Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Alice Bee and Christopher Levy.
22 years before the Battle of Yavin (13:4:26) in the Geonosis system: Geonosis.
Ty Anzion, Captain CL-1982, Anya Cledo, and Mace Windu.

The Low Altitude Assault Transport moved rapidly over the vast, red grounds of Geonosis. A war had begun; a war that would result in the fall of the once great Jedi. Padawan Anya Cledo could feel her breakfast sitting in her stomach like a gigantic boulder. She was packed into the small space inside of the LAAT that zoomed towards an event that would be life changing. Obi-Wan Kenobi had discovered a secret army which threatened the existence of the Republic thus causing the Republic to react appropriately. Anya should have considered herself lucky to be in the second wave of Jedi rushing to rescue Obi-Wan and attempt to crush this army at its doorstep. Her golden eyes gazed down at the armored feet of a Clone trooper beside her. Thoughts flooded her head. Was she ready for this? Had Master Alon Deo taught her appropriately for such a mission? She had no idea. Up until this moment, she trained in between gallivanting across the universe on special Jedi missions. Her life had been far from a cake walk, but it was the life she knew; the life she *understood*.

She recalled being a young Padawan. The tales of war that the elder Masters used to tell her were so enticing at that point. As she listened to the stories, an image was imprinted into her mind: she was a Jedi; a hero. It was up to her to protect everyone while accomplishing her goal. The twelve clones in her transport were *her* responsibility. It was something she took seriously.

"General, we're approaching the LZ," Hark, the co-pilot Clone, said to her.

"Thank you, Hark. Everyone else ready to go?" Her question was answered with a chorus us 'yes General'. How lucky they were, Anya thought to herself. They were built for this. The whole point of a Clone's life was to serve the Republic. She felt that there was differences dividing them when really none existed. They were just as nervous as she was.

Her head fell back down again. She began mindful of her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Her eyes shut. In. Out. It was like she was back in the Temple again. In. Out. The quick meditation session was therapeutic enough that her thoughts leveled. She was ready.

It was that exact moment that everything went terribly wrong.

CL-1982 stood in the rear compartment of an LAAT along with a platoon of Clone troopers. Brown eyes beneath the T-shaped visor of his helmet, which was inspired by Mandalorian design looked forward in the distance when suddenly one of the transports in formation with them exploded, having been hit by enemy ground fire. Just like that an entire platoon had been wiped out indiscriminately and he was aware if he had boarded a transport in a group earlier or later he could very well now be dead before even getting to fire a shot in the war. As a Clone Captain his armor featured insignia that made him stand out among the ubiquitous troopers that surrounded him, but it was his hope the battle droids could not yet distinguish the difference. "30 seconds!" he yelled from beneath his helmet to the platoon, who in one fluid motion had prepared their DC-15A blaster rifles. As the transport touched down a cloud of dust swirled around the craft, which he quickly exited as the first clone out. Almost immediately they came under fire, with a clone dropping immediately to his right. He raised his own rifle and began repeatedly pulling the trigger, unleashing deadly bolts of blue energy into the dust storm from the direction the droids were firing. "Move forward," he ordered, as he attempted to use the comlink inside his helmet to determine if any of the three other platoons under his command had landed safely. He had no idea if the Commander or Jedi General had touched down safely, and during the trip from Kamino they had not even been properly briefed on which Jedi was their General. There was a terrific explosion on the horizon as the transport had launched its rockets after dropping them off, eliminating some of the heavy Separatist forces beyond the field of view. What a way to enter a war.

Where once was calm serenity, chaos erupted. Anya opened her eyes when the transport was suddenly hit hard. The entire LAAT shook. A million sirens were ringing all around them. She could hear Hark yelling that they'd taken a significant amount of damage. "We need to land immediately!" She heard herself saying in her best brave voice. Uneasiness filled the transport. It lasted for the span of three breaths before they were hit a second time. This time, the transport was ripped in two. There was no time to react. Anya could remember feeling wind rapidly rushing all around her. She could feel the coldness of the metal wall as she clung to it for dear life. There was nothing after that. Nothing at all.

Her eyes opened to stinging and pain all throughout her body. She blinked blood away from her eyes that drooled from a wound on her forehead. There were Clone bodies all around her, including Commander Grey, who she had only just been introduced to. Death lay all around her. It littered the ground with pieces of the LAAT and body parts of her comrades. She, herself, was trapped beneath a piece of the nose of her craft. The pain grew so severe that she let out a pathetic cry. Still, the battle was raging on all around her. She could hear the fire of blasters. She could see Separatist droids already making their way to the wreckage. At a moment of absolute weakness, she forced herself to be strong.

Anya opened her hands. Using the Force, she shoved the piece off of her legs. Her hands ran over her pants. She could sense there was no saving her Clones. She needed to ensure their lives weren't forgotten right then and there. Her hands gripped her pants. She focused hard. Slowly, white flames sunk into her body. She had no doubt that both of her legs were injury that would kill her out here on the battlefield. She had but one choice; to heal herself. Master Alon Deo had not taught her how to handle injuries of this magnitude. Anya worried that she would exhaust herself during the process, yet she did it anyway. The rapid healing would be a patch. She could do a more extensive healing in a bacta tank. The droids were closing in. She could feel them all around her.

Chaotic reports were blaring over the comlink in his helmet. One such report indicated that the General's transport was down and that she and the Commander were both dead. He shook his head beneath his helmet, aggravated by the apparent loss of half the company in the first wave. Around him the platoon he was attached to was beginning to advance, with light casualties after the initial hit. "Lieutenant, until we receive new orders we shall continue to advance along this line. Is that understood?" he ordered the platoon commander, as he moved backwards to try and make sense of the comm chatter. "New orders. We need to get to the General's crash site," he ordered, as he looked at an holographic overlay of the map. Using it as a reference he began to move forward towards the wreckage, but from what he could see through the swirling cloud of dust and flame there was not much in the way of the movement. "Double time," he ordered the platoon as he began to sprint towards the crash site. "Make use of the wreckage as cover. Check for survivors," he ordered, as he began moving through the debris. There was the unmistakable sight of the commander, who had indeed perished. But as he moved his head up he could see the fallen body of their Jedi General who was still alive. "Two men with me. Get the General clear," he ordered, as he moved nearer her. "We're here to get you out of here, General," he informed her in a clear, commanding tone. But just then a B2 battle droid arrived unleashing a wave of fire that took out one of the troopers assisting him. He grunted underneath his helmet as he began exchanging fire with the droid with his right hand, while attempting to drag Anya back behind some shuttle wreckage with the other.

The feeling of bones mending at an excelled speed was incredibly painful. She gritted her teeth so hard she thought they might shatter. Anya wasn't ready to die...not here, not like this. She fully intended to help her fellow Jedi in destroying the Separatist army. The healing process was nearly over when something unexpected happened; she saw the relieving flash of white armor as several troopers moved towards her. Her mouth fell opened, amazed that anyone had come to the crash site following such a violent explosion. By all accounts, she should have been dead. She had no idea how she wasn't. She could walk again when the Clone, who she recognized as a Captain by the markings on his armor, found her. "Boy, am I glad to see you..." She said to him. She took his help in standing upright again. It was then that she spotted the B2 battle droid. The Super began shooting at them. Suddenly, she was a sack of dead weight for the Captain.

She broke free of him, grabbing her lightsaber at her hip. She ignited it, now standing between the Clone Captain and the Super. Anya deflected the blaster fire backwards to the droid until she clipped it in the right arm. Functions ceased in that arm and the droid dropped his weapon. She took the opening as chance to charge forward, slashing her sword through the droid's midsection. The young Pantoran brought a hand to her forehead. She could feel the wetness of the blood. The crash had messed her up. However, right now, she needed to fight.

She turned back to the man. "Captain, we have to keep moving forward. I will not abandon your brothers, nor will I abandon my own." Everything about her was disheveled. Her pastel pink hair, which was braided behind her back, was now stained with blood. She wore a look of determination that said he was going to have to carry her away from the battle if he wanted to get her out. No sooner had she spoke did she turn her back on him to beat away a group of B1 droids which encroached on the crash site.

"General you should return to the forward command center for medical assistance," Captain CL-1982 suggested, once the immediate threat of the B2 battle droid had been vanquished. Before he could say another word artillery had succeeded in destroying the central section of a Lucrehulk-class battleship, which crashed into the surface of Geonosis and caused a massive wave of dust and debris to head their way. "Oh this isn't going to be good," he complained, before he threw his armored body on top of the Jedi General to shroud her from the onrushing calamity. A moment later they were covered in darkness as the cloud moved past them, his once polished white armor now pot marked by debris and soiled. "Are you alright, General?" he asked, as the storm abated and they could once again see. Fresh troops were beginning to move forward towards their location as waves of reinforcements were beginning to land and swarm the battlefield. Over the comm there were confused reports about Count Dooku attempting to retreat and an effort to stop him. While their own position was in jeopardy the tide seemed to be turning in the Republic's favor at least for now.

The argument that she should stay was on the very tip of Anya's tongue. Her persistent nature prepared to rear its head when she saw the battleship crashing down into the surface. A gigantic red dustball followed. "Captain, remind me to invest in a helmet if we survive this." He was on top of her after that. Anya knew that it was his job to protect her. It contradicted her strong-will to protect *him* and his brothers. She had no choice but to lie beneath him with her eyes shut, hands over them, praying that they wouldn't be shot to pieces as the cloud moved over them. Her clothing was covered. Though her mouth had been closed, she could taste the dust. She could feel it in every open gash on her body, stinging like the sun. "I'm fine." She reassured him. "Thank you."

Her eyes were nearly useless while the dirt settled. She could sense everything going on around them. Her lightsaber blade suddenly cut through the dust. "What's going on?" She asked him. "My comm broke in the crash." She showed him her wrist comm which was not shattered and embedded with dirt. No sooner had she showed him was she back on her toes. Incoming blaster fire drew her away from him. Apparently their B2 friend had buddies, buddies which Anya quickly disposed of to keep them away from the surviving clones. "We need to group with our other men." She decided. It was in her best interest that this battle didn't last forever. Anya had used a massive amount of power to replenish her legs. She decided that wasn't need-to-know information for her Captain.

CL-1982 took the General literally and moved towards the body of one of the fallen clones. He unceremoniously pulled the helmet off the corpse, pausing momentarily at the sight he uncovered. The dead face was that of his own and it sent an unpleasant chill down his spine. It was a sight he was going to have to get used to as he would see it many thousands of times over the war. A moment later he turned and roughly plopped the helmet down on top of her head. "There you are, General," he said, as if he had just completed his orders. "There are confused reports on the comm, Ma'am," he continued, as he raised his hand to give orders to the platoon to rally at their position. "My company has lost half its strength. No word on how their Corps as a whole fared," he reported, without much emotion as it had been removed during training. It was all still too raw and fresh for him to mourn. "There are reports the Separatist leaders are retreating," he said, as an explosion went off no more than six meters from them. "Droids didn't get the message though," he said, perhaps not just being a Captain, but captain obvious.

The Captain swept her away. He took her toward the lifeless body of one of the Clones from her transport. Anya could feel her heart beginning to beat quicker. She could feel the wind rushing into her ears again during a traumatic descent to the surface. Beneath his helmet, there was a face she recognized yet it was the face of an absolute stranger as well. It pulled at her heartstrings. She looked at the Captain whose face was hidden in a helmet. She had no idea if he was having an emotional response to seeing his own dead face. Her deep thought was broken up as he placed the helmet on her head. "Umm.. Thank you.." Well, he'd checked something off of her to-do list despite how morbid it was.

Anya remembered that she was not the only Jedi on Geonosis. She wondered how everyone else was faring against the droids and the native enemy; the Geonosians. His report was depressing. At the drop of a hat, they had already lost *half* of the company. Her attention snapped away from him to the explosion. Underneath her helmet, she raised her eyebrow.

Sensing something out of the ordinary, she glanced up into the sky. She could see a Punworcca 116-class interstellar sloop rapidly escaping Geonosis. The feel of a Sith lord was very unique. Right at that moment, she knew he had escaped. "We won't be able to end this here." She said, pointing towards the craft. "The leader is right there getting away from us." Though the First Battle of Geonosis would be considered a Republic victory, for Anya it was anything but. She lingered close to what remained of their strength. "Does anyone else need medical attention?" She asked him.

Before Captain CL-1982 could reply to the General's query a sound that would soon become all too familiar to them grew louder through the dust storm. *Clank*, *clank, *clank* continued unabated, prompting him to turn his attention away from his superior and look towards the sound. Suddenly a torrent of red blaster fire emerged, dropping several of his troopers before they began returning fire from their own blaster rifles. It was a swarm of the lesser B1 battle droids being thrown into the breach in a pawn sacrifice to buy the separatist council time to escape and continue the wall. "Use the wreckage," he instructed, as the men took up positions behind the crashed LAAT speeder and began returning fire against the droids. "This is Convor Company, 223rd Corps. Experiencing heavy droid opposition," he reported over the comm to the forward command center. "Just you, General," he finally replied to her question, noting the injuries she had sustained. He remained by her side, directing the troopers, who were gradually being whittled down by the sheer number of the battle droids despite their inferiority and older design.

Just when things looked darkest there was a sudden roar as a second wave of Clone troopers entered the fray and joined with Convor Company to overwhelm the encroaching B1 battle of the droids. In their midst was the unmistakable sight and sound of a blue lightsaber wielded by the Jedi Knight and General Ty Anzion, who spun through a trio of battle droids, cutting them each in the midsection. The Esselian Jedi Knight had been assigned to the Jedi Temple when the call to arms by the Council had been issued quite unexpectedly. He now found himself on this inhospitable Outer Rim world, his robes tattered and soiled from the experience, with many of his own clones already fallen as well. The initial attack had been poorly coordinated and he had already been separated from his superior, Shaak Ti. As the fray began to calm down, he gave the briefest of nods to Anya before checking on the status of his own troops with the Lieutenant beside him.

They were coming. The tension rose in the air. Thanks to the visor in her helmet, she could detect the droids moving towards them while her eyes still remained useless. The sheer number of droids was overwhelming. It was a lesson Anya quickly learned about battle droids. In small numbers, they were ineffective against a Jedi. In greater numbers, they would kill people she had known all her life. She gripped her lightsaber. Taking on a defensive stance behind the wreckage, she did what she could to deflect bolts back at the droids. She popped several off immediately, but there was still so many. Her eyes rolled in her helmet. It was good she was the only one who had sustained injuries. She felt like she could keep going on for a long while yet before the pain captured the better side of her. Unfortunately, right now, they were trapped.

When all was dark and gloomy, a relieving sound echoed across the lands. A second wave of Clones had arrived. They swept in, along with Jedi Knight Anzion, who she recalled being introduced to just once before. She left the safety of the wreckage to aid in pushing back the droids. Silent, Anya offered him a nod. Behind her helmet, she could feel the sweat and blood rolling down her face. She wished she had a moment to meditate and level herself once more, but time wasn't in their favor right now. "Knight Anzion, is your Master well?" She asked him. Shaak Ti was a kind Togruta. When she and her Master toured Kamino following the discovery of the Clones, it was Shaak Ti who walked with them and reviewed her plans for their continued training.

Ty let out a deep breath of air as he steadied himself. All around him he could feel the energy of the living force and the pain that his fellow Jedi were suffering on this darkest of days. "Anya, it is good to see you have survived," he said, followed by a respectful nod of his head. He disengaged the blade of his lightsaber and clipped it back to his belt for the first time that day, content in the fact that the immediate threat had been eliminated. "Lieutenant, set up a perimeter and deploy forward so that do not get the drop on us again," he ordered to the clone trooper beside him, before giving his full attention to the young Pantoran Jedi Knight. "I fear I do not now what has become of Master Shaak Ti," he said, as he attempted to sense her presence, but the emotions of pain and even anger that were emanating from this world clouded his senses. "You are the first I have seen," he said, having hoped she might have more information, but it seemed she was as confused as he was. War bred chaos.

CL-1982 did not permit the conversation with the newly arrived Jedi Knight to proceed further. He had a responsibility to see to the safety of his General and at the moment he believed she was in danger given the severity of her wounds. "General, I *must* insist you return to the forward command center to receive medical treatment," he said, as he placed the stock of his DC-15a blaster rifle against the ground. "General Anzion and his troops can see to this position. You have done your part. My reports will bare that out," he explained to her, and was fully prepared to carry her over his shoulder to the command center if need be. Between the loss of two LAATs and clashes with battle droids they were barely at 40% strength. By his estimation they were in danger of becoming no longer combat effective, particularly if their Jedi fell.

It was good to see a familiar face. She had not seen any other Jedis since departing from Coruscant. Her Master had already been pushing her towards knighthood and believed she was prepared to lead without him. They separated, never knowing if they would see one another alive again. "I'm sorry to hear her fate is unclear. Master Shaak Ti is a powerful Jedi. I'm sure we will meet with her again soon." Anya attempted to reassure him. Feeling the persistent sting from her forehead, she reached up and removed her helmet. Her pink hair was even messier than it had been before. Her golden eyes reflected how tired she was. If the landing hadn't gone so badly, she'd be fine.

The Captain hadn't forgotten about her little fall from the skies either. She looked at him. Part of her wanted to continue to deny any sort of medical attention. The other, more mature, side of her knew that if she died on the battlefield, she wouldn't be able to protect anyone anymore. With a sigh, she nodded her head. "You're right, Captain. I'll come with you." She turned to Ty. "Good luck, Ty. My LAAT was hit on the way in. I did what I could to lessen my brunt of my injuries, but it wasn't enough. I leave this to you." She slowly turned away from him. Adrenaline had begun to dissipate in her head. With its exodus, a new pain rose. Placing her helmet back on her head, she wrapped an arm around CL-1982's neck. "Damn clankers.." She grumbled. At the moment, she needed him to be her support.

"Medevac requested at grid coordinates 84, 12," CL-1982 requested over the comm, but after a few moments of static he received a negative response. Too many of the transports had been damaged or destroyed. "You'll never make it on foot, General," he said, having taken clear note f the severity of her head wound. A moment later he took hold of her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Remembering his training and utilizing his conditioning he began to double time it on foot towards the forward command center. Fortunately she was light and he did not expect much difficulty in the journey. The remnants of the two platoons that had survived began to move with them, providing security and clearing any enemies that might lay between them and the command center. "We'll be there in no time, General. Hang on," he encouraged her, as the climate control of the armor managed to keep him from feeling too hot as his heart raced from the endurance run he unexpectedly found himself on.

There were objections...*major* objections she had to CL-1982 carrying her. Before she could make any of these claims, he'd snatched her off the ground in a fireman's carry. Her arms draped down his back. Her body pressed into his dusty, once white armor, leaving behind crimson red. Suddenly, she was nothing more than a sack of body weight on the Clone's back. Her eyes closed while he carried her towards safety. She focused on everything going on around them; everything that she could see that he couldn't. "On your left!" She yelled, directing his attention to a group of four battle droids. She reached to her hip, grabbed her lightsaber and igniting it. She used it to block blaster fire from his back and into the group. After all he had done for her...and was doing for her...she had his back in the most complete, devout way. "Um, Captain... We have a problem." From their right, a large OG-9 homing spider droid crept closer and closer to them. It shot into the ground, creating deep craters which Geonosians rose out from. "You're gonna have to let me go." She said, now using the Force to create a barrier around not just her and CL-1982, but the remains of their platoons.

"No objection, General," CL-1982 announced as he unceremoniously dropped her from her shoulder as if she was a duffle bag loaded with unwashed clothing. "We got a problem here," he stated, once again in the role of captain obvious, as the Geonosians began to overwhelm the members of the platoon who were on point. "Command. We're cut off," he announced over the comlink, as he began carefully targeting each Geonosian. One by one he shot them out of the air with well aimed blaster shots from his DC-15a. "There's too many," he said, as one flew near them, grabbing one of the clones and lifted him in the sky. There was a scream as the trooper was let go, dropped into a hole in the surface of the planet down to who knew where. The clones formers a circular perimeter around the Jedi General, which was gradually constricting as their numbers diminished.

Suddenly there was a massive barrage of friendly fire in the form of blue blaster bolts as a commando unit arrived on the scene in the nick of time. Behind them was the ignited purple blade that heralded the arrival of their commander, the venerable Jedi Master and Council member from Haruun Kal, Mace Windu. He moved faster than the other Jedi, skillfully vivisecting each of the Geonosians that came within its range. A moment later he used his innate telekinetic ability to send his lightsaber at the emitter on the OG-9 homing spider droid, which resulted in a large flash of electricity throughout it before it crashed to the ground. Just as quickly his lightsaber was returned to him and he nonchalantly began to move toward Anya and her clones. "Well don't just stand there. Get her to medical," he said to CL-1982 in an effort to calm her. He reached out for a moment to place his hand upon her in an attempt to steady her and ease her pain. He sensed she would be fine, but there were others who would not be that needed his pressing attention.

Back on her own feet, Anya could see her Force shield faltering already. Healing herself had been necessary, but left her feeling incredibly weak. She joined in with the Clones, rapidly working to take out as many Geonosians as she could. It seemed like more of the creatures came up through the hole in the ground. It was never ending. Clones were dying. It seemed like all hope would be lost just as her Force barrier fell. "Shit!" She prepared to fight to the end. It was then that luck struck for the second time. The visible purple blade in the distance told her that they were saved. Master Windu had arrived. She was dumbfounded while she watched him quickly dispose of the Geonosians. He even eliminated the homing spider droid which threatened to blow them all up just moments ago. Her racing heart began to slow. It was over. For her, the First Battle of Geonosis had ended. "Thank you, Master." She could have cried. They had been so close to dying.

His hand brought about a feeling of contentment. She knew she would be okay when she was properly looked at. Once again, she surrendered her freedoms to her Captain, allowing him to carry her towards the place she needed to be. She tried to continue reaching out and watching for their enemies, but she found that her eyes could no longer stay open. Her limbs went limp on the trooper. She'd given into the pain and lossage of blood, finally passing out. Only the pain of death surrounded her. She couldn't even feel CL-1982's presence once she was gone. In her head, she began to relive the crash over and over again.

"Language, General. Remember, by human years I'm still a child," CL-1982 informed her, before once again hoisting her over his shoulder and continuing towards the forward command center. He was impressed with the alacrity the Jedi Master had displayed in dispatching the Geonosians and the massive droid. At long last they arrived at the forward command center, but on first glance it did not look as if they would get speedy help. There were hundreds of wounded clones strewn about along with a number of Jedi wounded, dying, or already dead. For a victory it certainly looked as if they had suffered a defeat this day. By now there were reports that the last of the droids were being mopped up and the Geonosians had retreated into their underground caverns, but no one here was in any condition to celebrate. "Medic!" he called out, but no one reacted. Believing he was going to have to do *everything* himself at this point he carried her over towards a cot next to the fallen body of a dead Jedi without much thought. "Wait here, General," he said before moving off to find a medical droid. When he found one he pulled his blaster pistol and marched the droid back towards Anya at blaster point. There would be no wait this day.

For a short time, Anya was out. She remained a useless lump on CL-1982's shoulder. She could hear someone calling 'Medic' over her head. The word awoke her. She began tumbling back to reality. "Mm..." She didn't feel any better than when she had passed out. Her vision was blurred until he had laid her down in the cot. She could hear the moans of injured soldiers all around them. Her head turned to one side. She was shocked to see another familiar face of a Jedi Knight who was dead. She felt fear toying with her head. "C..Ca..Ca.." She started but couldn't finish. It was then that CL-1982 appeared with a medical droid held at blaster point. Weakly, she ripped the helmet off of her shoulder. "You crazy bastar- *man*. You crazy man." She edited herself, recalling that he was what, ten years old?

She looked at the droid, batting it away as it prepared to scan her. "I already know what's wrong." She grumbled, then she promptly listed off every injury she had sustained in the crash. Her Force healing also gave her the ability to tell the exact extent of her injures. After that, she laid back and let the droid work. She kept her eyes closed to avoid seeing the Jedi again. Sometime later, she heard the droid recommending she be brought back to the capital ship immediately. Anya didn't feel good. She wasn't ready to call this her end.

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