Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 148-150 - Attack?

The air became heavy.

It slid down Scout's throat, slipped into her robe, and clung tightly to her skin, like a damp, cold film, or like being squeezed by some unseen yet unusually stubborn force.

Until she saw the prisoners of war walking down the vertical road, their hair was dirty and tangled, their faces were covered in grime, but their eyes were like knives, fiercely piercing the world.

Scout then truly understood what the Battle of Kolmogoris, known as the largest battle in the galaxy in a thousand years, really meant.

This was a product of the Battle of Kolmogoks.

The prisoners of the Republic stretch as far as the eye can see.

Their eyes still held memories of the cold vacuum and the abyss of despair; their numbers were countless.

The column moved in an orderly but heavy manner.

Leading the group were officers, some of them exhausted, staggering, their uniforms tattered and faded.

Some, however, stubbornly held on, heads held high, maintaining their last shred of dignity.

The Duro, Tirek, Rodja, Zabrak... more than a hundred races that had once served the Republic were now all wrapped in the same tattered military uniforms.

Following closely behind was an army of clone soldiers.

Their faces were all identical, dressed in the iconic black, form-fitting combat suits, their silence suffocating.

Although he couldn't discern the rank of each person, Anakin's gaze swept across every face as they passed by.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan took a soft breath, his shoulders twitching almost imperceptibly, “hope, when it accumulates to a certain point, can turn into despair. You understand that.”

Anakin seemed to be pulled back from some thought. "I know, but where is that thread? What would Luminara be like now if Master Yoda hadn't told her to hold on to hope?"

His voice carried a hint of heaviness.

"Master Luminara... thought I was dead?" Baris's voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the footsteps of the prisoner-of-war troop.

“She didn’t, Apprentice.” Obi-Wan turned to look at her, his tone certain. “She never wavered in her faith in you.”

“But she didn’t come to me,” Paris whispered, her gaze fixed on the ground.

A very slight frown crossed Obi-Wan's forehead.

“I’m sure she contacted her, Paris.” His voice was gentle yet firm.

Paris did not refute, but her face did not show any sign of conviction.

“They must have noticed our absence over there in the square.” Pro Kong’s tone remained as calm as ever, as if the conversation hadn’t affected him. “We should go back and witness the formal exchange ceremony.”

“Um…” Ahsoka swallowed back the word “boring” that was about to slip out, and put it another way, “Shouldn’t we be on guard against terrorists?”

Scout nodded vigorously in agreement.

Standing there posing for photos with politicians was indeed tedious, not to mention watching thousands of prisoners of war parade in front of everyone, which in itself cast a shadow over her mind.

Ultimately, this was nothing more than a carefully prepared performance for the holographic network.

“I will return to the square.” Master Pro changed his suggestion, a knowing smile in his voice. “Vallis, would you like to come with me?”

The Mirialan apprentice shook his head. “If you allow me, I would like to speak with Master Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh? In that case, you can stay here with Anakin and Ahsoka. Scout, you come with me to patrol the Republic prisoner exchange area."

“Then leave the ceremony to me.” Master Pro nodded in agreement.

Before anyone else had left, Anakin had already begun scanning the nearby rooftops, seemingly looking for a vantage point to overlook the street.

"Paris, what do you want to tell me?"

Ahsoka noticed that Paris's gaze was fixed on her with a probing look, but when she looked over, the other woman immediately looked away.

“Master Skywalker,” Baris turned to Anakin, her voice clear, “I want to thank you for choosing to trust me in Atlantis. Your trust saved many lives.”

“You saved many people,” Anakin corrected, looking directly at her. “I am the one who should be thanking you. You saved me from making a terrible mistake, allowed me to survive among the Separatists, hold fast to my beliefs, and finally return to us… This was no easy feat. If it were up to me, Barris, you are fully deserving of the title of Jedi Knight.”

“You flatter me, Master.” Paris bowed slightly.

“I’m serious,” Anakin said with certainty. “To be honest, I’m not entirely clear on the criteria the Council uses to award the title of knight. There used to be specific trials, but my title was the first to be awarded primarily based on battlefield merits. During the war, the Council awarded a much larger number of titles, so I think they are very likely to award it to you as well.”

“You… I mean,” Ahsoka couldn’t help but ask the question that had been lingering in everyone’s minds but no one had pointed it out, “how did you join the separatists?”

“It was another Jedi who helped me,” Barris replied absentmindedly, as if recalling something. “They told me that Dooku either had to hand me over or kill me. The only way out was to hand over the lightsaber, pretend I was dead, and then join Starfleet for refuge.”

"Another Jedi? Someone else?" Ahsoka pressed.

“There are still quite a few,” Paris replied briefly.

"Stop asking, Ahsoka," Anakin interjected, his tone gentle but cautionary. "I'm sure you don't like being pressed for answers to questions you don't want to answer, and neither do I."

“Yes, Master,” Ahsoka replied, turning his gaze to the surrounding building facades, carefully searching for any suspicious signs.

As they passed through a dimly lit alley, an image flashed through Ahsoka's mind. An armored arm was gripping her neck tightly, and her lightsaber fell from her hand.

Almost instinctively, her body reacted faster than her mind.

When that arm, which seemed to appear out of nowhere, reached out to her, she reacted with lightning speed, precisely grabbing the attacker's forearm and twisting it sharply. At the same time, she shoved her shoulder into the attacker's armpit, using the force to turn the attacker around and slam him hard into the brick wall next to her!

With her other arm, she pressed it firmly against the other person's throat!

Enemy attack!

The thought had barely formed in her mind when the distinctive "humming" sound of a lightsaber activating brought her back to reality.

Anakin's blue light blade was firmly planted between the attacker's eyebrows.

She was a woman with dark skin, narrow eyes, and messy brown hair.

"Who are you?!" Anakin demanded sharply, his voice carrying an unquestionable authority.

Pointed at by the blinding blue beam of light, the woman slowly raised her hands, her face deathly pale.

"Wait! Don't hurt Dono!" Another woman rushed out from the depths of the alley, her hands raised above her head, her voice filled with panic, "It's my fault! I don't know if you'll listen to us...!"

Dono, who was pinned against the wall by Asoka, struggled for a moment, and then she immediately increased the strength of her arms.

The woman, Weng Delun, suddenly coughed violently, spitting as she struggled to breathe.

"Master?" Ahsoka turned to Anakin, seeking guidance.

Only then did she realize that Paris seemed completely oblivious to the raid, her attention still firmly fixed on the advancing prisoner-of-war column in the distance.

“Release her, Ahsoka,” Anakin commanded, carefully shifting the threatening target of his lightsaber between the two women.

“Looks like there really are terrorists,” Ahsoka said, taking a step back from the wall and releasing Dono. She shook her slightly numb arm. “Seeing everyone so on guard, I thought we’d be safe and sound today.”

“We’re not terrorists! My name is Stella, and this is Dono.” Stella raised her arms higher, her curly hair trembling slightly with excitement. “We just want to find a place where no one is watching us to talk to you… It’s so difficult, this is our only chance!”

"You trespassed into a restricted area and attacked Jedi Knights," Anakin coldly pointed out, forcing the two men back into the alley with his lightsaber. "It would be hard for anyone to believe you weren't terrorists."

“I…you’re much stronger than you look,” Dono said hoarsely, rubbing his neck as he backed away.

“I’ve heard that often,” Ahsoka replied, placing his hand on the clasp of his lightsaber.

"Wait!" Stella called out urgently, "At least let us finish what we have to say!"

“Alright,” Anakin’s voice carried a hint of feigned ease, “tell me, why shouldn’t I hand you two over to Ondron’s army?”

“Because they will kill us!” Stella’s voice rose with fear, her eyes filled with despair.

“I think you might be overreacting a bit,” Anakin said calmly. “If you’re not overreacting… well, then you should be smarter and not do it this way.”

“We need your help!” Stella almost pleaded. “The Jedi are our last hope!”

“We’re here to stop people like you from disrupting the peace,” Ahsoka interjected, his tone somewhat harsh. “Why don’t you report this to the council or something?”

“No—we want the separatists out of our planet!” Dono couldn’t help but shout, his voice carrying the stubbornness unique to the Ondron people. “It’s not just the two of us, many people in Izzi think so! Those robots suddenly appeared one day, took over our city, and are swaggering around in the streets! You’re Jedi, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you help us drive them away?”

“I haven’t seen a single robot yet.” Anakin raised an eyebrow and looked around.

“They’ll be back as soon as you leave!” Stella added eagerly, her hands clenched tightly. “They’ve only left temporarily!”

“So what do you want us to do?” Anakin chuckled, his expression incredulous. “To overthrow a legitimate government while we’re trying to broker a ceasefire on their turf? Listen, go home! Forget about it! The cities we see here are full of people living normal lives, and you should too. The war will end soon, and the robots will be gone forever.”

“They won’t!” Dono retorted fiercely, his eyes burning with defiance. “We are Ondron people, we are used to patience, we are used to perseverance, but the separatists have been exploiting us.”

They overthrew our real king, installed a puppet, and then occupied our cities, expecting us to obediently accept our fate!

You can't see these things because we're too proud to let you see our wounds, but separatists are like a slow poison, slowly suffocating us.

So please, please help us!

Ahsoka's heart sank, and he looked nervously at his master.

What if... what if what they're saying is true?
The Ondron authorities never revealed any information about the rebellion to them, but then again, if they had, the planet might not have been chosen as the summit location.

The royal government clearly wants to avoid any unforeseen complications.

Remove all robots from the city to create a false impression of a peaceful, neutral summit.

Once the Republic's delegation leaves, those robots will return with even greater power.

“So,” Anakin’s voice deepened, his lightsaber humming in the dim alley, its blue light illuminating his stern face, “what exactly do you want us to do?”

“We don’t need you to fight for us!” Stella explained urgently, her eyes pleading. “It’s mainly weapons! Modern weapons, and training! You don’t have to fight yourself, but please help us learn to fight on our own!”

ha?
Ahsoka's heart skipped a beat.

These people...haven't they received any training?
How did they manage to sneak into the restricted area without anyone noticing, bypassing so many patrolling guards?
(End of this chapter)