Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 61 - Atlaken
Atlas, Catalina.

The Loryon Sector.

In Atlantis, as long as you stay under the hastily erected ray shield dome, the scenery within the safe zone is still quite beautiful.

These refuge areas are no longer temporary structures; after months of development, they have transformed into a chaotic yet vibrant village composed of tents and makeshift shacks.

Civilians are being slowly evacuated by spaceships, while the safe zone itself is constantly changing and expanding.

Outside the shield, patrol robots moved about, their scanners constantly monitoring for unseen threats.

Paris noticed that the radiation readings weren't as terrifying as she had imagined.

Of course, it was still at a dangerous level, but it was far from the hellish scene she had envisioned.

That's not true at all.

Outside the area protected by the shield, the earth was still covered with lush green vegetation, and the morning dew clung to the blades of grass, shimmering in the light.

The branches and leaves of the trees rustled in the wind, and unknown birds sang melodiously from the branches.

Lieutenant Carol explained it very clearly: the Republic's strikes were only aimed at strategic facilities, even if this inevitably affected cities.

But inland, in these areas where safety zones have been established... the environment remains peaceful.

Seeing this, Paris even felt that there was no war breaking out on this land.

Visually, this place is far from uninhabitable.

There wasn't even a trace of radioactive dust in the air.

Paris took a deep breath.

But this is just an illusion.

Radiation itself is invisible and intangible.

The sense of security she felt at that moment depended entirely on the buzzing shield dome above her head.

The peaceful appearance of this land contrasts sharply with the inner state of the people living there.

Those Refugee Relief Movement (RRM) transport ships that descended from the leaden clouds, despite their drab and worn appearance, were seen by the Atlanteans as angelic messengers.

However, when the spacecraft landed and the gangway was lowered, there were no cheers or celebrations as expected.

People silently lined up, their eyes vacant, with a faint hope, just hoping to climb the narrow gangway before the cargo ship was fully loaded and the hatches were closed.

Those who failed to board the ship did not show obvious despair on their faces.

For months, they have witnessed hundreds of spaceships come and go.

They knew they could only wait.

This is the only thing they can do.

move on.

They moved forward, carrying only their meager belongings.

There was neither joy nor utter despair, only a tenacious determination to survive and to hold on to that tiny hope in one's heart.

Paris blinked, trying to relax her tense body and calm her inner turmoil.

Almost instinctively, she extended her senses to touch the people in line, feeling the Force flowing through each of them and sensing the surging tides of emotion within them.

She felt their emotions and kept them in her heart.

Rem Carroll strode up to the platform where she was standing. "Sir, the Republic fleet has entered the system."

Paris took a beat to realize she was being told a report, and asked hesitantly, "They just walked right into the minefield?"

The officer's expression was serious. "Yes, sir. They used cruisers to force their way through, clearing mines and clearing the path. Our initial assessment by the detection robots indicates that at least fifteen enemy ships sustained varying degrees of damage while passing through the minefield."

He jumped straight out of hyperspace and plunged headlong into the minefield...

Paris thought to herself that the Republic soldiers on those ships probably hadn't even realized what was happening.

Do you think this is their entire force?

"Do you mean they might have follow-up troops?" Carol looked down at the tactics board in her hand. "It's unlikely, but it's always good to be cautious... The key now is that their large Jedi cruisers definitely can't get through the minefield, so what we really need to deal with are the smaller ships and starfighters that have successfully broken through the blockade."

He looked up at Paris, seemingly mistaking her silence for hesitation. "We can handle them, sir. We have the capability."

“Of course we can,” Barris responded, trying to sound confident, though she wasn’t entirely sure, “but this time they’re likely to be commanded by a Jedi general.”

“Oh,” Carol’s expression instantly fell, and she replied dejectedly, “Those guys who can foresee danger…maybe they really can find a way through the minefield, right?”

This... was not what Barris meant, but she did not correct Carol's misunderstanding.

Her gaze returned to the safe zone beneath her feet, etching the scene deeply into her memory.

In this vast plain and rolling mountains, there are dozens, if not hundreds, of such safe zones scattered throughout the area.

“Let’s go,” Paris finally said. “Yes, sir.”

The two of them split up.

Carroll's vessel, the "Habatok II," is a Correlia-built CR-90 light frigate, which is currently moored on a makeshift landing pad not far from the settlement.

While IGBC (Interstellar Banking Group) frigates like the "Unicorn" commanded by Barris possess atmospheric flight capabilities, they lack landing gear.

This large warship, like a suspended steel mountain, hovers silently above the clouds.

On her way to the shuttle, Paris remained lost in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to a little boy holding a baby.

In an instant, their eyes met in mid-air.

The little boy mumbled something hurriedly in the local dialect she couldn't understand, then turned and rushed towards the waiting line while holding the baby.

Paris instinctively turned around and watched his small figure disappear into the crowd.

She only caught one word, a basic vocabulary word with a heavy local accent that was barely recognizable:
"kindness."

The word weighed heavily on Paris's heart.

……

On the other side, the Republic's fleet navigated through the minefield.

"Give me a complete damage assessment report immediately!" General Yularen's voice was tinged with barely perceptible tension as his fingers pointed rapidly and forcefully at the control panel.

“Calm down, Admiral.” Anakin reached out and patted the older officer on the shoulder. “The situation looks like it’s still under control.”

“General, we have seriously underestimated the extent of the minefield,” Yularen said, his brow furrowed and his upper lip pressed into a line. “Either the separatists expanded the minefield deployment after General Krell’s last report, or the drift trajectory of this minefield has changed.”

“Let’s just consider this an unpredictable external interference,” Anakin shrugged. “In space, nothing is absolutely static.”

Yularen let out a sigh of frustration and took the data panel from a tense damage control officer beside him: "General, but the reality is that our large cruisers are completely stuck, and the repair work will be a big problem."

He quickly scanned the information on the screen.

Anakin crossed his arms and looked out the huge observation window on the bridge. "Contact General Krell and request instructions for the next course of action."

"Lieutenant!"

Admiral Yularen immediately turned to the port communications console and looked at the communications officer.

“Yes, sir!” Lieutenant Avrey quickly confirmed the operation. “Connecting to the ‘Crysaor’… Received encrypted communication reply, signal transfer to bridge main screen or…”

“Receive him here, Lieutenant,” Anakin said without turning around, still gazing at the stars. “Thank you.”

A holographic image of General Krell appeared from a projector in the center of the bridge; the imposing Bethalisk Jedi Master was shrunk to half his life-size.

Pom Krell is one of the most prestigious masters in the Jedi Temple, renowned for his immense strength and unique dual-wielding lightsaber skills.

Anakin couldn't help but wonder what state this warrior, known for his resilience, was in now after nearly half a year of commanding on the meat grinder-like battlefield of Atlaken.

Through the Force, the answer came clearly:
Very bad.

The feeling of fatigue emanates from the images like tangible waves.

Despite General Krell’s best efforts to conceal it, the shadows around his eyes and the heavy, powerless feeling emanating from his four arms could not be hidden.

Outside the video, one of his arms appears to be bracing against some support, which is why his body is barely keeping from swaying.

A gloomy aura enveloped him, an aura Anakin was all too familiar with.

This war drained everyone, and Master Krell paid a particularly heavy price.

Anakin didn't point this out, and instead said, "Master Krell, this is Anakin Skywalker of the 'Open Ring Fleet.' We have arrived with reinforcements. Where do you need us to deploy?"

“You have finally arrived, General Skywalker,” Master Krell’s voice was low and hoarse, tinged with obvious weariness. “You have come at just the right time. There are a mountain of missions to be accomplished, but your mission now is simple: engage the enemy in direct combat, keep attacking, and shoot down their last ship.”

Simple?
Anakin was unconvinced.

General Yularen coughed lightly, stepped forward, and said, "General, I'm afraid you need to explain in more detail. Our current situation is not ideal."

"The separatists have been frantically producing new ships in secret shipyards on the satellite in an attempt to replenish their forces. To this end, they are smuggling a key mineral, Duonium, from the surface of Atlantis."

Master Krell crossed his four arms in front of him and continued, "I plan to lead a gunboat squadron, under the cover of your fighter jets, to forcefully break through their defenses and penetrate the atmosphere for a landing operation."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "There are only two key targets on the satellite Trilos: the capital, New Catelyn, and the mountain range I suspect harbors the shipyard. If your gunboats can find a gap through the minefield, General Skywalker, you are welcome to join our landing operation."

“Our large warships are completely unable to pass through minefields,” Yularen reiterated this grim fact, “which means our pilots will be engaged in air combat without any rear support.”

“I admit this isn’t the optimal solution,” Krell said, his expression unchanged and his voice flat, “but ever since the separatists poisoned the entire planet with radiation, every battle we’ve fought here has been anything but ‘optimal’… I don’t see any other viable options. Do you?”

(There's one more chapter, around 8 PM)

(End of this chapter)