**Chapter 434**
**Scene 1**
**Erictia POV**
**Approaching Rhovari, Ryloth**
Erictia gripped the overhead handhold tightly as the Raven gunship banked sharply. Through the open side door, the arid landscape of Ryloth blurred past in shades of orange and red. She had been taught at the Temple that battle melds were rare techniques — difficult to master and usually limited to small groups of Jedi who shared deep trust and connection.
She had never imagined anyone could extend one across an entire invasion force… or right now, across a full legion operating with such terrifying coordination.
She glanced at the Alpha-class ARC trooper beside her. Devil's beskar armor made him look like a walking shadow, jetpack and weapons systems primed.
"Uhm… do you clones feel any different when the General uses his meld?" she asked.
Devil tilted his helmet slightly. "Battle meld?"
Horizon, another ARC trooper across from them, chuckled. "She means the General's battle help, Devil. When he links us."
"Oh." Devil nodded. "Yeah. It's like… you suddenly have full spatial awareness. You can predict enemy movements half a second before they happen. You just *know* where to step, when to duck, where to shoot. It's not like we're puppets — we're still us. But everything gets clearer. Sharper."
"See?" Horizon added with pride. "The General only uses it for short bursts though, because it drains him hard. After that, we hold our own for the Republic."
Erictia stared at the two elite clones, awed. "That's… incredible."
"All troops," the pilot announced over the internal comm, "we are preparing to land. Ready your weapons and stand down, boys. We're entering a friendly drop zone."
The gunships began their descent in perfect formation, almost dancing through the air as if guided by a single mind.
**Scene 2**
**Dagon POV**
**Outside Rhovari**
Rhovari — a major city west of Lessu — had been turned into a fortress. The CIS was clearly desperate. I remembered that both the future Empire and the Separatists coveted Ryloth for its vast doonium reserves. So far, we had already destroyed three CIS transports loaded with stolen Twi'lek treasures and enslaved civilians. There were likely more.
This was day six of the Ryloth campaign. It was progressing far faster than it would have under Obi-Wan or Anakin's solo command. Thankfully, both had accepted staying in orbit to coordinate the broader theater.
I stood atop an AT-AT walker, surveying the city through macrobinoculars. Rhovari sat on a flat hexagonal plain rather than a mountain like Lessu. The Separatists had fortified it heavily: nearly 100 AAT tanks, dozens of Octuptarra droids, scattered AA batteries, and what I estimated to be over 200,000 droids. Possibly more. Groups of Twi'lek civilians had been rounded up near the central generator and deflector shield.
*How thoughtful of them to give the city a shield,* I thought bitterly.
Puck approached along the walker's command deck. "What's our plan of attack, General?"
I lowered the macrobinoculars. "We have 50 ARC troopers, one Alpha-class, 2,500 clone troopers, 1,500 marines, 800 clone assassin-modified melee specialists, 10 AT-ATs, 70 treadspeeder bikes, 20 2-M repulsor tanks, and 40 Raven gunships. All troops equipped with modified jetpacks, beskar armor, repulsor boots, and wrist rocket launchers."
I studied the city's defenses again. "The city already looks worse for wear. We wait until tonight. I'll send the signal."
"Yes, sir."
**Scene 3**
**Rhovari – Command Center**
**Bogon Vos POV**
Bogon Vos stood on the elevated command platform overlooking the fortified city of Rhovari. He had been positioned here personally by Count Dooku and Wat Tambor to evaluate Dooku's newest project — seven dark acolytes, all clones grown in Spaarti cylinders and modified with Dooku's own genetic material. Bogon himself was one such creation, grown five years before the war from Dooku's blood as a hidden contingency.
If Sidious proved false, Bogon would fulfill Dooku's will as his true apprentice.
The dark acolytes were easy to spot even in low light — tall, pale, radiating unnatural presence in their dark robes. Severance Tarn clones, enhanced and trained in dark side techniques.
"Droid, get over here!" Bogon shouted.
The tactical droid approached with mechanical precision. "Yes, my lord?"
"Are you certain your tactics are sound? I would hate for that warrior Starkiller to take my head."
"My lord, while General Marek employs unconventional tactics, he would not dare attack as long as we hold civilian hostages. The deflector shield and AA batteries will—"
"That is what the first droid said," Bogon growled. "And the second. And the tenth on this miserable planet."
A calm, resonant voice suddenly echoed from the darkness beyond the command center windows.
"The moons are lovely tonight… though they illuminate a sad sight. A bunch of Sith fakers holding civilians hostage. Well, thou who seekest to stain this light with blood shalt have thy wish — and more."
A figure dropped from the shadows above.
**Moon Breathing — Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon.**
A wild barrage of crescent moon blades erupted in front of the intruder — dozens of curved slashes several meters wide. The dark side energy fused with the technique created a storm of lethal silver arcs.
The seven dark acolytes were sliced apart in seconds, blood spraying across the command consoles. Over a hundred droids in the room were shredded into scrap metal. Bogon barely had time to ignite his red lightsaber before the attacker was upon him.
Dagon Marek deactivated his blades and slammed a gauntleted fist into the control panel, shutting down the city's deflector shield and automated AA batteries. Alarms blared as droids rushed to override the command.
Dagon raised his voice, dark and commanding, across an open channel that echoed throughout the city.
"My soldiers… it is time. Rip and tear. Fly and hunt."
From the night sky, hundreds of jetpack trails lit up like falling stars as Republic forces descended upon Rhovari. The city erupted into chaos as the true assault .