Chapter 5: First Deployment
POV: Kael Vorn
The Temple hangar bay smelled of ozone and starship fuel, a cocktail of scents that made Kael's stomach churn. He stood near the loading ramp of Anakin's personal freighter, the Twilight, wearing borrowed Republic combat fatigues that hung loose on his frame. The practice lightsaber at his belt felt like a toy—a constant reminder that the Council didn't trust him with real weapons.
"Can't say I blame them."
"First combat deployment?"
The voice belonged to Captain Rex, the clone officer's armor gleaming white and blue under the hangar's harsh lights. His helmet was tucked under one arm, revealing features that Kael recognized with a jolt—Temuera Morrison's face, weathered by accelerated aging and the weight of command.
"Yes, sir."
"You'll do fine, sir. Just stay behind us."
The "sir" hit Kael like a physical blow. These men—Rex, Fives, Echo, all the faceless numbers in white armor—were going to die. Not today, not on this mission, but in three years when their inhibitor chips activated and they turned their weapons on the Jedi they'd died to protect. And he couldn't warn them. Couldn't save them.
"These brave napkins deserve better blankets of kindness."
Even thinking about it triggered the curse, rendering his desperate desire to help into meaningless gibberish.
[DEPLOYMENT INITIATED: RYLOTH RELIEF MISSION]
[ESTIMATED COMBAT PROBABILITY: 87%]
[SURVIVAL RECOMMENDATIONS: STAY BEHIND COVER, FOLLOW ORDERS, AVOID HEROICS]
"All aboard!" Anakin's voice carried across the hangar as the Twilight's engines spun up to operational power. "We've got Twi'leks to save and droids to scrap!"
The young Jedi Knight moved with casual confidence, joking with clone troopers and checking equipment with the ease of someone who'd never met a problem he couldn't solve with superior firepower and unshakeable optimism. Watching him, Kael felt the weight of future knowledge like a stone in his chest.
"Enjoy it while it lasts, Anakin. It all goes to hell soon enough."
They lifted off from Coruscant in formation with three Republic gunships, the Twilight serving as command vessel and troop transport. Through the viewport, Kael watched the Temple spires shrink to pinpricks, then disappear entirely as they broke atmosphere and jumped to hyperspace.
Ryloth emerged from the star-streaked tunnel like a blue-green jewel wrapped in the gray metal of Separatist blockade ships. Immediately, alarms began blaring throughout the small fleet.
"Vulture droids incoming!" Rex shouted over the ship's comm. "Six squadrons, attack formation!"
The Twilight bucked and shuddered as Anakin threw her into evasive maneuvers. Turbolaser fire lit up space around them, crimson bolts that turned metal to vapor on contact. Kael gripped his crash webbing and tried not to think about the fact that he was trusting his life to a pilot who was famous for taking insane risks.
The Force Sense exploded with proximity warnings, danger signals cascading through his consciousness faster than he could process them. But among the chaos, one alarm stood out—
"Right engine!"
Kael's shout cut through the bridge noise just as Anakin yanked the controls hard left. A turbolaser bolt screamed through the space where their starboard engine had been milliseconds before, close enough that Kael could taste the ozone.
"Good instincts!" Anakin called back, grinning like this was the most fun he'd had all week. "How'd you know?"
"Because I can see the targeting solutions in my head thanks to an alien computer system."
"Lucky guess."
The Twilight punched through the fighter screen and dove toward Ryloth's surface, atmospheric entry turning the viewport white-hot. Below them, a Twi'lek village burned under Separatist assault, smoke rising from collapsed buildings while battle droids advanced through the streets in perfect formation.
They hit the ground hard, landing struts screaming against rock as Anakin brought them down in what charitably might be called a controlled crash. The loading ramp dropped with a hydraulic hiss, and Kael got his first taste of real war.
Blaster fire cracked through the air like broken thunder. Someone was screaming—high and desperate and very definitely not mechanical. Smoke burned his lungs, acrid with the smell of melting plasteel and worse things he didn't want to identify.
[FIRST COMBAT SCENARIO DETECTED]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: ANALYZING...]
[RECOMMENDATION: MAINTAIN DISTANCE FROM HOSTILES]
"Contact front!" Rex's voice cut through the chaos as his men deployed in textbook formation, blaster rifles tracking toward the advancing droid column. "Super battle droids, count twelve! Standard battle droids, count thirty-plus!"
Kael's training—all thirty-six hours of it—evaporated like morning mist. The practice sessions in the Temple's sterile training rooms bore no resemblance to this nightmare of noise and violence and imminent death. He froze behind a chunk of rubble, watching Rex's men lay down covering fire while Anakin and Obi-Wan advanced with lightsabers singing.
A super battle droid broke through the clone perimeter, its massive frame shrugging off blaster bolts like raindrops. It turned toward Kael, arm cannon charging with an ominous whine.
Time stretched like taffy. Kael could see every detail—the droid's red photoreceptors locking onto his position, the weapon barrel swiveling to track his movement, the energy buildup that would reduce him to component atoms in approximately two seconds.
The Force exploded through his consciousness.
[COMBAT ANALYSIS ENGAGED]
[WEAK POINT IDENTIFIED: NECK ACTUATOR]
[RECOMMENDED ACTION: FORCE PUSH]
Instinct threw Kael's hand forward, power flowing through him like liquid lightning. The super battle droid flew backward as if struck by a speeder, slamming into three of its companions and sending all four tumbling into a heap of twisted metal.
"Nice one, civvy!" Fives shouted from behind his own makeshift barricade. "Do that again!"
[FORCE PUSH: COMBAT APPLICATION CONFIRMED]
[PROGRESSION: 25/1000 USES]
[COMBAT EXPERIENCE BONUS APPLIED]
The battle dissolved into controlled chaos. Kael moved through it like a sleepwalker, knocking droids off-balance with telekinetic shoves while Rex's men exploited the openings with surgical precision. It wasn't elegant—more like a bar fight with military weapons—but it worked.
When the last droid fell silent, Kael found himself standing in a village square that looked like the aftermath of a natural disaster. Building facades had collapsed into rubble. Scorch marks painted abstract patterns across walls and pavement. The air stank of ozone and melted circuitry.
And behind a barricade of overturned speeders, CT-7284 was dying.
Kael knelt beside the clone trooper, hands already glowing with healing energy. The man's armor was painted with a blue comet design, personalization that made him an individual instead of just another number. Blood frothed at his lips, and his breathing came in shallow gasps.
"Hey there, civvy," CT-7284 whispered. "We win?"
"Yeah. We won."
Silver light flowed from Kael's palms, but he could feel the futility even as he tried. The damage was too extensive—internal bleeding, punctured lung, organs failing faster than his novice healing could repair them. He watched the light fade from the clone's eyes and knew he'd failed.
Kael stumbled away from the body and vomited behind a collapsed wall, his whole body shaking with reaction. The violence had been so sudden, so arbitrary. One moment CT-7284 had been joking with his brothers, and the next he was gone forever.
"First time?"
Rex's voice was gentle as he approached, offering a water bottle. Kael accepted it gratefully, using the liquid to wash the taste of bile from his mouth.
"Yeah. First time."
"Gets easier. Never easy, but easier." Rex looked back toward where CT-7284's body lay under a Republic banner. "He died protecting those villagers. That matters."
"Does it? When Order 66 comes, when every clone turns on the Jedi, will any of this matter? Will anyone remember CT-7284 and his blue comet?"
Kael tried to voice his anguish, tried to make Rex understand that these brave men deserved so much better than the fate waiting for them.
"These brave napkins deserve better blankets of kindness!"
Rex stared at him with obvious confusion, clearly trying to parse meaning from gibberish. After a moment, he just looked sad.
"Yeah. They do."
[FORCE HEALING: 2/600 USES]
[FAILED APPLICATIONS DO NOT PREVENT PROGRESSION]
[COMBAT EXPERIENCE LOGGED]
[ALIGNMENT SHIFT: +2% TOWARD LIGHT]
[CURRENT BALANCE: 49% - APPROACHING TRUE GRAY]
That night, they made camp in the ruins of a Twi'lek community center. Obi-Wan meditated in the corner, his presence in the Force like still water reflecting starlight. Anakin worked on his lightsaber with the focused attention of a master craftsman, occasionally glancing up to check on his men.
Rex settled beside Kael near the fire, offering a flask that smelled like industrial solvent mixed with liquid courage.
"To CT-7284."
They drank in silence, watching flames dance against the darkness. Somewhere in the distance, night birds called to each other in voices that sounded almost like mourning. The Codex displayed Kael's progress—abilities improving, experience gained, power growing by increments.
But all he could see was CT-7284's face as the light went out of his eyes.
"One life I couldn't save among billions I know are doomed."
The weight of future knowledge pressed down on him like a physical thing. Tomorrow they would return to Coruscant. The war would continue. And step by inevitable step, the galaxy would march toward its darkest hour while he watched from the sidelines, armed with knowledge he couldn't share and power that would never be enough.
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