Chapter 86

Botajef Orbit, Botajef System

Belsmuth Sector

“Disable, not destroy,” Master Obi-Wan Kenobi commanded, “We’re not here as conquerors.”

If her Master’s words had any effect, Ahsoka Tano could not tell. The skies above Botajef were rife with thunder and fire, hundreds upon hundreds of warships exchanging death among the towering cables of Botajef’s skyhooks. Even the words of the highest Jedi Generals were drowned out by the jamming and chaos, and the only verbal confirmation the young Padawan could hear was those of the 2nd Airborne Company sharing the gunship with them.

Ahsoka closed her eyes tightly as the Bad Kitty swung around, narrowly dodging as a flurry of laserfire streaked past, close enough to make the starboard hatch glow with heat. Her hands were snapped onto the overhead handles, knuckles white as she fought to keep her balance as the LAAT gunship veered through the battlespace. The hatches were completely sealed, and the holding bay was a dimly lit locker filled with dozens of rocking bodies, bubbling with frantic anticipation.

“Check your seals, boys!” Clone Commander Cody barked, “Those ports open and you’re feeling a little chilly–you’re dead!”

Ahsoka has witnessed the ritual what felt like a million times before; the soft yet satisfying clicks and rustles of gear. Double-checking rifle charges, patting the extra ammunition and ordnance belts, calibrating jetpacks, stomping the deck with magboots, the murmur of chatter over cycling comm circuits. And most importantly of all, ensuring their vacsuits were sealed properly.

“You too, Ahsoka,” Master Obi-Wan instructed, not unkindly, putting on his own helmet, “We’re landing in a hotzone, and it’ll be a miracle if the skyhook’s atmospheric shields are functioning.”

Her Jedi Master was steady and composed as always, and she could count the number of times the Obi-Wan Kenobi seemed out of his depth on one hand. Even as their gunship weaved through the siege, Master Kenobi was relaxed, one hand braced against the hatch and the other casually resting on his lightsaber hilt. Compared to him, Ahsoka was a frenzied jumble of nerves. She had to admit it grated her no matter how many times she saw it–how could he be so calm when they were flying into this?

One day, I’ll be just like you. She swore to herself.

Ahsoka snapped her helmet into place, specially designed for her Togrutan features, hearing the hiss and click of the vac-seal and the buzz of the digital HUD springing to life. She gave it a shake for good measure, eyes taking in the data-laced display and counting all the transponder blips and ID codes stuffed into the cramped holding bay.

Bandomeer was a walk in the park compared to this.

The gunship swerved again. The bulkhead groaned with the shockwaves of turbolaser blasts, close and far; explosions bracketed the hatches; the whine of starfighter drives cutting through the void.

I hate space, I hate space, I hate space!

Whose idea was this in the first place, anyway?

Oh right, it was Master Plo Koon’s, the overall naval commander of the Expeditionary Fleet.

Unlike their current predicament, with the Force screaming in her ears around every corner, the Siege of Botajef started as all sieges do; with encirclement. Ahsoka recalled the expanse of the Expeditionary Fleet, hundreds of warships dedicated to the capture of Botajef whilst hundreds more were deployed throughout Serenno space to take the nearby sectors. She thought it would be another simple fight, with the headless Separatists folding before the week was over.

But Botajef was not Bandomeer.

Botajef was not a mining world past its prime; it was the premier shipyard world of the New Territories, once supplying the entire galaxy with countless civilian freighters and liners. These days, however, the only ships emerging from these hallowed docks were gun-bristling battlecruisers and destroyers. The entire world was like a sea urchin; a veritable forest of carbonite elevator cables rose 325-kilometres from planetside into orbit, tethering a vast lattice of hundreds of orbital berths and supply hubs and graving docks–collectively known as the Botajef Shipyards.

Master Plo Koon was adamant that to successfully execute a planetary invasion of Botajef, they’d first have to take the Botajef Shipyards. Master Mace Windu, the overall army commander of the Expeditionary Fleet, agreed.

“Kitty, this is Crumb Bomber,” Ahsoka overheard on the circuit, “Do you read?”

“Loud and clear, Bomber.”

“Jag’s vac-heads say the birds got kicked up over the dropzone!” Crumb Bomber’s pilot relayed, and Ahsoka’s stomach dropped, “Ro-Ti-Mundi’s moving in to clear out the nests but we gotta drop early to make it!”

“I hear you. You’ve got the point!”

“Copy. Tell your boys and we’ll start our runs ASAP!”

There was a hiss and crackle, and Crumb Bomber’s pilot dropped from the circuit–likely to inform the other gunships. The 2nd Airborne Battalion had six gunships in total, flying in line ahead like a sea snake weaving through the steel kelp.

“General Kenobi!” Bad Kitty’s pilot wasted no time.

“We heard you, Captain,” Master Obi-Wan’s voice was measured, but Ahsoka knew him well enough to identify the displeasure in his tone. He hated this as much as she did. “Get us there in one piece, and we’ll handle the rest.”

“Copy that, General!”

The Jedi General nodded sharply at Commander Cody, and the clone marshal immediately started barking out the brief.

“You heard the big man!” he snapped over the comms, “We aren’t making it to the landing zone, and it’s going to be a cold drop! So check your gear again! Mag-boots, jetpacks, grapples and tethers! I don’t want to see any of you knocked without your boots on the deck, is that understood!?”

“Yes, sir!”

The clone paratroopers chorused their affirmation, shuffling around as they obsessively checked their gear again, plastoid bodies rocking into each other over and over. Ahsoka swallowed thickly, unconsciously patting herself as well. Suits sealed tight… hopefully. Mag-boots? She clicked her heels and stomped, feeling herself latch to the deck. Lightsabers? She fondled her belt, grasping at her waist until she came across the two familiar cylinders.

Then she checked it all again.

I hate space.

“Heads up, boys,” the pilot announced over the comms, Bad Kitty’s drives purring louder than before, “We’re making the run!”

And I hate the run!

Also known as the gunship’s final approach, the ‘run’ was the most dangerous part of any landing. It was the moment of storming right into the enemy base, into their cordons of point-defense and swarms of snub wings, past the safety net of friendly cover. It was the moment where more troopers died helplessly than any other, the moment where the only thing you could do was sit tight, wait, feel each lurch and shudder, and hope you didn’t get vaporised the next second.

For Ahsoka Tano, it was pure torment. Trapped in the tight confines of the troop bay, she had no control over what’s happening outside. Her lightsabers, her training, her instincts–none of it mattered until the gunship’s hatches opened. Until then, she could only grip the overhead handles, feel the vibration of the engines beneath her boots, and pray that the pilot could outfly whatever the Separatists threw their way.

Hope you’re having a better time than I am, Scout. The young Padawan thought humorlessly. It has been so long since she has last been in contact with her friend, Ahsoka could only hope Scout was faring well–or at least, better than her. Probably not, though. Can’t imagine going up against the kriffing Tombmaker.

Ahsoka ultimately decided to count her lucky stars that she was here and not there.

“Standby for depressurisation!”

The LAATs hatch slits opened up, exposing the bay to the cold void of space, and suffocating, terrifying silence flooded into the crew bay. The only sound Ahsoka could hear was her own thumping heartbeats, even as the battle raged around them, her lekku twitching with nervous energy.

She peered through the slits, and her breath caught in her throat as the seemingly endless expanse of the siege unfolded before her.

Hundreds of ships filled the void, a swirling melee of capital ships and starfighters battling for their own dominance. Venator-class Star Destroyers traded volleys of turbolaser fire with Separatist battlecruisers, their shields glowing under the relentless exchanges. Starfighters darted between the larger vessels like schools of minnows, weaving through flak bursts and missile trails. The orbital shipyards themselves loomed ahead, enormous floating islands of durasteel tethered to the planet below by the massive elevator cables that stretched down to the surface.

Beneath them, a Venator–the Ro-Ti-Mundi–listed dangerously as a Providence’s batteries pounded against her hull, engines flickering as her starboard wing snagged with one of the elevator cables. The cable snapped taut, and the 2nd Airborne Battalion could only silently watch as the massive battlecruiser’s engines failed, pulling herself and the skyhook plummeting into the planet’s surface. For a moment, Ahsoka could only stare, wide-eyed, as the warship and the collapsing structure disappeared into the atmosphere in a fiery trail.

“Holy kriffing shit,” Ahsoka whispered, wincing as the sudden deaths of thousands rattled in her head. Almost every skyhook was the centre of their own local battles, as Republic and Separatist armies duelled for control over them.

And soon, the 2nd Airborne was coming up on their own target.

“Eyes up, Ahsoka!” Master Obi-Wan snapped, a rampant urgency coloured his tone, “Stay focused!”

“I’m looking!” she yelped, casting a wary glance through the hatch at the shipyard looming ahead, “I’m looking!”

The skeletal framework of the orbital facility bristled with turrets, each one spitting red-hot fire at the approaching Republic forces. Clone Captain Jag’s ARC-170 wings were already buzzing around it, busy keeping the Separatist starfighters off their backs. Those aren’t Vultures, Ahsoka thought, those are citizen starfighter designs.

The gunship lurched again, this time accompanied by a shrill alarm. There was a triplet of smoke trails shooting out from one of the shipyard’s missile launchers.

“Incoming!” the pilot barked, “Brace!”

Ahsoka felt her stomach flip as the gunship was kicked into a steep dive, skimming the edge of a drifting wreck that had once been a Recusant-class destroyer. She barely had time to register the flash of an explosion behind them as the Bad Kitty pulled into a tight bank, evading the missile by a hair’s breadth. Smoke blasted through the slits, sending a wave of heat rippling through the cabin–and sending them inside careening against the port hatch.

“That was way too close–” but even as she spoke those words, somewhere in the distance, she saw another LAAT gunship spinning out of control, its engines sheared away by a direct hit.

“Keep it steady, Captain!” Obi-Wan’s voice cut through her jumbled headspace, calm and commanding. He glanced back at Ahsoka, his expression unreadable but his presence steadying in the Force.

The Force. She closed her eyes for half a heartbeat, letting it flow through her, grounding her in the storm of chaos around her. When she opened them again, her hands were steady, her mind clear.

“Thirty seconds to drop zone, boys!” the pilot called back, “Hold on!”

Bad Kitty jolted again as a flurry of green plasma bolts streaked past, too close for comfort. The clones shifted their stances but didn’t flinch. The gunship burst through a thick cloud of debris, the shipyard now filling the viewports. Ahsoka stilled as she took in the scale of it: a sprawling maze of girders, docking bays, and weapon emplacements, all connected by a lattice of turbolift tracks and catwalks. Six Munificents were still berthed at their graving docks, the clamps stuck or disabled, though their blazing batteries were very much active and acting as stationary turrets.

Commander Cody’s voice cut through her helmet; “Jetpacks ready! Grapples primed! Keep your tethers tight–we’re not losing anyone out there!”

Ahsoka’s hands went to her belt, checking her grappling line one last time. Her twin lightsabers were a reassuring weight against her sides. She didn’t have to look to know her Master was doing the same.

“Remember the plan,” General Kenobi said, “We land, secure the landing, and hold it until army reinforcements arrive. Stay close, and keep your heads together!”

“Five seconds!”

The gunship slowed, the side hatches fully slammed open, and the vacuum tugged at her, her mag-boots the only thing keeping her anchored. She unclipped her lightsaber, her thumb hovering over the activation switch. The gunship began to slow, its maneuvering thrusters firing in rapid bursts as it aligned with the drop vector. Outside, the skyhook loomed closer, a maze of girders, platforms, and docking bays. Defensive batteries spat streams of fire at the incoming Republic forces, and the gunships responded–missiles rocketing down green particle beams.

“Go! Go! Go!”

“Move, move!” Commander Cody roared, and the troopers around erupted into action, leaping into the blackness one by one, jetpacks igniting in bursts of blue flame.

“Rendezvous on the skyhook!” then, with a single, fluid motion, Obi-Wan leapt from the gunship, his figure silhouetted against the fiery chaos of the battle. Before she even knew it, Ahsoka was following him a heartbeat later, the icy rush of space enveloping her as she launched herself into the fray.

The stillness of space wrapped around her like a straightjacket, and her body tensed instinctively–bracing for sensations that never came. There was no wind to bite at her skin, no air to carry sound, no gravity to pull her down. The war raged on all around her, deathly silent, as if she was watching a holofilm gone mute.

The vacuum seemed to pull at her awareness, amplifying the smallest movements of her body. Every twitch of her fingers, every shift of her limbs, sent her drifting in slow, exaggerated arcs. Her lekku tingled uncomfortably, a faint phantom pressure she couldn’t place. Her heartbeat was still the only thing she could hear, its rhythm an insistent reminder of her life where life should not exist.

For a moment, she felt untethered not just physically but mentally, a flicker of disorientation that made her stomach churn. Behind her, the gunship veered away, its weapons firing in a desperate bid to cover their descent.

“Ahsoka!” Master Obi-Wan shouted at her through the comms, “Focus!”

She clenched her jaw and reached for the Force, grounding herself in its reassuring presence. Her breath came slow and measured, her hands steady as she brought the grappling hook to bear. She aimed and fired. The grappling line shot forward, the anchor catching onto a jutting girder of the shipyard. The pull of the tether reeled her in, the sensation of controlled momentum replacing the weightless drift.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The shipyard loomed closer with every passing second, its massive trusses and platforms casting long shadows across the battlefield, too far and too near all at once. Her sense of scale warped, her eyes scrambled for purchase, her mind struggling to reconcile the massive structures with the lack of any ground to orient herself. How far out are we? She could only wonder–one klick, or one-hundred?

As she closed in on the platform, Ahsoka’s senses sharpened. She could feel the tension in the Force, a palpable warning of the danger ahead. The shipyard was alive with movement–battle droids and citizen soldiers scrambling into defensive positions, turrets swiveling to track the incoming Republic forces. The moment the first troopers slammed into the graving dock, Ahsoka braced for impact.

One, two, three–!

Her boots clamped down on the cold, unyielding metal of the deck, mag-boots whining to life and attaching her firmly, and the unsettling void finally released its grip on her. Within moments her lightsabers were blazing deadly neon arcs through the vacuum and parrying a barrage of crimson bolts that streaked toward her. Hundreds of clones were touching down, and dozens of walkers and tanks. From afar, Vigilance was laying down a thundering barrage to cover them from incoming Separatist warships, ARC-170 wings working overtime to maintain close-air support over the platform.

They surged forward, and Ahsoka moved instinctively, her sabers weaving a luminous shield that deflected the incoming fire. Each strike sent ricocheting bolts spiraling harmlessly into the void or into the metal plates of the deck. The Force guided her limbs, and she surrendered her body to it–out here, all it would take is one shot to tear through her vacsuit, one shot to kill. She gritted her teeth; and I’m not about to get shot.

She found brief refuge in the shadow of a lumbering AT-TE to regain her bearings, but didn;t linger for long–soon surging to join the vanguard. A Jedi Commander must be seen by their troopers! Clones poured out from their landing zones, forming staggered firing lines as they advanced under the cover of their walkers. AT-APs and TX-130 tanks roared into action, their blaster cannons laying down a suppressive fire that shattered row after row of battle droids.

“Enemy artillery sighted on the upper decks!” someone shouted in the comms.

“Calling in a suppressive bombardment! Standby!”

Ahsoka spun around just in time to see Vigilance’s massive main batteries flashing like stars, gargantuan bolts of energy the size of skyscrapers tearing into the skyhook’s defensive platforms. She didn’t have time to savour the sight–the Force screamed in an ear, and her lekku tingled with the premonition of danger. She hopped away just in time to dodge a high-powered bolt from above.

“Snipers!?” she shouted, angling her head up to see a squad of commando droids descending from the superstructure above, her warning punctuated by the distinctive snap of her sabers as she deflected a barrage of bolts aimed at the clones. “AT-APs, commando droids bearing down your port beam!”

“Copy that, Commander!”

The three-legged AT-APs pivoted their weight with an impressive agility for their size, bringing their huge cannons to bear and completely vaporising the section–with all signs of droids vanishing in the flashing fireball.

“Great shot!”

Ahsoka darted between cover and open ground, her lightsabers spinning in a deadly dance as she carved a path through the droid ranks. A squad of super battle droids lumbered into her path, their wrist cannons charging for a salvo. She leapt high, twisting in the zero gravity, her sabers cleaving two of them cleanly in half before her boots drew her back to the deck. The remaining droids exploded in a hail of blue blaster fire as the clones advanced behind her.

Her arms buzzed with adrenaline. This is it, she breathed heavily, eyeing the oxygen gauge on her HUD, this is what it’s all about. Not as good as fighting planetside, but solid ground was to die for. The roar of troopers on the comms, the tremors of the deck as massive walkers advanced, the thunder of distant artillery. This was where Ahsoka felt alive.

“Push forward!” General Kenobi’s voice boomed through the comms, “Secure the airlocks! We need access to the superstructure!”

Ahsoka nodded to herself, spotting the large durasteel structure in the distance, surrounded by barricades and teeming with droids. The Force whispered to her again, tugging her focus around.