Teth — Secondary Landing PlatformCliffside Hangar, South Ridge
The buzzing wings of the massive dragonfly creature whined against the wind as it approached the overgrown secondary landing platform built into the mountainside. Vines crept across its surface, and moss clung to the exposed edges of rusted durasteel.
Anakin, seated at the head of the creature, guided it into a hover. With Rotta securely cradled against him, he looked down at the platform—there, half-hidden in the fog, was an old freighter-class ship, scorched and neglected, but intact.
He grimaced.
"We're taking this junker?" he asked over his shoulder.
Jason slid down onto the platform, shaking off the flight. "We'd be better off on that big bug."
"Get aboard and prime the engines." Anakin passed the Huttlet down to Ahsoka. "Assuming it has engines."
R2-D2 wheeled toward the loading ramp, plugging into a panel with a chirp and spark. The ship groaned as systems tried to wake from hibernation.
As Jason approached the entrance ramp, a familiar voice echoed through the shadowed cargo bay.
"Hey! You're that caretaker droid." Ahsoka pointed in surprise. "I wondered what happened to you."
The tall, spindly droid turned, arms full of stacked cargo containers. Its expression immediately lit up with feigned surprise.
"Oh, young one…I mean, soon-to-be Jedi Knight." It tilted its head with a creak. "I had to get away from that terrible—"
Suddenly, more battle droids stepped into view behind it—B1 units, chatting and unaware the Jedi were present.
"—situation."
The Jedi froze, watching as the droid continued loading crates onto the ship with Separatist markings.
Jason muttered, "Tin-plated traitor."
A clone voice crackled over the comm unit. "Okay, everything's loaded.Let's get out of here."
Anakin's eyes narrowed. His hand slid to his lightsaber.
Ahsoka pointed an accusing finger. "Why, you tin-plated traitor!""Blast her!" The droid shrieked and dropped the crate.
"She's at it again. Let's go!" Jason shouted, drawing his saber.
The caretaker droid flailed backward, wires sparking. "Don't you dare!Don't… You… Dare." Blaster fire erupted across the platform as the Jedi charged, sabers igniting in synchronized fury.
Teth — Secondary Landing PlatformInside the Separatist Ship, Power Core Chamber
The old Separatist freighter moaned as it came to life, half its systems flickering, the engine core sputtering like a dying fire. Inside the cramped cockpit, Anakin Skywalker dropped into the pilot's seat, dust clouding off the control panel as he brushed it aside with one arm.
R2-D2 rolled into the socket beside him, plugging in with a sharp chirp.
Jason, lightsaber still ignited, guarded the back of the ship while Ahsoka knelt near a trembling Rotta, the infant Hutt letting out a labored wheeze.
"Relax, Snips." Anakin called over his shoulder, fingers flying across the console. "R2, see if you can spark the ignition couplers."
The lights dimmed.
A second later, the engine gave a choking pulse and coughed out—dead.
"No, that's not it." Anakin muttered, narrowing his eyes.
R2 warbled something unintelligible.
"Try opening the fuel lifters all the way."
There was a sudden low hum… then the ship rumbled to life, shaking the deck under their boots. Outside, steam hissed from the vents. Lights blinked on across the landing platform. The ion drives kicked in with a groan of thrumming power.
Anakin grinned. "Good work, buddy."
Jason moved to the cockpit entrance, his saber lowered but ready. "And just in time. We've got movement on the ridge."
From the viewport, Republic gunships could now be seen breaking through the clouds above, their engines glowing bright as they descended toward the monastery.
Ahsoka looked up, hope flickering in her eyes.
"Master Kenobi is here. Now we'll see some real fireworks."
Anakin tilted his head with mock offense. "Excuse me? What do you call what I've been doing all day?"
Jason smirked. "I don't know. The word 'reckless' comes to mind."
"Very funny, Snips. Back to work.The troops still need our help."
He flipped switches across the panel. "Charge the main guns."
Ahsoka stepped beside him, holding Rotta tight. "How are we gonna help?Stinky's getting sicker and sicker."
Jason looked between her and the viewport. The battle raged, but Rotta's color had worsened—now pale and clammy, his breathing shallow.
Anakin calmly stated. "But we promised Rex we'd help them." when Ahsoka's voice cracked with urgency. Master, we've got to get him to the medics on the Jedi cruiser. It's our only chance to get Stinky back to his father still breathing."
Anakin's hand hovered over the control for the ship's comm system. He exhaled slowly… then keyed it open.
"Captain Rex, this is General Skywalker."
The reply was instant, faint under static and blaster fire.
"Yes, General."
Anakin's voice was steady, but heavy. "We're not going to be able to help you."
There was a beat of silence. Then Rex, calm as always, replied:
"Don't worry about us, General. We'll be all right. The mission always comes first, sir."
Teth – Upper AtmosphereAboard the Captured Separatist Freighter
The old Separatist freighter surged upward, groaning against the pressure as Anakin Skywalker wrestled the controls. The ship jolted and pitched under stress, its thrusters sputtering as they broke through the clouds above the monastery and soared into the sky.
Inside, Jason, Ahsoka, and R2-D2 braced for turbulence. Rotta lay strapped into a makeshift gurney beside them, wrapped tight as the ship rattled violently.
Outside the cockpit window, the full scale of the battle came into view.
Republic gunships darted through the air like falcons, locked in combat with swarms of Vulture droids. Turbolaser fire painted the sky. The Jedi cruiser loomed ahead like a fortress in orbit—but the closer they got, the worse the airspace became.
Ahsoka leaned forward, her voice calm despite the shaking.
"Master, today I did my best to stay calm, focused...and when I did, everything seemed so easy."
Anakin's eyes didn't leave the chaos ahead.
"Well, get focused, 'cause things just got a lot harder."
A Vulture droid screamed past the viewport, opening fire.
Anakin pulled hard to starboard. Red bolts chewed across the hull.
"All we've got to do is land on that Jedi cruiser."
Ahsoka pointed through the cockpit glass, wide-eyed. Suddenly, the freighter shuddered violently as one of the Jedi cruiser's turbolaser batteries fired, catching them broadside. The cockpit exploded in sparks.
"But, Master, their deflector shields are up! They must think this grease bucket is an enemy ship!"
"Jedi cruiser, hold your fire!" Anakin barked into the com.
A voice replied, distant and clipped. "Who is that? Incoming ship, identify yourself."
More shots flew past.
"Captain, what's going on down there? Repeat, identify yourself."
Anakin slammed the transmitter. "This is General Skywalker. We have Jabba the Hutt's son. He needs medical attention. We must board immediately."
A pause.
"Stand by."
Jason rolled his eyes. "Stand by? That's helpful."
A heavy impact rocked the ship. R2 screeched from his socket as the freighter veered hard left.
"Hang on!" Anakin shouted.
The Admiral Yularen voice to the clone officer, more urgent this time.
"Open the main hangar door and lower the deflector shields."
the voice replied through the coms, "You got it, sir. General Skywalker, we think we can lift the shields on the lower rear hangar."
Anakin pulled the ship into a dive. "We're on our way!"
The cruiser's hangar bay opened, shields flickering just long enough for a narrow entry.
Jason leaned forward, eyes wide. "We've made it! We've made it!"
Then—
"General Skywalker, abort! Abort!" crackled the voice from the cruiser.
A flaming Vulture droid, shot down by a Republic cannon, spiraled directly into the open hangar, exploding in a massive fireball that took out the landing corridor.
Anakin swore under his breath.
He pulled the ship back up, the freighter creaking under the strain.
"That changes our plans." He glanced at the others. "Looks like we're gonna have to take this bucket of bolts all the way to Tatooine."
Jason blinked. "We're not making it in this thing."
Anakin leaned harder into the throttle. "We don't have a choice."