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Star Wars Fanon

"We stand by the gate! Defend the city at all costs!" Artel bellowed in the direction of his forces, now scattered at the base of what had been the northern outer wall of the city. "Gather around the gate!" he ordered, trying to see through the dust that obscured his vision.

Suddenly Ballo was beside him, supporting a Byss with a nasty wound in the side of his head. Ballo's beard was caked with blood and his hairless scalp was drenched with clammy grey sweat, but his eyes were bright and he looked more alive than Artel had ever seen him.

"Alright, General?" Ballo panted, holding up the Byss with one hand while firing random shots with the other.

"Never better," Artel grinned at him. Then, "Where's the Baron?"

"Hyarkis?"

"Yep."

Ballo shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I saw him fall off the wall..."

Artel nodded. "Me too. I managed to save him from falling to his death, but I don't know where he went."

Ballo nodded, then pointed towards the pile of rubble that had been the wall. Tall, lean shapes were making their way over it, malevolent silhouettes like shadow puppets in the cloud of dust. Bright, blood red blaster fire answered their blue as the droids bore down on them.

"They've got the high ground, sir!" Ballo observed as the Byss he was supporting was dealt a deadly blow to the belly. He dropped the dying soldier gently onto the floor and continued fighting, grabbing his fallen comrade's rifle.

"We can't let them inside the city!" Artel said, more to himself than to Ballo. "We can't let them get through the gate!"

Ballo looked across at him, and Artel looked back, making eye contact. "You do know, sir," Ballo said solemnly, "we're not going to survive this, sir."

Artel nodded slowly. "Indeed. We'll never open this gate, so we're stuck out here."

"But... couldn't we just let them in, sir?"

"And let them take the city, Ballo?"

Ballo shrugged in a resigned fashion. "I think they're going to do that anyway, general."

"Well, there's no point in making it easy for them!" Artel grinned, advancing through the smog, his lightsaber waving in front of him.

Artel ascended the pile of rubble like a Kowakian Monkey-Lizard, scaling the mountain of bricks to engage the droids poised in the perfect position at the top of it.

Artel sliced through a battle droid, then kicked one back and stabbed another through the belly. He deflected the blaster fire of a super battle droid and twirled his lightsaber elegantly, taking out its legs and then both its arms, a wild grin on his face.

Suddenly, his vision was growing red, the colour of blood. He felt a craving for blood, a bloodlust unlike anything else in the galaxy. He became wild, fighting through the masses of droids like some rabid animal. There was nothing in the galaxy that could stop him... or so he thought, until the cold metal fist hit him in the face and sent him flying back into the dust.