"Are you sure we can trust that Gungan of hers?" Sol Sixxa asked, walking alongside Vader as they made their way through a bustling host of soldiers within the forest. It was mainly Gungans, with their own Anti-Federation troops as well: Humans and Meres for the most part. Most of the Vulptereens were still in space, being the best pilots of the Anti-Federationists.
"You refer to Jar Jar Binks," Vader noted neutrally, keeping an extra sense on the nearest pile of Gungan bombs. He had no desire to test how his upgraded, insulated cybernetics faired against those at the moment. Against most normal electric-based weaponry, he'd be fine. But Boomas were plasma-based and had other properties. They worked on General Grievous, so Vader took that as a reason to not assume himself immune to them.
"That blasted fool nearly died five times the first day on the Clamator," Sol retorted in annoyance, looking over to see one of his fellow Meres instructing the Gungans on some of the weak points on a droid. The head was obvious, but several other points could quickly take a droid out of commission; Federation cheapness at its finest. Where to hit the tanks, now that was trickier.
"Yet he did not," Vader reminded meaningfully.
The amphibious humanoid eyed the Sith Lord and came to a halt. "If there's something important about him, I'd like to know it before we get into the thick of it," Sol stated pointedly.
Vader stopped as well, turning to the rebel. "Jar Jar Binks is a very...fortunate individual," he said in a deliberately vague manner.
"You mean he's lucky?" Sol asked skeptically. "I thought you Force-Types didn't believe in stuff like that?"
"He somehow survived getting lost on Coruscant and encountered at least two other Sith Lords in the same standard day, and one assisted him in finding his way back to the Queen," Vader stated bluntly.
Sol stared for a moment, looking just a bit unnerved. "Did one of those two cause the storm?" he asked carefully.
"Indeed. It is almost as if he is so incompetent that he becomes competent by pure accident," Vader stated in complete seriousness. While he was stretching it a bit in regards to this timeline, he was convinced some aspect of the Force kept an eye on the Gungan because Jar Jar Binks had, somehow, survived the Emperor's rise to power. He had expected the Gungan to wind up dead within the month after the rise of the Empire, but no, Sidious deliberately let the annoying Gungan live…for no apparent reason. It bothered Vader more than it should.
Both Sol and Vader looked over to see Jar Jar trying to mount a Kaadu...and somehow, he ended up sitting on it backward. "Oh no," Jar Jar moaned, trying to turn around before gracelessly falling off.
"Luck it is then," Sol accepted, knowing better than to question some quirks of the galaxy. "The droid army may be efficient in mobilizing, but it will still need time to get here."
"Will that be enough for your scheme?" Vader asked, his stare intense despite the mask blocking his eyes.
"It should be. These droids aren't that smart. Honestly, if we had a bit more time, I'd try lining the entire hill with explosives," Sol stated with a gurgling sound, his kind's version of a hum, before taking a step closer to Vader.
Vader was almost impressed by the Mere's lack of fear.
"The Queen and the Duke want Gunray alive. For good reason, I know," Sol said lowly. "But Gunray is better dead than free."
"Agreed," Vader answered, glancing to the side as she saw Padme discussing something with Gungans and humans alike. "I can sense your feelings, Sol."
The mere tensed, stepping back a bit. "So, those stories about Jedi are true as well," he said uneasily.
"You believe she is too weak for this," Vader stated bluntly.
"Too soft," Sol corrected meaningfully. "Gunray is weak. She's strong, coming back here proves that. She's just too...idealistic."
"I am surprised you see a distinction," Vader noted idly. "Gunray will leave this planet a captive or a corpse."
Sol gave a small, dark smirk. "Glad we are in agreement."
"Darka Vada!"
Both glanced to see the approach of Boss Nass, prompting Sol to politely leave as the Gungan leader approached the Sith. Vader offered no reply, simply staring at Nass with what patience he could muster.
"Jar Jar Binks tellen mesa that yous be berry bombad warrior, maken machineek boss a fraidee frog. That yousa like a Jedi, but not," Nass stated, sizing up the dark warrior.
"Is there a question?" Vader inquired coldly, the air becoming frigid in his presence. Other Gungans shivered and moved away from the physical and spiritual chill, but not Boss Nass. Only he kept his composure.
"Jedi mesa hear notta interfere mui. Day, um, peacamaken, deal-speaken. So why yousa hair?" Nass asked with a loud hum.
"I am a Sith," Vader answered bluntly. "And I am here because I desire to be."
The Gungan leader eyed him for a second longer before breaking into a boisterous grin. "Meesa just liken to know who wesa fighten wid," he said with a nod before moving past the cyborg.
Vader remained unmoved as Nass walked by him. Vader could sense it in the Force, that Nass didn't trust him. That smile was for show. It didn't matter much to Vader, so long as Nass wasn't plotting to betray them in the midst of battle. And Vader knew the Gungans wouldn't.
He made sure of that.
Flashback
Only hours ago, the Gungans had been far less welcoming to them, even in comparison to the original timeline.
After all, Vader didn't remember the Gungans looking this ready to attack. Some of the warriors were giving Padme rather nasty looks, but they didn't attempt anything, so neither did Vader.
Another interesting deviation, Padme opted not to hide behind her body double when they met Boss Nass. A move Panaka was not happy with but he did nothing to stop her. Nor did Vader, but he did keep a rather hawkish watch over the area for any attempt on her life.
"Whysa me trusten you any more than the machineek boss?" Boss Nass asked, glaring at Amidala with his arms crossed.
"I know that our people have been often at odds, Your Excellency," Padme said firmly. "But surely you know that this is a threat to all that call Naboo home?"
"Yesa. Machineek will bad newsy for swamps, for all world. But wesa not fight just for Naboo to keep it," Boss Nass said unyieldingly. "Wesa take the moon, and let machineek boss take the Naboo."
Padme narrowed her eyes. Boss Nass was willing to sell out her and her people for his own. She couldn't decide if she hated or sympathized with him in this moment. Was it possible to do both?
Vader watched the exchange intently. There was something profound about this meeting for him, seeing such a stark difference in how events played out. True, there was everything on Coruscant, but this was different. This change wasn't something he had a hand in; it was a ripple effect from his actions. Gunray offered Boss Nass an olive branch this time, so the Gungan leader was even less inclined to help the humans of Naboo. A simple act of humility on Padme's part wouldn't be enough to sway him now.
"Whatever deal you have made," Sol Sixxa said suddenly, stepping forward. "Is as good as shadow and dust."
"Who this?" Nass demanded with a frown.
"One whose planet is lost to the "Machineek Boss" as you call him," Sol said before turning to Padme. "Forgive me, Queen, but I've seen this too many times to be silent."
Padme nodded, in understanding and permission.
Sol turned back to Nass with a cold expression. "You think you're getting something out of this. All you will get is time. Time to see the Trade Federation betray you. Stab you in the back. Take everything that was ever important to you, everything you built, and watch as they grind it to paste and sell it for cheap."
Nass glared at the Mere, looking over the non-human intently as his own warriors shared troubled murmurs.
"Yes," Sol said suddenly, knowingly. "My world is as beautiful as yours; More so, perhaps. All of it is beneath the waves. And still, despite living in the depths, the Federation took my world."
"And ours."
Boss Nass turned to stare incredulously down at the smaller creature. "What disa now?" he asked, more curious than annoyed this time as the squat being made his way forth.
"I am a Vulptureen, Boss Nass," Sod Gert greeted with a nod. "My world, too, was taken by the Trade Federations. But unlike Sol Sixxa, I have no hope to retake my people's home. It is ruined. Pollution and desolation rule there now, and I doubt it will ever heal from what the Federation has done to it."
"Yousa say your planets taken. Easy to say. Yoursa say I should not believe Machineek boss, but your hooman boss?" Boss Nass retorted pointedly.
"I am not their leader, Boss Nass, I am their ally," Padme denied simply.
The Gungan remained skeptical, leering at them with mistrust and near hostility as his warriors looked tensed to strike.
Sod Gert took a step closer, albeit slowly. "I understand, Boss Nass, the urge to mistrust humans. That is how the Federation came to us. They promised us prosperity and solidarity against humancentrism. We...I was young and foolish," Sod Gert said solemnly. "If you will not speak with the Queen of Naboo, I ask you to speak with me. As one leader to another, trying to make a place my people might call home again."
Boss Nass studied the small alien for a long moment before nodding, croaking orders for his warriors to lower their weapons.
Padme look to Panaka and noted the tension in his shoulders lessening as the Gungans became less hostile. He met her gaze before instantly looking just beyond her. She turned and scowled, seeing that Vader was no longer watching the event, but staring off into the forest, as if in deep thought…or deep concentration.
End of Flashback
Sod Gert and Boss Nass had been in a deep, private conversation by the time the news arrived that the Federation envoys had suddenly tried to attack the Gungan envoys. It had been enough to anger the Gungans into siding with them in wanting to throw the droids off this world.
Manipulating on the political stage wasn't always his strong suit, but applying it to battle? He could manage to convince a faction to work against his enemies, for one battle at least. After all, it was rather easy to turn a negotiation into a firefight when a droid's finger "malfunctioned" on the trigger.
He doubted any of his allies besides Padme would object too much to his methods this time around. It united the Gungans with their side and saved the amphibious natives of Naboo the fate of inevitably being turned upon by the Trade Federation.
And if they did protest, it wasn't Vader's concern. He was an ally to this alliance, not a member of it. Still, he'd do everything within his power to evade becoming an enemy of Padme's new allies. After all, they were surprisingly competent. He wondered whatever happened to them in the past timeline. The best guess he could form was that they never had this opportunity, a moment they could seize and show themselves as a force against the Federation. In the ten years between now and the Clone Wars, they likely went their own ways of accomplishing their own goals.
That, or Sidious had their group neutralized in some way.
Vader almost hummed as he watched the army prepare. His understanding of the grand plan his old timeline's versions of Sidious and Plagueis created involved a lot of Palpatine smothering or eliminating many events that would have set off the powder keg too early. Because if it did, that meant Sidious couldn't control the war from all sides.
But Sidious was dead. So even after they won this, how long until that bomb went off? How long could the Republic and the Jedi hold it all together?
Not long enough, Vader was sure. Not nearly long enough.
Meanwhile
Daulty Dofine was often considered a coward even by his own fearful kind. In some ways, that had worked to his advantage. He had wormed his way into being a captain through his own groveling and brownnosing instead of relying on his family connections. Because, being the runt of the brood, he had no desire to owe anything to any of his relatives. Because they would collect in interest, just as he would in turn.
But his fears could be conquered in the name of three things: profits, self-preservation, and his hatred for his enemies. He had taken many risks and made many enemies in his practices, giving exploitive fees and overcharging whenever he could, which led to the whole incident of Dorvalla.
Fear did not cripple him from acting; it motivated him- if it was to save his own skin, at least. That was why he had always been so skeptical about working under this mysterious Sith lord, the cost of joining the Viceroy's inner circle. Oh, Dofine was under no delusion that Darth Sidious could and would have him killed, Hath had been proof of that, but the fear that motivated him to speak against this alliance was that his life was very low on the totem pole of concerns the Sith had. He'd be cast aside much more easily than he liked to think about. Rune was more valuable than himself in the grand scheme of things.
But if there was one thing Dofine hated, it was humans….some much more than others. He had a general distaste for all non-Neimoidians. The galaxy saw them as cowards, as weak-willed creatures, yet they were the ones that commanded the Trade Federation! They were the ones that were bringing order to the Outer Rim! Clearly, his kind was superior to the foolish, "braver" races that polluted the galaxy.
He could tolerate most other kinds, especially if it was to his own gain. But humans? He despised that many of them attempted to usurp the powers and influence the Neimoidians had gathered at the helm of the Trade Federation; Humancentrism. Just thinking of it left a rotten taste in his mouth. If anything, he was jealous. Humanity had the luck of being the most distributed creatures in the galaxy, breeding like an infestation. Enough to actually apply their humancentric desires on most planets. It was part of why he enjoyed swindling humans the most, reminding them they were not the masters of the galaxy. Perhaps one day, his kind would be though.
All of this festered within him as he stewed aboard his ship. Despite detesting humans, he would admit that they had many good phrases for various situations, such as "snapping under stress" or something like that. And he was becoming convinced that Gunray had indeed snapped under the stress of this operation; or rather, the stress of fearing Sidious.
Some great disaster had befallen Coruscant, something related to a storm. There had also been reports of a battle involving the Jedi, but none knew who against. Or at least, none knew before Gunray had ordered all communications to be cut off. It wasn't a...horrible decision, really. Gunray was Viceroy, but he could still be replaced if enough of his minions in the upper ranks of the Federation believed that Gunray had lost his mind. They were loyal to Gunray, in a Neimoidian way, but none of their kind would stay with the captain that refused to leave a doomed ship.
However, Dofine conceded that Gunray wasn't insane for wanting to stay. He just feared Sidious more than whatever damage his reputation would take. But this "simple operation" had become something else. Even now, their droids were mobilizing on the planet to fight the non-human natives that the queen that somehow rallied to her side. He had all vulture droids on standby, just in case the request for air support came in.
Still, there had been no communication with the Dark Lord. They were flying blind. It was time to concede that Sidious was dead, incapacitated, or otherwise had abandoned them. That this operation had failed. True, they could probably hold the planet, but was it really profitable to do so, now that the Naboo and the primitives were working together? If Rune wasn't injured and unconscious, Dofine would seriously consider a small coup against Gunray.
The only reason he hadn't broached the topic already was that he was captain of the Vuutun Palaa. His life was not in any danger up here. What hope did these creatures have against a lucrehulk, let alone three?"
"Sir! Incoming craft!"
Dofine was shaken from his dark thoughts as the alarms blared over the command deck. "Naboo ships?" he questioned, wondering why they hadn't been alerted beforehand. They were monitoring the planet for any signatures of space vessels that weren't their own.
"Negative, Sir!" a fellow neimoidian informed as the display turned to show the void of space.
Or what should be the void of space.
"What is that?!" Dofine demanded in surprise, anger, and fear; because he was clearly staring at a battleship, one almost half as large as a lucrehulk. There weren't supposed to be any ships like that involved in this operation. Naboo had only guards, not an army or navy! "Where did it come from!?"
"Unknown, Sir. No clear known markings and they are refusing all of our attempts to hail them," the officer answered. "Readings suggest they have been traveling at sublight speeds to avoid being detected using hyperspace."
Dofine didn't like this. But the odds were in his favor. This wasn't Dorvalla. They had better ships and weapons now. One clunky battleship wasn't enough to take on the Federation.
"The unknown craft's weapons appear to be charging, and starfighters are disembarking from it, moving into attack position," the neimoidian reported urgently, looking to Dofine for direction. "Orders, Captain?"
"Send out the vulture droids," Dofine ordered grimly. "And send a report to Gunray!"
After all, the Viceroy should know that they were no longer just facing Naboo and its Queen anymore.
Meanwhile
OOM-9 deduced that this operation was vital.
While that could be said for all tasks, the Command Unit's programming lead him to believe that eliminating this army of organic primitives was a greater priority than simply occupying the planet. Why, he was not sure, only that the Viceroy's behavior spoke of greater urgency.
Droids had varying degrees of awareness, but it was strange for OOM-9. He had originally been a regular B1 battle droid, just like one of the hundred he was commanding; nothing special or interesting about him. But they had upgraded him, gave him more advanced programming, and a different paint-job. Thus he became an Operational Overseer Manager unit, or an OOM for short. Obviously the ninth one, hence OOM-9.
His increased awareness was dedicated to the tactical leadership of his fellow droids, along with security protocols that enabled him to attempt to adapt to a changing situation.
OOM-9 dedicated spare subroutines to an unimportant question: Why him, instead of the other OOM-9, or one of the organic officers? Half of the answer was easy: the Neimoidians were an often a very fearful race, and thus his superiors sent out droids as they were more expendable and replaceable. But why him, over the other OOMs? Part of it was probable to just be a matter of chance. Some were out of the running due to known glitches. OOM-1, OOM-2, and OOM-3 couldn't coordinate plans involving droids in the triple digits. OOM-14 kept losing his ability to send out long-range transmissions. OOM-8 just had a horrible aiming malfunction.
Droids with glitches and droids that failed were both tolerated until they were intolerable. Failure here would likely render him intolerable, with the assumption that failure did not lead to his termination by the enemy.
An alert in his systems notified him that the enemy had been spotted. He opened the hatch of his upgraded AAT, rising to survey the situation with his binoculars. It struck him as inefficient that enhanced optics were not simply built into his head, but he didn't waste any processing power on that.
The situation was very clear and simple: the organic army had gathered in an open field, surrounded by giant energy shields. No enemies were detected outside of the protective domes. His own forces were on a hill, giving them a minor terrain advantage.
Objective: Neutralize the shield generators.
Default Tactic: Overpower the shields.
"Open fire!" OOM-9 ordered to the line of AATs, their cannons letting loose. The explosions rang through the air, and OOM-9 repositioned his footing to adjust for the minor recoil of his own AAT firing.
He surveyed the assault for forty-seven seconds before concluding that this tactic was too inefficient. The shields showed no sign of faltering or straining. These shields were large, and there were four of them. Taking out just one with pure firepower would take time, and give his enemies a chance to counter.
"Cease Fire!" he commanded with a wave of his hand. It was a needless gesture, as there were no organics in his forces, but such behaviors were built into his programming. That aside, he sent the signal for his fellow battle droids to emerge and activate.
New Tactic: Attempt to penetrate the shield with infantry.
Some shields prevented physical objects and energy-based projectiles from entering, but not all. If this one held off both then he would simply use the additional firepower of nearly two thousand blasters to wear down the shields. If it didn't prevent his troops from entering, this battle would end that much sooner.
The sound of nineteen hundred droids activating and unfolding filled the plains. It was efficient and, according to his database, a terror tactic. Mass uniformity unsettled organics for unknown reasons.
As they began to march forth, OOM-9 double-checked his estimation. The texture of the energy shields made surveying more difficult, but he estimated that the enemy troops were somewhere close to seven hundred. His troops had nearly three-to-one odds. Assuming that estimation was correct, he possessed the numerical advantage.
As his troops closed in on the dome, the enemy forces suddenly began to charge. He focused his binoculars in to observe what their plan was.
Whatever their intent was, OOM-9 deduced they had begun their operation too late, if only by a few seconds. His droids entered the domes and began to fire. However, he quickly realized the enemy's strategy. The Gungans were attempting to hold the line at the edge of the dome, using their personal shields and weapons to cut down the droids before too many could cross through.
He scanned the shield and saw the defensive maneuver was being undertaken at all the shield. Better progress was being made on the flanks, but they would lose the numerical advantage if he kept to this tactic.
He sent the signal for his troops to cease the advance, and hold at the shield, as he had a near-instant calculation in his head. He could not afford to send out the droidekas yet. They had a high probability of destroying the shield generators if they got inside, but the enemy wouldn't give them the opening. There were too few of them to waste. The STAPs were much more numerous, but their own minimal firepower and lack of defenses would just be sending them to become scrap.
That just left one clear option.
Precautionary Tactic: Call in Air Support.
"This is OOM-9, requesting vulture droids at these coordinates," he sent to the Vuutun Palaa, the nearest lucrehulk in orbit. They didn't have bombers, true, but the firepower of vulture droids was not to be underestimated.
"Negative OOM-9, we are about to engage with an enemy spacecraft of unknown origin."
If OOM-9 was organic, that might have alarmed him. Neither the Gungans nor the Naboo had anything approaching a lucrehulk, and they had secured most of the Naboo starfighters. But OOM-9 was an Operational Overseer Manager, and this battle was his operation to oversee and manage. "Roger, roger. Inform if vultures become available."
That left OOM-9 with none of the easiest solutions. So, that meant it was time to default to a more risky maneuver.
Adjusted Tactic: Send in the Tanks.
"Forward!" he called out, signaling the tanks to charge.
It was a minor gamble, the enemies taking out the tanks this early in the fight. However, they only needed one shot at each of the generators to bring them down.
His processors almost rebooted for a second as he realized the shields were moving, the giant beasts carrying them letting out groans as they began to march back to the forest, the Gungans making great efforts to keep close to the edge of the shield without going past them; For every unlucky Gungan that did was quickly gunned down by the droids before they could get back to safety.
This went on for a few minutes as the tanks closed the gap. While the large fambaas made the shields mobile, they weren't very fast. The tanks would outpace them soon, and his forces were matching the speed of the shields now as well.
He went through his tactical programming, trying to predict the enemy's plan. The most obvious answer was just trying to protect the shield generators, give them more time and protection while forcing the droid army to move towards them.
But something about that just didn't factor right to him. If he was in their position, he would have moved the shields closer at the last seconds, giving their ranged units additional time to fire at the incoming tanks. Was the ineptness in the enemy leadership?
Or was this a trap?
Cautionary Tactic: Halt!
"Halt!" he called out again, causing his tanks to stop just behind the droids.
The Gungan army stopped as well, albeit less efficiently as the fambaas grunted out their annoyance.
OOM-9 came to the conclusion that they weren't trying to flee, they were trying to keep his army engaged, possibly lure them back to the forest where his droids would have a disadvantage.
He didn't understand the tactic, but there was one bit of programming his maker had attempted to embed in him when it came to commanding battles, a logical way to predict traps: When you didn't know what the enemy is doing, do not follow their lead.
"Fall back!" OOM-9 said as his forces began to retreat, the AAT moving in reverse.
The Gungans took several shots at the retreating droids, taking out a few dozen units before the droid army suddenly stopped and faced them once more.
"Fire!" OOM-9 ordered again, every blaster and cannon opening fire, particularly on the right-center dome.
Each rifle had five hundred rounds, and each MTT could resupply all the droids up to twice. Each AAT had fifty-seven rounds for their heavy laser cannons. He was prepared to expend up to a third of that ammunition on wearing down the shields before changing tactics.
There was another reason too…another part of his programming that he had difficulty implementing: enemies under pressure can be prone to making mistakes. Despite his upgrades, OOM-9 only understood this concept in basic terms. But this seemed like a decent implementation. The Gungans could not emerge from the shield now with this heavy rain of blaster fire. So they either held their ground or tried something else.
He could also theoretically request air support from one of the other lucrehulks. However, that did not seem needed. Progress may have been slowed, but the calculated odds were still in his favor. Leaving the other lucrehulks meant that they could deal with the enemies in space with greater speed, and not risk losing one of their capital ships.
The only question was, would the organics attempt to flee before or after the shields fell?
Meanwhile
Nute Gunray knew something was wrong the moment he heard the explosions and felt the tremors shaking the palace. Far, far too close to be the battle against the creatures of this world.
"Sir, an enemy ship entered the city's airspace and opened fire on our AATs. It has since docked in the palace hanger," OOM-4 informed as the Neimoidian paced the throne room with an increasingly frustrated gait.
"Why was it not shot down before it landed?!" Gunray demanded with a great scowl on his wrinkled face. "I put tanks there specifically so that no one could leave OR enter without permission!"
"Viceroy, those AATs were the ones the craft destroyed," OOM-4 explained as he observed Gunray. His capacity to read organic emotions and predict orders was more advance than other battle droids, but only barely. But it worked best on Neimoidians, so he could tell that the viceroy was attempting to hide fear behind anger. A standard psychological reaction from Neimoidians against a danger that was close but not imminent.
"Useless," Gunray muttered darkly. "Have all battle droids within the palace sent to the hanger, deal with this pest! E-except those here, guarding me, of course," Gunray backpedaled, knowing the droid would leave him on his own if he didn't specify that.
"Roger, Sir. Also, the Vuutun Palaa is now reporting they are under attack from an unknown enemy force," OOM-4 said as an update, knowing that Gunray would not be happy with this development.
And indeed he wasn't. His mouth hung open in shock before his body began to tremble in terror and rage. However, confusion overshadowed them all a moment later, as a look of deep thought came over the leader of the Trade Federation. "How many?" he asked suspiciously.
"At least fifty starfighters, along with one large vessel comparable in size to a lucrehulk. They approached the planet at sublight speeds while we were preparing to fight the organics," OOM-4 explained.
"This is too much. Even if some of the Naboo resistance gained access to the other fighters on this planet, this planet does not possess such a ship," Gunray said, suppressing a tremor at the implications. "The queen has gained some potent allies in her absence," he conceded to himself. "How is the battle fairing in space?"
"We possess the numbers in terms of starfighters, but neither of the larger vessels are taking significant damage," OOM-4 explained dutifully.
Gunray was pleased to hear that at least. The lucrehulks were built to absorb damage, to be able to endure whatever was thrown at them until their defenses picked away at the enemy. Because there were very few in the galaxy with ships dedicated to destroying freighters. Raid, maybe, but actual destruction? Not so easy. But by that same token, neither were the Trade Federation ships.
"Should I order the Fooni Tiina and the Krannut to move to aid the Vuutun Palaa?" OOM-4 asked as a suggestion.
"Absolutely not!" Gunray said quickly, angrily. "If all three fall, you droids will be completely useless! No, I will not risk both of them. If they can barely handle one, they can't hope to deal with the final two, even if they succeed," Gunray stated firmly.
"As you wish, Viceroy. What should I relay to Captain Dofine?" OOM-4 questioned.
Gunray paused at that, considering what should be done regarding his fellow conspirator. "Tell him...tell him to deal with the situation as he sees fit. That we cannot put the other lucrehulks at risk while the planetary battle is still ongoing," he reasoned, trying to make it not sound like he was leaving Dofine out to die…because he wasn't, honestly. He didn't expect these fools to destroy a lucrehulk.
But a lot of unexpected things had happened recently.
"Roger, roger. Commands relayed. Is there any-" OOM-4 stopped suddenly.
Gunray could feel the coldness spread in his body, wondering what it could possibly be now. But he dared not say anything, hoping it might just be a glitch. Droids did that, after all.
"Viceroy, there are enemy forces in the city, approaching the palace," OOM-4 informed, something almost grave in his robotic tone.
Gunray's eyes widened in terror before he almost fell back into the throne. "They're coming for me. How many!?" he asked urgently.
"Current count is two, Sir," OOM-4 answered.
Gunray didn't even need to ask, he truly didn't. "Should I assume one of them is Darth Vader?" he asked, his voice numb from how afraid he had been.
"Yes, sir, but the other appears to be the Queen of Naboo."
Gunray stared at the droid without comprehension. "What?" he asked, something approaching hope in his heart. If they got the queen, if they dealt with her, maybe, just maybe they could still salvage this! Or at least he could get away with his life. He didn't want to tempt Sidious's wrath, but he'd try to weasel his way out of that if it meant living another day. "Where are they now?!"
"They are approaching the courtyard now, Sir," OOM-4 explained simply.
Gunray stopped, realizing what that meant. "But that's where most of the droids still in the city are. Are you saying they have not been shot down yet?!"
"Sir, I am reporting that they are taking heavy casualties."