Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 221-223 - A Trapped Beast's Struggle
Longen Nebula.

Anakin and Ventress fought their way through the corridors and bulkheads.

As Anakin dealt with the situation, he mentally sketched out the internal structure of the spaceship, comparing it to the layout of the PCL 27 spaceship he was familiar with.

After roughly figuring out the location, he began to consciously force Ventress towards the area where Apo and the main force of the 501st Legion were located, preparing to work together to subdue her.

Sparks from the clash of lightsabers left molten marks on the wall, and the blinding golden light of the molten metal illuminated the dusty passageway.

Ventress fled, Anakin pursued her, the two clashed, and Ventress broke free again and fled once more.

This was repeated many times until Anakin finally forced her into the designated position.

Apo has subdued Naradan Dulin and her Mistral people in the makeshift emergency airlock area, where the Mistral spacecraft "Sharihen" is docking with "Storm-001".

The Mistral people lingered, clearly waiting for a distinguished guest—

Asagi Ventress himself.

The problem is that if Ventress wants to break through the mercenaries' defenses, she must cross a narrow passage, which is already firmly blocked by dozens of clone soldiers on both sides.

"Ventris!" Naradan shouted, "Come here quickly!"

“It’s over, Ventress.” Anakin pointed his sword at her.

The Sith assassin was nearing his limit, struggling to hold on under the Chosen One's relentless assault for nearly half an hour.

Her dress was almost torn, revealing her bodysuit underneath and the bandages wrapped around her long legs.

His arms were covered with blisters and burns.

Those were marks left by Anakin's lightsaber coming within millimeter of each other.

“Come on, let’s see if you can run away,” Anakin said coldly.

Ventress's eyes were wild, his gaze darting rapidly between the Jedi Knights and the deadly crossfire behind him.

She knew she was trapped.

Anakin's old wounds throbbed with pain, and his lightsaber crackled in his hand as he was eager to settle old scores.

Asagi Ventress bit his lip.

Then she rushed out.

The passage was instantly engulfed by explosive fire.

Anakin rushed out after him, only to be met with a series of darts thrown by several Mistral men.

Unable to raise his sword to parry, he instinctively raised his right arm and swung it—

Of course, it couldn't be blocked, and the needle pierced deep into his arm.

Anakin frowned.

He met the eyes of the Mistral man and saw confusion in his eyes, wondering why he hadn't yet been knocked out by the toxin injected into his blood.

Before the enemy could launch a second attack, Apo's soldiers tightened their defenses and opened fire fiercely, forcing the mercenaries to either retreat or fall to the ground, desperately waving their hands to urge Ventress to charge.

Anakin moved his gloved arm, the mechanical fingers buzzing and bending flexibly.

He grinned, and everything was functioning normally.

Just as Ventress was about to break through the blockade, he used the Force to grab her and pull her back to his side.

The Sith assassin twisted his body in mid-air like a juggler, and immediately swung his sword to counterattack upon landing.

But this fearless hero has lost patience.

Anakin Skywalker responded with an unexpected barrage of attacks, a devastating elbow strike to her abdomen disrupting her rhythm.

He pressed forward relentlessly, while she retreated continuously, her lightsaber flashing coldly in time with his steady heartbeat.

As Ventress retreated again in an attempt to escape, his mechanical arm shot out and gripped her throat like a pair of iron clamps.

The protective gloves were still stained with dripping venom.

The merciless knuckles dug deep into her warm neck, easily lifting the relatively petite woman off the ground, her legs kicking in vain.

He slowly applied pressure and crushed the trachea.

Ventress mustered her last strength and swung her lightsaber in a final, desperate strike.

Anakin slammed her to the ground, freeing his mechanical arm to deflect her downward slash.

The mechanical fingers gripped her wrist tightly, and with a roar of power, first twisted off her crimson lightsaber, then crushed all the bones in her wrist.

Ventress let out a piercing scream, the shriek even drowning out the clamor of the battle.

The Jedi and the Sith locked eyes again, and for the first time, fear filled the latter's eyes.

She struggled desperately, but it was almost impossible for her to escape Anakin's iron grip, especially since her restrained hands were limp and wet like paper.

Ahead, the 501st Legion is forcing the Mistral people back into the airlock.

Ventress's chances of escape are slipping away.

In that instant, Anakin thought to himself, how easy it would be to finish off this assassin right now.

But is this something that a desperate situation would do?
At this moment, what echoed in his mind was not Padmé, not Yoda, not Quigan, and not even Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It's Asoka.

She looked at him with her big, curious eyes, eager to prove herself by imitating his every move.

"Surrender, Ventress, and I won't have to kill you."

Ventress responded with a venomous look and spat at him.

Anakin sighed, raising his sword to finish off his enemy. "I gave her a chance," he told himself.

However, he did not expect that Ventress would ignite her last remaining lightsaber, swing it to the elbow and sever the captured arm, thus breaking free.

With a flash of red light, Ventress regained her freedom and fled in panic, leaving the Jedi Knight standing there, clutching a still-smoking severed limb.

Without hesitation, Ventress used the Force to push aside the clone soldiers blocking his way and leaped toward the temporary safe zone where Naradan and the Mystraar were located.

Anakin was completely enraged and charged after her, reaching out with his Force again to grab her back—but a surge of electricity coursed through his limbs, and Anakin realized with a start that he was holding an electric whip.

A Mistral man attempted to use this to bind the Jedi's arm.

Before he could swing his sword to get rid of it, another electric whip wrapped around his other arm.

Anakin writhed in pain as another wave of agony surged through him, but he gritted his teeth and endured it without uttering a sound.

The clone soldiers continued their advance, but Anakin knew they were too late.

Many Mistral men have fallen at the airlock, and Ventress will use these sacrifices to escape successfully.

Anakin, like a trapped beast, endured excruciating pain and took another difficult step forward.

As if in response, a third Mistral lashed out with an electric whip at his leg, and Anakin convulsed again in golden lightning, enough to paralyze him for a moment.

Ventress and the last few Mistral men took the opportunity to pass through the airlock.

Crucially, the three Mistral men who had entangled him were unable to break free.

Before they could retreat, the bubble airlock suddenly closed as if deflated.

"Seal it off!" Apo shouted, and the clone engineers promptly deployed their own emergency gas seals to prevent everyone from being sucked out of the breach in the hull.

Anakin's face was stiff and cold as he transformed his pain into anger, and his anger into power.

Even when the Mistral charged again, Anakin barely paid it any attention, using his insulated mechanical arm to tightly wrap the two electric whips around his wrists and pulling hard—

The two people were practically lifted off the ground.

Anakin's lightsaber pierced the first man's chest and then gripped the second man's throat.

This time, without hesitation, he snapped her neck as easily as crushing a soda can.

He walked towards the last person.

She was an older woman who stood before him without flinching, her eyes as firm as stone, trying to conceal the tremor that his keen senses could detect.

"Why?" Anakin's voice was as cold as ice as he pointed to the surrounding corpses.

"Everything...for Emberon!" the Mistral woman screamed, charging forward with her vibrating blade.

The clone soldiers didn't even have time to react; they simply silently tallied the casualties.

Anakin pulled a True Needle from the mechanical arm and threw it before she could get close.

Within seconds, the old woman collapsed into his arms.

He threw her aside without a shred of pity.

“If the Mistral want to take the ‘Storm Fleet’ away, the interference must be removed first,” Anakin stretched his shoulders. “Once the interference stops, immediately try to contact our gunboats and order an emergency pursuit.”

"As you command, sir."

"...Apo, do you think I was wrong?" Anakin looked down at his fleshy arm, a patch of red lightning bolt-shaped markings now appearing on his forearm. "Should I have seized the opportunity to kill Ventress just now?"

“I will do that,” Apo replied immediately. “Mission takes precedence, but you are a Jedi, sir, Jedi have their own way… Can I be frank?”

"explain."

Apo straightened up. “I know you try to be both a Jedi and a warrior, and you want to teach Ahsoka to do the same, but sometimes the two conflict, like right now. So… in my opinion, General, you need to decide which one you want to be, otherwise this kind of thing will keep happening, and you will keep asking yourself the same questions.”

“You’re being very direct,” Anakin sighed, “but I appreciate it. How long do you think it will take us to return to Yagdul?”

If Apo was surprised by the sudden change of topic, he did not show it.

The helmets of clone soldiers are not good at expressing emotions.

“We have suffered heavy losses under the attack of the ‘Storm Fleet’,” the clone commander reported. “We need to take a headcount, search for survivors, and… tally the casualties.”

Are separatists included in the statistics?
Anakin wanted to ask.

But he didn't ask, because he already knew the answer.

Separatists don't count the losses; they just keep building soulless machines and ships to fill the numbers on the data sheets.

“Okay,” Anakin rubbed his face, facing the heavy reality. “Damn it.”

Ventress escaped from his grasp once again.

However, the primary objective of this operation is to prevent the "Storm Fleet" from reinforcing the Peremian Alliance fleet.

Anakin had no way of knowing at this moment whether they had caused enough damage to achieve their goal.

Frustrated, he slammed his fist into the bulkhead.

"Fake!"

The bulkhead dented in response.

……

Pain was nothing new to Ventress, but Anakin Skywalker always had a way of making her forget the pain tolerance she had honed during her time as Dooku's chief apprentice.

Ventress slumped against the gleaming steel panels of the Mistral flagship, barely able to recall her pride and dignity. Her only remaining hand gripped her throat, desperately trying to pry open the invisible hand that still seemed to be holding her captive.

She could barely feel the alternating numbness and excruciating pain in her body as her nervous system struggled to adapt to the dramatic change of losing her entire arm.

At least, she won't bleed to death.

The lightsaber burned and sealed the wound.

For the first time in her memory, she felt grateful for such small strokes of luck.

"Help her up," a female voice commanded, and Ventress was roughly dragged up from the ground.

She could feel her cheeks covered in a mixture of tears, sweat, saliva, and blood.

She coughed violently, her voice hoarse, and through her blurred vision, she could see red saliva, and perhaps fragments of her trachea flying out of her mouth.

In this dazed state of pain and numbness, she heard a few curses in an alien language and thought to herself that she was lucky, as her neck was relatively intact.

Ventress tried to inhale, but this triggered another bout of excruciating coughing, as if she were inhaling unrefined tibanna instead of oxygen, her throat burning like fire.

(End of this chapter)