Star Wars: the Clone Wars -


Slavers


Thirty minutes ago the streets were plagued with gunfire and explosions and verbal cursing, but now - as Anakin strolled down the street, his lit saber at his guard, with three of the strangers - it was quiet, both suspiciously and disturbingly quiet. Puzzled, he glanced over to Sergeant Wilson and the legionnaires, and looked back down the frayed street, confused of where this sudden absence of hostile gangsters came from.

It seemed likely they've given up and retreated, that would be the first common suggestion anyone would point out, but anyone smart would come to a better, more thought out idea - they were hiding, hiding and waiting to strike at the least suspecting second.

"Okay, it got too quiet too fast," one of Wilson's marines said, the male human, "where the hell'd they go?"

"Adams, Shut it and keep your eyes open," the Sergeant said, "they're probably waiting to bring out the big guns. They've got their hands on a grenade launcher, I don't even wanna know what else they've got."

"You're quite serious on the battle field for a mercenary, Sergeant Wilson," Anakin told him.

"Shouldn't you be, Jedi?" He shot back, "The situation where a bunch of crazies got their hands on dangerous, automatic firearms and are practically using them out in public isn't something to get cozy from. People are at stake."

As the four of them slowly and cautious meandered down the street, neither of them suspected the small group of snipers looming on a high point, observing them as they began to set up a sniper rifle system. Resting its bipod on the railing and adjusting the scope, the sniper man positioned the weapon's butt to his shoulder and carefully took aim.

"First off; it's not 'Jedi', it's Skywalker - Anakin Skywalker. Second; why do you even care for this gang war, Wilson?" Anakin asked, "Why do you care about all these innocent people and the Republic?"

"We only care for the innocents, we made it our goal to protect them, any time and any where we can. We didn't show up to back you up in this gang war, we only showed up to end it, because clearly the Republic can't do a damn thing for itself."

"Well, you're doing a noble thing of at least helping out the peacekeepers clear Warhawks off the street."

"Yeah, but too bad. Because we're not helping 'peacekeepers', we're saving Jedi' asses from getting blown to bits of shit," Wilson snapped, "don't go speaking of you and your little church being the 'source of peace,' because you people were involved in more battles and wars than you were in peace meetings. Clear?"

Anakin gave him a long, sceptical look, perhaps his remark to the Jedi Order might seem a little uncalled for and out of line, but after giving it a quick thought, Wilson might be right. Sure enough, during the Clone Wars, the Order had been operating like a military, sending young Jedi into battles even before they are knighted - much like his Padawan Ahsoka, and having weapons being manufactured and constructed. Heck, even hewould agree with this merc, but regardless, he thought he was doing the right thing, even if it wasn't the "peaceful" method.

Without warning, a bird swiftly flew by the group, and the woman - the Arkanian - traced its flight and glanced up to the other direction, up on the balcony, where a group of snipers resided. In a flash, she swiftly loaded an arrow onto her old-fashioned bow, took quick and precise aim, and released.

The arrow raced through the air and ran right through the sniper's head, right between the eyes, as he slumped on the railing, the sniper rifle falling to the ground. As the sound of the firearm hitting the pavement caught their attention, Wilson pointed and Adams followed his finger, lifted his M16 assault rifle, and fired its M203 under-barrel grenade launcher. The small projectile flew up to the balcony and exploded, sending the gangsters soaring out of their hiding spot.

As soon as they hit the street, the Merc-Sergeant glanced to the Arkanian, "Good call, Kay." He congratulated, as she simply nodded, her facial expression not changing by a twitch.

"How'd you see that coming?" Anakin asked, watching as the bird lowered and landed upon her outstretched finger.

"The little bird told me," she replied, her voice soft and clear. The bird flew off at the sign of upcoming trouble precisely as she turned her attention to that of behind him.

He spun around, finding Captain Rex and the rest of his platoon - Ahsoka's platoon. "Rex? What are you doing here, where's Ahsoka?"

"She stayed behind, General," he answered, "to take care of the line of fire."

"By herself?"

"It was on her orders, sir. She told us to break off and assist you." He began, "I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't worry about it Rex, you're just following orders. It's Ahsoka I'm more worried about," Anakin said, lifting up his wrist to tap his com link. "Ahsoka, can you hear me?"

No reply came, only the sound of static could be heard. Blast, he thought, the explosion must have had a more serious effect than he anticipated, communications with Obi-Wan had been interrupted, and now he guessed he couldn't contact anyone.

"I can't get a signal," he admitted, "we need to go check on her..."

"Hold on, Walker," the Merc-Sergeant stopped him before he could make another step, tapping his own com link. "Jenkins, you hear me? I want a report."

"Roger sir, the Warhawks are starting to back off. Pierce and I have them on the run, we're pushing them towards their current stronghold."

"What about Boomer?"

"He stayed behind to help a downed Jedi with a wounded knee, he called the ship to the surface for further aid. You want us to retreat and get him."

"No," Wilson refused, "Boomer can handle this one solo, the Jedi's in good hands. Continue pursuing the gangsters back to their lair, we'll be meeting up with you momentarily."

"Roger, moving out." And the wrist comm. switched off.

The Merc-Sergeant turned his attention back to Anakin, "Don't worry about thing, Jedi. Your friend's in Boomer's care, you can trust him."

"Uh... thanks," he replied, turning away from the mercenary, back to Rex and the platoon. "Captain Rex, status report. You all ready to go?"

"Affirmative sir," the clone replied, glancing curiously at Wilson and the other two strangers, "uh... who are these guys?"

"Soldiers of fortune, local mercenaries, haven't exactly gotten an actually name on them. I'll get to them about it later, for now let's just say they're on our side." Anakin suggested, "Now, I repeat, are you all ready to go?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Wilson," he turned, "Are you-?" He stopped, watching as the Merc-Sergeant and his own group continued down the street, leaving them behind.


Closing in on the Warhawks' Coruscant base of operations, a black market armory, Obi-Wan, Cody and a handful of clone troopers followed the two merc legionnaires, Fitz and Patterson, to the back entrance, where they encountered three awaiting and armed Weequays, blocking their way.

"Hey!" The first Weequay pointed, and the other two joined him in a line of fire. He quickly grabbed the Commander and leaped into cover, same as the mercs, while only a few clones didn't get out of the way in time, and were shot down.

Behind bunker, Obi-Wan kept his head low as the small explosions of blasterfire over head, it almost made him go deaf. "Cody," he called to the Commander, whom wore a support strap for his broken arm, "we need to regroup with our other six troopers and rush them. We'll have to hurry."

"Why? Ah'm pretty sure they can't get us whiles we behind cover," commented Fitz, just as a blast flew over head and pierced his brim hat off his head. It landed on the ground with a hole right through its cranium, but fortunately it didn't kill him - although it didn't mean he wasn't disappointed of what happened. "Ah man! That was muh favorite hat!"

"Relax, I'm sure you've gotta spare someone back on the ship," Patterson told him, and then turned to Obi-Wan, "Do you really think running out at them is gonna work? We'll probably get show down if we as much stand up."

"I know what I'm doing, Miss Patterson," he replied. He stopped as he heard the sound of a screaming, as if someone was in pain. They all peeked up to find a Weequay, his right wrist was missing, blown completely off.

They watched as a lance flew out of nowhere and pieced a second adversary to the wall, his body went instantly limp, and the two remaining spun around to find a man - a Mandalorian - standing before them. The still armed Warhawk tried to raise his gun but was stopped in a minute as a vibrowhip snatched around his throat, a weapon held by the Mando, and with a good yank the alien's head was ripped right off his shoulders.

With only the disarmed Weequay left, whom was now backing up, the Mandalorian killer withdrew his whip and marched towards him, vibroblades extracting from his wrists. The Warhawk run out of sight behind the building with the assailant following him, and only their shadows from the other side were seen as they all watched a display of one figure picked up by the other, lifted in the air, stabbed, and to a slight nausea feeling, the assailant ripped off the man's head, dropping the remains to the ground.

"That was... interesting," Obi-Wan commented, feeling slightly sick to his stomach as he watched Mando's shadow disappear. Never had he seen such a kill so brutal.

"Naw, that was Fray, toughest guy you'll ever - you don't wanna mess with him," Fitz told him, leaping out from behind the bunker and headed to the door. He fiddled with the knob but it didn't budge to any avail. "Dang it! Door's locked. Now what?"

"Relax Fitz," Patterson began, "I've got an idea... can I see your launcher?"


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