**Chapter 436**
**Scene 1**
**Lessu, Ryloth – Day 10**
Wat Tambor's mechanical vocoder hissed with barely contained rage as he glared at the blue holographic image of Count Dooku. The Techno Union Foreman had requested immediate reinforcements — a fleet strong enough to break the Republic Navy's stranglehold in orbit and extract him from this disaster.
"Denied!" Dooku snapped, his voice sharp as a vibroblade.
"We are trapped on the ground!" Tambor protested, his pressure suit whining as he leaned forward. "The Republic has parked a pair of cruisers directly overhead! I cannot leave Ryloth!"
"You lost an entire fleet!" Dooku roared, eyes blazing with Sith fury. "In what should have been a perfect ambush! Your stunt here has already cost the Confederacy dearly! Minutes ago, Corellia announced they are joining the war — on the Republic's side! Because of your strategic incompetence, we no longer have the strength for a quick victory. We are now facing a long war of attrition!"
Tambor visibly trembled under the Sith Lord's glare.
Dooku took a slow, dangerous breath. "You will begin bombing all settlements within range of our remaining forces. The Republic's victory on Ryloth must be a hollow one."
The Count turned his head slightly to the side, addressing someone off-screen. A tactical droid stepped forward, holding a holoemitter.
"Hide," Dooku ordered coldly. "At the moment, there are no forces to spare for your misguided adventure, Tambor. I will not weaken another front to save your worthless hide."
The transmission ended.
Back on Ryloth, Tambor stared at the tactical droid now standing before him. The machine refused to obey his frantic orders to launch an immediate counter-strike. Tambor looked up at the sky, where Republic cruisers loomed like executioners. For a moment, he considered using Lessu's entire population as bargaining chips to buy his escape.
Then he remembered who commanded the enemy forces.
General Dagon Marek.
The cyborg felt like a trapped animal.
"What do we have remaining?" Tambor demanded.
"My lord, we have only 100,000 droids, three dozen proton cannons, 200 Vulture droids, 50 Hyena bombers, and 50 modified Valahari droid fighters. All other forces on the planet have been destroyed. We are trapped."
"How much of the treasure has been loaded?"
"Only ten percent has left the planet. Twenty-five percent still remains to be loaded, but the rest has already been captured by the Republic."
Tambor's mechanical eyes narrowed. "Finish the loading. Then close the plasma bridge. Move the population to the city borders. If the Republic wants this city… they will take it over the corpses of its civilians."
**Scene 2**
**Republic Forward Command Post**
**Dagon POV**
I stood in the holographic conference, flanked by Master Shin Wren, her Padawan Erictia, and Marshal Commander Blam. The translucent figures of Master Yoda, Master Windu, Chancellor Palpatine, and the portly Senator Orn Free Taa hovered before us.
"We have taken every city and village so far with minimal losses," Master Wren reported confidently. "We have also protected the settlements from Separatist fire-bombing counterattacks. All that remains is the capital."
"You must hurry and save my people, General Dagon!" Orn Free Taa pleaded, his multiple chins wobbling. "The CIS occupation has already lasted so long. Perhaps—"
"Perhaps you should contact the local freedom fighter Cham Syndulla to help end this battle faster," Master Windu suggested.
"I am already in contact with him," I replied. "He is helping organize relief efforts and feeding his people with Republic transports."
"What?! You can't do that!" Orn Free Taa spluttered. "Chancellor, Cham is a snake and he would most likely— sorry, we are getting some local interference. Bye."
I calmly cut the transmission mid-sentence.
"Dagon, you can't do that," Shin said, though her tone carried amusement rather than real disapproval.
"A corrupt fat idiot, right Erictia?" I asked.
"Yes, General Dagon," the Padawan replied without hesitation.
Shin gave her Padawan a look, but couldn't quite hide her smile.
"Now come on," I said, turning away from the holoprojector. "We have a battle to win."
**Scene 3**
**Abandoned City Catacombs – Jaxuan Desert**
**Cham Syndulla POV**
Cham Syndulla stood on a rocky ledge, gazing at the setting sun painting Ryloth's desert in deep reds and oranges. To many, the planet looked monotonous — endless sand, brown, and rusty tones. But to him, it was beautiful. You simply had to know how to look at it.
Or perhaps there was no choice. Ryloth was home.
Nature had compensated for the planet's harshness by giving its children skin of every hue and shade. Yet the fate of the Twi'lek people remained as unforgiving as the world they lived on. Claimants had always come for Ryloth — the Republic, the CIS, even their own corrupt senators.
As a teenager, Cham had realized words alone would never be enough. So he became a fighter. *Not a terrorist,* he often reminded himself. *A freedom fighter.*
He had been fighting for nearly ten years — first against Republic exploitation, now against the Confederacy stripping his world bare.
For the freedom of Ryloth.
That phrase had become the guiding star of his life.
Sighing, Cham turned and descended into the catacombs of the abandoned city. His fighters had retreated here after earlier defeats. Families huddled in the lower levels. Food and medicine were scarce.
At the entrance, a breathless fighter named Bastra met him.
"Cham! The Eighth Squad is returning. With loot."
Inside the main square, people gathered as the column of blargs arrived. Cham spotted his nine-year-old daughter Hera climbing down from one of the animals, full of energy despite everything.
Hera had been his closest companion since her mother died years ago in a skirmish with slavers. She had her mother's restless spirit.
"Dad! Dad! Look what I found!" Hera ran up and tugged his hand, dragging him toward a battered astromech droid.
"Model C-One… looks like a modification of the eight-pi… or ten?" Cham noted automatically.
"Yeah, I gave it to her as a gift," a familiar voice said from the shadows. "It has a shield generator built in from a captured droideka. That way, in case of emergency…"
Dagon Marek stepped forward, armor dusty but imposing.
"My friend," Cham said warmly, clasping arms with him. "How long has it been since you first sent aid to my world?"
"About five months since I sent ships and supplies," Dagon replied. "As for freedom… even as a High Jedi General, I can't make you the elected leader of Ryloth instead of that idiot in the Senate. I could ask a loyalist senator to investigate him, but without solid proof…"
"Hah. A noble effort, my friend. But even with the planet freed, I doubt I could help my people with Orn still in power."
"Look," Dagon said seriously. "With the CIS equipment we've destroyed and the 14th Sector now controlling Ryloth, Geonosis, and several dozen key CIS worlds… I might be able to assist you politically. But I'll need your help."
"Whatever you need — from the end of the Ryloth plains, my people stand with you," Cham declared.
The freedom fighters around them began to chant, voices rising like thunder across the catacombs:
"For Dagon!"
"For Starkiller!"
The chant grew louder, echoing through the stone halls.
For the first time in years, Cham Syndulla allowed himself a real smile.