right moment, my finger squeezed again.
Another bolt streaked into the moist air and the barrel of the GALAAR began glowing as I had already driven it well beyond the normal thermal tolerances of the metal. My will crashed down onto the excess energy and I pulled it with TK, transferring it directly into the air around me.
In the next few milliseconds, my aim stopped right between the photoreceptors of the TX…
My finger squeezed the trigger again.
I didn’t need to look at the results, my focus was on bleeding the thermal energy away from the GALAARs barrel so it wouldn’t warp or melt into a puddle, setting fire to our perch.
Anakin’s armor kept him comfortable in the face of the rapid blasts of heat that radiated out from me, but he did the prudent thing to simply jump away in a blur of speed.
I grabbed my rifle and rolled out of the perch, pushing off a passing tree branch with a Force Jump.
Orange blaster bolts and rockets were already streaking our way and began peppering the trees above us.
I allowed gravity to carry me quickly to the forest floor and began sprinting and dodging around trees, slinging my rifle across my back in the process.
A rocket blew up right above me and shattered a large branch, sending razor sharp wooden shrapnel to pelt my back.
My armor was well up to that task though and it only served to tear and slice at the fabric of the Jedi half-robe portion of my armor.
We kept our Force empowered sprint going for a full thirty seconds, before Anakin signaled a stop to our retreat through the bond.
He was breathing quite hard and working the adrenaline high out of his system, “That was amazing shooting, Snips.”
“Thank you, master.”
“Just a little warning next time you’re going to use Alter Environment to that level when I’m right next to you.”
“Yes, master,” I nodded sheepishly.
Then we began hearing the sounds of many dozens of blaster rifles firing, echoing distantly from the town.
I pushed with my Farsight to see what was happening and smiled in relief.
“The children are alive.”
Anakin senses were also ranging outward, “The town is fighting back. We’ve done it.”
“Should we help, master?”
He placed a hand on my shoulder, “What do you think?”
I glanced at the dance of the future, “The battle will be hard, some will die, but they will win by sunset. If we involve ourselves further, the focus will shift to us. It will not be their victory anymore. They will see us as protectors, but will lose all confidence when we are gone. The answer is obvious.”
He nodded, “Judging when to help and not help is a crucial skill for Jedi. One that I have often failed at. I hope you will take this lesson and be better than me in this regard?”
“Yes, master.”
“Good, now let’s get back to Iasento.”
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Night had fallen on the town of Miststar and it was openly celebrating its first night of freedom since the nightmare of the droid occupation had begun.
The town had gathered in the central square and drum heavy music spilled out over the area, with a large central bonfire rising up into the humid sky. The population of the town, who was mostly human with a few assorted races, sprinkled in; laughed, danced and ate like there was no tomorrow.
I didn’t blame them really, as the whole town had been on the barest of food rationing just to survive. The CIS droids had hardly allowed anyone to go to the shops, which had remained closed or even forage in the forest.
There was even a small contingent of native Mimbanese from the Zhamor Tribe, who had joined in the festivities.
The mayor had welcomed them with tentative open arms, as the Zhamor’s direct contribution to liberation of the town had broken many old views and prejudices.
Speaking of which…
“Mayor’s coming our way,” I mumbled to Anakin as I drank from a rather delightfully sweet beverage made from a local fruit.
Our position next to the seating spots of the Zhamor, near the bonfire, wasn’t exactly prominent, but any of the townsfolk would see our armor, the symbols on them, the holstered lightsabers and know that the Jedi were here now at the celebration. That we had fought at the beginning of the battle had already spread through the town grapevine at hyperspeed.
Some accounts of the battle Anakin and I had fought had naturally been distorted as the ‘broken telephone’ effect kicked in and by this point the townsfolk had stories of me flying through the air with an infinite mass of rocks orbiting my body. Anakin had seemed to be in a dozen places at the same time as he mowed through droids with his lightsaber, as if he had been able to move so fast that it seemed he had briefly cloned himself.
The mayor of Miststar was not who I would picture when thinking of a mining town on a planet in the Expansion Region. The man honestly reminded me of a slightly gone to seed Mike Haggar. He was taller than Anakin, with a prodigious mustache, broad shoulders and hands that looked like he could easily close them around my thighs. It looked like they would need to dig extra wide tunnels in the mine for this man to fit through them.
“Master Jedi,” the mayor greeted in a rumbling booming voice, bowing his head. “Apologies for the late introduction, I've been very busy. Mayor Albluc Brolet, at your service.”
“No need for apologies, Mayor Brolet, your town has been through a traumatic time,” Anakin said with a smile and bow. “I’m Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, my padawan, Ahsoka Tano.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Brolet nodded, idly combing his large mustache with two fingers. “I want to formally thank you for your contribution to the liberation. I’m to gather that you had no small part in getting the tree felled.”
An interesting and apt local expression.
“Yes, the Jedi Council sent us as soon word reached Coruscant of the invasion. It’s fortuitous that my padawan and I were returning from another mission and our route home passed by Mimban.”
“Well, whatever provenance it was, I am glad. This last week has been a trying time, but I also know that we are fortunate. There are many worlds that have been enduring months of occupation by the accursed CIS. Miststar is but one small town and there is still the rest of Mimban to consider.”
“The Grand Army is on its way, Mayor Brolet,” assured Anakin. “Three days from tomorrow.”
“That is also a relief, but you will find the sentiment among the people of Mimban that we will not let the Republic do all the fighting and dying for us. This is our home, Master Jedi. We want the CIS to learn that coming here with the intent to murder and pillage, they will need to fight for every square meter of our world.” He shook a huge fist and had a rather impressively vicious expression.
“We will certainly speak about that in the coming days, Mayor. The next closest town is Astrakane?”
“Yes, good people there, two hundred kilometers south, beautiful town at the coast. Their mining operations are underwater… they do spend too much time on the beaches though. What’s the point, honestly? I can count the days of pure sunlight we get on one hand!”
I inwardly laughed but kept a good poker face. These sorts of places were always the same and the sentient condition always ensured that there was always some sort of rivalry going on.
“Then I’m sure Iasento and I would appreciate your help and knowledge in the planning for its liberation.”
“Yes, yes, of course, but that is for tomorrow, tonight we celebrate Master Jedi! Tomorrow we’ll mourn our dead and plan for the future!”
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It was now well over a day since the battle had ended and it left me feeling a bit listless and slightly depressed. The funerals for the dead, the cleanup of debris, wreckage and destroyed CIS droids, the repairs to homes and buildings; which I helped expedite by taking over some of the heavy lifting with TK… it all just piled on and dampened the spirit.
Then I had to sit through the planning sessions between Anakin, Mayor Brolet and Iasento.
Finally, I’d had enough and excused myself, heading to investigate something that had been bothering me in the back of my mind since the Battle of Miststar had begun. I also definitely craved some solitude and perhaps even a nice meditation would not go amiss.
So I visited the huge pile of destroyed CIS droids that was still steadily growing outside of town.
There was still a bit of debate going on what to do with the junk, but Anakin had prevailed on the mayor to not just summarily burn or incinerate it. Republic Intel had specialists on the Resolute and many other ships, whose sole job it was to come in behind the aftermath of battles and take samples of destroyed droids on the off chance that something new could be learned or some vital piece of data salvaged.
It was a thankless, painstaking job, but you never knew when the internal self-destruct or data scramble on a droid would fail to go off.
I walked away from the pile with the most relatively undamaged B1 head and torso I could find, including the blaster arm of a B2, packed onto a grav sled I borrowed and headed for the local mine.
Xanadu finally had a decent spot to land and drop its stealth near the Miststar mine. We had even refueled her from the local dumps, which Anakin insisted on paying for, even if the mayor had technically gifted it to us.
Once inside the confines of the ship I flopped down on the rear seating with a relieved sigh and just basked in the silence and solitude. Perceiving the emotions of the townsfolk as they went through the phases of celebration, happiness, the sorrow of the funerals, then just a grim determination to rebuild their town was somewhat like constantly standing next to a speaker playing various songs at varying volumes with different tones and melodies, that in turn triggered my own feelings.
Eventually you had to just step away and tell the rest of the world to frak off.
But before I could get a bit of meditation I needed to address the question that had been nagging me.
I lifted the B1 torso and after cleaning it off a bit with a rag, dumped it on the meditation bench.
“M8, Xanadu, full scan of this droid, please.”
Scanning holo-beams played over the B1 remains and began mapping it out in holoform above the bench. My eyes carefully scrutinized the results as I looked right to left on the virtual 3D mapping being done.
“Scan complete,” Xanadu said. “Damage to lower chest from a blaster rifle cored straight through the main power cell and a number of secondary circuits. The overload shorted out the primary-”
“Yes, thank you, Xanadu. I can tell that quite well without a full scan. The only problem is the level of damage I’m seeing here… it’s too extensive.”
“Mistress?” M8 queried in confusion.
“The blasters used by Mimbanese, the townsfolk and the Zhamor are not military grade firearms. They’re mostly used for hunting the game on this planet. Quite a few of the weapons the Zhamor were using are entirely homebrewed weapons, hand made in a workshop. Now, certainly, the B2s were shrugging off their shots a plenty, but even Clone DC model rifles struggle getting through that armor. B1 armor, cheap though it may be, should give a better level of protection than what I’m seeing here.”
“Unable to extrapolate without more data on the weapons the locals used, mistress,” Xanadu pointed out.
“Yeah, figured that. M8, you should have some combat footage of the effect the Mimbanese snipers had, upload that to Xanadu.”
“At once, mistress.”
It didn’t take long. “Confirmed, mistress. Damage observed to B1 armor in excess of predicted norms.”
“Only one reason for that, metallurgical analysis, please, M8.”
The scanning beams played over the B1 again and M8 put up a holo flatscreen with the results. I squinted at the screen to make sure I was reading correctly.
“What the kriff? That’s not right.”
“Correct, mistress. There’s an imbalance in the armor alloy composition in comparison to the known standard used by the CIS B1 droid. The amount of carvanium exceeds the recommended specifications. The result is that armor is excessively brittle to extreme temperature fluctuations.”
I sat back as my mind whirled with the implications. “So someone screwed up at the droid foundries and the CIS suddenly found themselves with a whole army group of defective models before they realized the problem. They then decided to make use of them anyway. Even brittle droids are still deadly at the end of the day.”
I put the blaster arm of the B2 on the couch. “Full scan, metallurgical as well.”
The results came a few seconds later and now I really had to pick my jaw up from the floor. “Same imbalance in carvanium? But… of course, the thicker armor would still help there. I wonder if it would stand up against repeated hits in the same spot. Should really try it out with all the droid debris we have out there.”
That would be very welcome news for when the clones arrived. It’d mean we could just break out the rotary blasters whenever we had to face B2s and not have to rely on sniper shots or anti-armor rockets.
For the immediate future it would also mean that the Mimbanese would have a much easier time in the battles to come. They could continue to use their current weapons and wouldn’t have to get issued DC-15s to become truly effective on the battlefield.
The only wrinkle now was whether it was wise to even tell them about the brittle armored droids they were fighting. There was a chance that the CIS also didn’t know that the army they had sent was technically defective.
If that was the case, then I was sitting on a very important secret.
The old adage of, never interrupt your enemy when they are making a mistake applied here. It was also highly likely that the CIS had spies watching how the invasion of Mimban was proceeding and monitoring the hyperwaves. If somehow, somewhere, they learned that the droids fighting on Mimban were defective then that would get back eventually to the CIS War Council and their droid foundries would be investigated top to bottom. The brittle armor issue would be rectified.
No, I had to sit on this. At most, I could tell Anakin only after impressing on him the need to keep this under wraps.
At the end of the day, this meant fewer clones and Mimbanese would die in the battle for this planet.
“Xanadu, M8, encrypt your memories of the past half hour and all data, shift to partition lambda and mark my voice pattern and biosig as the key, include the passphrase,” I shifted to speaking English, “Three point one, four, one, five, nine, two, six, five, three, five, eight, nine, seven, nine.”
“Affirmative, mistress. Memory encryption and partition complete.”
“Thank you, now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for some long overdue meditation.”
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A/N: The Battle of Mimban kicks off. Glad to get back to a bit of combat action. Have a great weekend all.