KS-13RT-7047 rolled across the scorched earth, evading a lethal energy blast while firing an energy bolt into the torso of a B-2 Battle Droid.
The robot's metallic shell exploded instantly, its wreckage crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar.
His grenade launcher was long out of ammunition, now discarded next to Number Forty-One's corpse. Moments ago, he had taken this DS-15 Blaster Rifle from his comrade's cold, lifeless hands.
Luck wasn't on his side.
Number Forty-Five's makeshift shelter had been obliterated by a direct hit from a proton bomb. The resulting shockwave had overturned the entire trench, leaving Number Forty-Seven to suspect that not even a single intact fragment remained.
He rolled into a surviving section of the trench, swiftly swapping out the energy magazine while keeping his finger tight on the trigger.
In the distance, a surviving Blaster Cannon continued to fire rhythmically, its dull booms the only semblance of order amidst the chaos.
The battle raged on, and his duty remained unfulfilled.
From somewhere in the rear, a surviving Blaster Cannon continued to fire rhythmically—
The tremors in the Command Center Building finally subsided.
The Confederacy's Hyena Bombers had penetrated the dense anti-aircraft fire and dropped their lethal proton bombs.
Each bomber carried six bombs. Now, most of the base's defensive structures had been reduced to rubble. The trenches had collapsed, the laser turrets were twisted and mangled, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and molten metal.
But reinforcements had arrived!
The situation began to improve.
"Rinuan's finally here," Solo said, rising from a crate and walking to the tactical table. "Now the real show begins."
On the holographic display, two fleets were hurtling toward each other at high speed. The Republic reinforcements' firepower was already erupting into plumes of plasma among the Confederate ships.
The threat of the second wave of air raids had been completely neutralized, but Solo's brow remained furrowed. Inside the base, BX-series commando droids disguised as escape pods had landed and were causing havoc.
These robots were based on the battle-hardened B-1 model, but engineers had thoroughly reimagined them, making them far more agile and precise than their prototype. They were the Confederacy's versatile elite special forces.
I hope Ahsoka can handle this, Solo thought, then shook his head.
Ahsoka was a Jedi, and more importantly, her innate competitiveness meant she would never retreat in the face of such a fierce battle. Instead, she would grow stronger with each clash—she was probably even enjoying herself right now.
In orbit, TX-07 watched as a Munificent-class frigate disintegrated into a searing cloud of plasma. His core processor swiftly concluded: Mission failed.
The sudden arrival of Republic reinforcements, sent to rescue these "meatbags," had dealt a devastating blow to his fleet.
Yet the tactical droid refused to surrender completely. Based on his calculations, this wasn't an absolute defeat.
"All ships, execute a hyperspace jump to the friendly system! Frigates 1 through 6, follow the flagship to coordinates E-4-4-2-1!"
"Roger! Roger!"
The mechanical voices of the bridge operators echoed in unison.
Ahsoka's blue lightsaber whirled in her hand, forming an impenetrable defensive barrier. She leaped agilely, evading the robots' fire.
The BX Commando Droids moved with remarkable speed, combining the durability of B-2s with the agility lacking in B-1s. Their blaster fire was unerringly accurate, each shot aimed directly at vital points.
Buzz!
But this only stoked her fighting spirit. She sidestepped an energy blast, and with a swift horizontal slash of her lightsaber, cleanly severed a droid's head. The metallic wreckage crashed to the ground with a clang.
For the clone troopers, the assault robots were formidable opponents, but Solo had anticipated this.
The clones accompanying Ahsoka were equipped with vibration blades and reinforced armor. Even if they couldn't achieve victory easily, their seamless coordination allowed them to gradually eliminate the enemy without sustaining any casualties.
I hope Master could see me now, Ahsoka thought silently, her lightsaber thrusting with practiced precision, elegantly piercing another robot's core.
Lagnos watched with relief as the remnants of the Separatist fleet jumped into hyperspace. Commander Rinuan's ship then began deploying troops to the planet's surface to mop up the remaining robot forces.
Just as he let out a sigh of relief, a shrill alarm shattered the calm on the bridge.
"Captain! A ship has emerged from hyperspace—it's a Separatist fleet! Seven vessels in total!"
The Zabrak stared in shock at the screen, watching seven Confederacy warships hurtle directly toward the fuel factory orbiting the gas giant.
"All ships, prepare for battle immediately! Intercept the enemy vessels!"
Dingyuan, Dawn Blossom, Hunter, and Beacon opened fire simultaneously, their turbolaser cannons tracing brilliant arcs through space.
Ignoring the attacks entirely, the Separatist warship accelerated through the Fleet's defenses, launching a suicidal assault.
Seeing this, Lagnos immediately understood the Separatists' objective.
"Their target is the Fuel Factory! Notify the Arsenin—!"
Falk had already reacted. The Arsenin surged forward at full speed, positioning itself between the factory and the enemy ship.
The Separatist flagship opened fire first, followed by six Munificent-class frigates. Their heavy bow guns overwhelmed the Arsenin's shields, while ion cannons paralyzed its propulsion system.
Then, concentrated fire turned toward the factory. The reactor housing bulged and ruptured under the bombardment, releasing torrents of plasma.
A Pelta-class frigate failed to evade in time and was instantly engulfed by the plasma, disintegrating into ash.
Though the fuel didn't explode, it provided ample fuel for the raging inferno. Massive flames spread in all directions, and one Munificent-class frigate, ablaze, crashed directly into the helpless Arsenin.
In space, another new star flared brightly—then faded.
"All ships, retreat to Donovia orbit."
Lagnos's voice trembled slightly; he was still reeling from the shock of the loss of Falk and the entire crew of the Arsenin.
Solo stood on the battered landing platform, his feet treading on shattered metal plates. In the distance, the barracks continued to emit black smoke.
The base they had painstakingly built had been reduced to rubble before their very eyes.
While he waited for Rinuan and the two captains, communications had been restored, and he had sent a battle report to Military District Command.
The response came swiftly and was direct: "Gather all portable supplies and immediately proceed to Lantilles. Upon arrival, contact the Council and await further instructions."
With the Fuel Factory destroyed, this star system, including Donovia, had lost its strategic value, rendering the garrison unnecessary.
Perhaps a small surveillance station would be established here in the future, but for now, they needed to withdraw quickly.
Rinuan's forces landed behind the robots, executing a textbook attack that eliminated all remaining robots within an hour.
The statistics were disheartening.
Solo began to reflect on everything.
They seemed to have won the battle, but this so-called "victory" had come at an extraordinarily heavy cost.
Their robot forces were virtually annihilated; 2,140 clone troopers had been killed, and 3,000 wounded, with most casualties resulting from bomber strikes.
Only twelve of the captured Armored Assault Tanks remained operational.
The base structures were severely damaged, leaving nothing but rubble and wreckage.
"We're like beggars, left to gather what's left and leave," he muttered to himself.
"Commander Bram!"
"General, what are your orders?"
Bram hurried over, his face etched with exhaustion.
"Arrange the funeral. We'll be leaving soon, and we probably won't be coming back."
"I've already given the orders, Commander. Same place as before?"
"Yes, let the boys rest together."
A shuttle roared overhead, carrying Rinuan's command staff. Nearby, the Dingyuan and Dawn Blossom slowly touched down on the landing platform.
Rinuan descended the gangway and strode directly toward Solo.
"General, it's good to see you," he said.
"Commander," Solo nodded in greeting, a faint smear of blood still visible on his face.
Rinuan observed Solo's exhausted state. "What happened to you?"
"Not great," Solo replied, instinctively frowning as a dull ache pierced his brain.
Rinuan surveyed the battered base, his voice heavy. "You've suffered significant losses."
"Separatist bombers and assault robots," Solo explained. "Those assault robots landed disguised as escape pods."
"Damn bastards," Rinuan swore, a rare curse slipping from his lips.
According to the Galactic War Law, escape pods are strictly prohibited from being used in military operations, a measure designed to protect the lives of personnel evacuating in emergencies. The Separatists, however, had clearly ignored this rule, just as they disregard all other laws.
He stepped aside and asked the commander, "What's your next plan?"
"Headquarters orders us to proceed to Lantilles and await further instructions from the Council."
Rinuan looked slightly surprised, then smiled. "I almost forgot you're a Jedi. My troops are boarding now—we'll head out first."
"We'll catch up as soon as we finish here," Solo replied.
Elizabeth approached El Jensen, who stood beside the half-destroyed barracks, his uniform caked in dust and grime.
"Hutts... what a brutal battle."
"Yeah. When those bombers started dropping their bombs, I thought we were all done for." El Jensen crossed his arms, his eyes weary and grief-stricken. "Nearly two hundred of our brothers didn't make it, and their sacrifices still weren't enough to save the factory."
"This isn't some petty skirmish with pirates, Gregory," Elizabeth said gravely. "This is... war."
Solo and Ahsoka stood shoulder-to-shoulder before the monument at the base's edge.
The stone monument bore newly added plaques, neatly aligned, each engraved with the serial numbers of fallen clone troopers.
Since our deployment to Donovia, the death toll has approached six thousand.
"Master, will we ever return here?" Ahsoka suddenly asked, her voice tinged with reluctance.
"Probably not. Why do you ask?"
"Hmm... I just hope someday we can come back and see how this place has changed."
Solo fell silent, unable to answer.
Just then, a Clone Trooper pilot hurried over. "General, all personnel and supplies have been loaded. We're ready to depart."
"Good." Solo turned and patted Ahsoka on the shoulder. "Let's go, Spike."
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