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29-Battle of Tatooine, Part 5
🕑 Added 2024-11-17 01:13:32 +0000 UTCThe inside of the bar was absolute chaos. Covenant Elites roared as they crowded the doorway, their jaws clacking in a war frenzy. General Grievous had positioned himself in front of the others, holding his lightsabers lit, but even he seemed to hesitate. Count Dooku was breathing heavily, his lightsaber glowing faintly as he watched the enemies still filling the place. A weakened Ventress could barely stand, leaning against a wall as she watched the horror unfold before them.
Then, as if the universe decided to pause for a moment to build tension, an Elite shot backwards from the doorway with a dry crack, crashing into a table and shattering it. The bar was silent for an instant as the alien's limp body collapsed.
In the doorway, illuminated by dim light and dust, Arnet appeared. His armor was covered in alien blood, and in each hand he held an M6C-SOCOM pistol. He advanced calmly, as if he didn’t care about the number of enemies in front of him. The Spartan’s eyes were cold and calculating, his figure looking more like a predator stalking its prey than a human soldier.
One of the Elites roared in defiance and lunged at him, brandishing an energy sword. Arnet didn’t hesitate. With a quick movement, he shot at the Elite’s leg, bringing it to its knees, and before the alien could regain its balance, Arnet leapt at it, plunging a combat knife into the creature’s throat. A spray of blue blood sizzled as the Elite fell to the ground.
The bar exploded into activity. The remaining Elites roared, opening fire with their plasma rifles, but Arnet moved with almost inhuman precision. He dove to the side, rolling over a toppled table as he fired. Each bullet found its mark, accurate shots to the heads and throats of the Elites, leaving each of them reeling and falling to the ground, dead before they hit the ground.
One particularly large, golden-armored Elite attempted to ambush him from the side, but Arnet saw it coming. With incredible agility, he spun on his heels and threw his knife straight into the alien’s eye. The Elite let out a gasp before collapsing.
The bar was engulfed in chaos of gunfire, roars, and the sound of knives cutting through alien flesh. One of the Elites tried to charge at Arnet from behind, but the Spartan turned just in time. He dropped one of his pistols and, with deadly swiftness, disarmed the alien, breaking its arm in one sharp movement before plunging his knife into its chest.
Grievous watched all this from the back of the bar, his mechanical eyes shining with something he rarely showed: respect mixed with awe. Even for him, a cyborg designed for combat, Arnet's efficiency and brutality was something he couldn't ignore.
Another Elite tried to use an energy field as protection while firing, but Arnet leapt onto the bar counter, ran over it swiftly, and landed behind the alien. Before the Elite could react, the Spartan snapped its neck with a firm twist.
By the time the last Elite fell, silence filled the bar once again. Arnet stood up, breathing calmly, his knife and pistols dripping with blue and purple blood. His eyes scanned the room, making sure no enemy remained alive.
Grievous, still holding his lightsabers, finally turned off the blades and watched him with a mix of disbelief and respect. "I've... never seen anything like it," he said in his metallic voice, his tone less aggressive than usual.
Dooku, still holding his ignited saber, stepped forward. "You... are an impressive soldier, Spartan. Brutally effective."
Just after Arnet finished off the last of the Covenant Elites, the other Spartans fell into formation, moving with deadly precision and securing every corner of the bar. Aayla Secura followed behind them, her ignited lightsaber glowing brightly as she assessed the situation. Before she could do anything, however, Arnet raised a hand, signaling for her to lower her weapon.
"That won't be necessary," he said firmly, as one of the Spartans threw a set of heavy duty handcuffs towards the Confederate members. The metal shackles clattered as they landed on the ground, breaking the silence that remained after the massacre.
Dooku frowned, a mix of surprise and anger on his face. “What does this mean?” he snapped, his voice thick with indignation. “Us prisoners? This must be a joke.”
Arnet crossed his arms, showing no emotion. “This is not a rescue operation, Count. You are all under arrest. Your crimes will be reviewed later. For now, you will cooperate, or I will do it the hard way.”
Dooku’s face tightened, his hand tightening on the lightsaber he still held. “This is a farce,” he finally said. “Who gave you the right to stop us? You are not even part of this galaxy!”
“If it weren’t for us, you would be dead,” Arnet replied coldly. “Surrender now, or this will end in a way you won’t like.”
Before Dooku could respond, Grievous roared, a deafening, metallic sound that echoed throughout the bar. “I will never surrender to you, lesser humans!” he shouted, activating the four lightsabers he still held. With a fierce movement, he charged straight towards Arnet and Aayla.
“Look out!” Aayla shouted, using the Force to push Grievous back before he could reach Arnet. The cyborg was thrown into a wall, but quickly got up, his lightsabers spinning like a whirlwind of deadly energy.
“Spartans, hold your positions!” Arnet ordered as he advanced directly towards Grievous, showing no fear. He drew his pistols and fired with surgical precision. Two shots struck the general’s upper mechanical arms, causing him to drop two of his lightsabers. Grievous roared in fury, turning towards Arnet and trying to charge at him.
Arnet nimbly dodged, rolling to the side as he fired again. This time, the projectiles pierced Grievous’ lower arms, completely disarming him. “Is that all you got?” Arnet said mockingly as he put away his pistols and pulled out his combat knife.
Grievous roared, ignoring his wounds, and lunged at Arnet with his metal claws. But the Spartan was prepared. He leapt forward, slamming a punch straight into the cyborg’s chest. The impact resounded like thunder, sending Grievous flying backwards and crashing to the ground.
Arnet wasted no time. He ran at him, dodging a desperate attempt by Grievous to fight back, and landed squarely on his torso. Using his inhuman strength, he grabbed one of Grievous’ mechanical arms and ripped it off with a sharp crunch. The general screamed in pain as Arnet repeated the process with the second arm.
Aayla, watching Arnet's brutality, couldn't help but feel shocked and a little horrified. She knew Grievous was a monster, but she had never seen anyone subdue him like that.
Grievous, now reduced to a stumbling metal torso, tried to get up, but Arnet shoved him back to the ground, completely immobilizing him. "You're pathetic," Arnet said as he pulled out a set of reinforced handcuffs and placed them on what remained of Grievous' arms. "And now, you're under arrest."
Dooku watched with a mix of anger and shock. "This is barbaric," he said, igniting his lightsaber. "I will not allow you to treat us like animals!"
Before he could move, Aayla stepped forward, her lightsaber crossed with the Count's. "Don't try it," she said in a firm voice. "You're in no position to negotiate."
Dooku gritted his teeth, weighing his options. Finally, she turned off her saber, looking at Arnet with contempt. "You will have your victory for now, Spartan. But this is not over."
"The only thing that is over is your freedom," Arnet replied as he stood up. "Spartans, secure the prisoners. We are leaving here before more Covenant troops arrive."
As the Spartans secured the rest of the Confederate members, Aayla looked at Arnet with a mix of respect and curiosity. "No one... has ever defeated that bastard so quickly," she said, trying to hide her amazement.
Arnet approached Asajj Ventress, who lay on the ground, her breathing shallow and her skin, already pale, looking almost translucent under the weak light of the shattered bar. Blood slowly trickled from a wound in her side, mixing with the dust and debris. Despite being handcuffed, Ventress looked at him with a mix of hatred and resignation. She had no strength to resist.
Arnet knelt beside her, his visor reflecting the flash of the bar's flickering lights. He pulled a small medical scanner from his belt and began assessing the severity of her injuries.
"She's in critical condition," he reported neutrally through his communicator. "Serina, confirm status of the area for immediate air extraction."
Serina’s soft, analytical voice answered instantly, “Admiral, aerial extraction is unfeasible. The area is swarming with Covenant troops. Enemy forces have absolute control of the air perimeter, and any attempt at entry would be suicidal.”
Arnet gritted his teeth. “What options do we have?”
“The best option is to proceed on foot to the spaceports,” Serina replied. “It is the only relatively safe area where we could coordinate a mass extraction. However, the journey will be difficult. Enemy resistance is significant.”
“Of course it is,” Arnet muttered, as he put away the medical scanner. He opened a small capsule of biofoam and began applying it to Ventress’s wound. She let out a grunt of pain, trying to pull away.
“Stay still,” Arnet said, his tone more of a command than a suggestion. “This will keep you alive until we reach safety.”
“Why… do you bother?” Ventress managed to mutter, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with sarcasm and pain. “You could just… leave me here… like another piece of trash.”
Arnet didn’t look up as he worked. “Because even though you are a traitorous piece of trash, you are still a valuable asset right now. And because it is not my place to decide who lives or dies. I am just fulfilling my mission.”
One of the Spartans approached. “Admiral, Covenant troops are reinforcing outside. We can’t stay here for long.”
“I know,” Arnet replied as he finished applying the biofoam and secured Ventress’s handcuffs. He stood up and adjusted both pistols. “Spartans, prepare the formation. Aayla, make sure all the prisoners can move. We take them alive or drag them, but they come with us.”
Aayla looked at Ventress, then at Arnet. “What if they can’t walk? What do we do?”
Arnet looked directly at her, his tone sterner than usual. “Then we charge them. I leave no men behind, and today, though they do not deserve it, they do not stay either.”
Grievous, though maimed and manacled, emitted a metallic laugh from the ground. “Pathetic. Risking so much for so little. Your sense of honor will bring you down, human.”
Arnet turned to him, her voice now icy. “Shut up, you piece of junk. I’ve had enough of your voice.”
One of the Spartans helped lift Ventress while the others made sure the prisoners were ready to move. Dooku, his pride wounded, held his head high, but the sweat on his brow betrayed his facade of control.
“Serina,” Arnet called over the communicator. “Set the quickest route to the spaceports and update enemy movements in real time. We can’t allow ambushes.”
“Understood, Admiral. Transmitting data to your HUD now,” Serina replied.
The bar was silent for a moment, broken only by distant gunfire and the roars of the Covenant outside. Arnet took his position at the front of the group, adjusting his helmet. He looked at the Spartans.
“We’re in enemy territory, with no air support and more targets than we can handle. This won’t be easy. Our priority is to get to the spaceport with all these prisoners alive. Do your jobs and cover each other. We move in 30 seconds.”
“Understood, sir,” the Spartans replied in unison.
Aayla watched Arnet as he readied himself. His leadership was impeccable, and though his tone was cold and professional, there was something about his determination that made her feel like they could somehow survive this madness.
"Arnet," Aayla said as she positioned herself beside him. "You're not wrong to try to save them. Even if they don't deserve it."
"Maybe," he replied, not looking at her. "But I'm not here for merit. I'm here to win."
-x.X.x-
The road to the spaceport was littered with obstacles. Arnet led with precision, Spartan-131 and Spartan-132 covered the flanks, and Aayla Secura stayed close to the prisoners, ready to defend them if necessary. The streets of Mos Eisley were a scene of absolute chaos: the remains of previous fighting and constant Covenant bombardment had left craters in the streets and ruined buildings everywhere.
As they moved forward, Serina appeared on Arnet's comlink. "Admiral, drones detect a large concentration of Covenant troops moving towards your position. I recommend proceeding with extreme caution. There are no safe routes."
Arnet sighed. "They never are. We continue forward."
The group turned a corner and encountered a Covenant patrol consisting of Jackals and Grunts. The enemies had no time to react before Arnet opened fire with surgical precision, taking out three Jackals with shots to their weak points in the energy shields.
Spartan-132 charged straight at a fleeing Grunt, pinning it against a wall. Spartan-131 threw a frag grenade, blasting the rest of the patrol into the air.
“Keep moving!” Arnet ordered, picking up a plasma rifle from a fallen Jackal. The pistols he was carrying had already run out of ammo.
The group continued on, but before they reached the next intersection, a Brute with an energy shotgun emerged from a collapsed building, roaring and firing towards them. The energy shot struck near Aayla, who managed to partially deflect it with her lightsaber, though she was disoriented.
Arnet ran straight at the Brute, dodging the shots and shooting the visor on its helmet with the plasma rifle. The Brute recoiled, blinded by the impact, and Arnet took advantage of the opportunity to lunge at it. Using a combat knife he carried in his boot, he severed the artery in the Brute's neck, knocking it down in a pool of its own blood.
"Next time, cover yourself better!" Arnet shouted to Aayla as he helped her up.
"I'll try," she replied, panting.
As they approached the port, the streets became more open, and the group was exposed to heavy fire from elevated positions. Elites with plasma rifles fired from the rooftops, while Grunts charged en masse from the side streets.
“Cover, now!” Arnet roared, pointing to a group of abandoned vehicles that would serve as a barricade.
Spartan-131 and Spartan-132 launched plasma grenades towards the rooftops, knocking down several Elites, while Arnet fired at Grunts that tried to approach.
Aayla joined the fight, deflecting plasma shots with her lightsaber and taking out several Grunts with quick, deadly blows. However, an Elite charged towards her with an energy sword, and although she managed to block the initial attack, she was clearly outnumbered in strength.
Spartan-132 intervened, shooting the Elite in the torso with his rifle, leaving Aayla to finish him off with a clean cut to the neck.
“Good job, Jedi!” Spartan-132 exclaimed as he reloaded.
“Shut up and keep shooting!” she replied, though a small smile crept across her face.
When the group was only two streets away from the port, a group of Brutes appeared with gravity hammers, flanked by shielded Jackals. The force was overwhelming, and the prisoners began to show signs of panic.
“Spartans, to the flanks! Secura, keep the prisoners alive!” Arnet shouted as he charged straight towards the Jackals, firing with the plasma rifle he had picked up when he ran out of ammo.
With no time to reload, he pulled out a gravity hammer he had taken from a fallen Brute earlier and used it on the Jackals, knocking them down like dominoes. A Brute attempted to attack him from behind, but Arnet spun and struck him in the torso with the hammer, launching him several meters.
Spartan-131 was fighting two Brutes at the same time, using his combat knife to pierce the gaps in their armor. Meanwhile, Spartan-132 was firing at the remaining Jackals, covering Aayla and the prisoners.
Aayla was facing a suicidal Grunt that was running towards her with two activated plasma grenades. With a quick movement, she cut off the Grunt's hands and pushed him back, causing him to explode among his own ranks.
"Advance, advance!" Arnet shouted, picking up a Covenant carbine rifle and firing towards the approaching Elites.
When they finally reached the port perimeter, UNSC and Republic troops were dug in, fighting to maintain control. Arnet's group arrived just in time to reinforce the line, but the Covenant were launching their fiercest attack yet.
Arnet positioned himself on the front line, firing the Covenant carbine and coordinating the movements of the Spartans and Aayla. Each enemy that came close was picked off with deadly precision, but casualties continued to mount among the allied troops.
“Serina, we need extraction now!” Arnet shouted into the communicator as he fired at a Jackal that tried to flank them.
“A ship is on its way, Admiral. Hold on a few more minutes.”
“That’s too long!” Arnet roared as he lobbed another grenade toward a group of Brutes charging the line.
Finally, a Pelican appeared over the horizon, firing its turrets into the Covenant ranks as it landed near the group. The prisoners were quickly loaded aboard, followed by Aayla and the Spartans.
Arnet was the last to board, firing until the last second before the ship took off. When they were finally airborne, he let out a sigh of relief, though his face still showed the intensity of combat.
“Good job, team,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. Aayla looked at him, exhausted but impressed, and simply nodded.
Arnet watched the holotable on the Infinity’s bridge, his face impassive as images of the battle on Tatooine played out in front of him. Everything was falling apart. Reports came in one after another: lost positions, constant casualties, and more civilians trapped in the spaceports. Serina's voice brought him out of his thoughts.
"Admiral, we have lost contact with several ground units. The situation is untenable."
Arnet nodded, his jaw set. He looked at the chaos on the holographic projections, increasingly convinced that continuing to fight would be suicide. He activated his communicator and ordered Serina to issue the evacuation order for all troops. Anakin Skywalker appeared almost immediately on the screen, his face full of fury and frustration.
"There are still civilians in the spaceports! We cannot leave them behind. We must send more transports."
Arnet did not raise his voice, but his tone was firm and definitive. "Skywalker, we cannot save everyone. We are losing men, vehicles, and the resources we have are not enough. If we do not withdraw now, there will be no one left to continue this war."
"This is unacceptable!" Anakin replied, slamming the console in front of him. "If we don't help them, they're doomed."
"I know," Arnet replied, with a coldness that made every word seem like it carried unbearable weight. "And that's exactly why I'm making this decision. I won't endanger any more lives. Do what you want with your troops, but the UNSC is standing down now."
At the spaceports, the scene was bleak. UNSC and Republic troops were struggling to maintain order as civilians crowded against the barricades, screaming, crying, begging not to be left behind. A Marine closed the hatch on a Pelican full of refugees and couldn't help but look down as a woman desperately pounded on the side of the ship.
"Please don't leave us! We can't die here!" she screamed while holding her child.
The Marine gulped and avoided looking at her. He knew there was no room for more. The clones weren't any better either. They tried to hold back the crowds, but the desperation of the people was driving them back. One man tried to cross the barricade and a soldier pushed him back.
"My family is trapped behind! Let me through!" the man pleaded.
"We can't do anything," the clone replied, visibly shaken but trying to remain calm.
The last Pelican took off as screams mixed with the roar of the engines. The soldiers couldn't look back, couldn't face the weight of the stares of those they left behind. From one of the ships, Anakin Skywalker watched the disaster with a knot in his stomach. Beside him, Ahsoka was on the verge of tears.
"This isn't right," she murmured, unable to look directly at the scene.
"I know," Anakin replied, his voice heavy with helplessness. "But we can't do anything now."
On the Infinity's bridge, Serina confirmed the evacuation. "Admiral, all troops have been withdrawn. We are ready to leave the system."
Arnet closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and giving the order. "All ships leave the system. The battle is lost."
The fleet began to retreat as the Covenant cruisers continued to fire mercilessly. Several transport ships were destroyed before they could escape, their remains disintegrating in the atmosphere. From space, the survivors watched as the vitrifying beams turned Tatooine into a crystal wasteland.
Mos Eisley was the first to disappear, and then the rest of the planet followed suit. The sight was heartbreaking, but no one had words to describe it. On the Infinity's bridge, the silence was deathly until Serina spoke.
"Tatooine is lost. There are no signs of life left on the surface."
Arnet stood motionless, staring at the hologram of the now destroyed planet. "This is what we face," he finally said, his voice heavy with gravity. "The Covenant has no mercy. We cannot fail either."
Without looking back, the UNSC and Republic fleets left the system. They had done all they could, but it was not enough. Tatooine was now just a memory burned into their minds and hearts.
End of Chapter 29.
