Captain Zabrak and several officers hurried over to Solo and Renan, who were discussing plans for repurposing captured equipment.
Seeing Solo, the captain immediately approached. "General, it's a relief to see you're safe."
"It's good to see you too, Captain," Solo replied with a nod and a smile. "How's the *Dingyuan*?"
"Just some scratches—nothing serious," the captain replied with a grin. "Commander Renan even allocated a few fighters to replenish our losses. We're now back to our full complement of forty-eight aircraft."
He glanced at the emerging base outside the command post. In the distance, the wreckage of robots had been piled into a small mountain. He couldn't help but whistle. "Looks like you've been keeping busy here."
"It's certainly been... lively," Solo chuckled, then shifted the topic. "Has the construction materials for the outpost been unloaded yet?"
"Unloading has already begun. Also, as soon as I reestablished contact with you, I sent a request to fleet headquarters. In eight to ten hours, five light frigates will arrive: three carrying construction materials, one a medical frigate, and one with food supplies."
"This is truly good news," Solo said, exhaling in relief. The pressure on base construction and medical care for the wounded could finally ease.
Just then, the roar of machinery echoed from the distance.
Everyone turned to look and saw hundreds of DUM Maintenance Robots escorting several J-1 Proton Cannons. Guided by Clone Trooper technicians, they advanced steadily toward the base.
Renan, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice filled with confusion. "General, what use do you have for these scrap heaps?"
"If I can gather four more of these cannons and position them here..." Solo pointed to the command post beneath his feet, "...we could wipe out all those Hailfire-class tanks in ten minutes."
He gestured toward the warships hovering in the low sky.
"Are their firepower really that formidable?" Captain Lagnos asked, surprised.
"Don't let their bulk fool you," Solo explained. "They're perfect for engaging large ships and fixed targets, and they can even threaten fighters and bombers. The Separatists wasted them on infantry instead of using them for air defense—a criminal waste of resources. But now, this treasure is in my hands."
"You seem to know a lot about Separatist weaponry," Renan said, his gaze toward Solo now tinged with admiration.
"Just some experience," Solo replied vaguely, unable to reveal that his knowledge stemmed from memories of a past life.
Ahsoka, unable to contain her excitement, interjected, "My Master commanded troops in the very first battle of Geonosis!"
"Hardly commanded," Solo thought, inwardly cringing. "I was just there."
As expected, Renan's interest was immediately piqued.
"General, could you tell us more about the Battle of Geonosis? We've only heard rumors and would love to know more details."
Solo sighed inwardly, resigned to sharing only what he could. He began recounting fragmented memories of the battle.
While Solo and the others discussed the past, Clone Trooper units were already launching a purge against the remaining Separatist forces.
The tactical map clearly showed fifteen infantry regiments, supported by a hundred tanks and gunboats, steamrolling through the robot positions like a steamroller, encountering virtually no meaningful resistance.
Solo knew exactly why.
The Trade Federation had deployed nearly half a million robots in a crushing offensive, completely neglecting defensive positions and anti-aircraft defenses. This suggested either reliance on orbital fleet support or a failure to anticipate any counterattack.
As the situation spiraled out of control, the Neimoidian commander likely executed a "tactical retreat," abandoning command to the robot officers.
Without unified command, the robots' combat effectiveness plummeted.
For the first four hours, they managed to resist weakly through sheer numbers. But when the Republic Army launched airstrikes, rocket fire decimated the heavy robots.
Later, as the robots' energy cells depleted, their resistance completely collapsed.
Solo couldn't help but wonder: if the Separatists had adopted dispersed deployment tactics and improved the robots' reaction speed—making them less like "Windows 10 running on a fourth-generation Pentium"—this mop-up operation might have dragged on for weeks.
"General, this is all the support we can provide. We have missions in other sectors and can't spare any more troops," Renan said, turning from the tactical map to face Solo. "However, I can assign you a few Pelta-class frigates. They're newly commissioned ships, but their combat value is limited."
Solo knew the Pelta-class frigates had decent ergonomics but weak weapons, thin armor, and a cargo capacity of only about 600 tons, making them primarily suited for medical or transport duties.
Still, having something was better than nothing. He nodded immediately. "Thank you, Commander. They'll be very useful. Can I keep my original light frigate?"
"Of course. It was assigned to you in the first place," Renan replied with a nod. "The rest of the fleet must return to the sector with me."
Solo understood. The Separatists were likely pressuring the Republic on other fronts, or Renan wouldn't be so eager to redeploy his ships.
He extended his hand. "Thank you again for your support. I look forward to future collaborations."
"Likewise, General," Renan said, shaking his hand and saluting. "I must oversee the troop boarding now. Farewell."
Watching Renan's retreating figure, Solo rubbed his temples. He had much to do: deploy the base, arrange quarters and rations for the Clone Troopers, refit captured equipment, reprogram the robots... and one crucial task he'd been contemplating for some time.
Four hours later, Renan's fleet completed its hyperspace jump and departed, and the promised five light frigates arrived on schedule.
The Clone Troopers quickly unloaded construction materials and food, transferred the critically wounded from the *Dingyuan* to the medical frigates, and then sent those ships back to the fleet base.
As the sun set, the sky over Donovia was painted in hues of orange and crimson.
Solo watched the distant afterglow and picked up his armor's built-in communicator. "Commander Brem, order the entire legion to assemble in the open area three hundred meters south of the main gate. Remember to leave a security detachment. Also, assign me a company of soldiers for a special mission."
"Is it a combat mission, sir?" Brem asked.
"No, but have them bring their weapons."
The assembly order had barely been issued when Ahsoka rushed over. "Master, what's going on?"
"Patience, Padawan," Solo said, deliberately being mysterious.
"Hmph, I'm not a child anymore!" Ahsoka pouted, her tone laced with dissatisfaction.
Solo chuckled. "But right now you're acting like a kid who wants to tear open a present and ruin the surprise."
"So what?"
"Master Yoda once said, 'True maturity lies in the ability to endure,'" Solo said with a straight face, though he wasn't even sure if Yoda had ever said that.
Ahsoka clearly believed him.
"Master! You're tricking me again!" Ahsoka glared at him, cheeks puffed out, but she didn't press the matter further.
On the open ground, the clone trooper units stood in neat formations.
Infantry, equipment operators, engineers, maintenance troopers, and off-duty personnel from the *Dingyuan* formed square ranks, standing in silent attention.
The clearing was bordered by the base's perimeter wall on one side and the jungle on the other. A large pit had been dug at the jungle's edge, and a makeshift podium had been erected beside it. Solo, Ahsoka, and the battalion commanders stood on the platform.
Solo activated his communicator, sending a signal. Moments later, a procession slowly entered the clearing.
A company of clone troopers marched in perfect unison, escorting several levitating platforms draped with the Republic flag. Beneath the flags lay the bodies of fallen soldiers—both from their own legion and Renan's forces.
Recovering the latter's remains had been particularly difficult, requiring the clones to search every corner of the battlefield.
Solo took a deep breath and activated the universal broadcast channel. He had long forgotten the prepared speech; he decided to speak from the heart.
"I am General Solo Victor."
His voice carried across the open square, reaching every corner of the base.
"Today, we gather here to bid farewell to our brothers and comrades-in-arms."
"They gave their lives to stop the Separatists' destruction and to protect the peace of the galaxy's civilians. This was a glorious sacrifice, the fitting end for true warriors."
He paused, sensing the gaze of tens of thousands of lives through the Force.
The weight of their attention made his spine tingle, yet it also strengthened his resolve.
"They died with honor. We must live on with honor, never betraying their sacrifice."
"Now, let us observe a minute of silence to remember them. May the Force guide them on their new journey."
Silence enveloped the square.
Solo gazed down at the silent clone troopers below, knowing that while his eulogy might not be perfect, it was sincere.
He had to do this, not just to give the fallen clones a dignified farewell, but also for himself.
Over the past three days, too many clone troopers had died before his eyes. Their passing left indelible marks in the Force, ones he could no longer ignore.
He recalled the memories of Order 66, how the clones had been engineered as soldiers programmed to obey commands. For them, obedience was a fundamental survival instinct, etched into their very genes.
Yet now, as he looked at these soldiers who had fought for peace, Solo suddenly felt that perhaps he could do something to avert the future tragedy.
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