Aayla Secura walked around the massive UNSC base feeling a mix of fascination and respect. Every corner of the structure told a story, every wall reflected resilience and human sacrifice. She stopped to look at a large statue of a UNSC soldier, his face resolute and in a combat stance, and noticed how, despite being in a military environment, the place did not feel cold or hostile; on the contrary, it emanated an energy of camaraderie and hope.
The soldiers, although disciplined, showed an unusual closeness between them. To her surprise, they even had gyms, bars, and recreation centers, something that was hardly common among Republic soldier clans. She had heard that UNSC soldiers were not only trained to fight, but to live and coexist, strengthening their bond as a team. Aayla could not help but feel admiration for the humanity they maintained, even in the midst of such a brutal war.
Every soldier she crossed words with spoke with respect and almost veneration about the Spartans. One of them told her a story:
"Spartans... are more than just soldiers, Jedi Master. They are living legends. They have gotten us out of situations where no one else would have survived. And not just with brute force, but with leadership. When one of them is in charge, we all fight like we're invincible."
Intrigued, Aayla felt a growing curiosity about the UNSC Admiral himself. Determined, she headed to his office. She knew Arnet was a Spartan, and everything she had heard only intensified her desire to get to know him beyond formal strategy talks.
Walking through the halls of the high-ranking officers' bedrooms, Aayla couldn't help but compare the modesty of these rooms to the opulent residences of some senators and prominent figures of the Republic. These rooms were simple, almost austere. No lavish decorations, no unnecessary ornaments; just the essentials to rest, work, and prepare for the next battles. For someone accustomed to the luxuries and extravagances that some high-ranking officials of the Republic considered indispensable, this humility was shocking, but also refreshing.
She remembered certain senators who, rather than public servants, seemed like masters of their own world. She had seen cases of political figures who decorated their rooms with exotic sculptures, expensive furniture, and even caged slaves as decoration—beings they considered less than people and kept only to satisfy their selfish and capricious desires. It was a stark contrast to the ethics of the UNSC, which seemed to have neither time nor interest in such ostentation.
The sobriety of the rooms reflected a clear and practical focus on the mission. There were no distractions. In this environment, Aayla could see that the UNSC focused on survival, efficiency, and unity, an approach that seemed far nobler to her than that of those senators trapped in their own power and privilege.
Finally, she reached the room assigned to Admiral Arnet. She hesitated for a moment before knocking, trying to gather her thoughts and prepare for what could be a revealing conversation with this enigmatic leader who was changing her perspective on the role of a soldier in times of war.
When she touched the hologram of Delta that emerged in front of the Jedi "If you're looking for the Admiral, he'll be in the base's Gyms."
A slightly nervous Aayla thanked him and quickly left.
Arnet was a mystery, a man of few words who seemed to be wrapped in a layer of steel, both literally and figuratively. His reputation as a strategist and his imposing presence made him someone almost unreachable, but he was also someone the Republic considered an indispensable "ally."
As she made her way to the gym, she tried to gather her thoughts, thinking of how to start a conversation with someone so enigmatic. Admiral Arnet, until now, seemed to her the definition of discipline and determination, someone who, if he didn't take off that massive armor, might as well pass for a fighting machine rather than a human being.
Finally, she reached the gym. The place was packed with soldiers training at various weight stations, machines, and resistance tracks. Among them, Arnet stood out not only for his size but for the intensity with which he trained. Even though he was wearing a T-shirt and training pants, without the armor, he still maintained an imposing presence. His muscles, carved and defined, made it clear that he had spent years in a rigorous physical regimen, and the focused look on his face showed the same intensity she had seen on the battlefield.
Aayla stood in silence for a few seconds, surprised by the sight of Arnet out of his armor. It was the first time she had seen him without that heavy armor, and in a way, it made him seem more human.
She took a deep breath and approached, trying to think of a way to start the conversation.
"Admiral Arnet," she said, trying to sound casual. "I'm sorry to interrupt your training, but I wanted to talk to you for a moment."
Arnet looked up, studying her in silence for a few seconds before nodding slightly.
"Master Secura, it's no problem. How can I help you?"
That simple gesture and invitation to talk relaxed her a little. Perhaps, after all, she could find a connection with the impenetrable admiral.
Aayla began by asking about the defensive aspects of the base, wanting to know how they would act in the event of a surprise attack by the Covenant. Arnet explained with military precision: from orbital defense platforms in position to ground troop deployments to evacuation routes. He responded with the same calculating coolness she had come to expect, listing numbers and strategies without hesitation.
As he spoke, however, her eyes drifted to his attire. He was wearing the typical athletic clothing of a Jedi, light and flexible, perfect for moving freely. It was then that Arnet, in an attempt to change the tone of the conversation, made an unexpected suggestion.
"Would you be interested in doing some physical training, Master Secura?" he asked, gesturing to the equipment around him. "You're already dressed for it. I can show you how some of these machines work, if you're interested."
Aayla blinked, surprised. She hadn't imagined the conversation would take that direction. After a second of hesitation, she nodded, trying to hide her nervousness. She had heard about the strict training of the UNSC, and although she was strong and agile, the equipment of a military gym like this was completely new to her.
Arnet guided her to a weight machine and patiently explained its operation. He adjusted the weight himself, making her feel like she was under the tutelage of a true expert. As she began her first exercise, he watched her closely, offering corrections on posture and movement.
Aayla, feeling the admiral's analytical gaze on her, tried to hide her nerves. Every correction, every small adjustment of posture he made to her, increased her discomfort, although she also felt that she was learning from someone who not only understood physical strength, but also the precision in every movement.
"Is this... part of your regular training?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
Arnet nodded, taking a second to find an answer that wasn't so cold or military.
"Yes. Our soldiers, especially the Spartans, follow a very strict routine. Staying in top condition is essential... although not all of us are used to training with Jedi."
Aayla smiled, trying to relax.
"Well, for me this is completely new," she admitted, trying a joke to hide her nervousness. "We Jedi tend to have a more... fluid way of training."
Arnet watched her technique for a moment and adjusted the weight silently, without saying an unnecessary word, letting her settle in. As the Marines looked on sideways, surprised to see their imposing Admiral helping a Jedi, Aayla tried to focus, but she couldn't help but think how peculiar and strange this moment was.
As they continued their training, the silence between Aayla and Arnet began to grow awkward. Arnet, not exactly an expert at casual conversation, tried to find a topic to break the tension. It was then that he noticed a scar on Aayla's abdomen, a thin, slightly irregular line on her blue skin.
"That scar, how did it happen?" he asked curiously, pointing at the mark.
Aayla looked down at the scar and smiled a little wistfully.
"It was during a mission at the beginning of the Clone Wars. I was on Felucia, with my troops, trying to defend a strategic settlement," she began, remembering. "The jungle was thick, the terrain rugged. The enemy droids took advantage of the environment and, in the end, we ended up caught in an ambush. A droid tank surprised me, and although I managed to destroy it, a blaster shot hit me right in this area."
Arnet listened attentively, nodding from time to time. He was not used to hearing personal stories, but something in Aayla's tone made him stay silent, respectful.
"It was one of those missions where, in the end, the soldiers and I came out alive by pure luck, or perhaps by the Force," Aayla continued, as she refocused her attention on the training team, looking at the admiral. "It was one of those battle marks that one ends up wearing with… some pride."
Arnet nodded again, and Aayla took a closer look at him. Even though he was wearing his uniform, she could see the traces of scars that crisscrossed his skin where it was exposed, marks that looked much older and deeper than her own.
"And what about you, Admiral? I see you have quite a few scars." Her voice carried a mix of genuine curiosity and respect.
Arnet was silent for a moment, thinking of how to respond without going into unnecessary details.
"I got them by becoming what I am now: a super soldier. The transformation to Spartan II is not… easy at all. Most don't survive the process, and those who do are often left with permanent… marks. The scars are a sort of reminder of the sacrifices we had to make."
Aayla nodded, seeing past Arnet's words. She knew what it was like to sacrifice something of herself for a greater cause, but she hadn't imagined the physical process would be so extreme.
"Do those marks... still affect you?" she asked softly, looking at Arnet's scars with understanding.
"No, not really," he replied, shrugging. "They're there, and in a sense, they're already part of me. I don't pay much attention to them. The important thing is that I can do my duty."
Aayla watched him silently for a moment before nodding.
-x.X.x-
As they walked towards the casino, Arnet noticed how Aayla tended to keep herself somewhat aloof from the rest of the staff. On base, Jedi were respected figures, but also enigmatic, and Arnet felt that there might be something more behind the serene façade the Jedi showed everyone.
Already in the casino, they took their seats, and Arnet, after observing the place and the crowd of soldiers and officers in their conversations, focused on Aayla.
"So... you're a Jedi?" Arnet began, breaking the silence as she took a sip of her drink. "Don't take me the wrong way, I've heard things here and there about Jedi, but... what do they really do?"
Aayla let out a light laugh, relaxing a little.
"That's a good question, and if I'm honest with you, Arnet, it's something I've thought about a lot lately." She took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Being a Jedi means living by a code, being guided by the Force, and serving as guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy... or at least, that's what it used to mean."
Arnet nodded slowly.
"Used to?"
"Yes. In times past, Jedi were mediators, protectors. Now, with this war, everything has changed. They train us to fight, to become soldiers... and I can't help but feel like we're moving away from who we really are." His tone reflected a mix of nostalgia and sadness. "Before, my mission was to defend those who couldn't defend themselves. Now, instead of peace, we bring combat and destruction to every corner of the galaxy."
Arnet noted the dissatisfaction in his words and understood the weight he carried.
"I understand." He paused, thinking carefully about his words. "I don't know if it's my place to comment on this, but... perhaps this war has changed many. My men, the UNSC... we were also dedicated to protecting our own, but we had to evolve, to be something more. Perhaps... the Jedi are simply evolving, even if it's hard to accept what they're becoming."
Aayla was silent for a moment, reflecting.
"Maybe you're right. I guess I still have a hard time seeing the positive side." She looked at him, grateful for his honesty. "But I don't want that transformation to turn us into something we were never meant to be."
Arnet looked at her with a look of understanding and respect.
"I understand. It's important to remember what got you started, even if the road gets difficult. Those roots can always be a guide, even in dark times."
Aayla smiled, grateful for Arnet's sincerity. As they continued to talk, they both realized that, despite their differences, they shared more in common than they imagined.
While they shared lunch, Aayla managed something unexpected: she made Arnet laugh. It was a genuine laugh, brief but enough to surprise those who passed by. Soldiers, technicians and officers exchanged incredulous glances at seeing the stoic admiral relaxed, laughing at times in the company of the Jedi. The formal relationship that had marked their interactions at first seemed to dissolve, and the naturalness of the atmosphere made Aayla feel more comfortable and relaxed than she had since her arrival.
She didn't know exactly how he did it, but every anecdote, comment, or question managed to break, if only for a moment, Arnet's hard facade. For his part, Arnet listened with interest; his answers revealed a less rigid side, a version of himself that few, very few, had ever come to know.
The peace and relaxed atmosphere they had enjoyed during lunch was abruptly shattered when Delta's hologram appeared in front of Arnet and Aayla.
"Admiral, we have picked up a distress signal coming from Tatooine," Delta reported, his tone calm but with a hint of urgency.
Arnet sat up straight in his seat, putting his plate aside and focusing all his attention on the AI. "Play it," he ordered.
The hologram flickered for a moment before revealing the imposing and recognizable figure of Count Dooku. His expression was solemn, with the characteristic bearing he had always maintained, but his voice, this time, held a note of urgency.
Arnet immediately stopped laughing upon hearing Delta's warning. Within seconds, the relaxed atmosphere Aayla had managed to create vanished. They both looked at each other with concern as Delta began the transmission. The holographic image flickered for a moment until the figure of Count Dooku appeared, his expression stern and serene, but marked by a shadow of urgency.
"I am Count Dooku," he began in a formal tone, "and I find it necessary to request the assistance of the UNSC in evacuating the planet Tatooine. The Covenant has launched a devastating attack. Our defenses are falling, and thousands of lives are at risk. We need immediate support to evacuate the survivors and save the remnants of our forces."
Arnet crossed his arms, watching Dooku's every word on the transmission. He knew what this decision would entail: saving a sworn enemy of the Republic. But he also knew what the Covenant represented and how this threat transcended usual loyalties.
When the transmission ended, Delta turned to Arnet:
"Admiral, what are your orders?"
Arnet turned to Aayla, who looked at him with a mix of surprise and doubt.
When the transmission ended, Arnet remained silent for a moment, evaluating what he had just heard. Then, he turned to Aayla, a skeptical expression on his face.
"Who the hell is this Count Dooku?" she asked, not bothering to hide her distrust. "He asks for help as if he were an ally, and from what I've heard so far, he doesn't sound remotely like one."
Aayla nodded, preparing to give a brief explanation, aware of what that request meant.
"Count Dooku is a former Jedi," she began, her tone serious. "He was a respected master in the Order, one of the wisest and most powerful of his time. However, he left the Council and joined the dark side of the Force. He is now the leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, who rebelled against the Republic, and the face of the Clone Wars."
Arnet raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A fallen Jedi, then? And now he leads a rebellion… What kind of leader is he really?"
Aayla sighed, trying to summarise as best she could. "Dooku is calculating and cold, manipulating his followers through speeches about freedom and justice, but his methods and alliances are far from those ideals. He was the one who orchestrated multiple attacks on Republic planets, has executed millions in the name of the Confederacy, and is seen by many as the face of war."
Arnet nodded, processing the information. "So he's not exactly someone to trust... And now he needs our help?"
Aayla looked at him, nodding slowly. "Exactly. The Confederacy was devastated by the Covenant, just as much as the Republic. While Dooku has been an enemy of peace in the galaxy, it seems even he knows when he faces a greater threat."
Arnet fell silent, thinking. "Delta, send a message to command. We'll analyze the situation. But for now, this transmission doesn't leave here until we know exactly what we're going to do with this information."
Delta nodded. "Understood, Admiral."
-x.X.x-
In the operations center of the UNSC base, the atmosphere was solemn and filled with uncertainty. Holograms of Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Luminara Unduli glowed on the holotable, their figures projected in the middle of the room. Around them, Arnet and his team of ship captains, along with Aayla Secura, listened intently to the words of the Jedi, who had been informed of Dooku's transmission and desperate plea for help from Tatooine.
"So it is true," Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms as he studied the information on the screen. "A fleet of 25 Covenant ships is on Tatooine. We know that the planet does not have the resources to withstand an attack of that magnitude."
"Even we could not easily stop that number of ships," Arnet added, looking at the reports with a hard expression. "But we know that if we do not do something, the Covenant will vitrify the planet in a matter of hours."
Anakin, frowning, spoke up. "The dilemma is obvious: it's not just about rescuing civilians, but considering that Tatooine is home to some of the Confederacy's remaining leaders. Dooku has asked us for help. The question is… should we help him?"
One of the UNSC captains, a man of few words and a hardened face, broke the silence. "Admiral, we've been fighting the Covenant since we got here. To us, they are the only enemy. If we let Tatooine fall, we've lost the opportunity to save thousands of lives. Wouldn't it be better to stop them there and now?"
Luminara nodded slowly. "We could view this operation as a rescue mission. We rescue the civilians and evacuate whoever we can. If that means helping the Confederacy survive a few more days, so be it."
Arnet took a breath, taking in the situation. "Our duty is to save the innocents of the Covenant, not the leaders who contributed to this war. If we are to intervene on Tatooine, it will be with that clear objective. However, the UNSC will not back down from combat if we have to face the Covenant directly. Our fleet is ready to go."
Obi-Wan interjected, his tone thoughtful. "Perhaps this assistance will be an opportunity to show the rest of the galaxy that the UNSC is here to eradicate the Covenant, no matter who the victims are."
"Arnet is right, Master Kenobi," Aayla said, glancing at the Jedi present. "We can help, but our priority should be saving the civilians caught in the conflict. Loyalties don't matter as much when the lives of an entire galaxy are at stake."
Finally, Arnet turned to Delta. "Prepare for fleet deployment. We're heading to Tatooine on a rescue and containment mission against the Covenant."
"Yes, Admiral," Delta replied, activating the broadcast to the entire UNSC base.
Anakin nodded, a determined expression on his face. "We'll be on-site to support. We won't let the Covenant continue to cause wanton destruction."
Arnet turned to the captains. "The mission is simple: evacuate civilians and eliminate any Covenant ships that threaten the area. The Jedi here will coordinate with our forces. This is a battle we must win."
End of Chapter 24.