# The art of war. An unforeseen factor

Аноним Адептуссибириус

The young historian gets into the body of a Jedi knight at the beginning of the Clone Wars and becomes the general of the 13th army. He takes Ahsoka as a padawan and generally violates the canon in every possible way.

Важно: список используемых материалов:

Фильмы:

Звездные войны. Эпизод I: Призрачная угроза (19 мая 1999)

Звездные войны. Эпизод II: Атака клонов (16 мая 2002)

Звездные войны. Эпизод III: Месть Ситхов (19 мая 2005)

Звездные войны. Эпизод IV: Новая Надежда (25 мая 1977)

Звездные войны. Эпизод V: Империя Наносит Ответный Удар (21 мая 1980)

Звездные войны. Эпизод VI: Возвращение Джедая (25 мая 1983)

Анимационные фильмы и сериалы:

"Войны клонов", мультипликационный сериал (2003)

"Звёздные войны: Войны клонов", анимационный фильм 2008 года.

"Звёздные войны: Войны клонов", анимационный телевизионный сериал (1-6 сезоны).

Книги (романы, повести, рассказы, адаптации и новеллизации):

Серия "Медстар". Авторы: Майкл Ривз, Стив Перри

Грэг Бир

"Планета-бродяга"

Терри Брукс

"Звёздные войны: Эпизод I. Призрачная угроза"

Дейв Волвертон

"Становление силы"

Райдер Виндхем

Серия: "Star Wars Adventures".

Том и Марта Вейтч

"Судьба охотника: Родианская байка"

Кристен Голден

"Ученик Тьмы"

Брайан Дейли

Серия: "Приключения Хана Соло"

Тимоти Зан

"Сверхдальний Перелёт"

"Дуэль"

"Герои Картао"

Дрю Карпишн

"Реван"

"Уничтожение"

"A Mother's Hope"

"Дарт Бейн: Путь разрушения"

"Дарт Бейн: Правило двух"

"Дарт Бейн: Династия зла"

Пол Кемп

"Третий урок"

"Старая Республика. Обманутые"

Энн К. Криспин

"Трилогия о Хане Соло".

Тим Леббон

"Заря джедаев: В бесконечность".

"Приключения Ланори Брок, Рейнджера Дже'даии".

Джеймс Лусено

"Дарт Плэгас"

"Restraint"

"Дарт Мол: Диверсант"

"Под покровом лжи"

"Лабиринт Зла"

"Тёмный повелитель: Становление Дарта Вейдера"

Карен Миллер

"Дикий космос"

Джон Джексон Миллер

Цикл "Затерянное племя ситхов":

"На краю"

"Дети небес"

"Соперники"

"Спаситель "

"Чистилище"

"Страж"

"Пантеон"

"Тайны"

"Пандемониум" /

"Тайный журнал доктора Демагола".

"В муках рождается..."

"Помехи в эфире"

"Странствующий Рыцарь: Налёт"

"Кеноби"

Майкл Ривз

"Дарт Мол. Тёмный мститель".

Джордж Стрейтон

"A Tale from the Dark Side".

Серия "Ночи Корусанта"

Мэтью Стовер

"Звёздные войны: Эпизод III. Месть ситхов"

"Уязвима точка"

"Оборудование"

Роберт Сальваторе

"Звёздные войны: Эпизод II. Атака клонов"

Л. Нейл Смит

"Лэндо Калриссиан и Арфа Души народа шару"

"Лэндо Калриссиан и Огненный ветер Осеона"

"Лэндо Калриссиан и Звёздная пещера ТонБока"

Шон Стюарт

"Йода: Свидание с тьмой"

Карен Тревисс

"Войны Клонов"

Серия: "Республиканские Коммандос".

"Огневой Контакт"

"Команда Омега: Цели"

"Тройной ноль"

"Шансы"

"Истинное лицо"

"Приказ 66"

Шон Уильям

"Старая Республика. Роковой Альянс"

Джуд Уотсон

"Властитель чёрной Силы "

"Похитители памяти"

"Знак Короны"

"Планета войн"

"На перепутье"

"Осаждённый храм"

"Час расплаты"

"Битва за истину"

"Шаткий мир"

"Смертельный охотник"

"Дьявольский эксперимент"

"Спасти любой ценой"

"Заблуждения"

"Связующее звено"

"Гибель надежды"

"Призыв к возмездию"

"Единственный свидетель"

"Угроза изнутри"

"Последователи"

"Странствия джедая"

"Путь к правде"

"Путь ученика"

"По следам джедая"

"Опасные игры"

"Мастер перевоплощений"

"Школа страха"

"Темная западня"

"Притворный мир"

"Последний из джедаев"

"Миссия отчаяния"

"Предупреждение тьмы"

"Дно"

"Смерть на Набу"

"Возвращение Тёмной стороны"

"Призраки ситхов"

Александр Фрид

"The Last Battle of Colonel Jace Malcom"

Алан Дин Фостер

"Преддверие бури"

Роб Честни

"Smuggler's Vanguard"

Джо Шрайбер

"Красный урожай"

"Штурмовики Смерти"

Графические Новеллы (комиксы, серии комиксов):

"Заря джедаев" Автор: Джон Острандер

"Сказания о джедаях - Золотой век Ситхов". Автор: Кевин Андерсон

"Сказания о джедаях - Крах Империи Ситхов". Автор: Кевин Андерсон

"Сказания о джедаях - Улик Кель-Дрома и Звериные Войны Ондерона". Автор: Том Вейтч

"Сказания о джедаях - Сага о Номи Санрайдер". Автор: Том Вейтч

"Сказания о джедаях - Мятеж Фридона Надда". Автор: Том Вейтч

"Сказания о джедаях - Тёмные повелители Ситхов". Авторы: Том Вейтч, Кевин Андерсон

"Сказания о джедаях - Война Ситхов". Автор: Кевин Андерсон

"Сказания о джедаях - Искупление". Автор: Кевин Андерсон

"Звёздные Войны: Истории".

"Рыцари Старой Республики". Автор: Джон Джексон Миллер

"Рыцари Старой Республики: Война". Автор: Джон Джексон Миллер

"Старая Республика". Авторы: Роб Честни, Александр Фрид

"Затерянное племя Ситхов". Автор Джон Джексон Миллер

"Странствующий Рыцарь". Автор Джон Джексон Миллер

"Джедаи против Ситхов". Дарко Мацан

"Джедай: Тёмная Сторона". Автор: Скотт Элли

"Квай-Гон и Оби-Ван". Автор: Майк Кеннеди

"Совет Джедаев: Боевые дествия". Автор: Рэнди Стрэдли

"Дарт Мол". Автор: Рон Марц

"Звёздные Войны: Республика". Авторы: Ян Стрнад, Тимоти Трумэн, Джон Острандер, Пэт Миллс, Даг Петри, Рэнди Стрэдли, Джереми Барлоу, Хейден Блэкмен, Скотт Элли,

"Джанго Фетт - Сезон открыт". Хейден Блэкмен

"Странствия джедая". Автор: Райдер Виндхем

"Охотники за головами". Авторы: Тимоти Трумэн, Рэнди Стрэдли, Марк Шульц

"Звездолёт: клеймо пирата". Автор: Хейден Блэкмен

"Кровные узы". Автор: Том Тэйлор

"Джедай".

"Генерал Гривус".

"Одержимость". Автор: Хейден Блэкмен

"Республиканские коммандос: по зову долга".

"Рутинная доблесть".

"Войны Клонов: Приключения". Автор: Хейден Блэкмен

"Войны Клонов: Titan Magazines UK".

web-комиксы по мультсериалу "Войны Клонов".

"Войны Клонов".

"Дарт Мол: Смертный Приговор". Автор: Том Тэйлор

"Дарт Мол: сыны Датомира".

"Чистка". Авторы: Джон Острандер, Хейден Блэкмен,

"Дарт Вейдер и пропавший командир". Автор: Хейден Блэкмен

"Дарт Вейдер и тюрьма-призрак". Автор: Хейден Блэкмен

"Дарт Вейдер и девятый убийца". Автор: Хейден Блэкмен

"Дарт Вейдер и мольбы теней". Автор: Хейден Блэкмен

"Тёмные Времена". Автор Рэнди Стрэдли

"Агент Империи".

"Боба Фетт".

"Хан Соло в звёздном тупике".

"Империя".

"Преступный мир: Явинская вассилика".

"Разбойная Эскадрилья".

"Охота Вейдера".

"Звёздные Войны"(DARK HORSE 2013-2014).

"Восстание".

"Осколок кристалла власти".

"Тени Империи".

"Мара Джейд: Рукой Императора"

"Х-крыл".

Трилогия Трауна: "Наследник Империи", "Возрождение Тьмы", "Последний приказ".

"Тёмная империя".

"Конец Империи".

"Алая Империя I-III".

"Академия Джедаев".

"Союз".

"Чубакка".

"Вторжение".

"Наследие".

"Наследие: Война".

"Наследие - 2".

"Кэнан. Первая кровь. Глава четвёртая: Террасы Майгито". Автор Грег Вайсман

Игры:

Star Wars D6 series.

Star Wars D20 series.

Star Wars RPG.

Различные компьютерные игры, вышедшие до 2012 года.

Справочники:

"Путеводитель по вселенной "Звёздных войн" - Декабрь, 1984

"A Guide to the Star Wars Universe, Second Edition, Revised and Expanded" - 8 марта 1994

"A Guide to the Star Wars Universe, Third Edition, Revised and Expanded" - 3 октября 2000

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Расы и существа" - 3 апреля 2001

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Персонажи" - Ноябрь, 1995

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Полная история" - 4 апреля 2000

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Дроиды" - 16 февраля 1999

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Планеты и спутники" - 21 июля 1998

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Звездолёты и транспортные средства" - 19 марта 1996

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Оружие и военные технологии" - 4 ноября 1997

"Новая иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Расы и существа" - 31 октября 2006

"Новая иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Персонажи" - 23 апреля 2002

"Новая иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Полная история" - 25 октября 2004

"Новая иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Дроиды" - 27 июня 2006

"Новая иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Звездолёты и транспортные средства" - 30 сентября 2003

"Новая иллюстрированная энциклопедия. Оружие и военные технологии" - 26 октября 2004

"Иллюстрированный атлас" - 18 августа 2009

"Джедаи против ситхов: Иллюстрированное руководство по Силе" - 27 ноября 2007

"Иллюстрированная энциклопедия военного дела" - 3 апреля 2012

"Иллюстрированный путеводитель читателя" - 2 октября 2012

"Оригинальная трилогия: Иллюстрированный словарь" - 22 октября 1998

"Скрытая угроза: Иллюстрированный словарь" - 26 мая 1999

"Атака клонов: Иллюстрированный словарь" - 22 апреля 2002

"Месть ситхов: Иллюстрированный словарь" - 2 апреля 2005

"Звёздные войны: Полный иллюстрированный словарь" - 25 сентября 2006

"Скрытая угроза: Иллюстрированный словарь, расширенное издание" - 16 января 2012

"Звёздные войны: Полное иллюстрированное руководство" - 19 сентября 2005

"Звёздные войны: Полное иллюстрированное руководство, специальное издание" - 19 марта 2007

"Звёздные войны: Полное иллюстрированное руководство (обновлённое и расширенное)" - 30 апреля 2012

"Star Wars Blueprints" - 1 ноября 1977

"Star Wars Blueprints: The Ultimate Collection" - 4 августа 2008

"Star Wars Blueprints: Rebel Edition" - 19 июля 2010

"Star Wars Blueprints: The Classic Trilogy" - 2012

"Миры Звёздных войн. Эпизод I: Скрытая угроза" - 1 октября 2000

"Миры Звёздных войн. Эпизод II: Атака клонов" - 5 мая 2003

"Миры Звёздных войн. Оригинальная трилогия" - 1 августа 2004

"Звёздные войны: Полный путеводитель по мирам" - 17 октября 2005

"Звёздные войны. Войны клонов: Путеводитель" - 26 июля 2008

"Звёздные войны. Войны клонов: Иллюстрированное руководство по битвам" - 17 августа 2009

"Звёздные войны. Войны клонов: Официальный путеводитель по эпизодам 1 сезона" - 29 октября 2009

"Звёздные войны. Войны клонов: Энциклопедия персонажей" - 21 июня 2010

"Звёздные войны. Войны клонов: Новые поля сражений - Путеводитель" - 30 августа 2010

"Звёздные войны: Официальный справочник по эпизодам "Войн клонов" 1 и 2 сезонов" - 30 сентября 2010

... И многие другие: Star Wars Insider, серия справочников от West end Games(WEG) и прочая, прочая, прочая...

Иные источники (сайты):

https://starwars.fandom.com

http://yavin.narod.ru

http://www.imperialbastion.ru

https://starforge.info

https://www.jcouncil.net

http://www.hungry-ewok.ru


Episode I. An Unforeseen Factor. Part One. "The Clone Wars have begun." Chapter 1.


The desire to survive

overcomes agony.

***

Slowly, but surely, consciousness cleared up, and thoughts gathered in a pile, pulling out a train of memories.... An ordinary, unremarkable weekday... Evening, to be more precise - the lanterns on the streets have already been lit. I went outside... yes, that's right, to the store, to buy bread. It was cold, twenty degrees below zero, so I moved vigorously. I walked along the sidewalk, I didn't touch anyone. I was thinking about something... Important... I don't remember! I didn't pay any attention to the sound right away... There was a strange sound. And then the darkness.

I didn't even have time to be scared. Then some colorful glitches. Stars, planets, constellations... seemed to fly right under my feet.... There was some kind of fog or smoke swirling around... And all this in utter silence. In general, I was clearly somewhere far away. At least there's no light at the end of the tunnel.

It's a good thing that all this incomprehensible nonsense is ending. I hope I didn't lie in the snow for long and didn't freeze anything off. It is unlikely that anyone will rush to help a stranger lying on the sidewalk, and to call an ambulance is to meet someone extraordinary.... Yes, consciousness is returning, and so is hearing. Yeah, there's a rumble, although maybe it's just ringing in my ears. No, the screams are getting louder, the clang of metal. "Has some kind of construction started nearby, or has someone decided to celebrate tinker's Day because of the ice?

I moved my hand. Sand creaked between his fingers. The warm sun was shining overhead. A cloying, unfamiliar smell filled my nostrils.

What the hell kind of sand??? Everything has been paved a long time ago, and... winter is in the yard, the evening has probably already arrived, it can't be so warm! When I tried to open my eyes, I found that they were also covered with sand. I sat up and rubbed my eyes with a stiff hand. It took a few seconds to finally come to my senses. He barely opened his left eye. Closed it. He opened the right one. The picture has not changed. He closed his right eye and took a deep breath. Pain shot through his chest. A cacophony of screams, gunfire, screeching, and explosions filled my ears. Although the shots had a very familiar sound.

I opened my eyes.

- Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I wanted to say something unprintable, but the words stuck in my throat and my head hurt. And what I saw was complete nonsense, something that could not be by definition, but that was undoubtedly happening at the moment. The nonsense is painfully familiar. Shaking his head and taking a closer look, he made sure that nothing had changed. Only the picture became clearer. And somehow I immediately realized that I was totally stuck in. Just like in those books about "попадунов". Because after that high-speed flight past glitches in the form of stars, constellations and nebulae, reality looked very plausible. Too much, even.

Geonosis, for fuck's sake! Petranaki Arena, damn it! The fucking Jedi! The droids, damn them! Star Wars, by the Power of the mother soul!

By the way, I wonder if I'm in my body here or if I've hit someone. Memory, come on, help me! I conjure all the gods and the Force, just don't C-three-pi-o... or any other droid....

I didn't even have time to panic at the thought that I didn't have the slightest idea how to search my brains for other people's memories, but suddenly I realized that I just knew how to, uh... me (?) call... That is, I remembered two names, but one was completely unusual and was accompanied by images of life in the Jedi Temple and a flight to this planet. Mikore Vict??? Who else is this?

As soon as this thought flashed through my head, the answer came to me again. So, Jedi, twenty-six years old, human, Balance Corps. Pictures from the life of the former owner of the body flashed before my eyes. The mentor was some old Zabrak named Nhon Arto. He is not particularly remarkable, he owns only the first form of sword fighting, which Shii-Cho did not particularly strive to develop in terms of combat, preferring meditation. Unsurprisingly, he worked in the Balance Corps after becoming a Knight-he had no desire to wander around the back of the Galaxy as a diplomat. And of course, like any Jedi, he didn't have a penny to his name. A typical average Jedi. The number of midi-chlorians in the blood is two thousand eight hundred and thirty-nine. He wandered around the Galaxy with a diplomatic teacher for a while, didn't participate in any serious skirmishes, and about four years ago he became a Jedi knight.

And the strangest thing is that I took all these memories for granted, I just remembered! However, my head reacted to this with an aching pain, so unbearable that I wanted to open my skull and scratch my brains with my hand. It's hard to find epithets that would somehow describe... this. In general, those are still feelings.

Phew, not the worst option. It could have turned into Skywalker. Brr, чур me. Getting into that cocky idiot... Although, in principle, I understand him and have nothing personal against him. After all, he's as cool as a boiled egg. The chosen one is all business. The central figure of the main events of Star Wars.

Although, Palpatine or Yoda would also be out of the ordinary, despite my deep respect for them. What is one great combinator, what is the second. I wouldn't have pulled such roles, oh, I didn't... Again, I'm a man and a human. By God, if I'd been caught in some kind of snowstorm, I'd have shot myself right there. If I could, I might not have any hands. Or vice versa, about forty pieces at once.

Actually, my name is Vladimir Lanevsky, twenty-four years old, Russian by nationality, a student of the Faculty of History, my interests are books; in particular, I was fond of "Star Wars", there was something to evaluate and weigh in historical terms. I didn't make any friends because of my personality. I've never humiliated myself in front of anyone, and I've often said what I think about people. Someone once told me that I was too old-fashioned, but I don't think it was serious.

Although... now my past life is not very important. You have to get used to the new name. God forbid I get burned, they'll put me in some kind of hospital. And they'll put it down to a concussion injury, and remember their name.

***

It hurts so much! Concentrating, he called on all the body's memory to help, and tried to cut off the pain, to distance himself from it. It became more tolerable, but not by much. There was no question of healing the wound. But the meditations of the former owner of the body still brought benefits. I was able to move without causing myself unbearable pain. When I felt his chest, I found a hole left by a blaster shot. The Jedi robes were hopelessly ruined.

"Damn! Why the hell am I lying here? It's like there's a battle going on, and no one's going to wait while I'm lying here thinking! I have to do something, or some shitty droid is going to shoot me dead right now. I don't really want to die a second time."

***

Meanwhile, the situation was getting ugly. The Droids had pushed the Jedi away from the stands, and now they were fighting in the arena. Jango Fett had already "fried" Master Windu with a flamethrower, and he jumped down.

B-1 and B-2 died by the dozens and hundreds, but the pieces of iron had no fear, and more and more new ranks entered the arena. Although, as they entered, they ran quite briskly, much faster than in the movie. The individual skills of the Jedi were shattered by the coordinated actions of the machines. No matter what anyone says about the weakness of the B-1 processors, they obviously don't have a Pentium-4, but something more serious. Well, the B-2s did even better - they tried not to approach the Jedi, but fired from twin wrist blasters, which were the most difficult shots to deflect.

The Jedi were stupidly crushed by the mass. Here and there, another swordsman fell, deflecting ten shots and failing to deflect the eleventh. The Geonosiance bastards also contributed... or the Geonosians? It doesn't matter, in general, these insectoids flying here and there with their sonic guns. A terrifying weapon, despite its short range.

And now I understand why Yoda made such a face at the end of Revenge of the Sith - I felt the death of the Jedi, with some kind of itch, I would say goosebumps on my skin. I felt the Force itself as a kind of formation in my body, and at the same time it seemed to be diffused around me. Incredibly simple.

Damn, blinsky! It's time to save your ass. There are already a hundred Jedi left! We need to hold out for a while, and then the cavalry will arrive. There was no question of saving anyone. I'm not a scoundrel, but I'm not a hero either.

What can I do in this situation? Almost nothing. If magisters like Mace Windu and Ki Adi Mundi are retreating, the droids will step over me and not notice. Here is such a parsley. It remains only to try to survive.

My new body obeyed me better and better, and circumstances spurred me to take decisive action.

***

Turning his head, noticing his own deactivated sword lying nearby (nothing remarkable, two crystals, a blue blade) and an E-5 carbine belonging to B-1, he grabbed the carbine without hesitation. What a sword, fuck it! I've always dreamed of shooting with a blaster! However, the sword went to its rightful place on the belt. Moreover, not with my wound to show the wonders of acrobatics. And I'm not a Jedi master. That's the Plo-Kun beast over there, he crushed eleven Bae-firsts in two seconds. And I didn't even really keep track of his sword. Or Shaak Ti - she also gave the droids heat, Mom, don't worry.

Hmm, offhand it's not as heavy as it seems, it'll be about two kilograms. Leaning against the "corpse" of the B-2, he aimed the barrel at the approaching droids. The trigger mechanism, so to speak, is somewhat inconvenient, and no wonder, because the weapon is designed for the three-fingered stump of a B-1 droid, and on a human hand, and on a wookiee paw, but nothing, you can press, and fine. Come on, Forc, let's help! Pee-pee! There is! Got it! Still, it's cool that there's no payoff!

Actually, I've only shot a couple of times in my life, at a school shooting range with an air rifle. I did not hold firearms in my hands at all - I did not manage to get into the army (except for the mass-dimensional model of the Kalashnikov assault rifle?). Piu! Piu-piu-piu! Catch it, you bastard! Pee-pee! Peek-a-boo! What the hell? When I noticed the indicator light, I realized that the charge and gas in the cartridge had run out. It doesn't matter, there's enough of this stuff here, so you don't have to bother with recharging. Throwing the useless piece of metal aside, I moved slightly to the left, picking up a new carbine. "Well, shall we continue?" piu, piu! Piu, piu, piu!

I have experimentally established that the carbine is weak against the droids themselves, of course, Be-the first and one accurate hit is enough, but Be-the second already needed five or six hits. They're tough, damn it. Unsurprisingly, the clones ran with hefty fools, a cross between a three-line and a light machine gun - the DS-15a had more than enough power against droids. The Kaminoans clearly knew how to equip the ordered army and what it would have to face.

There was an explosion behind me, and something massive collapsed behind me. Turning my head, I saw Skywalker for the first time in person. The guy was swinging his sword smartly, deflecting blaster shots, while Amidala, hiding behind the body of a repulsorlift wagon left over from the Geonosian drivers, confidently fired back from the same E-5.

Meanwhile, Skywalker turned his attention to me. Apparently, the sight of a Jedi lying on the ground and firing a blaster instead of waving a lightsaber clearly warped his worldview.

"Master, what are you doing? And where is your sword?"

"Where, where." God knows, I had a strong desire to answer him in rhyme - the circumstances did not suit. But, restraining himself, he decided to squint under the wise Yoda and gave out a phrase he had read somewhere:

"A Jedi without a sword is like a Jedi with a sword, but without a sword. And I'm not a master, I'm just an ordinary knight," after that, after watching the elongated face of the Chosen One for a brief moment, he turned away and continued shooting droids.

"Oh," was all Skywalker could manage. However, none of us had time to talk.

Still, that sound of a blaster shot... mmm. Beauty. Piu! Piu-Piu!

Oh... my mother hutt, that's a filthy animal! It was my gaze that fell on one of the little animals that the trio of "loser scouts" were using in the arena. Yes, in reality, aklay, as someone else's memory immediately suggested, looked much more intimidating, a kind of six-meter cross between a praying mantis and a shark. One of her nasty screams is worth a lot. Even the droids made way for this vile creature. However, it didn't take long for Obi-Wan to chop off her legs and then spectacularly put a hole in her head.

But all fun comes to an end. The Jedi, losing more and more fighters, began to retreat to the center of the arena. I had just run out of carbine charges, and the barrel was pretty hot. After all, these weapons are designed for droids. But, worse than that, the ring of our defense had already completely shrunk, and remaining in position behind the metal bulk of the B-2, I risked being cut off from my own in a minute.

Throwing away the useless piece of metal, I activated my lightsaber-if I can't destroy droids, at least I won't let them hit me. At another moment, I would undoubtedly have admired this miracle, but now there was no time for contemplation. Damn, it's harder than I thought! My body wasn't listening very well, but gradually my motor skills took over. By some miracle, I still manage to deflect the shot, but I can't send it back to the shooter. And I remembered that Shii-Cho was weak in terms of deflecting blaster shots. I'll hope that at least I won't hurt my own...

***

In the end, the few survivors formed a small circle. The droids, obeying Count Dooku's gesture, stopped firing and took up a waiting position. Estimating their number, I whistled in my head - at least two thousand, however. And there are about seven hundred pieces lying on the sand of the arena, crumbled into pieces. And, all over the arena, the bodies of humans, Twi'leks, Zabraks, and other races whose names I couldn't immediately remember. And there were only so many of them left that it was impossible to figure out who it was or what.

"The Magistr of Windu! You have shown valor worthy of entering the annals of the Jedi Order! But now it's over. Surrender, and we will spare your lives."

Well, the chatter has begun. And after all, everyone knows the result anyway, but talking is sacred.

Windu glared at the count.

"We will not be a bargaining chip for you, Dooku."

He slowly held out his hand:

"I'm sorry, old friend."

The droids got into a fighting position and pointed their blasters at us. The Jedi raised their swords. I lowered myself slightly, holding the activated sword horizontally with both hands. What the hell is not joking, it can come to hand-to-hand combat.

Come on, where are you, Yoda, your fucking green... it's time for the cavalry to appear.

A rumble was heard from the sky.

"Look," Amidala exclaimed. Our eyes went up.

LAAT gunboats, nine in number, descended from the sky at a rapid pace, firing from all barrels. The droids switched to a new threat and opened fire, but the gunboats with laser beam installations are powerful. The weak shots of the droids only slightly melted the armor of the gunboats. Green beams sliced through the droid ranks for scrap. The forward turrets of the light blaster cannons also contributed.

"Come on, it's time for us to leave."

The gunboats, having completed a lap of honor, and, in addition, firing rockets at the stands, descended into the arena. The clones jumped to the ground and opened fire. The blue and red shots kept flashing.

The remaining Jedi hurried to them. Naturally, I followed everyone. Having boarded, we abruptly began to gain altitude, leaving the Petranaki arena.

***

After catching my breath, I discovered that my traveling companion was Luminara Unduli herself and several other fairly familiar personalities: Shaak Ti, Ayla Secura and Kit Fisto. In reality, they looked... cool. Especially Shaak Ti in her traditional outfit and coloring. Although the blue-skinned Twi'leech could give her a fair head start. And they felt very... weighty in their Strength, I would say.

There were also a dozen clones present. Well, what can I say about them - serious guys, everything is as it should be. They were hung with barrels, one had a rocket launcher tube protruding from his shoulder, the other was holding a Z-6, a hefty rotary blaster-six-barreled shotgun. He looked no less solid with her than Schwarzenegger.

Looking at Fisto's positive face, I couldn't help but smile. The Jedi turned their gaze on me, though their gazes immediately fixed on the hole in my chest.

"Sir, are you okay?" one of the clones asked, judging by the chest markings, some kind of commander - neither I nor my predecessor understood the insignia adopted on Kamino. "You could use some medical help."

"It would be nice, but there's no time right now", and when I realized that the Jedi were looking at me, trying to remember who I was, but to my shame, not really succeeding, I decided to introduce myself: "Mikore Vikt, the Jedi knight," after which he wanted to bow, but it was at that moment that we were visibly shaken. Everyone grabbed their safety belts.

Turning to the clone commander, I asked:

"What is it?"

"Approaching separatist positions, sir."

With a grunt, I got ready for the second part of the Marlaison ballet.

***

A battle of ships was unfolding in the skies. Some of the "Endorsers" clashed with the few ships of the Trade Federation. Some of them, on the contrary, had already entered the atmosphere, which made it possible to land clone troops at an incredible speed. A couple of cruisers even landed on the surface of the planet. Probably to land the hefty SPHA self-propelled guns.

The transporters landed clones and AT-TE tanks on the approaches to the separatist ships. Then Shaak Ti commanded:

"Pilot, drop us off at the front line!"

"Roger that," the pilot replied obediently over the intercom.

The gunboat banked, and, firing from all barrels, began to descend. A few moments later, we were already jumping out. The clones followed us. The magistrs and masters of the saiga ran off in different directions to take command of the detachments.

How's the command? They simply made a pretentious gesture of "follow me!", waved their swords no less pretentiously and dragged the clones into a frontal attack, while rushing ahead themselves, clearly intending to engage the droids in hand-to-hand combat. Apparently, they did not learn the lesson that the Petranaki arena taught them. Although... magisters can afford it, unlike ordinary members of the Order.

Grunting in frustration, since I didn't feel like rushing anywhere with a hole in my belly, much less head-on at several tens of thousands of continuously firing robots, I nevertheless gritted my teeth and waved my hand in the direction of the droids:

"Come on, let's kick their ass! Go ahead!" it was madness, pure idiocy, and I even understood it, but either the herd feeling of "everything is done and I have to" worked, or the subconscious understanding that it's better not to stand out, or maybe I just temporarily went crazy from everything I've been through and adrenaline hit me in the head. So I ran, hoping desperately that I wouldn't get shot.

I was followed by a squad of clones flying in our gunboat, as well as three more similar squads.

All hell was breaking loose. Around and ahead of us, numerous clone troopers were inexorably attacking separatist ships. MLRS droids fired missiles hysterically in all directions. The droids were also advancing, firing heavily. Huge spider droids, towering a good twenty meters, slowly mowed down the advancing clones with red rays. Clone tanks AT-TE fired from all barrels, especially distinguished by artillery installations of the main caliber. As I found out later, they were quite ordinary kinetic guns with a caliber of about seventy five to eighty millimeters. Laats, which were gunboats and landing craft at the same time, flew at different altitudes at a rapid pace, firing missiles from mass accelerators at droids and Trade Federation starships.

A shadow crossed us, and another AT-TE tank landed in front of us, from which clone infantrymen jumped out through the landing hatches. Together with them, our squad increased to fifty clones, and with the support of a tank, firing, we hurried to meet the counterattacking droids.

Barely deflecting the shots, I ran forward. A little more, and the seps will start to reel in. There, their balloon ships (hefty crap, by the way) began to rise into the air. The blue rays of the SPHA art installations pierced into the nearest ship (they were simply HUGE - forty meters long and a four-story building tall). It hovered for a second, then streams of plasma splashed out from under the hull, and the ship began to collapse. Yes, this is not a pound of raisins!

At that moment, a parting salvo from some kind of droid missile tank covered our squad. Two missiles hit the tank at once, one right in the forehead, the second hit the roof; A couple more exploded in the ranks of the clones. My face was scorched by fire. The blast wave threw us far back. Hitting something, I safely passed out.


I. Part One. Chapter 2.


Much knowledge, many sorrows.

(King Solomon).

***

Jedi Order Magister Shaak Ti wandered through the battlefield between the skeletons of war machines, blast craters and droid debris, but her thoughts were far from this landscape right now.

The battle of Geonosis itself took twelve hours, and ended only recently. Now the ships of the fleet have descended to the planet to take on board the troops. Medical frigates landed directly on the battlefield to provide assistance to the wounded as soon as possible. Clones from the evacuation team and medical clones, along with med droids, scurried around the battlefield; they were assisted by free clone troopers.

Despite the fact that the clones acted quickly, skillfully and decisively, losses could not be avoided. Master Yoda risked a lot by bringing untrained troops into battle: theory is theory, but without practice it is not worth much. Although the clones were just "weapons", Shaak Ti felt that they were alive, and there was not one like the other, although they all looked the same.

The battle unfolded almost all over the planet in places where automated droid factories and transport ships of the Trade Federation and the Technosoyuz were located, onto which finished products were loaded. The detachments of the Grand Army of the Republic numbered four corps - at least one hundred and fifty thousand clones, supported by thousands of armored vehicles. The fleet consisted of fifty Approving BDK, thirty-five Consular-type corvettes and twenty-five MedStar-type vessels. The number of fighters exceeded four hundred.

The separatist forces numbered at least a hundred ships in orbit, and three hundred more were on the surface, taking millions and millions of battle droids of various brands into their holds -from the simplest B-1 to the formidable droidekas.

The battle in space was fierce. The Trade Federation's fleet, mainly represented by Baryshnik-type base ships that "distinguished themselves" during the blockade of Naboo, put up strong resistance. Especially those that have been upgraded, increasing their firepower by installing additional turbolasers by installing more powerful reactors. Such vessels were a formidable force. However, the Republic navy, having lost fourteen Approving ships and sixteen frigates, was able to perform a near miracle and destroy eighty-three ships, of which seventy-three belonged to the Trade Federation. The ground forces, having overcome the resistance of hundreds of thousands of battle droids, managed to destroy about a hundred more transport ships. But half of them managed to get away with full holds - the captains dragged on to the last.

Ground troops lost hundreds of armored vehicles. In twelve hours, the GAR forces lost twelve thousand clones killed, and another eight thousand were injured. There were not enough medical ships, and the wounded were loaded onto the Approving ships that landed on the surface of the planet.

Yes. Losses. Sadness settled like a nagging pain in the magister's soul. It's been a long, long time since the Order lost so many Jedi.... The death of each was felt in the Force, and worse, they merged into one continuous series of pain and suffering. Two hundred and twelve Jedi went on a rescue mission: magisters, masters, knights and Padawans. Most of them were killed. A member of the Council - vurk Coleman Trebor, died: trying to attack Count Dooku, he was shot by a mercenary named Jango Fett. Only a few managed to survive - only twenty Jedi left the arena. There were too many battle droids. The Jedi weren't ready for this, not at all.

Count Dooku managed to escape. Obi-Wan Kenobi, along with his Padawan Anakin Skywalker, failed to stop him. They chased him to a secret hangar hidden in the rocks. He was too good at fencing. The young padawan was too reckless. The master's skill could not overcome the power of the former padawan of Grand Master Yoda himself. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Skywalker would have been killed, but the intervention of the sensed Master Yoda saved the lives of these two; both were seriously injured - Skywalker lost an arm, Obi-Wan escaped with wounds on his shoulder and leg.

The Merchant Federation ships managed to escape. Many were battered, but under the cover of numerous Vulture fighter droids, they disappeared into hyperspace. Losses among the Republic's pilots numbered in the dozens. Although the Jedi pilots performed better on their Delta-7 fighters, shooting down one hundred and seventy Vultures out of eight...

***

While the woman was in thought, going over the events in her memory, which, apparently, had already irreversibly changed the galaxy, although not many in it understood it yet, the voices of clones could be heard here and there over the battlefield:

"Over here! There's a wounded man here!"

"The evacuation transport is here! There are two people here!"

Togruta was passing near the carcass of a walking tank, which had been mangled by the explosion, when she heard a faint groan. Looking back, she saw a figure in clone armor moving under the rubble. Turning to the nearest medics, Jedika exclaimed:

"Over here!"

A pair of clone orderlies hurried over to her. Deftly peeling back a couple of sheets of armor, they took out a clone, apparently the platoon commander, as indicated by the markings on the armor.

"Brother, are you okay?" One of the paramedics leaned over to him.

"Yes, but my head is buzzing. We were not lightly applied. The walker's ammunition exploded, along with the reactor," The lieutenant sat up with difficulty, leaning on both hands.

Looking around, he said.

"Where's the Jedi?"

"Which one?" The orderly looked around.

"Well, the one that led us into battle. He also had a wound on his chest," the officer explained.

Shaak Ti remembered. The young, smiling Jedi knight who flew with them on the gunboat. Closing her eyes, the magister concentrated, and, reaching out with the Force, she felt a faint pulse of life.

"There, under the rubble," Togruta pointed out.

Summoning a passing squad of infantrymen, the clones joined forces and deftly scattered the rubble. There was another clone underneath, and a man in a Jedi robe. Leaning over the clone, the medic ran a scanner over it and shook his head negatively.

"This one is ready," then he turned to the Jedi's body.

He looked like hell. Covered in dust and soot. There was a wound on his chest, a couple of burns on his arms and legs, his clothes were in complete disrepair, and his hair was burned off. The eyebrows also disappeared. Shaak Ti did not immediately recognize him as her traveling companion.

The scanner beeped happily.

"This one's still alive," the clone said, and shook his head. With such wounds, a man should have died, but the Jedi miraculously remained in this world.

"Get him to the medical frigate immediately!" The magister ordered. For the sake of such a case, it was possible to detach transport, even for one, but the number of victims demanded that day from those who arrived from the Temple would decrease.

"Yes, ma'am," two clones, having loaded the Jedi onto a stretcher, expertly trotted towards the med-transporter, which is a version of the BARK motorcycle speeder without weapons, equipped with two attachment points on the sides of the stretcher, allowing to transport two lying wounded at once at a fairly high speed - up to four hundred kilometers per hour. This allowed the wounded to be transported from the battlefield in record time. Often, every extra minute could cost a life, and the clones did not neglect these minutes. They tried not to abandon their own, the clones have excellent mutual assistance, they pick up all the wounded and, if possible, collect the bodies of the dead to send to Kamino. There were a lot of wounded, so some of them were loaded onto landing ships.

***

I woke up at the moment when the medical droid was examining me on the ship. Well, basically, there hasn't been a fight as such for several hours. The Neimoidians and other "aliens" left on their "Profiteers" in an unknown direction, taking a bunch of droids. The Geonosians had retreated into their catacombs, and no one wanted to go there. Clone commandos laid charges to blow up droid factories. A fortified base was being built on the planet - a garrison was to remain in it. The rest were due to leave for Coruscant soon.

All this was told to me by a rather sociable surgical droid, patching my wounds at a rapid pace, pouring bacta over them and applying healing bandages that sealed my entire chest, partially my arms and legs. There was even a bandage on his forehead. It will be scary to approach the mirror, just like a mummy. I didn't feel any pain, just a slight itching and burning sensation. The droid obviously injected me with something.

After work, having happily rung something life-affirming in binary, he ordered two clones to carry me to the ward. Apparently, he still had a lot of work ahead of him.

There were not enough medical vehicles, and I, like many other wounded people, was sent to one of the "Approving" ones. It turned out to be the flagship, and the surviving Jedi, led by Master Yoda, gathered on it. Right now, he and the magisters from the Council were in session discussing some of their business, but to be honest, I wasn't particularly interested in what they were talking about. Senator Amidala was also here. I soon realized what she was doing here. Well, of course.

Very few survived the rescue operation, and of those who survived, those seriously injured enough to be placed in a "hospital" could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Therefore, it was not surprising that I was placed in one of the cabins, hastily converted into a common room, where, drumbeat, Kenobi and Skywalker turned out to be my neighbors. The latter, lying on a cot with a bandaged stump, cursed in twelve languages, including Hutt dialects, Toydari, and even binary. I respect, there's nothing to say. Apparently, the guy was seriously fucked up. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, remained silent. Judging by his face, the Jedi was "tormented by vague doubts." As far as I remember, Dooku puzzled him with information about Darth Sidious and his influence on the Senate. Apparently, Obi-Wan's thoughts were about whether this was true or false. And I had a lot to think about.

***

The heat of battle passed, the adrenaline in the blood dissolved, and a quiet panic set in. The age-old questions- "What should I do?", "Who is to blame?" - rose up in front of me in full growth. Right now, realizing the depth of the ass I was in, I was in deep prostration.

I wonder what I did to deserve my "popadanstvo"? Or are the stars just that way? It doesn't matter. As far as I understand, I am clearly not destined to return. We'll have to get out of here somehow.

The Hutt FAFAG with its clone wars, dogmatic Jedi, corrupt senate, Sith combinator and all its charms - lawlessness, drugs and slavery. And in all this shit, it's me, Mikore Vict.

Okay, calm down! You're a Jedi or a wimp! Calmly, inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale.

That's right. I need to calm down and put everything in order. We are thinking how my "earthly" self can help me.

First of all, it turns out that in practical terms, I can't bring anything new - the culture and technology here are orders of magnitude superior to everything that I had in my homeland. The only thing that might be useful is my knowledge of history, because it tends to repeat itself. In general, I specialized more in the Middle East, Central Asia. I still had some basic theoretical principles of warfare in my memory, at least based on the example of ancient battles. Well, I also remember the battle charts in the school history textbook - all those blue and red arrows and squares. Moreover, over time, humanity only changed weapons and tactics, but the strategy was almost unchanged. That's basically my entire body of knowledge.

Now let's check my Jedi memory. Well, that's what we have his. Meditations, some ideas about politics (shit, shit) thanks to teacher Artaud, I know a little about local technology - nothing outstanding, just the general education level of the Temple, that is, I won't design a yacht, but I should be able to fix local analogues of Zhiguli with a tambourine and pliers. I know about FAFAG wars because the mentors said something there a long time ago, but it flew into one ear and flew out the other.

That's basically it.

Oh, right, I also know that the war will last three years, and then the Emperor will issue the sixty-sixth emergency order, and all the Jedi will have fun... fucking...

Okay, calm down. Put aside the panic. Think about what you're going to do, Jedi, and how you're going to survive in all this guano. As one of our teachers used to say: "Divide the problem into its components, and solve them one at a time. Perhaps by solving some of them, you will turn other parts to your advantage. Well, or you'll find new problems, as long as you're lucky." I hope to be lucky.

Let's consider possible options for my actions.

The first option. Let's call it "Laziness". We don't do anything, we follow the canon, as a result - either I die in the war, or - order sixty-six. Definitely not.

The second option. "The Prophet." Running around shouting "I know everything, Sith Chancellor." It's tempting, but who's going to believe me right away? Plus, they can get slapped in the process - don't go to a fortune teller. I read somewhere that Sidious has almost a third of the criminal world of the galaxy in his pocket and he is tightly tied to the financial system, like his teacher crushed his Banking Clan, and the student, accordingly, did not hesitate to inherit. And what's stopping Palpatine from announcing order sixty-six right now, when a bunch of clones are on Coruscant? It's nothing. Moreover, in the canon, four Jedi masters came to arrest him, including Kit Fisto and Mace Windu himself. Yes, not romantics who have rusted in the peaceful air, but seasoned by the three-year war, seasoned wolves, if they managed to lose their shape somewhere, it was only in their dreams of a happy old age. And Sidious almost crushed them all. And later, even Yoda couldn't handle him alone. Either Palpatine is strong, or the Jedi have softened over the millennia since the Order's fighting backbone died on Ruusan. Discard it.

The third option. "Get on your feet." Escape and hide far away, preferably in Unknown Regions, for reliability. Obviously not a ride. If the Jedi don't find it, then the separatists, not the separatists, then Vader will find it and chop it into small pieces. How many Jedi are there in the galaxy right now? Well, there are definitely tens of thousands. And how many of them survived before Luke left Tatooine? A dozen pieces? Statistics, however. Or even the Vong will show up, if I live to see them. Well, how long before their invasion? It is now the twenty-second year before the Battle of Yavin, they will arrive in the twenty-first year after the battle. In total, only some forty years. Well, what the fuck do I have to enjoy in my old age? Br-R. Definitely not.

The fourth option. "Maybe we can evolve into waterfowl in a quick way?" That is, to become a Sith. Laugh at the chickens. I'm stuck... S-chaz! Just like Darth Revan's holocron, I'll find the ghost of Marky Ragnos and talk him into becoming a teacher, yeah. But Darth Sidious clearly doesn't need competitors without these tricks. After all, Bane's rule is-although he seems to have already come to the idea of his inferiority. He'll find it and finish it off with a special passion. Or Vader will strangle me. I'm not particularly attracted to Power at all - yes, it's a cool thing, but there are more interesting things in the Far, Far Away.

Damn, wherever you throw it, there's a wedge everywhere. Think, Miko, think, your head is designed for this.

As a result, I came to the following conclusions: in order not to die, you need to become a significant figure, which will be unprofitable for either the Jedi or Palpatine, after all, people from former Jedi were recruited to the same imperial Inquisitorium - people actively went there, many were transported to Biss on special prison ships. And the upcoming war will give many Jedi the opportunity to advance as commanders. We need to be one of them. Then, having gained fame, you need to enlist the support of some significant figure, preferably from the Senate (although, hand on heart, I responsibly declare that finding someone normal there is simply epic). Senator Chuchi's name flashed through my mind and disappeared. Then we have to get around the sixty-sixth order somehow. There's a special problem with this, but time is running out, I'll come up with something.

Besides, you need to improve as a Jedi. Train and train again. Naturally, I won't get to the level of the same Skywalker, not to mention Yoda and Palpatine, but... I might make a good average guy. Probably.

Slowly, a plan began to form in my head. After learning that we were going to Coruscant, which would take fifteen hours to reach, * (see footnote.- Approx. Author), I decided to take a nap and let the wounds heal. And when else will there be such an opportunity in the near future? The days ahead of me are obviously going to be very stressful.

***

Meanwhile, a meeting of the Jedi Council was taking place at the command post of the flagship Approving. Thoughtful and silent, Yoda listened attentively to Mace Windu's report. ...

"A special clone squad infiltrated the arena, collected all the bodies of the Jedi and brought them aboard the cruiser. The death of Magister Trebor has been confirmed," Windu's stony face showed no emotion. "We screwed up. If not for the timely help of the clone army, hardly anyone would have left this arena alive. Magisters, knights, Padawans... almost two hundred Jedi died," The magister did not give vent to his feelings for a moment.

"How are Kenobi and Skywalker?" Ki Adi Mundi asked. "I heard they suffered a lot at the hands of Count Dooku."

"Their pride suffered more than they did. Skywalker will need a prosthetic arm," Shaak Ti replied.

"My former padawan has become strong. I felt the dark side of the Force in him," Yoda said, closing his eyes.

Turning her gaze to Yoda, Shaak Ti asked:

"There's one Jedi I'm interested in. He survived the fight in the arena, but was seriously injured. Mikore Vict. To my shame, I hadn't seen him before."

"Hmm," Yoda thought about it. "This is a young Jedi from the Balance Corps. A disciple of the knight of Nhon. What's your interest in, mm?"

"He's not very strong, but somehow he attracted me. Interested."

Magister Yoda was silent for a while, immersed in meditation.

"He walked along the edge of life. Doubts torment him."

"Just like all of us now," Shaak Ti bowed her head.

***

I woke up about two hours before the ships came out of hyper. My wounds were back to normal, but I wasn't going to take off my bandages yet. From sin.

After thinking about yesterday's events with a fresh mind, I finally approved the action plan.

The first point in it was to find something... to devour. And what do you want, I haven't eaten or drunk anything for almost a day.

I slowly got up from my bunk. I was a little shaky, but nothing, I won't fall apart. Looking at Skywalker, who was snuffling in his sleep, he mentally asked for his forgiveness three times. You will never see Ahsoka Tano as a padawan, Skywalker. I'll keep this shot for myself. Having such a student, the Chosen One, although he taught her something, did not reveal her potential, in my opinion, and then completely missed her.

Having found out the way to the dining room from the nearest clone, he slowly hobbled along the wall in the indicated direction. Still, this "Endorser" is a hefty piece of crap - a kind of wedge seven hundred by four hundred meters. Sixteen thousand troops fit, after all. By the time I got to the canteen, at least twenty minutes had passed.

The room was full of people. That is, clones. Standing in a small queue, I received a tray with a snack and headed to the nearest empty seat. As I sat down, I felt the gaze of one of the clones on me.

I was surprised to realize that I recognized him. Well, of course, they all look the same, but somehow I could tell them apart. Another greeting from the Force, no other way.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

"Sir," he nodded, and after a short pause, asked: "And how did you recognize me?"

There was surprise in his voice. Some of the clones were listening to our conversation.

"I remember you, Lieutenant. We went into battle together."

"But how did you manage? We're all the same."

"No, Lieutenant. You are different. I'm telling you this as a Jedi," Then I started eating.

Throwing in a multicolored mess from a tray (I don't even want to know what it's made of), I mentally scrolled through the plan of action.

As I recall, the main clone forces are now arriving on Coruscant. From there, after Chancellor Palpatine approves the Jedi to the rank of generals, they will travel to all corners of the galaxy in a couple of days. Well, theoretically. Surely they won't wait for the KNS to come to its senses and strike at completely uncovered borders?

Although I don't particularly like Palpatine as a Sith, he was pretty good as a future Emperor. It's like with Stalin: he seems to have led repressions and won the Great War - you can dislike him, but you can't disrespect him.

If it hadn't been for the extraordinary powers Palpatine had clawed out of the Senate (I can't believe he managed to pull it off, apparently it cost a lot of money and nerves), the senators would have sat in their hutt speakership until the very moment when the battle droids would have stormed into the Senate building.

If I remember the plot of the animated series correctly and if it even slightly coincides with reality, then the first skirmishes and attacks will begin about three days after the battle of Geonosis, and by the end of the month the war will be raging across the Galaxy. That means I won't have much time. There's a maximum of seventy-two hours for everything. It's sparse.

First of all, you need to visit the Archives, if not look there, then at least download some information on the wars of antiquity. But how else? I'm a strategist and tactician, like a wolfhound from a toy terrier, and there's nothing like academies around, even in my recipient's memory. And so at least you can learn something from real examples. I hope...

Then you need to find Yunling Tano, and make her your padawan. I think she won't refuse. As far as I remember, she's almost fourteen now, although padawans are usually dismantled by the age of thirteen, but because of her bad temper and short temper, everyone somehow avoided her. That's why she was nervous. She should fall for my offer.

Oh, you shouldn't have done that, gentlemen of the Jedi, oh, you shouldn't. She has a huge talent. And I just want to try to keep her alive. Yes, and actually, she will help me in the same way. There's no guarantee that I won't run into Grievous or Ventress or some other dark acolyte during the war. And Ahsoka, at least, can compete with them in the art of swordsmanship. Well, potentially... someday. Although even now, I think she can show a couple of tricks, it seems that she met Ventress for the first time right after the Temple and survived.

***

The ships are finally out of hyper. Coruscant lies below us.

Well, what can I say. You have to see that. Coruscant is the capital of the Galactic Republic.

A planet is a city with a population exceeding one trillion inhabitants. A city that has been the political center of the galaxy for thousands of years. Looking at the view from the portholes, I realized only now that my life had changed dramatically. Well, fate, I accept your challenge.

***

Shortly after our arrival, we, that is, the Jedi and Senator Amidala, boarded a shuttle and went to the Jedi Temple....


I. Part One. Chapter 3.


Do you want to make God laugh?

Tell him about your plans.

(national).

***

The shuttle, accompanied by four gunboats, landed on one of the landing pads in front of the Jedi Temple. During the flight, I sat quietly in my chair and did not shine. From sin. And, actually, no one cared about me. Yoda and Windu were silent, Amidala was whispering with Anakin, Obi-Wan was dozing, or meditating. The other Jedi were also busy with their own affairs, trying not to show their concern.

Well, what can I say?.. Yeah. They know how to build here. With a flourish. I don't remember who took care of this Temple here, but he was clearly not limited in funds. Yes, the area in front of the Temple is so large that it can easily accommodate about six "Approving" people. And the Temple itself occupies an area of about ten square kilometers. Its four-kilometer spires alone are worth something.

The magisters went about their business decorously. They were joined by some of the Temple's mentors and teachers, probably those who had been admitted to the Order's politics. Skywalker, along with Obi-Wan, sent his feet to the medical wing, clearly in a hurry to get a prosthetic. Here it's a matter of a couple of hours. Amidala will most likely go to the Senate (naturally, changing her outfit and powdering her nose - where without it). As far as I remember, Padme, accompanied by Anakin, will leave on a yacht to Naboo, where they will secretly get married. Conspirators, damn it.

All in all, I was left alone on the landing pad. No one came out to meet us, the escort clones with the transport left for their places of deployment, the summer sun was hot on top of my head and peace and grace settled around me, as if nothing had happened. I chuckled. You don't know the latest news yet.

***

As I walked through the Jedi Temple, images of this body's past, which has now become mine, flashed through my head like a kaleidoscope: here I enter the temple for the first time; together with other Younglings, I listen to a teacher telling about the history of the Jedi Order; for the first time I pick up a lightsaber - a training sword, true, but still; This is my first time fighting a mock battle; I'm discussing with my friends what kind of sword I want to assemble. Yes. A lot of memories are connected with this place. Unsurprisingly, many Jedi consider it their home.

To begin with, I directed my steps to the technical and economic department, colloquially referred to as the warehouse. I had to get my hands on some useful household items before the whole Order took care of it and there was a choice, besides, it was worth updating the wardrobe. I had no problems identifying the road - my memory helpfully pointed the way I needed. Slowly (let the wounds heal properly, and it's kind of inconvenient to run around here) walking down the corridor, he silently bowed to the Jedi he met. They nodded automatically and noticed my bandaged carcass. Some even stopped to watch me go.

"Wait a minute, Miko! Wait, I'm telling who!" Suddenly, an angry female voice rang out from behind. A vaguely familiar voice. I turned around. Zio Kad'ishi was approaching me at a fast pace, as it immediately came to mind, a Devaron and my former classmate. She looked almost like a human woman, the differences were two dark "bumps" of horns on her forehead and the presence of hair on her ears, such tassels like a lynx, and her facial features were a little harsh. We got to the Jedi Temple almost at the same time. A very domineering person, she always built everyone as she wanted. Well, it's not surprising, as far as I know, they have a matriarchy on the planet.

Next came Sleet Cavendish, a melancholic Rodian guy, another friend and acquaintance of mine. Like almost all Rodians, he was green with large faceted eyes, tube ears, and an elongated mouth. Fortunately, I had already gotten used to my memory, and my body had been used to such a neighborhood since I was a baby, so there were no unpleasant excesses from a close encounter with a representative of such a different race from humans.

A few steps away from me, Zio slowed down, seeing my outfit and "heroic" wounds. After that, without ceremony, she dragged me to the nearest dead end niche. I didn't try to resist - it's easier to get a rancor to dance a yutabi than to convince this self-confident lady.

"Tell me!" Devaronka put her hands on her hips, barely managing to pin me against the wall. "We just got back, and the Temple is half empty! You're not here and no one knows anything, and then all sorts of rumors started spreading, one worse than the other! You were there, so spit it out. Where did you all go, why did so few of you come back, and what happened at all? And who are these strange soldiers?"

"Yes, my friend. You have to tell us everything", Cavendish fixed his eyes on me in agreement.

Sighing, I briefly told them the gist of recent events. Of course, without dangerous revelations about things that I shouldn't know in principle, just a vision from the position of my predecessor. Like, anyway, nothing foreshadowed, then an excited Windu jumped in, gathered almost all the adult Jedi who happened to be in the Temple, gave a short speech on the topic of saving his own and protecting the Republic, drove everyone into transport, and so on, right up to the battle for Geonosis.

"What's going to happen now?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"War."

"This is outrageous! The Jedi are guardians of peace in the Galaxy, not soldiers. We must keep this world in balance, and not unleash conflicts. I'm not going to let this go!"

"And what will you do?" what's happening is starting to bother me. Well, a little more than having to answer to someone I only know from someone else's memory. No, it's clear that this is a necessity and there's no getting away from it, and they seem to be good guys, but... in general, her rhetoric bothered me.

"If the Order does not stop its policy of pandering to the Senate, we will have no choice but to leave the Order in protest!" The girl said hotly. "This is the wisest and most correct decision."

The Rodian nodded in agreement.

"The Jedi Council is acting recklessly. Such a policy harms the ideals of the Jedi Order. We have to leave."

Damn it... I completely forgot that after Geonosis, some of the Jedi left the Order, disagreeing with its policies. Almost a thousand, or even more, went into exile, not wanting to fight. Are these my friends from the so-called outcasts or something? And they want to drag me into it too?

"We?" I stopped liking what was happening at all.

"Aren't you coming with us???"

I shook my head no.

"No. You know, the war cannot be canceled. So, I have no choice but to try...."

"A brainless and blind Bantu!" The devaron woman indignantly poked me in the chest with her finger, literally pinning me with a burning look, as if I had spat into her soul. That's who you are! Are you following the advice? Aren't your wounds enough for you? Do you want to die defending the ideals of this rotten Republic? Let it be so!"

The girl abruptly turned her back on me, glared at me with one last angry look, and ran off down the corridor at a fast pace.

"Think, Miko. Your path is only your path" Sleet sighed sadly, then went to catch up with Zio.

"That's the time..." that's all I could get out of myself. What happened threw me a little out of my rut.

Sorry. Judging by my recollections, they are, in general, really good guys. We were really close friends during our studies. Memories of this... They kept me warm. Even though I knew they weren't really mine, but... sorry. I can't help you. Even if I tell you everything, you just won't believe it. My path is only my path.

***

Absorbed in my thoughts, I finally reached the warehouse. I'll tell you honestly - Ali Baba's cave is resting. The warehouses were huge. No. Not like that. HUGE ONES. Thousands of square meters. Hundreds and hundreds of shelves. Dozens of different containers and bags.

It's worth explaining something. The specifics of the Order do not allow Jedi to own personal property, but at the same time, any Jedi can come to this warehouse and receive any item for free. Naturally, having constructively justified this need. That is, let's say you can't just get a frigate here, but as for clothes or any other consumables, it's simple. Within reasonable limits, again.

"What brings you to us, knight?" the Toydarian warehouse manager, who clearly belongs to the hired staff, greeted me with a nasal accent. In general, the Order often used them, hired workers in the sense if they possessed certain talents. This one clearly upgraded the hamster and toad to the eightieth level, no doubt. Judging by the condition of the warehouse. I began to outline my requests.

By itself, the Balance Corps, where my predecessor was a member, does not involve frequent absences from the Temple, because Miko had practically nothing necessary for life in isolation from civilization, not to mention the conditions of military operations, in the bins. I wanted to live, and preferably not too little. Therefore, it is not surprising that as the items were listed, the storekeeper clicked his teeth in surprise and with a degree of respect. When I finished, he whistled:

"However, it's been a while since anyone approached me with such an interesting list. Let's see how I can help you."

Clicking the keys on the terminal, the storekeeper sent a couple of droids somewhere deep into the warehouse. Then, flying on his wings to the nearest shelf, he returned with a bundle, and headed back to the shelves.

First of all, he laid out a set of clothes and a raincoat on the counter. I have no doubt that everything is exactly the right size. He was followed by six YR-2P12 training droids. A pair of practice swords. A medium-power comlink combined with a holoprojector. A dozen empty holo disks. A pair of standard batteries for the sword. A certain amount of rare metals and standard components for creating a sword. A roomy backpack. A small set of "survival" - so, nothing serious - a couple of briquettes of dry rations, a desalination device, a universal breathing apparatus, a coil of durable cable.

"But about the armor, I have to clarify - which one do you need?" Once again, the quartermaster turned away from the screen and glanced at me expressively.

"Well, probably not too bulky, so as not to restrict movement, but if anything, it should somehow protect, at least from blaster shots. Are there any options?"

"Oh yeah. This product, so to speak, is not very popular with the Jedi, yes. In fact, you're the first person to apply for it in the last twenty years. Although I have about seven thousand sets of various armor in stock," the Toydarian proudly announced.

"I think I'll leave the choice up to you." I replied diplomatically.

"You know," the storekeeper chuckled, rubbing his chin with his hand and looking me over, "I have something interesting for you."

Clicking a couple of keys, he brought up an image of an unusual armor on the projector. I'd seen one before, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember where.

"It's not power armor, of course, and it's not a Mandalorian бескар'гам, but it's the best option for you."

"Oh, what kind of armor is that?" I asked.

"Oh, that's a pretty good replica of one of the antique armors", There was a hint of self-satisfaction in the Toydarian's voice. This armor was produced by a private company about seven hundred years ago for the army of one of the planets. I don't know exactly what happened there, but some of the armor came to us as a trophy. In general, this model was quite popular at one time. The helmet has been redesigned and is more comfortable than the original one. I've got a dozen of them under conservation. It's easier with helmets, your brother doesn't use them, so they're in their original packaging. Back then, they still knew how to do high-quality work, yes ... - the storekeeper respectfully blew the last sound and looked thoughtfully at something on the monitor, clearly moving the cursor. What else is there, yeah! So, the armor plates are durasteel, coated with cortosis, however, only chest plates and bracers. The lining is made of fabric armor, a more than common material that can disperse a few not too strong blaster hits and deflect a couple of lightsaber strikes, you know. The design is designed just for humanoids and does not restrict movement, even with your jumps and other acrobatics. A medium-range comlink and a soundboard are built into the armor, somewhere on your hands you need to look. There is also a compact shield generator, but this model has been outdated for three hundred years: it provides protection only from energy weapons, besides the operating time is limited to thirty seconds. After that, it takes at least half an hour to charge the storage cells. Although we also need to look at them, maybe we'll have to change them," the quartermaster finished his monologue and looked at me expectantly.

Yeah, he rolled up his lip. This armor isn't that bad, though.

"No, don't think about it!" the interlocutor understood my facial expression in his own way. "I have newer things, but they won't suit you, the Jedi, well, after the first training session, you'll come to change them, or you'll sit down to redo them. The ergonomics of the elements is not the same: either the joints are tight, or the arms cannot be lifted because of the plates, trust old Rolfo: what do I not know, what kind of plug do your training droids have with a degree of limb freedom? By the time you find a suitable pair of hinges, you'll have drained seven pots into a jar. And the Temple has not ordered armor specifically for itself for a thousand years."

"Okay, I think I'll take it" am I an idiot to refuse protection, even like this?

I hope she helps you, knight....

***

I came out of the warehouses in high spirits. We found the armor, carried out a technical inspection, and with the help of such a mother and several droids, we were able to put it in order. The filling really had to be changed by almost half, but I already told you about the size of the warehouse - we managed. With the help of the same cunning Toydarian, I put on the armor. In principle, she didn't weigh that much- about fifteen kilograms. It's a little unusual, but nothing. Hard in training, easy in battle. The armor did not restrict movement at all, and was only a little too big, but it did not matter. The armor systems were controlled via commands from the helmet, plus a holographic deck built into the bracers, and for the Jedi there was a way to control with the Force - well, press a couple of buttons with telekinesis - even a youngling could handle that. And I can survive a weak generator somehow. I'm not going to pretend to be a droideka, am I? I put everything else in my backpack and headed for the inner sanctum. To the Archives.

***

Yeah, the great Archives... Yes, this array of information cannot be digested in a thousand years! Yes, it's cooler than Chomolungma!

For one of my "Battles" requests, such a mess was issued that even a wolf howled. Well, why would I want to describe a war between two tribes of some aborigines on some seedy planet that happened thousands of years ago??? Somehow concentrating, I began to highlight more or less familiar information on the main conflicts of the past years - and it all started almost with a rackat. Although no, I'm lying, there are records in an ancient way. I was going to not only view the information I received, but also copy it onto holos for further thoughtful reflection.

Actually, on a cursory glance, I got the impression that either I didn't understand something, or the commanders of ancient times were terrible geniuses.

According to the articles, ninety percent of major galactic conflicts were resolved by some cunning maneuver and necessarily by the complete and unconditional collapse of the forces of "Evil." Well, or "Good", here's how the card will fit. There were practically no cases of peace, revision of some borders and further coexistence. The same Republic has always had the strength not only to defeat, but also to completely suppress the enemy, seize its territories and clean them up, destroying all resistance. And it sometimes looked very wild. Seriously, how can you capture a space comparable to your own state if you have only a fifth of the pre-war army and navy left? You have to be either a genius or...

Or have a cheat, in the form of a loyal Order of the gifted, ready to tear their veins just to "eradicate Evil once and for all"...

Some semblance of common sense was observed only in the Mandalorian Wars and the New Sith Wars, and even there in the archives the emphasis was on the actions of the gifted, and ordinary soldiers, it feels like they didn't decide anything except for very elite pros like Shay Vizla, who later became Mandalore the Avenger, but I repeat, they focused on individual skill and tradition, not cohesion and tactics.

Ordinary soldiers were meat, as in the case of the Republic (dying under loud slogans), they were a militia from the world to the thread, from the forest to the pine, armed with all sorts of shit, or even artificially bred-created (like the Sith fusion), or even just droids - these were not considered at all.

So, the Mandolorians had the Republic as they wanted, but after the intervention of the Jedi (led by Revan), a wild mess began, as a result of which the Mandolorians were defeated.

Yes, and the same Revan - he merged dozens of ships under Malakor V - as a result, victory, but the planet, after using another wonderwafly called the "Gravitational Shadow Generator", turned into a graveyard world. The Sith have no luck on uberwaff. Or, for example, Ruusan and everything that happened after him is nonsense of epic proportions. In my opinion, the Sith made the biggest strategic mistake of the entire war by allowing their forces to be drawn into the battle of Ruusan. Before him, the Sith, again, had Jedi as they wanted and where they wanted, but...

Since the first volleys of the battle of Ruusan, the initiative has completely passed to the talented Republic Jedi warlord Lord Hoth. The Republic suffered terrible losses. But in this case, the end justified the means. There is no doubt that it was the actions of Hoth and his generals that saved Coruscant, and with it the entire Republic. Although, in general, this shabby Ruusan had no strategic use, both sides were fighting like crazy for this piece of stone. A long-term positional war has begun on the planet. Well, it's a long time, by the standards of local realities, a long time.

At this time, the warships, time after time, converged in linear battles in the orbit of Ruusan and throughout the entire star system. The skies were ablaze, starships were exploding, taking the lives of thousands of people and non-people overnight, showering debris on those fighting on the surface. Landing craft and supply vessels from both sides often missed their targets. It was a complete mess. Hundreds of Jedi, Sith and soldiers of their armies sometimes did not even have time to land, dying in low orbit or in the atmosphere of the planet.

As a result, the Main Sith Kaan went completely insane on the grounds of the extermination of the Jedi, and staged an all-out gamer. Well, how about you create a Mental Bomb and destroy all your followers and enemies? Of all the Sith, two survived. Two of them!

Naturally, the Republic and the Jedi won, and they happily disbanded the army and navy, saying the Sith were destroyed once and for all. The morons. Although all power was in the hands of the Jedi, even the chancellor could only be a Jedi, but after Ruusan, everything changed....

The Jedi rejected the principles of warrior knights, and became guardians of the world. Power in the Republic passed to the Senate and the elected Chancellor. The army and navy were disbanded. There was a pathetic stub left in the form of the Justice Corps. And so it went on for almost a thousand years.

All the other conflicts didn't deserve attention at all. Except for Stark's Hyperspace War, and then only by ship maneuvers and the very cause of the conflict.

After that, a lot of technology has advanced. But not in tactics. Perhaps if the army of the Republic had not been disbanded, there would have been some kind of officer school where all these battles would have been studied and analyzed. There would be at least some instructions and rules, but alas. Moreover, I did not find any instructions even from the time before the Russan reform. And when I searched for the "Charter of the Republic", I got something painfully reminiscent of the instructions for using a microwave oven for American kettles, well, of those where almost half of the text are paragraphs like "it is forbidden to dry cats in a microwave oven." The only difference is that instead of a microwave oven, there were names of different models of equipment, as it is not difficult to guess, which have long been obsolete.

Nevertheless, I've been going through more and more documents, reports, descriptions, and book excerpts. They were often in languages unknown to me, but the built-in translator somehow conveyed to me the meaning of what was written.

Hell, thousands of years ago, even the Hutts, those lumps of fat weighing a ton, had their own army in armor! And they fought successfully, by the way. What can't be said about today's times: they can only rely on mercenaries.... No, I think there's only one Hutt Jedi living right now.

The droid uprisings were of little interest, but they mostly ended with the same intervention of the Jedi - they flew in, cut out the main troublemakers with pinpoint strikes, and the uprisings choked on that. No tactics, no strategy.

Well, I decided to get knowledge... great Archives. I thought I'd come like this, learn secret knowledge, and become a brilliant commander. Yeah, right now. He ran away. Kenobi's phrase comes to mind: "Maybe the archives are incomplete?" Apparently, you'll have to get out on your own. No, you can catch some grains of truth, but you have to think long and hard. However, that's why I took the holos - we'll read and analyze them during breaks.... But I still need to find out what is expected of me, but there should still be breaks, I don't have to run around the clock....

Feeling that his head was already swollen from trying to wade through the hodgepodge of dates, names and geographical names, trying in vain to fish out the dry, stating facts (They came. That's how many fights we've had. We won.) After a few lines, at least some clear descriptions of the tactics of the parties, I decided to take a break and look for information about Strength techniques and the development of sword fighting techniques. Looking through the numerous instructions and descriptions, I eventually came to the conclusion that the ideal option would be to study the third form, Soresu, ideal for deflecting blaster shots and numerous weak opponents. What the doctor ordered.

And the fact that this is an exclusively defensive form of combat doesn't bother me at all. No more full-length saber attacks at a gallop. No, thanks, it was enough for me once. Well, okay, let's not be sad, I'll also copy this information to the holodisks. I hope I'll have time to study it all. Immersed in a lengthy treatise by some ancient Jedi, I fell out of reality....

***

Wearily falling away from the projector, I stretched my slightly stiff arms and legs, and only then did I glance at the time indicator hanging on the wall. Wow, I've wasted seventeen hours here. Well, yes. That's what Jedi politeness means-if they see that you don't care about them, then they won't bother you much.

After leaving the Archives, I trudged to the wing where the dormitories were located, cubicles used by the Jedi for meditation and solitude. I should have rested my head, which was buzzing with information, then picked up the training droids from Rolfo in the morning and, indeed, arranged for myself to train in armor, just to assess the level of capabilities, after which there are several more cases where I will need to communicate with the local administration, oh...

With my last strength, I dragged myself to the bunk, as I was in armor, and collapsed on the mat and passed out. Tomorrow was going to be another difficult day.

***

Oh, if it weren't for my meditation practice, my body would definitely go numb, but it's okay, it's bearable. Having finally opened my eyes, I hastily washed my face and had a snack with a briquette of something from a dry ration. Something told me I should hurry up. Clearly the machinations of Power. I'd rather believe her....

Having difficulty remembering the way (my memory almost gave up, after all, it was a long time ago), I went to the Tower in which the Council of Definitions "lived". They were in charge of distributing younglings to teachers. Well, as they were doing, usually a Jedi would come there and say that he was taking such a youngster as his padawan. In most cases, the Jedi's decision was not disputed - it was believed that he knew better, because the Council believed that the teacher and the student should bring the Force together. Those Younglings who were not chosen as padawans were usually assigned to the Agro Corps.

Well, in exceptional cases, such as with Anakin Skywalker and Rama Kotoy, the decision was made by the Supreme Council. The usual cases were routine, designed more to put a decision on the list (so as not to stupidly lose sight of the person, not otherwise). Taking a high-speed elevator up, I entered a small oval room where a lone Jedi woman was sitting. Her memory had briefly failed to identify her race as Kodiank.

"Dear..."

"Ntorra Ailio is my name, knight..."

"Mikore Vict. I'm glad to meet you."

"Choosing a padawan brought you here, didn't it?"

"You're completely right, Master Ailio," but why would a Jedi come here?

"What is the name of your student?"

"Ahsoka Tano, togruta."

"Oh, I remember when I was a Youngling. She often acts impulsively and is prone to emotions. Of her stream, only a couple of Younglings remained, who were not chosen as padawans. Are you sure about your choice?"

"Yes, the Force says that," I know I'm not lying childishly, but it should work.

The master closed her eyes.

"Well, so be it. I hope she becomes a worthy Jedi. I'll arrange everything accordingly. You can go now."

***

Ahsoka silently practiced her set of punches, even though a storm was raging in her soul. She couldn't figure out why she was still a Yongling. Many of her acquaintances have already become padawans. Many were chosen by the teachers themselves, and some had the courage to ask the Jedi to become their teachers. But no one wanted to take her. But she's capable! She even collected her first battle blade! Even Master Yoda praised her!

If this continues, her fate will be decided by the Council. And he can send her to the Maintenance Building. Or to the Agro-Corps.

"Well, no, that's not going to happen." A slight anger gripped little Togruta. She started putting more force into her punches than she needed to.

"Look, look," someone's voice rang out from the crowd of Younglings waiting for their turn.

The girl, without interrupting the exercises, squinted her eyes.

An unknown Jedi knight was leaning against the wall in the passage. Well, there was nothing unusual about it, except for one thing-it was the strangest Jedi she had ever seen. The outlines of real armor appeared from under the usual cloak, the metal parts had a bluish sheen, the gloves and collar were dark brown, the man's forehead, by the way, was bandaged with a bandage, and a bulky backpack was visible over his shoulder. Actually, he looked a little... shabby.... And he carefully looked around at the Younglings who were training.

Ahsoka continued to practice her punches, but her thoughts jumped to a new wave. "Wow, that's probably someone who participated in the Geonosis raid. Anyway, I haven't seen him before. What was he doing here? Maybe... no. Not happening. What if he's looking for a padawan? And the war started, and the news announced that the Jedi had been appointed generals. Oh, I wish I could go to war! I would have shown my worth there. Commander Ahsoka Tano sounds good. But Padawan Ahsoka Tano is even better, and yet..."

"Ahsoka Tano?"

Togruta, who had been dreaming, jerked sharply and turned around. The blade of her sword, making an intricate trajectory, almost cut into the body of the approaching Jedi, but was stopped by his own sword, which he barely managed to activate. Everyone froze. The sword that Tano trained with was a combat sword.

"Oh!" was all Ahsoka could manage.

The Jedi grinned and said:

"It was close. I almost killed him, by the way."

Ahsoka became despondent. "Well, I screwed up. This had to happen. No, what a shame. How did I not notice him?!"

"Excuse me, knight, I..."

"However, I like your approach." Meanwhile, the stranger continued. "You hit me first, and then you ask. I think you're right for me."

"Is he really..."

"My name is Mikore Vikt, I am a Jedi knight," The man introduced himself, smiling, and it was clear from his face that Yongling's mental groans had not remained a secret to him. "Ahsoka Tano, would you be willing to become my padawan? I've already been on the appointment Board...

"Yes. I agree!" Togruta answered on instinct alone and almost with a "cry of the soul", while her brain was stalling in impotence, afraid to believe what she had heard.

"Great. Come on, we need to talk."

Turning around, the Jedi headed for the exit of the training hall. The girl hurried after him, blinking in prostration and almost forgetting to turn off the sword. Whispers accompanied her from all sides, only further fueling the storm of feelings that flared up in her soul.

"Yes, yes, yes! I became a padawan! Finally!"

"Ahsoka," her companion broke the silence as soon as they entered a more or less deserted corridor, "I'll take you as a padawan, and you won't have to go to the Agro-corps, but before that we have to agree on something", The knight turned around and looked closely into her eyes.

"Is he a mind reader or something?"

"About what?" Ahsoka asked cautiously, unable to think of anything, but fearing the worst in advance. True, she didn't really understand what the "worst thing" was, but she was afraid anyway.

"First- we're going to war, so don't argue with me in a combat situation! Before or after I allow it. I even insist that you express your thoughts and criticize my ideas, but during a fight, if I say "Go!" you go forward, if I say "Stop" you stand, if I say "Run" you run, even if you don't understand the reason at all."

"The Jedi are not retreating!" She stated reflexively and immediately shut her mouth hurriedly.

"Well, yes, well, yes. "If we are retreating, it means that we are advancing. In the opposite direction,"" the knight mimicked someone, breaking into an ironic smile and squinting somewhere to the side.

Ahsoka felt the blood rush to her cheeks...

"So, do you agree with this point?" Vict continued.

"Yes," Togruta managed, ashamed.

"Then the second condition is that it is possible and even encouraged to joke and make fun of others, if it does not harm the cause, but," The Jedi emphasized the last word intonation, "You can't make fun of me!"

"Uh... why is that?" it's not that she resents the condition very much (Ahsoka has never considered that she is abusing this case too much. The girl didn't know what the people around her thought about it. Well, almost... And they were wrong anyway, that's it!), but... but it was weird! And dishonest, yes!

"So are you against it?" the man tried to raise one of his eyebrows, but due to their absence, it looked... funny.

"No, Teacher," Tano barely restrained the taunt on her tongue. Togruta could tell by the look on the knight's face that he didn't really believe her.

"Well, then let's go pack up. I feel like we'll be on our way soon."

***

Well, Ahsoka Tano looked exactly as I imagined. Although I wasn't very good at taking a thirteen-year-old girl seriously. And what could I teach her, so far it seemed weak. "Yes, she can teach me something, too. By the way, it's worth holding a couple of training matches. I hope I don't merge in the first few minutes." A goofy smile crept onto his face.

Following my padawan through the Temple's winding hallway, I stopped in front of the door leading to her room.

"I'll be waiting for you here."

"I'll be quick, Teacher!" And my student disappeared through the door.

"Fast" dragged on a bit, but while I was waiting for the comlink built into the armor, to which I had already transferred the settings from my predecessor's old device, something chirped loudly. Surprised, I activated the connection.

"Mikore Vict?" a small projection of Master Shaak Ti appeared in front of me.

"Yes. How can I help you?"

"As you know, the Senate has appointed Jedi generals in the new Grand Army of the Republic", Yes, I just found out by glancing at the news while I was looking for Ahsoka. "If you are ready, you must report to Hangar three-er-fifteen immediately. There is an appointment and a first assignment for you."

"I'll be there soon." Well. The rest is over. I have my first battle ahead of me. "Ahsoka, stop eavesdropping," I say to the door, behind which I sensed the girl's presence a few seconds ago. Strength is still a great thing, but a small one can't even hide. However, me too, I'll have to make up for this omission. Run, pack your things, and let's go.

"I'm ready now, Teacher", A young padawan immediately jumped out and showed me a small backpack.

"Then we won't keep Master Shaak Ti waiting..."