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Taylor clenched her fists as the shockwave from the explosion rippled through the air. The sight of the blast and its aftermath made her insides twist with a mix of frustration and fear. She had anticipated trouble, but this? Suicide bombers? It was worse than she'd imagined.

Asajj leaned forwards and was practically pressing her nose to the holoprojection Tattletale was throwing up in the air. Fortunately, Taylor didn't need that to know what was going on. She'd long since filled the area with small gnat-like insects and a few other strange bugs that allowed her to see what was happening. A few dozen had been wiped out along with the terrorists, but... she still had more.

Through the myriad eyes of her insects scattered across the area, she saw the chaos unfolding. Jedi scrambled to shield the padawans, their movements swift and deliberate, while smoke billowed out from the building's entrance. The battle had begun in earnest.

She didn't know what the Jedi were thinking sometimes. Arraying themselves out in a line in front of an enemy fortification, even if it was an urban one? That was asking to be shot at.

Better to wait for the local equivalent of SWAT to show up, experts in this kind of thing. Send in droids, maybe? They were disposable enough that a few traps going off and taking them would be expensive but not terrible.

But no, they'd stood out in the open.

The Roshu Sune weren't waiting for the dust to settle. Armed gotal poured out of the building, blasters firing erratically.

Taylor winced and almost snapped out to HK-47, ordering him to send her droids out to help. More gunfire came pouring out of windows and the Jedi were being mow--

Taylor blinked as all the Jedi moved with uncanny fluidity. Their lightsabers lit up, long glowing beams in the dust, and with almost dance-like grace, they started to bat aside laser bolts.

She felt her breath catch as she watched. It was... beautiful, in a way. Deadly, but beautiful.

"HK-47," she snapped, her voice cutting through the rising tension. "Deploy the droids. Non-lethal force only. Focus on suppressing fire and protecting the Jedi."

The assassin droid turned to her, head tilting with a faint whir of servos. "Query: Are you certain, Master? Surely these Jedi do not require our assistance."

"They're handling themselves well enough, but I think they'll need the help. They're just standing there." She froze for a moment as one Jedi reached a hand out and a Roshu Sune soldier went flying back. More telekinesis. These Jedi were full of tricks, weren't they? Bolts were sometimes deflected right back at their shooters as well, and the front of the building was soon peppered with little holes.

"Equivocating: Of course, my esteemed and ever-wise master, it is abundantly clear—even to one of such humble standing as myself—that the esteemed Jedi, those paragons of discipline and guardians of peace, justice, and the galaxy at large, do not, at this precise moment in the cosmic tapestry of unfolding events, require even the most minuscule iota of our otherwise undoubtedly invaluable assistance, as they appear, by all accounts and observations, to be holding their own with a level of competence and self-sufficiency that is, frankly, more than sufficient for the situation at hand..."

"HK," Taylor snapped. "Are you taking longer to answer so that more Jedi die before you deploy our droids?"

"Query: Was that question hyperbole?"

She glared, even though she knew her mask hid it. "Deploy the droids, HK. Shoot the terrorists."

"Reply: As you command, master." HK-47 turned to the waiting droids, his servos whirring as he barked out commands. "Directive: Engage the organics with extreme prejudice. Non-lethal protocols enabled. Ensure that none of the master's allies are inconvenienced by misplaced munitions."

Her droids snapped to attention. "Roger roger," they chorused as one before they spun on their heels and stomped towards the side door of their van. Taylor reached out and punched the button to open the door.

A wash of dust slid into the compartment, as well as the unfiltered noise of lightsabers humming and blaster fire.

The droids moved with a synchronized precision that almost rivaled the Jedi. They spread out, forming a semi-circle that pressed towards the building. Their blasters hissed with carefully measured stun bolts, each shot calculated to subdue rather than kill. Taylor watched as a few Roshu Sune fighters were struck mid-step, crumpling to the ground before they could fire again.

She focused, her mind slipping into the familiar rhythm of multitasking as she guided her insects through the chaos. Bugs buzzed into the faces of gunmen, crawled into their collars, or swarmed around their weapons. The effect was subtle, but she saw its results—shots went wide, blaster rifles dropped to the ground as panicked fingers swatted at the air, and one soldier screamed and ran from a harmless but very persistent swarm of flies.

"Interesting tactic," Asajj commented from behind her, her tone dripping with skepticism. "A pity your swarm is more irritating than deadly."

Taylor glanced back at the young woman... well, young-ish. Asajj had to be older than Taylor herself, she figured, but sometimes it felt like she was a million years old. "Do you need to breathe?" Taylor asked.

Asajj leaned back a little. "What? Yes, of course."

"Then don't underestimate even a single bug," Taylor replied before she swept out of the transport.

Her boots crunched against the dirt and debris scattered across the tarmac. She adjusted her mask, tightening its fit as she surveyed the battlefield. The fighting was still confined to the street. The Jedi weren't pressing, which was a shame, as the Rhosue Sune within their little fortress were gathering explosives and larger guns.

The Jedi had no sense of larger tactics, she realized. They were being hyper-focused on the fight in front of them.

Still, the Jedi moved with a fluidity that bordered on hypnotic. She watched as one—Master Saesee Tiin—deflected a barrage of blaster bolts with almost lazy precision. His saber danced in tight, economical arcs, the green blade leaving faint trails in the dusty air. Nearby, another Jedi used the Force to shove a group of Roshu Sune fighters back into cover, their weapons clattering uselessly as they tumbled.

Taylor couldn't deny it anymore: these Jedi weren't just dangerous—they were masterful. "They're not just warriors," Taylor muttered, mostly to herself. "They're... artists."

HK-47 came to stand next to her, his rifle held by his hip aiming outwards, but he wasn't firing just yet. "Observation: The Jedi's skill is impressive, Master, though I suspect they would be far less graceful if they were on fire. Suggestion: Master, we could equip your personal retinue of guard droids with flamethrowers."

She frowned. It could be a viable counter. "Look into it," she said. "Maybe smaller, underbarrel flamethrowers?"

Her droids pressed forward. The Roshu Sune's disorganised ranks couldn't hold up against the combined pressure of Jedi and droids. Her mechanical troops worked efficiently, laying down suppressive fire with their stun blasters while systematically closing the distance to subdue any remaining terrorists.

She winced as one of her droids ate a few shots to the chest and crashed back down, very much dead. Getting replacements was going to be tricky, but if she did a good enough job here, she suspected that Dooku would give her as many droids as she could handle and more.

She tilted her head, focusing on a small group of Roshu Sune trying to flank the Jedi from an alleyway. Her swarm surged toward them—flies, gnats, and beetles swarming into their helmets and optics. A blaster bolt flew wide, ricocheting off a streetlamp before fizzling out harmlessly into the ground.

Asajj held herself just out of Taylor's range, her twin lightsabers lit, though she wasn't getting much by means of opportunity to use them.

"Asajj," Taylor said. "Take four droids with you. Storm the building. Keep some prisoners alive, but don't let them see you kill their own."

Asajj grinned. "Finally," she said before gesturing to four of the nearest droids. She walked towards the building with a rolling gait to her hips and with her sabers held low.

Taylor refocused. Some of the Jedi had fallen back to a building across the street. They were being pinned down by a clever gotal who'd set up a heavy machine gun on the roof.

"Droids. That part of the roof. Fire into the building there. Lethal measures."

People often forgot that while walls blocked vision, they were rarely strong enough to block a barrage of gunfire. Laser fire counted.

There was no capturing that one alive, unfortunately, but he was a threat.

The Jedi seized the opportunity. They surged forward, their sabers carving a path through the remaining resistance. Taylor watched and judged. They were stronger than they should have been, at least those who were human and within her capability to judge. Faster too.

So, a low Thinker rating for their slight precognition, and a Mover/Brute rating as well.

Nothing too impressive, in the grand scheme of things, but it was a neat package, and there wasn't just one to deal with. She might be able to justify a Shaker rating as well, with their telekinesis.

Their lightsabers were interesting weapons, but they weren't as impressive as, say, a primed thermal detonator. She had to do away with any of the PRT's scaling for Tinker-tech. A lot of that kind of thing was merely mundane here.

The fight ended somewhat anticlimactically. Asajj got to sate her bloodlust within, and was soon joined by a few Jedi who made a point of disarming and capturing the Roshu Sune without harming them too much.

The Roshu Sune resistance crumbled completely within minutes. Her droids began the cleanup operation, methodically restraining prisoners and stacking confiscated weapons in neat piles. Taylor stepped forward, making sure her masked figure was visible among the aftermath. That, and her power over people made handling prisoners quite easy.

The Jedi stayed apart from her the entire time.

"Master," HK-47 said, stepping up beside her, "the media van is en route and should arrive within moments. May I suggest striking an appropriately heroic pose?"

Taylor snorted. "Thanks, HK," she said. "Make sure our droids look good. Do we have that Separatist flag in the van? Good, get it out and have it placed on the van's side. This is about PR more than anything, now."

"Dry rejoinder: of course, Master."

The local police was here, as well as paramedics and emergency services. A large hovercraft with tanks stuck to it started to hose down a powdery chemical onto any opened fires.

Then the media arrived.

A van skidded to a halt nearby, its holo-camera already extended and recording. Taylor adjusted her stance, her insects subtly dispersing to make her silhouette clearer against the smoky backdrop.

The reporter, a tall gotal man with a shock of unruly hair, scrambled out of the van. His gaze darted nervously between the Jedi, the droids, and Taylor. He clutched his microphone like a lifeline.

Taylor smiled, even if he couldn't see it, and walked over. "Hello. I'm afraid that we can't allow reporters within the premises, but I can answer any question you may have," she said. She was aware of her accent, and was speaking slowly and as clearly as possible. It helped that a lot of what she had to say were things that she had rehearsed already.

The reporter hesitated for a moment, then positioned himself just behind a temporary safety fence that local authorities had hastily erected. Other reporters began gathering alongside him, their cameras and microphones trained on Taylor as she approached with calm, deliberate steps. Her droids flanked her, standing tall and imposing, with a few strategically posed behind her, clearly visible to the hovering cameras.

The reporter cleared his throat. "Master Jedi," he began, his voice wavering slightly, "can you tell us what just happened here? What role did the Separatists play in this operation?"

Taylor tilted her head, letting a moment of silence stretch out before responding. "The Roshu Sune, a group of dangerous terrorists, had entrenched themselves here, threatening the peace and safety of Antar IV. Today, we—the Separatists—worked alongside the Jedi of the Galactic Republic to ensure that threat was neutralised. I'm afraid that I'm no Master Jedi, I am Darth Khepri, of the Separatists.

"The Separatists have no tolerance for groups like the Roshu Sune. Their actions are not only violent but dishonourable. We are here to protect the people of Antar IV, both the Gotal and other citizens, from such vile threats."

A murmur rippled through the gathered reporters as they jotted down notes and whispered to one another. Another reporter, a human woman with a holo-recorder hovering over her shoulder, raised her voice. "But the Separatists have been accused of supporting insurgent groups in the past. How do you respond to those allegations?"

Taylor clasped her hands behind her back. "Those allegations are unfounded," she said smoothly. "The Separatist movement is dedicated to ensuring freedom and safety for all beings in the galaxy. We do not support terror. Today is proof of that—when faced with the Roshu Sune's violence, we acted decisively to bring them to justice. Their actions do not align with our values, nor will we ever allow them to tarnish the movement we represent."

The human reporter nodded, though her recorder lingered on the captured Roshu Sune and the Separatist droids.

The Gotal reporter spoke up again, his voice a little steadier now. "Why was it necessary for the Separatists to act here? Why not leave it to the Republic and its Jedi? Do you see this as overstepping your bounds?"

Taylor let a faint pause hang in the air, calculated and deliberate. She shifted slightly, letting the Separatist flag newly mounted on one of the droids flutter in the background. "The Jedi were brave, and their actions were commendable," she began. "But it is no secret that the Republic's response to crises like this can be... delayed. My comrades and I received word of the Roshu Sune's actions and mobilised immediately to protect Antar IV's people. We did not wait for politics or bureaucracy to decide whether lives were worth saving." She made a point of looking over her shoulder. Saesee Tiin was coming over. "I'm afraid that is all the time I have. Sorry. But I will say this: we are stronger together. Cooperation, not division, is the key to peace."

She moved closer to the Jedi master, then veered off towards her van. The master paused, then followed her, almost spurning the media.

The poor fool had no idea what kind of game he was playing, and he had just passed on his opening turns.

***