20 BBY: 509th Legion Staging Area
"Vrex, take a look at this."
Talek handed over his datapad, his tone carrying an edge of curiosity. Vrex took it, skimming the text before a short chuckle escaped him.
"The Shadows of Kastallax have been reassigned. Effective immediately. We are to report to Task Force 77 as soon as possible."
A bemused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he lowered the device. "Ha, seems like Commander Dax finally reached his limit with us."
Talek scoffed. "What, after all our 'cooperation' and 'strict adherence to protocol'?"
Vrex chuckled, shaking his head. "We may not have always listened to his directives, but our squad always got the job done. Command just doesn't know what to do with a unit like ours."
"So what do they do?" Talek leaned against a crate, crossing his arms. "Ship us off to some new assignment before we cause any more headaches."
Vrex nodded. "They jumped at the opportunity to get rid of us. Won't miss us till we're gone, and by that point, they won't be able to change their minds. Their loss, really."
He straightened, tapping the datapad against his palm before tossing it back to Talek. "Bring in the others. They'll want to hear about this."
Minutes later, Renn and Verik entered the room, their boots clanking against the durasteel floor. They stood at attention, the usual look of wariness replaced by curiosity.
"Renn, reporting."
"Verik, reporting."
Vrex gestured for them to stand easy. "Privates, we've been reassigned."
Renn raised a brow. "Reassigned? What, I thought command loved us."
Verik chuckled. "Yeah, right. I bet they threw a party the second the orders came in."
Vrex smirked. "That's about the size of it." He activated the datapad, displaying the brief orders. "We've been assigned to Task Force 77."
Silence.
Talek scratched his chin. "Task Force 77? Never heard of it. Is it new?"
Vrex shrugged. "The report gives us nothing. No mission details, no unit history—only that we'll be briefed upon arrival." He looked around at his squad. "That means whatever we're walking into is above our usual pay grade."
Verik crossed his arms. "Sounds like Republic black ops. A unit like ours? We fit the bill."
Renn nodded slowly. "Or it's an experimental division, one they don't want tied directly to the main chain of command."
Talek sighed. "Either way, it's better than sitting around waiting for Dax to throw us into another suicide mission."
Vrex glanced at them, then made his decision. "Brothers, I don't know about you, but I don't want to waste any more time. Let's move out."
The squad straightened, their responses swift and unwavering.
"""Yes, sir."""
As the squad ran off, Vrex glanced back at the datapad one last time. Task Force 77. Whatever it was, it would be different from anything they'd faced before.
And that was exactly what they needed.
20 BBY: Anaxes - Task Force 77 HQ
It had taken a week to transfer, but the Shadows of Kastallax finally arrived at Anaxes. They stood inside a LAAT gunship, en route to their new assignment. The steady hum of the engines reverberated through the hull as the gunship cut through the sky, carrying them toward an unknown destination.
Talek glanced across the hold at Vrex, his voice carrying an edge of curiosity. "So, any idea who's leading this?"
Vrex shook his head. "Nothing. It's obviously being kept confidential. Whatever they want us for must be important."
Verik let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, no doubt. As long as we don't get someone like Dax again, I can work with it."
Renn peered out the side. "Seems we're just about here."
As the LAAT began its descent, the squad caught their first glimpse of Task Force 77's headquarters. The facility was tucked away in a remote mountainous region, built into the rock itself. Dark, reinforced durasteel walls jutted out from the mountain face, blending seamlessly into the rugged terrain. The landing pad was small and unassuming, designed for secrecy rather than grandeur. Turrets and sensor arrays dotted the perimeter, a silent warning to any unauthorized visitors.
The blast doors slid open with a sharp hiss, revealing a clone officer standing at attention. His armor bore no markings—except the standard clone commander insignia.
"Shadows of Kastallax, welcome to Task Force 77, codenamed 'Phantom.' The commander is eager to see you."
Vrex stepped forward, shaking the officer's hand. "It's an honor. We hope to accomplish great things here."
The officer nodded. "Please, leave your gear here. We'll have it sent to your barracks. Follow me."
The Shadows moved through the facility, the air thick with an atmosphere of secrecy and precision. The corridors were dimly lit, lined with maintenance panels and terminals. The base was still partially under construction. Unlike traditional Republic bases, there were no standard banners or overt signs of affiliation—just pragmatic, function-first design.
As they walked, they passed clone guards, construction workers, and intelligence officers. The place operated with a different level of discipline—no idle chatter, no wasted movement. The base was organizing itself to accomplish the mission.
Finally, they arrived at a reinforced door flanked by two clone guards. Their visors remained locked forward, unflinching as the officer leading them approached. With a simple nod, the guards stepped aside, allowing the Shadows through.
Inside, a familiar figure stood at a holotable, meticulously analyzing data streams and fleet logistics.
Tanya Valken.
The last time they had seen her, she was being carried off the battlefield, grievously wounded. Yet here she stood—composed, calculating, and already accustomed to her new prosthetic arm. The metallic finish caught the dim light, its polished surface a stark contrast to the shadows cast around her. Despite her youthful appearance, she radiated the presence of someone far beyond her years.
Her piercing green eyes met theirs, and for the briefest moment, something unreadable flickered in her expression before she addressed them.
"Shadows of Kastallax, it's good to see you again."
Vrex stepped forward. "You as well, ma'am. I'm glad to see your speedy recovery."
Tanya gave a curt nod. "Thank you, Sergeant."
Her expression turned serious as she straightened. "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, but before we begin, you need to understand something. Everything we do here is strictly off the books. Your service will not be officially recognized in Republic military records until the war is won."
Her tone was calm, but there was an unspoken gravity behind her words.
"Knowing this, do you still wish to join me?"
There was no hesitation. Vrex responded immediately. "Yes, we understand. Our squadron is under your command."
Tanya's lips quirked slightly—not quite a smile, but something close. "I'm glad to hear it. Let's proceed."
She gestured to the holotable, where a tactical fleet overview flickered in and out of focus. Various ship schematics and battle ships ran across the display.
"I need your opinion on something. We've been given limited resources, and I want to make the most efficient use of them. Our operational force must not impose a logistical burden on the Republic. Your experience in the 509th gives you valuable insight. Tell me what you think of my plan so far."
Tanya's Fleet Proposal: One Acclamator-class Assault Ship – Serves as the mobile command ship, troop deployment, and logistics hub. Two Arquitens-class Light Cruisers – Escort ships equipped for rapid strikes and skirmishes. One Munificent-class Star Frigate (Captured Separatist Vessel) – Used for infiltration operations and hacking enemy networks. Three CR90 Corvettes – Fast attack craft and anti-starfighter defense. Stealth Recon Transports (Custom-Modified LAAT/i Gunships) – Used for the insertion and extraction of operatives. And finally, a wing of ARC-170 Starfighters and V-19 Torrents – Superior to standard Vulture droids in one-on-one dogfights, with heavy payloads for quick raids.
Vrex studied the display for a long moment before speaking.
Tanya turned to Vrex. "I want your squad to have operational input. You're the ones on the ground. If you see a weakness in this composition, now's the time to speak."
"It's a solid foundation. The Acclamator can keep us supplied for extended missions, and the Arquitens gives us the mobility we need for hit-and-run strikes."
Renn pointed to the CR90s. "The corvettes will help us deal with Separatist raiding fleets. But the Munificent-class is a bold move."
Tanya nodded. "It's a risk, but it also gives us an opportunity to gather Separatist intelligence from the inside. With the right slicers, we can tap into their networks."
Verik crossed his arms. "It'll also make for a damn good decoy."
Talek grinned. "And if we need to, we can scuttle it right in their face."
Tanya's eyes gleamed. "Exactly. We use the enemies resources against them."
Vrex spoke with determination. "Well, I think this plan will work. What about you, brothers?"
Renn gave a sharp nod. "I concur."
Talek grinned. "Works for me."
Verik smirked. "Let's do it."
Tanya folded her arms, a small, confident smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, that settles it then."
She turned her gaze back to the holotable, the blue holographic projections casting a glow over her face. "I plan to build this Task Force around the Shadows. If my fleet gets approved, we'll be assigned the necessary crew to commandeer our ships and a regiment of clone troopers specializing in sabotage and infiltration."
Her eyes swept over them, gauging their reactions.
"The Republic is counting on us. The fact that we've been granted these resources only proves how vital our mission is. Failure is not an option."
The Shadows stood at attention, absorbing the weight of her words.
Tanya's voice softened slightly. "I'm sure you've had a long day. Get some rest while you can. Dismissed."
Vrex saluted. "Thank you, Commander."
With that, the squad turned and exited the room, leaving Tanya alone with the silent hum of the holotable. She exhaled slowly, fingers tightening against the console as the weight of command settled on her shoulders.
"I hate war."
20 BBY: Republic Military Command
Wilhuff Tarkin sat at his desk, his sharp gaze scanning the datapad before him. The glow of Coruscant's skyline seeped through the large windows, casting elongated shadows across the room.
Tanya Valken's proposal was thorough—more so than he had anticipated. Her efficiency, attention to logistical constraints, and strategic utilization of limited assets were impressive. Given the constraints she had been working under, she had still managed to construct a viable fleet and operational strategy.
Tarkin had initially doubted the former Jedi's ability to handle large-scale logistics and command. Tactical prowess on the battlefield was one thing, but strategic foresight, delegation, and operational coordination were what truly defined a capable leader.
And yet, she had passed this test.
She may have been the nominal figurehead of Task Force 77, but her authority was provisional. The true architects of her command remained in himself and the Chancellor. If she proved incapable or inefficient, she could be replaced. Her continued usefulness would be determined solely by results.
His fingers tapped lightly against the polished surface of his desk.
The Supreme Chancellor had been particularly invested in Valken's career. Her Specter Strike Maneuver had demonstrated an exceptional grasp of asymmetric warfare. That kind of ingenuity was valuable, but strategy alone was not enough—her ability to execute on a larger scale remained untested.
Tarkin's gaze shifted to another screen, where a stream of military intelligence reports scrolled before him.
The reason for Task Force 77's formation had become even more pressing.
The latest intelligence reports confirmed disturbing developments—sightings of a new Separatist battle droid unlike anything the Republic had faced before.
Tarkin activated the secure hololink embedded in his desk. Within seconds, the blue projection of Armand Isard, Director of Republic Intelligence, materialized before him. A staunch loyalist to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, Isard's piercing gaze swept over Tarkin, his tone as curt and precise as ever.
"Wilhuff Tarkin, how has Task Force 77 progressed? The Chancellor does not like to waste time."
Tarkin clasped his hands behind his back, his voice unwavering. "Progressing smoothly. Commander Tanya Valken has submitted her fleet composition proposal. I have forwarded it for your review."
Isard nodded once, his red-tinted eyes flicking across the incoming data. "Yes... This seems reasonable. Given the latest intelligence, time is of the essence. The Separatists' attack on Kamino has sent the Senate into panic mode. The war faction is pushing for aggressive Republic offensives."
Tarkin leaned forward slightly. "Indeed. And with this proposal, Tanya Valken has demonstrated her ability to work with constraints and organize effectively."
Isard remained silent for a brief moment before his expression darkened. "The latest intelligence reports paint a grim picture, Tarkin. The Separatists have begun deploying a new class of battle droid—a walking fortress designed for total battlefield dominance."
Tarkin's eyes narrowed. "Go on."
A holo-image flickered to life beside Isard, illuminating the ominous shape of the Scorpenek Annihilator Droid—a towering, scorpion-like machine bristling with heavy weaponry. Its thick armor gleamed under the blue projection, its particle-energy shields shimmering faintly around it.
"Officially designated the Scorpenek Annihilator, this model is engineered to counter the Republic's armored divisions and even engage Jedi in direct combat. It stands at nearly 3.5 meters and is built with reinforced composite plating resistant to standard blaster fire. Even our heavier ordnance will struggle to breach its defenses."
Tarkin studied the monstrous war machine as Isard continued.
"It is equipped with twin dual rapid-fire laser cannons for sustained suppressive fire. Its integrated particle-energy shield is as strong as those used by droidekas but on a much larger scale, capable of withstanding repeated bombardment. Even worse, smaller droidekas have been observed maneuvering within its shield barrier, reinforcing its defenses. These are not just war machines—they are mobile fortresses."
Tarkin's jaw tightened. "And how far along is its production?"
Isard exhaled sharply. "Still in the prototype phase… for now. But the Separatists are refining the design rapidly. If these monstrosities reach full-scale deployment, the war will shift irreversibly in their favor."
Tarkin nodded grimly, already considering countermeasures. "That will not happen. Task Force 77 will ensure these war machines never reach the front lines. That being said, I request one final test for the girl—to confirm, beyond any doubt, that the Jedi Order's influence has been purged from her."
Isard frowned. "This Task Force is critical, and she already has the Chancellor's backing. Why test her now?"
Tarkin remained firm. "Because her usefulness is not yet assured. She has demonstrated tactical acumen and resourcefulness, but her experience against the Separatists in large-scale engagements remains insufficient. The Jedi have dictated the course of this war—she needs to see their failures firsthand."
Isard's expression remained skeptical. "I hear she has already denounced the Jedi. Why have her do this now?"
Tarkin's voice carried the weight of certainty. "Not merely saying—understanding. The Republic cannot afford leaders who hesitate when the time comes to make necessary decisions. When the Chancellor executes his vision, she must be prepared to serve without reservation."
Isard studied him for a moment before exhaling. "If you believe this is necessary, I won't oppose it—so long as Task Force 77 remains on schedule. The Chancellor has placed his faith in this girl, Tarkin. See to it that she does not fail us."
Tarkin's lips pressed into a thin line. "She won't."
The transmission cut off.
Without hesitation, Tarkin pressed a button on his desk, sending his official approval through the Republic's command network. The mission was greenlit. Task Force 77 would proceed as planned.
But before Valken could claim full command of her fleet, she needed to pass one last test.
20 BBY: Anaxes - Task Force 77 HQ
Sitting in my office on Anaxes, I leaned back in my chair, cradling a steaming cup of coffee—the one reliable constant in my life. The approval for my fleet had finally come through, only taking a few days to cut through the tangled mess of Republic military bureaucracy like a rare, sharp blade in a drawer full of dull knives.
It would take months before everything was fully assembled. Annoying, but for a newly formed task force, this level of speed was practically a miracle. Efficient, streamlined, and already set in motion. Exactly how I like things. I suppose even the Republic occasionally stumbles into competence.
But now came the less pleasant part—choosing a second-in-command.
The Shadows would handle the dirty work: ground operations, infiltration, and generally making Separatist lives miserable. That left me with fleet command and the delightful task of overseeing the entire operation. But with this, I couldn't choose. And here I thought Tarkin said I would be selecting my staff. Well, there's no point in dwelling on it now. The decision has already been made, and I doubt he will make any more concessions than he already has.
A newbie. Lovely. An officer with some combat experience, but not enough to be a seasoned veteran. It's like being handed a junior analyst in the middle of a corporate merger and being told, "Here, train them while managing the entire deal." Great. Just what I needed.
Still, I've worked with worse. Proficiency can be cultivated, and even raw talent can be refined with enough time and pressure. If this officer has even a shred of adaptability, I'll mold her into something useful. After all, an officer who can't learn from their mistakes is just a liability waiting to happen.
If she turns out to be another self-important bureaucrat with delusions of grandeur, well... there's always a spare desk job in the rear lines. But for her sake, let's hope she's worth the caffeine I'm sacrificing for this.
I frowned slightly, flipping through the datapad containing the officer's dossier. This situation reminds me of my former adjutant, Visha. A competent person I could rely on was invaluable, someone who could anticipate needs and execute orders without hesitation. I would kill to have a partner like that again.
Elara Voss, according to her record, has limited experience serving on a CR90 Corvette as a tactical officer. She has been involved in multiple engagements against the Separatists. She has been described as a quick thinker under pressure, with strong analytical skills and adaptability, but sometimes fails to see the larger strategic picture. I can work with this. She at least seems to have some merit. An officer who can learn from their mistakes and think on the fly is crucial for their role. Officers who are too full of themselves to adapt are liabilities waiting to happen.
Scrolling further through her file, I found a personnel photo. Older than most officers in her position, I noted, probably in her mid-to-late thirties—practically ancient by military standards these days. Dark, shoulder-length black hair framed sharp, angular features, and her hazel eyes, even in a static image, had an intense, calculating quality. There was something seasoned about her, a kind of quiet confidence that suggested she'd been through enough to know better than to boast about it. A faint scar under her jawline hinted at her experience, and the precise neatness of her uniform, even in the photo, told me she wasn't one to slack on discipline.
Adaptable, older, perceptive... I can work with that, I thought.
I sighed. I'm not thrilled about training someone new, but at least there is time. The Task Force isn't in active combat yet, which means I can assess the officer's competence before any real damage could be done.
"Let's see if you're worth my time."
The day finally came when I would meet the commander of Task Force 77.
I adjusted my uniform, smoothing out the creases and ensuring my insignia was perfectly aligned. Tanya Valken. I had only caught the name, but I knew one thing for sure. The Republic wasn't known for assigning key positions lightly, so either she was exceptionally capable—or dangerously ambitious.
I can only hope she is like the Jedi. They are the Republic's champions, symbols of justice and sacrifice, after all. Defenders of our principles, sworn to uphold peace across the galaxy.
I clenched my hands briefly before exhaling, forcing myself to relax. It didn't matter. I was here for a reason. Republic Command had chosen me for this assignment, and while I hadn't been given many details, I knew better than to question orders. There was a war to win, and I intended to prove my worth.
As my transport broke through the cloud cover, the Republic outpost came into view—my new home. Task Force 77 was unlike any other assignment I had received. The secrecy surrounding it, the lack of available information in the records... it all pointed to something significant. If I wanted to make an impact, I needed to show I belonged here. One way or another, I would make myself indispensable.
The shuttle's gravity repulsor hummed as it swooped down to the platform. As the doors opened, I was greeted by a clone trooper already waiting for me. His armor was unmarked—no rank insignia, no battalion colors. That was highly irregular.
I had never seen clones without identifying markings. Every unit I had worked with before bore some sign of their legion, squad, or specialization. Yet, this trooper's armor was pristine, featureless.
"Welcome, Elara Voss." His voice was level, professional. "Please follow me."
I fell in step behind him, my gaze flicking across the facility as we moved. The hallways were alive with activity—troopers on patrol, officers exchanging reports, mouse droids zipping across the floor. This place is bustling with activity.
After a few twists and turns, we arrived at a reinforced door guarded by two clones. Their armor was heavier than standard trooper gear, with visors that concealed their expressions. The trooper leading me stepped forward and exchanged clearance codes.
A metallic hiss signaled the door's opening.
I stepped inside and immediately took in the girl sitting behind the desk.
For a brief moment, I hesitated.
She looked like a child.
This is not exactly what I had in mind. She was small, almost deceptively so, yet there was something in her posture—something about the way she held herself—that made it clear she was no ordinary child.
Her aura of authority was undeniable.
There was none of the warmth or measured patience I had come to associate with the Jedi. No serene wisdom. Instead, she radiated something else entirely—calculated intensity. Her piercing green eyes locked onto me, assessing, judging.
I stiffened, straightening into a crisp salute.
"Elara Voss reporting for duty."
Tanya leaned back slightly in her chair, arms folded, regarding me with unreadable scrutiny.
Then, she smirked.
"Elara Voss, welcome to the team." Her voice was cool, confident—unshaken. "The clankers have a rough time ahead of them."
She paused, then tilted her head slightly, as if considering something.
"I wouldn't want to be them."
I met her gaze. "Yes, ma'am. They do indeed."
Suddenly, the door slid open. Talek entered, his expression urgent.
"Sorry to interrupt, ma'am. It's important. Tarkin wants to speak with you both immediately."
I subconsciously straightened my posture. Tarkin? A man of his status doesn't waste time on pleasantries. If he was calling both of us, then this is important.
"Put him through immediately," Tanya ordered.
As the hologram flickered to life, Tanya's reaction was immediate. She stiffened, bowing slightly as the imposing figure of Wilhuff Tarkin materialized before us.
I wasn't expecting to speak with one of the most influential figures in the Republic military on my first day. Did I do something wrong already?
Tarkin's cold, calculating gaze swept over us before he spoke.
"Colonel Tanya Valken, your swift progress has pleased me." His tone was measured. "I see you've been introduced to Elara Voss."
Tanya nodded. "Yes, sir. Everything is proceeding smoothly. I believe Elara will be a valuable asset to our mission."
I resisted the urge to exhale in relief. At least Tanya wasn't throwing me under the speeder—yet.
Tarkin's gaze shifted to me. "Elara, the Republic is counting on you. This mission is of great importance to our war effort."
I met his eyes and responded firmly. "I won't fail them, sir."
My words were automatic, but the weight behind them was suffocating. Tarkin wasn't just another officer—he was one of the Republic's most ruthless strategists. If Tanya could survive working under him, then she must have grown up quickly to make it this far at such a young age.
Tarkin continued, "Commanding a fleet is no small task. I believe a great opportunity has arisen for you both to gain firsthand experience."
A holographic map flickered into existence beside him. It displayed a war-torn world, its surface blanketed in darkness.
Umbara.
"The secession of Umbara has created a volatile situation on the front. The Republic intends to retake it, you two will be sent as officers to observe and advise our Jedi Generals. You'll be stationed aboard a Venator under Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi. From there you will follow his directives. Report there as soon as you can. He will be waiting."
The words hit me like a shockwave. Obi-Wan Kenobi? One of the most revered Jedi in the Republic's history. I barely processed the rest of what Tarkin said as the transmission abruptly cut out.
I turned to Tanya, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of something—genuine dread flashing across her face.
Damn it.
I barely kept my frustration in check. I thought I was safe as my fleet was being assembled. Instead I was being sent to a battlefield I had no interest in. Observation? Advisory role? The Jedi don't need my advice—they won't even listen. If Tarkin wanted someone to babysit them, why did it have to be me?
I clenched my jaw, keeping my expression neutral. Showing frustration here would be a mistake.
Elara glanced at me, clearly trying to gauge my reaction. I forced a neutral expression and crossed my arms.
"Pack your things. We're leaving as soon as possible."
She hesitated. "Are you… alright with this assignment?"
I narrowed my eyes. "That depends. Are you alright with working under a Jedi?"
Elara hesitated for a moment before responding, "I admire the Jedi. They are Republic heroes."
I scoffed. "Let's see how you feel after this mission."
Without another word, I turned on my heel, walking toward my quarters to prepare.