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Chapter 12 - Chapter 12 – Flight from Teth

Rain lashed the jungle cliffs of Teth, washing blood and oil alike into the mud. From the monastery above, the thunder of battle still echoed—clones shouting, droids clanking, and the unmistakable hum of Obi-Wan Kenobi's lightsaber as he held the line.

But on the lower paths, another fight began.

Anakin led the retreat, cloak plastered to his shoulders by rain, blue blade cutting through the jungle undergrowth. At his side, Ahsoka cradled the whimpering Huttlet, who squirmed miserably, emitting a chorus of burps and squeals. "Stinky's not going to make it if we keep running like this," she complained, shifting the little Hutt in her arms.

"Keep moving," Anakin snapped. "We don't have a choice."

Behind them, Kaelen moved with the clones, his purple saber a beacon in the storm. He stayed near the rear, his precognition guiding him as he deflected bolts from pursuing droids. Rain sizzled against his blade, steam rising as each strike cut through metal.

"General!" Rex called over the commotion. "They're right on our heels. We can't outrun them on foot."

"I'm not planning to," Anakin replied. He skidded to a stop near a flat stretch of mud where a gunship had been downed earlier in the climb. Its hull smoked, but the cannons still looked functional. "We'll hold them here."

Kaelen's heart thudded as the droids poured down the slope in formation, blasters blazing. He raised his saber, stepping forward instinctively. "Then let me take point."

"Not without me," Ahsoka shot back, igniting her green blade with one hand while balancing Rotta with the other.

Anakin groaned. "Not the time for an argument!"

The jungle exploded with blaster fire.

Clones dug in, rifles barking in rhythm. Anakin charged into the droids like a living storm, his saber whirling arcs of blue. Ahsoka darted behind him, deflecting with sharp, efficient strikes. Kaelen anchored the flank, his purple blade sweeping wide, each movement precise, purposeful. The Force whispered to him—left, block, strike, duck—and he obeyed without hesitation.

Still, the droids pressed hard. A squad of droidekas rolled forward, shields flaring to life. Their twin cannons lit the clearing in a blaze of red.

"Droidekas!" Rex barked. "We need heavier firepower!"

Anakin cursed under his breath, glancing at the wrecked gunship. "Kaelen! Cover me!"

The boy didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, intercepting the first volley. His blade snapped into position before the bolts even left the droidekas' barrels. Sparks and rain hissed around him as he absorbed the storm of fire. His arms shook with the force of it, but his stance held.

"Now!" he shouted.

Anakin vaulted onto the gunship wreck, slamming his saber into the control panel. The cannons groaned to life, swiveling toward the droidekas. With a burst of blue plasma, the wrecked ship spat its last breath of firepower, tearing the droidekas apart in a rain of sparks.

The clones cheered, but Kaelen only dropped to one knee, panting, steam rising from his saber.

"You alright, kid?" Rex called.

Kaelen forced himself up, teeth gritted. "I'm fine."

But Ahsoka caught the tremor in his arms, the tightness in his jaw. For once, she didn't make a jab. She just nodded silently, clutching Rotta tighter.

Their reprieve was short-lived. The jungle trembled as a new shadow loomed—Separatist reinforcements descending from the skies in troop carriers. Rows of droids poured out, their metal feet clanging in unison as they marched toward the clearing.

Anakin's face tightened. "We can't hold this position. Rex, get the men ready—we're moving out."

"And where exactly are we moving to?" Rex shot back, scanning the trees.

Kaelen pointed toward a winding ridge that curved around the cliffside. "There. It'll give us cover—and maybe a chance to lose them in the storm."

Anakin glanced at him, then smirked despite the chaos. "Kenobi's Padawan making battlefield calls? Bold."

Kaelen met his gaze without flinching. "Effective."

Anakin laughed, almost impressed. "Alright then. You heard the kid—fall back to the ridge!"

The clones shifted formation, retreating in disciplined bursts of fire. The Jedi covered them, sabers flashing as they cut down droids that pressed too close.

The ridge was treacherous, slick with rain, the drop beside it vanishing into mist. Ahsoka slipped more than once, clutching Rotta desperately. Kaelen grabbed her arm once when her boot slid near the edge, hauling her back with surprising strength.

"Careful," he said, eyes sharp. "The war's not worth dying for here."

She scowled, embarrassed. "I didn't need your help."

"You almost did," he replied evenly, releasing her.

Rotta burped loudly between them, and Ahsoka groaned. "Great. Even he thinks you're smug."

Kaelen allowed himself the faintest smile as he turned back to the fight.

By the time they reached the ridge's end, the droids had thinned but not stopped. Blaster fire still peppered their position, and the clones were running low on power packs. Anakin scanned the skies, frustration etched on his face.

"Where's our transport?" he growled. "We can't keep running circles in this jungle."

As if in answer, a Republic gunship broke through the storm above, its cannons blazing as it strafed the advancing droids. The pilot's voice crackled over comms: "General Skywalker, your ride's here!"

The clones let out a cheer.

"Move!" Anakin shouted, waving them forward.

The gunship lowered into the clearing, its bay doors open. Clones piled in first, hauling their wounded with them. Ahsoka stumbled up the ramp, still clutching Rotta, muttering under her breath about slime and smells.

Kaelen covered the rear, saber flashing as he cut down the last droids that dared press the attack. Rain ran down his face, mixing with sweat and smoke, but his eyes burned bright. When the last trooper was aboard, he leapt onto the ramp, rolling to his feet as the gunship roared skyward.

The jungle fell away below, droids shrinking into ants, blaster fire fading into the storm.

Inside, the clones slumped in exhaustion. Anakin stood at the viewport, watching the battlefield vanish beneath the clouds. His jaw was set, his eyes sharp.

"That's one hurdle down," he muttered. "Now we just have to get this slimy little Hutt back to Tatooine alive."

Rotta let out a wet sneeze in Ahsoka's arms. She groaned, wiping her sleeve. "And keep me alive while babysitting him."

Kaelen sat heavily against the bulkhead, saber dim at his side. His muscles ached, his chest still burned from the droidekas' barrage, but his gaze was steady. "We'll make it," he said quietly.

Ahsoka looked at him, surprised by the certainty in his tone. "You sound sure."

"I have to be," Kaelen replied, staring out at the storm. "If I let myself think otherwise, we've already lost."

Anakin turned from the viewport, studying him. For a moment, the young Mandalorian-born Padawan reminded him of himself—not the man he was now, but the boy he'd been when Qui-Gon found him. Fire and fear all tangled together, trying desperately to become something greater.

"You'll do fine, kid," Anakin said. "Just don't start thinking you're smarter than your Master."

Kaelen's lips quirked. "I'll keep that in mind, Master Skywalker."

Anakin raised a brow at the faint sarcasm, but before he could reply, the gunship jolted as it entered the upper atmosphere.

The battle for Teth was behind them. Ahead lay Tatooine, Jabba the Hutt, and a plot deeper than any of them yet realized.

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