'Why do I agree to the green goblin.' The man thought as he deflected a barrage of blaster fire. His silver lightsaber moved with surgical precision, intercepting each shot with ease, while also shielding nearby allies when needed.
"Stay close!" he shouted, cutting down a B-1 droid that stepped into his path. "Support each other—don't fight alone!"
He surged forward, stepping in front of an exhausted Jedi and blocking the bolts that would have ended him.
"Thank you," the weary Jedi gasped. "I thought that was my end."
"Don't thank me yet," the man replied, gripping the Jedi's arm and pulling him along. "We're not out of this."
Blades flashing, he deflected more fire as he and the surviving Jedi slowly fell back, clustering into a defensive circle. The losses were heavy—too heavy. Few remained standing.
When his group linked up with the others, a woman rushed to his side.
"I thought you were dead," Padmé said, firing her blaster into the droid ranks.
"I don't die that easily," he said with a quick glance her way. "And none of us are dying here today."
Just then, the droid assault halted. Count Dooku's voice carried across the arena as he tried to sway Windu and the remaining Jedi to his cause.
The same lines from the movie, the man thought grimly, readying himself for the worst if the green goblin didn't arrive in time.
But fortune shifted. As Dooku gave the order to finish them, LAAT gunships roared into the arena, unleashing heavy fire into the droid army. The battlefield shifted, buying the Jedi precious moments.
The man fought his way backward, lightsaber shielding their retreat while Padmé laid down cover fire. They clambered aboard one of the gunships, which lifted away under covering fire.
Then came the voice—the same voice that had brought him to this burning, sandy hell.
"Good to see you again, it is, Knight Galahad," said the green goblin—Yoda—standing before him.
"Yes, Master Yoda," Galahad replied, his tone dry. "Though it's not so good for the others."
A sharp jab to his side from Padmé told him he'd spoken too harshly.
Yoda's ears drooped, sorrow etched into his face. "A tragedy, this is. Yet end the Sith's plot, we still can." His gaze locked firmly onto Galahad.
Galahad let out a weary sigh, then nodded. "Indeed—for the Republic's sake."
Yoda's lips curved into the faintest smile.
"Sir," a clone officer with yellow markings called out, "we're approaching the command center. ETA—five minutes."
With that, Yoda turned toward the clone and began quietly discussing troop deployment—where to strike, which Jedi would take command of which units.
Galahad shifted his focus to Padmé. "Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" He scanned her quickly for any wounds, concern sharp in his tone.
"No," Padmé replied with a small, reassuring smile. "I didn't take a hit."
Galahad exhaled, relief softening his shoulders. But the moment lingered only briefly before his expression hardened again. "Padmé…" he said quietly, his silver eyes narrowing. "Why are you even here? I told you to stay on Naboo—or at the very least on Coruscant—where it's safe. You shouldn't be in the middle of this. And by the way, how did you even know about this operation, it's existence is only know to the Jedi Council and the Chancellor."
Padmé held his gaze, though her eyes waver. "Anakin told me about it." She said with the best confident face she can put. "He stop at Naboo to refuel his ship."
Galahad sigh when he hear this. Even when they both not together, Padmé still end up on Geonasis. "Fine, but next time you want to something like this, you better take a security team with you." He said firmly. "Even if you don't want to take the guard team that I give you, you should at least take your own Naboo guards."
"I know." Padmé said. "I will remember to take the guard next time."
Galahad raised one of his eyebrows. "Next time? There will be no next time, Padmé."
Before she could retort, a familiar voice cut in.
"Your help, I need," Yoda interjected, a small smile tugging at his lips—the kind Galahad had learned to interpret as trouble.
Galahad turned toward him with a strained smile. "What kind of help, Master?"
"Take command of the 10th Corps, you will," Yoda said, as a clone trooper activated a holoprojector.
10th Corps that should have total of 42304 clones currently only field about 5000 clones with 24 AT-TE on the left side of the frontline.
Galahad stared at the display, then back at Yoda, one eye twitching. "That's… a huge responsibility you're dropping on me, Master. Shouldn't you assign this to one of the Masters instead of…" he gestured to himself, "…a mere Knight?"
Yoda's eyes twinkled with quiet amusement. "Skill and resolve, you have. Trust in you, I do."
Galahad pinched the bridge of his nose. "I walked right into that, didn't I?"
Padmé smothered a laugh beside him, and Yoda's ears perked in satisfaction.
Galahad let out a long, resigned sigh as he lowered his hand. "Fine then, Master," he said, straightening his posture. "I'll take command of the 10th Corps."
Yoda nodded approvingly. "Good. The left flank, critical it is. Hold it, you must."
The gunship shuddered as it touched down. Even before the doors slid open, the roar of battle bled into the cabin—blasterfire, distant artillery, and the heavy thud of walkers reverberating through the air.
As the door slided open, heat and the scent of scorched durasteel rushed in. Galahad led the way out, cloak snapping in the dry wind. Almost immediately, another LAAT set down nearby, its side doors opening to reveal a squad of clones escorting a figure in yellow-marked armor.
The clone commander strode forward with disciplined precision, saluting smartly once he reached them.
"Sir!" he barked. "CC-143, commander of the 2nd Regiment, 10th Corps." He turned to Galahad, visor gleaming in the harsh light. "I have received order that you're to assume command over 10th Corps. Please follow me, sir—I'll take you to the front."
He gestured toward his waiting gunship, engines still whining.
Galahad exchanged a quick glance with Padmé. "Stay with the command staff," he told her firmly. "This is going to get ugly."
Padmé gave a small nod, her expression serious but resolute.
Galahad turned back to CC-143 and stepped toward the gunship. "Lead the way, Commander."
"Copy that, sir."
The two boarded the transport as it lifted off again, banking low over the smoking battlefield toward the 10th Corps' position.
===============================
First battle of Geonasis ended just like in the original timeline, heavy casualties among the clones due to the inability of the Jedi in leading the soldiers in wartime.
10th Corps under Galahad advance slowly, with the clone commander leading their force and Galahad leading the spearhead, a small team of best clone trooper that the 10th Corps can muster. This resulting in the 10th Corps have the lowest casualties among all Republic forces.
Now, with the battle over, the remaining Jedia and clone forces have return back to Coruscant, so that it can be reorganize and fully integrated into the Republic command structure.
Within the Jedi Temple, Galahad is currently standing within the council chamber, surrounded by the Jedi Masters, though some seats still remain empty due to the losses on Geonasis.
"Knight Galahad, you have performed well on Geonasis." Mace Windu said as he cross his arms. "And with the Senate passing the Jedi Military Integration Act, the council have decided that you will be promoted to the rank of Jedi General and continue to lead the 10th Corps."
Galahad raised his eyebrow upon hearing this. Indeed, he have read many of the war history that the archives have recorded when he's still Jedi Initiate and Padawan, even playing a simulation using a small holoptojector that he customized in his room. Though he know that the Council know about this, he can't believe that they give him all this rank due to his reading upon war records. But maybe this isn't a real surprise, the Jedi have been peacekeeper for a long time since the last war.
"It's an honor to receive such trust," Galahad said, bowing respectfully. "I only ask that my Corps be fully reinforced and supplied—along with an accompanying fleet—if you intend to send us into the field again."
Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully before answering. "That's something we're unable to give you at the moment. Our resources are scarce until the next group of clones arrives and the new warships are completed at the shipyards." His lips curved into a small, knowing smirk. "Perhaps you can do something about it yourself. After all, you're quite familiar with some senators… and a few officers, if I'm not mistaken."
Galahad blinked, then exhaled slowly. "So what you're saying is… I need to secure the resources for my Corps and fleet by myself?"
Obi-Wan gave a single, almost amused nod.
Galahad sighed, shoulders sinking slightly. "Wonderful. I survive Geonosis just to be buried under logistics."
And for a month, logistics is all Galahad doing. Securing as much supplies for the 10th Corps and ships for his fleet as he bargain with the generals and admirals in the High Command. In the end, he did secure much for the 10th Corps and the fleet. 10th Corps will be supplied with the next group of clones, pushing it's number to 20000 clones with a sizeable armoured vehicles and equipments. He also secure five Acclamator, ten Arquitens light cruisers with about three hundred V-19 fighters.
With him making all this preparation, the High Command and Jedi Council have decided to assign him to 17th Sector Army, aiming to stabilize the region and reinforce the neighboring Sector Armies if required.
---
"So, I hear you're leaving soon?" Padmé asked softly. The two of them sat together in her private quarters, a rare moment of calm amid the growing chaos.
"Yes," Galahad replied, gently taking her hand. "I've been ordered to secure a path toward Naboo. You should be happy—if I succeed, your homeworld will be much safer than it is now."
Padmé sighed, tightening her hold on his hand. "I'd be happier if you were being sent to liberate the planets already conquered by the Separatists."
"We need to take this one step at a time," Galahad said, his voice calm and steady. "The war has only just begun. The Republic's factories are still shifting toward full wartime production. We're laying the groundwork, Padmé. This is just the beginning of a long campaign."
Padmé exhaled slowly and rested her head on his shoulder. "I know," she whispered. "I just wish it didn't have to come to this… that we could have settled everything through diplomacy."
"It's not us who rejected peace, Padmé," Galahad said softly. "It was the Separatists who turned their backs on it. And now, the entire galaxy has to pay the price for their choice."
They stayed like that for a few quiet moments, the weight of unspoken worries hanging between them. Then Padmé lifted her head slightly, a familiar spark of mischief lighting her eyes.
"So," she began, "if I remember correctly… there are still some planets that haven't declared their allegiance yet, right?"
Galahad turned toward her and couldn't help but smile at the glint in her gaze. Slowly, he nodded. "Yes. There are a few worlds that remain undecided. Though," he added with a hint of confidence, "I doubt they'll stay that way once my Corps and fleet arrive."
Padmé swatted his arm lightly. "Galahad! That sounds like you're just forcing them into the Republic. How is that any different from the Separatists?"
"Hah!" Galahad laughed, amused by her jab. "It's different, Padmé. Under the Separatists, those worlds have no real voice in their so-called Senate. They get no support unless they're useful. But in the Republic, they at least have representation—and the chance to receive aid if they ask for it."
He paused, a wry thought flickering through his mind. 'Maybe.'
"Especially when we have the fame Senator Amidala that always help the others. I'm sure this will also convince them to return to Republic more easily."
Padmé rolled her eyes, though a faint blush crept onto her cheeks at his teasing. "Flattery won't get you out of trouble, General," she said with a mock-stern tone.
Her expression then shifted, becoming more serious. "Also, the Supreme Chancellor has approved my request. I'll be serving as a diplomat for the Republic—trying to convince the neutral systems to either join us or at least remain neutral."
Galahad sighed the moment he heard this. "I should have known… Has the Senate assigned any kind of escort for your mission?"
"No," Padmé replied, shaking her head. "I refused their offer. I don't require an escort for my safety, and bringing one might make it seem like I—or the Republic—am trying to show force to pressure them into rejoining."
"That won't do," Galahad said firmly, his tone sharpening. "Either you accept the escort the Chancellor assigned to you, or I'll assign a platoon from my 10th Corps to accompany you."
Padmé crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. "I'm not going to war, Galahad."
"Yes, you're not going to war," he retorted. "But the entire galaxy is at war, Padmé. You need protection—even on a diplomatic mission. Especially after the assassination attempts on your life."
Padmé's defiant posture faltered slightly as she thought it over. After a few moments, she exhaled softly. "Fine," she said at last. "But they'll be under my command while they're with me."
Galahad's stern expression softened into a smile. "Of course," he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her in a brief but warm embrace. "I'll inform the platoon immediately."
Padmé returned the hug, her hands resting lightly against his back. "I wish you'd be just as careful," she murmured.
He pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes with a quiet intensity. "I will be," he promised.