The ancient streets of Theed had become a river of desperate humanity flowing toward the palace gates. Thousands of civilians—families clutching children, elderly citizens supported by younger relatives, merchants abandoning their livelihoods—all converged on the royal complex in a chaotic exodus from the war-torn city.
Padmé Amidala stood at the forefront of the palace's outer defenses, her senatorial robes replaced by practical combat gear as she personally ensured that every refugee reached safety. Her voice carried over the din of battle as she directed traffic flow and coordinated with the clone commanders managing the evacuation.
"Keep the eastern checkpoint clear!" she called out to a squad of clone troopers. "We've got families with wounded coming through!"
The Separatist droid army had adapted their tactics, launching coordinated assault waves that deliberately targeted areas beyond the effective range of Theed's limited anti-aircraft defenses. Clone troopers had abandoned their defensive bunkers, instead forming mobile fighting units that engaged the droids in running battles throughout the city streets. Their primary mission wasn't to hold territory—it was to buy time for the civilians to reach the palace's protective walls.
The original defensive perimeter had encompassed nearly five city blocks, creating a secure zone where thousands of citizens could shelter under the protection of the clone army. But when the Separatist capital ship had begun its orbital bombardment of Theed, that extended defense had become untenable. Now, clone commanders were frantically pulling back their forces while shepherding as many civilians as possible toward the palace's more concentrated defenses.
Those refugees who couldn't reach the palace in time had no choice but to seek whatever shelter they could find—in damaged buildings, underground passages, or the rubble of destroyed structures. Their survival depended entirely on staying hidden until Republic reinforcements could break the siege.
The situation throughout Theed had reached critical levels. Most of the city beyond the immediate palace district lay in ruins, systematically destroyed by waves of battle droids. Naboo's small air force had been virtually eliminated in the opening hours of the assault, leaving only a handful of LAAT gunships operational. Military planners had considered using these remaining aircraft for civilian evacuation, but the airspace over Theed was too heavily contested—any transport attempting to fly would be immediately targeted by Separatist fighters.
In the midst of this chaos, Padmé found herself fighting alongside forces she could never have imagined. She had just finished picking off a squad of B1 battle droids with precise blaster shots when a familiar vibranium disc came spinning through the air, demolishing an entire formation of advancing robots with surgical precision.
The shield ricocheted from target to target with impossible accuracy, each impact perfectly calculated to maximize damage to the droid forces while avoiding any collateral damage to Republic personnel. When it finally returned to Steve Rogers' waiting hand, he was already charging into the next wave of attackers, using the shield both as protection and as a devastating close-combat weapon.
Padmé caught Steve's eye long enough to nod her thanks before returning to her own firefight, while Steve plunged into hand-to-hand combat with a group of super battle droids that had broken through the perimeter.
Overhead, Sam Wilson's distinctive silhouette cut through the smoke-filled sky, his mechanical wings allowing him to maintain aerial superiority despite the overwhelming odds. He had acquired a DC-17 blaster pistol from a fallen clone trooper, and his marksmanship from above provided crucial support to the ground forces below. His flight patterns were erratic and unpredictable, making him nearly impossible for the droid targeting systems to track effectively.
As for Scott Lang, his contribution to the battle was perhaps the most unnerving for both sides. Battle droids would suddenly explode without warning, their internal systems apparently failing catastrophically. Weapons would jam at crucial moments, AAT tanks would suffer mysterious mechanical failures, and communication arrays would go offline for no apparent reason. The effect was deeply psychological—the droids, despite their programming, seemed to develop something resembling paranoia as they tried to identify and target an enemy they couldn't see.
Despite the incredible tactical advantage provided by these three unlikely allies, Padmé understood the harsh mathematical reality of their situation. This was a planetary invasion conducted by a massive Separatist fleet. No matter how skilled or capable Steve, Sam, and Scott might be, they were still only three individuals facing an army of thousands. The palace's defenses would eventually be overwhelmed unless Republic reinforcements arrived soon.
The memory of Naboo's previous occupation ten years earlier burned in Padmé's mind, fueling her determination to prevent history from repeating itself. She grabbed a more powerful DC-15A blaster rifle from a supply crate and increased her rate of fire, each shot finding its mark with the precision that came from years of training in personal defense.
Meanwhile, Steve had positioned himself protectively in front of Chuck, who was still recovering from his injuries. Jolly and another clone trooper named Luke were helping Chuck retreat toward the inner defensive lines, but the movement had drawn enemy attention. Separatist battle droids were concentrating their fire on the vulnerable group, forcing Steve to use his shield as mobile cover while returning fire with a borrowed blaster.
Sam spotted his friends' predicament from above and immediately dove to assist. "Cap, we can maintain this defensive action for a while longer," he called out through his comlink, "but if those Republic reinforcements don't arrive soon, we're going to be fighting a losing battle."
"I understand," Steve replied grimly, grabbing a malfunctioning B1 droid and hurling it into a group of its companions with enough force to knock them all down. He looked up at Sam's circling form and raised his voice over the sounds of battle. "But right now, regardless of the ultimate outcome, our only option is to keep fighting and protect these people."
"Armor incoming!" shouted a clone trooper from the eastern watchtower.
Everyone turned to see a formation of AAT tanks advancing through the rubble-strewn streets, their repulsors allowing them to glide over obstacles that would have stopped wheeled or tracked vehicles. The defensive howitzers and anti-aircraft guns managed to destroy several of the lead tanks, but the surviving vehicles immediately began returning concentrated fire. Their heavy blaster cannons tore through the clone troopers' hastily constructed defensive positions like they were made of paper.
Sam reacted instantly, diving toward one of the tanks with a pair of thermal detonators he had acquired from the clone arsenal. He swooped low over the vehicle's hull, dropped the explosives directly onto the main gun turret, and pulled up sharply as the tank exploded behind him.
Padmé and Steve found themselves fighting side by side with Sergeant Buck and another clone called Rook when one of the remaining AAT tanks turned its main gun toward their position. The tank's targeting computer had apparently identified Padmé as a high-value target.
"Target the senator," came the cold mechanical voice of the tank's droid commander. "Maximum firepower."
"Take cover!" Steve roared, launching himself toward Padmé just as the tank's main cannon began to glow with charging energy.
Suddenly, Scott Lang materialized directly in front of the tank at full size, a small disc device visible in his hand. Without hesitation, he activated the disc and threw it at the approaching vehicle.
The effect was instantaneous and impossible. The massive AAT tank simply vanished, leaving only empty space where thirty tons of armored vehicle had been moments before.
"Wait—where did that tank go?" one of the battle droids asked, its mechanical voice carrying what almost sounded like confusion.
"Holy Force," Scott exclaimed, staring at his own hand in amazement. "I can't believe that actually worked!"
"How in the galaxy did you do that?" Sergeant Buck shouted, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.
Scott walked forward casually and bent down, carefully picking up something from the ground. When he straightened, everyone could see a perfectly detailed miniature AAT tank sitting in his palm, complete with tiny battle droids that were apparently still trying to operate their shrunken vehicle.
"Oh, I just shrunk it," Scott said with a shrug, as if reducing a battle tank to toy size was the most natural thing in the world.
"You... just... shrunk it?" Everyone except Steve and Sam stared at Scott in stunned silence.
The incredible display had temporarily brought both sides of the battle to a halt. Clone troopers and battle droids alike seemed frozen by the impossibility of what they had just witnessed.
"Do you understand how he accomplished that?" one clone whispered to Sergeant Buck, who could only shake his head in silent amazement.
Scott kept his attention focused on the miniaturized tank in his palm, watching as the ant-sized B1 droids attempted to abandon their vehicle and escape. Their tiny forms scrambled around his hand like actual insects, but there was obviously no escape from their current predicament.
As Scott studied the miniature battlefield in his palm, a sudden inspiration struck him. He turned to a nearby clone trooper and asked, "Hey, can I borrow one of your thermal detonators?"
"Uh..." The clone soldier, still processing what he had just seen, didn't immediately respond.
Getting no answer, Scott simply took a thermal detonator from the trooper's equipment belt and tossed it to Steve. "Cap, I need you to hit this disc when I throw it up in the air."
"Why would—" Steve began.
"Trust me on this one," Scott interrupted with a grin that suggested he was about to attempt something either brilliant or catastrophically stupid.
Steve had learned to trust his teammates' instincts, even when their plans seemed impossible. When Scott hurled the small disc high into the air above the battlefield, Steve calculated the trajectory, leaned back, and threw the thermal detonator with perfect accuracy.
The two objects collided in midair with devastating results.
The explosion that followed exceeded everyone's expectations, including those of Steve and Sam. The blast wave rippled outward with incredible force, completely obliterating the remaining battle droid army that had been advancing on their position. The shockwave not only destroyed every remaining AAT tank in the immediate area but also carved a massive crater in the open ground between the droid forces and the palace.
"I... I..." Padmé stared at the scene of destruction with her mouth hanging open, apparently unable to form coherent words.
"Senator," Steve's calm voice cut through her shock and amazement.
Padmé turned to look at him, still struggling to process what she had witnessed. Steve's expression was serious but reassuring as he said, "I think it would be best if we don't dwell on the specifics of what just happened right now."
Padmé blinked several times, trying to regain her composure. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally managed to stammer, "Yes... yes, of course. You're absolutely right. We shouldn't... we shouldn't dwell on it."
"LAAT gunships!" Rook suddenly pointed toward the sky and shouted with excitement. "Republic reinforcements are finally here!"
"Thank the Force," Padmé breathed, relief evident in her voice. She raised her head to address the assembled clone troopers, her senatorial authority returning as she spoke. "Don't let your guard down yet. We still have civilians who need to reach safety, and this battle isn't over."
"She's absolutely right," Steve nodded approvingly. "Even with reinforcements arriving, we can't afford to relax until every last civilian is secure and the threat has been completely eliminated."
As the distinctive sound of LAAT gunship engines grew louder overhead, Steve couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of hope. Reinforcements were always welcome, but he had learned through years of experience that the real victory came in successfully protecting innocent lives. And in that regard, despite the impossible circumstances and the completely alien nature of their current conflict, today was shaping up to be a good day.