Star Wars and all characters and elements of the universe are owned by Lucasfilm and Disney. I do not claim any rights to these characters or this universe. This work is fan fiction created for fun and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights.

Boro (CT-7778)

The planet Kranos was as beautiful as it was terrifying. This place was full of contrasts – dense, steaming jungle, whose lush vegetation pulsed with life, and rivers of volcanic lava that regularly flowed from cracking rocks. The entire planet seemed to vibrate beneath the surface, as if its heart beat in rhythm with the unpredictable volcanic eruptions.

For Boro, a clone from the 41st Legion with the number CT-7778, Kranos was like a living nightmare. Reconnaissance missions were always tough, but in such conditions, in such a hostile environment, every second felt like an eternity. The humid, sticky air forced its way through the helmet's filters, and the constant sounds of animals and volcanic eruptions made the planet a place that offered no respite. Danger lurked from every side, not only from the enemy but from the environment itself.

The scouts of the 41st Legion were the best at what they did. Their mission was a reconnaissance one – to scout out the positions of the Separatists on the planet's surface, estimate the enemy's numbers, and then return with the information to the Republic's command. Boro led a four-man team – these were his brothers, whom he had known for years. CT-4412, nicknamed "Smyk," was an expert in tech and navigation. CT-5538, or "Crow," was a fearless soldier, always ready to face any challenge. The last in the group was CT-3009, a sniper, silent and calm, who always stayed at the back, observing the terrain with cold professionalism.

At the moment, the four of them were slowly moving through the dark, damp jungle of Kranos. Thick branches and giant leaves brushed against their armor, and the traces of earlier volcanic eruptions were visible everywhere. Kranos was something between paradise and hell, and although its fauna and flora were impressive, Boro knew that any carelessness could end in tragedy.

"Boro, do you see that?" Smyk whispered through the communicator as they reached a small rise in the jungle. "We have a view of the valley; the Separatists have set up units. Battle droids to the south, forming a line."

Boro pressed himself to the ground, bringing the rangefinder to his eyes. Through the device, he observed the valley below – a vast, rocky terrain surrounded by volcanic ridges that twisted grotesquely, as if the planet itself was in agony. At the bottom of the valley, among the rocks and ravines, he noticed numerous B1 battle droids moving in regular formations. Beside them were AATs, the Separatists' heavy tanks, patrolling the area. The droids seemed to be guarding something more important – something not yet visible to the naked eye.

"Check their numbers," Boro whispered, sharing the rangefinder's image with the rest of the team. "This isn't a standard patrol. They've set up camp for good here. They're planning something."

Crow looked at the rangefinder and frowned.

"They seem to have a solid position," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe we should head back and report this to command. This is more than we expected."

Boro considered this for a moment. The decision to retreat was safe, but he wasn't sure if they had seen everything yet. The droids were well-organized, and the number of heavy units suggested that the Separatists were not only defending the area but preparing something bigger. Boro suspected that there might be additional forces hiding here – possibly even a command center.

"We're not going back yet," he said firmly. "We need to get closer. If this is their main base, we need to be sure. I don't want to return with unfinished business."

Smyk looked at Boro, a glimmer of both concern and respect in his eyes. He knew that Boro rarely made rash decisions, but once he did, he was relentless.

"Alright, commander. We're moving in closer," Smyk nodded.

The team moved further through the jungle, sneaking through the leaves and grasses, whose size was overwhelming. Every step was carefully planned, every sound muffled to a minimum. The jungle was full of life, although Boro felt that this life was watching them from every side – silent, ominous gazes that they couldn't see. The darkness around them was almost tangible, heightened by the bubbling heat of flowing magma and the background noises of volcanic eruptions.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached another rise, from which the view was clearer. This time, they saw the outlines of a larger structure hidden in the valley. It was a massive metal structure, likely a command center, and around it were even more droid units. Worse, two Vulture droids circled above, patrolling the area from the sky.

"They've built something bigger here," Boro said gravely, looking at his brothers. "This isn't just a camp. They've got a full operational base. If we let them fortify here, we'll have serious problems."

Smyk only sighed, moving closer to look at the structure through the rangefinder.

"Bases like this can oversee entire operations in the region," he noted. "We have to report this to command."

"One more minute," Boro said, not taking his eyes off the base. Something wasn't right. It wasn't just the number of droids but the layout and the way the Separatists had positioned their units. He knew their tactics too well. Something was brewing here.

Suddenly, in the distance, they heard a loud rumble. On the horizon, far beyond the valley, one of the active volcanoes spewed powerful streams of lava and smoke into the air. The planet Kranos reminded them once again of how unstable it was. Thick ash filled the air, and the ground trembled slightly beneath the clones' feet.

"We need to get out of here before that eruption hits us," Crow said, looking towards the volcano, whose explosions began hurling more and more ash into the sky.

"You're right," Boro replied, casting one last glance at the base. "Let's go. We have everything we need."

The team began slowly retreating the way they had come. Their movements were as silent as before, and every step was deliberate. They now had the key information – the most important task was getting it to command. They knew that this base could change the course of the fighting in this sector. But they also knew that the planet Kranos would not give them a second chance if they stayed too long.

Boro felt a storm coming in the air – not just a natural one, but also a warlike one.

                                                                                              ...

Rose

The planet Kranos wasn't a place Rose wanted to return to. The hot volcanic terrain and unpredictable eruptions created a harsh and unforgiving landscape, but the money was too good to pass up. After all, she was a smuggler, and missions like these were her bread and butter. However, this run was different. The mysterious client had offered her a sum that far exceeded what she usually earned, even on the riskiest of missions. And she wasn't one to turn down such a payday, even if it made her uneasy.

Freia, her loyal companion, sat next to her, watching the terrain with the caution typical of her species. Freia, who resembled a giant, wild wolf, was a rare creature in the galaxy – a Dar'Shir, a being native to the forests of Eredron. She was larger than an average dog, with fur of a silver-blue hue and golden eyes that gleamed in the dim light. Her strong, wide paws allowed her to move silently, and her sharp teeth and claws were a deadly tool for defense. Rose had known Freia for years and trusted her completely – she was not only her protector but also her closest companion.

Freia let out a low growl, as if warning Rose of something she had not yet noticed. She was always alert to danger, often sensing threats before Rose did.

"Easy, Freia," Rose said softly, placing a hand on her companion's soft neck. "It's not time yet, but it's best to keep our eyes open."

When Freia was calm, Rose felt safer. But this run... was different. She didn't know what she was transporting, and that was against her principles. She always had full control over every element of the cargo she transported – she knew what it was, for whom, and why. It was this control that had kept her alive for so many years in the tough world of smugglers. But now the mysterious client hadn't revealed anything to her except the delivery location and the enormous payment. She hadn't asked any questions – something inside told her it was better that way. Maybe it was instinct, maybe caution, but in the end, she had agreed to the job.

Her ship, the Black Manta, rested safely at the edge of a volcanic plateau, giving her a perfect view of the surrounding area. It was her favorite machine – agile, fast, and reliable, though scarred in many places, bearing the marks of past battles and escapes. The dark, matte hull of the ship blended with the rugged landscape of Kranos, making it almost invisible to the enemy.

Rose stood on the ramp of the Manta, watching the smoke rising from the volcanoes on the horizon. She felt the electricity in the air – not just from the planet's heat but also from something hanging in the atmosphere. Strange that no one had tried to follow or attack her. Usually, in situations like this, Separatists or pirates would be nearby, ready to seize the cargo. But this time – nothing. The entire planet seemed too quiet, too peaceful.

"I don't like this, Freia," Rose muttered, looking at her companion, who seemed equally on edge. "Too easy. The client's paying a fortune for something, and we've got a free pass?"

Freia let out a low growl, confirming Rose's concerns. Usually, journeys like this were full of unforeseen obstacles, and smugglers rarely had the luxury of a hassle-free delivery. Something had to be wrong.

Rose stepped away from the ramp and returned to the cargo hold. A sealed metal crate sat motionless in the center of the room, a silent witness to her uncertainty. The crate was strangely heavy for something of its size, and its surface was covered in markings that Rose didn't recognize. She felt she could open it with a simple move, but for some reason, something held her back. Often it was like that – a mysterious cargo was riskier than transporting it. Now, more than ever, she regretted not asking for more details.

Freia circled the crate, uneasy, and her eyes gleamed in the half-light. She was an incredibly intelligent creature, often better at sensing danger than Rose. Now she looked at the cargo as if it might be a threat.

"I know, I know," Rose said, as if answering her companion's silent suggestion. "It's strange. I don't like it, but we have to finish the job."

Her thoughts returned to the mysterious client – she hadn't met him personally; everything had been arranged through intermediaries, which was unusual, even for smugglers. Normally, Rose liked to know who she was helping. She always had a rule to avoid the big players – the Separatists, the Jedi Order, or the Hutts were too dangerous for her. She preferred to operate on a smaller scale, maintaining a degree of anonymity and control over her fate. But this time, instinct took over – the promise of a large payout outweighed her usual caution.

"Let's finish this and disappear from this hellish planet," she muttered, looking at Freia, who had moved away from the crate but remained alert.

A few minutes later, Rose set the coordinates on the navigation map – the destination point, the agreed delivery location, was on the southern hemisphere of Kranos, near massive rock formations where old mines, long abandoned by miners, were hidden. It was the perfect spot for a drop-off. Few ventured there, and the planet's natural conditions effectively discouraged unnecessary searches.

"Freia, get ready," Rose said as the Black Manta lifted off the planet's surface, its engines vibrating quietly.

Freia, though not understanding the words, was acutely aware of her companion's emotions. She settled in her usual spot in the cockpit, her eyes focused on the horizon, ready to act if anything went wrong.

The flight to the mines was short but long enough for Rose to rethink the whole situation. What was she transporting? Why was someone willing to pay such a fortune to hide the truth from her? The more she thought about it, the more doubts surfaced. The crate looked old, but it could be hiding something very modern, something that could matter to the galaxy. Was it a weapon? Intelligence data?

When they arrived, the landing site looked as deserted as the rest of Kranos. Old, rusting mining structures towered over the landscape like forgotten monuments of past glory. Rose set the ship down on the ground, and the ramp descended silently. Freia jumped onto the hard ground first, a shudder of readiness passing through her body.

"I don't like this place..." Rose muttered, scanning the horizon for any sign of movement.

But Kranos, as always, remained silent.

                                                                                               ...

Boro (CT-7778)

Kranos, a planet full of volcanic eruptions, dense jungles, and eternal twilight, was a place where tension never left the soldiers. However, this time, something more was in the air. Boro (CT-7778), leading his scouting team from the 41st Legion, stared at the horizon where, moments ago, they had spotted movement – something that was definitely not a normal sight on this harsh, abandoned planet.

From the jungle's depths, where the team crept between giant, overgrown rocks and thick leaves, Boro saw a flashing light – a distant glint that signaled a ship landing. A transport ship, probably small and fast, almost imperceptible in the darkness, blended with the planet's landscape, but for the experienced scouts of the 41st Legion, such a sight couldn't be missed. It was something that caught their attention immediately.

"Do you see that, commander?" asked Smyk (CT-4412), his rangefinder capturing the disappearing ship in the distance. "A private transport. Small but fast. Smuggler or scout."

Boro frowned beneath his helmet. The planet Kranos wasn't a place that attracted random travelers. The Separatists were deployed on the surface, the Republic monitored the situation, but who the hell was landing here without any prior notice? Smugglers? Separatist spies? Or maybe something far more dangerous?

"That's not a standard Separatist unit," Crow (CT-5538) interjected, always focused on details. "It doesn't carry any markings. It's definitely something beyond a regular war operation. Maybe smugglers working for hire?"

Boro briefly glanced at Smyk, who was still observing the transport's landing site. His thoughts quickly analyzed the situation. Smugglers in the galaxy had always been an inseparable element of the war, delivering goods and resources to both sides of the conflict. But here, on Kranos, something like this had particularly disturbing undertones.

"We're going," he ordered, knowing they didn't have time for long deliberations. "We need to find out who they are and what they're carrying. Smyk, keep that ship in the rangefinder. We can't lose sight of it."

The team began moving quickly but quietly through the jungle, trying to maintain their distance. Boro led them along dense trees, avoiding open spaces where they could be spotted. The scouts of the 41st Legion were trained for such missions, operating in silent, unseen shadows. Every step was calculated, and Boro, at the head, analyzed the terrain ahead, sensing every potential enemy movement.

They reached a hill that gave them a better view of the valley. There, among the rocky formations and ash from eruptions, they saw the transport ship landing in a perfectly hidden spot – out of sight but clearly visible to their expert eyes.

Boro crouched and brought the rangefinder to his eyes. The ship was dark, matte, its silhouette aerodynamic, perfect for quick escapes and maneuvers in hostile terrain. The Black Manta, though he didn't see the name, immediately knew it was a ship designed for smuggling operations. Such ships were rare in regular fleets, but in the world of the black market, they were almost iconic.

"A smuggler," Boro muttered, watching as the ship's ramp slowly descended to the ground. "Definitely not Separatists."

"I wonder what they're carrying," Smyk remarked, shaking his head. "Maybe it's something the Separatists need to strengthen their forces on this planet?"

"Possible," Crow replied. "But it looks like this isn't just a standard delivery."

From the valley, from the ship's interior, a figure emerged. A woman, whose posture immediately suggested she wasn't a random person. Her movements were precise, confident, and her silhouette was clad in a leather jacket, with a weapon visible on her hip. She didn't look like a typical smuggler, at least not one who acted blindly. Boro stared at her for a long moment, trying to assess the threat. Who was she, and what was she doing here?

"She's not an ordinary smuggler," Boro said, his voice full of tension. "Look."

Behind her came something else. A huge creature, a dog-like being with silver-blue fur and golden eyes that gleamed in the planet's half-light. It was a Dar'Shir, a legendary creature rarely seen in the galaxy. These beasts were intelligent, extremely dangerous, and often used as personal bodyguards by those who could afford them. This wasn't something one encountered every day.

"What kind of monster is that?" Crow asked, somewhat surprised by the sight. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Dar'Shir," Boro answered without hesitation. "They come from the planet Eredron. Extremely intelligent creatures, kept by a few, often smugglers or mercenaries as protectors. Powerful, fast, and deadly."

"That woman knows what she's doing," Smyk admitted, watching the interaction between the smuggler and her beast. "She's not a random person."

Boro nodded. This mission was becoming more and more complicated. Smugglers usually didn't land on planets like Kranos without a good reason. And the fact that the woman had a Dar'Shir suggested that this cargo – whatever it was – was of great importance.

"We need to track them," Boro said, his voice firm. "Keep our distance. Let's find out what they're carrying and what they're doing here. If it's something the Separatists need, we have to report it."

The team began moving silently, but decisively, following the woman and her companion. Every step in the jungle was silent, as if they themselves had become part of the shadow that surrounded the volcanic landscape. Boro couldn't take his eyes off the smuggler and her companion. On one hand, it was dangerous, on the other – fascinating.

As the woman and her beast began moving away from the ship, Boro noticed that they were heading towards something that looked like abandoned mines, old and long forgotten by the galaxy. This place was perfect for hiding mysterious cargo, exchanging goods, or something even more dangerous.

"The mines to the south," Crow said, anticipating Boro's thoughts. "This had to be planned. Hideout, exchange. Perfect place."

"Let's keep our distance, but stay close," Boro replied, raising his hand to signal the formation to hold. "We want to know everything, but we can't reveal ourselves. This is crucial."

The team moved like shadows, following the mysterious smuggler and her companion through the harsh landscape of Kranos. The reconnaissance mission, which was supposed to be routine, turned into a game full of dangers, and Boro knew that discovering the truth about what was happening here could bring answers to the questions plaguing the entire Republic.

                                                                                                  ...

Rose

Rose had always been cautious. Kranos wasn't a planet where you could act carelessly. She had known that the moment her feet touched its volcanic, hot surface. The gaze of her loyal companion, Freia, pierced the surroundings with incredible attention. The Dar'Shir was always vigilant, and her golden eyes, gleaming in the half-light, wandered over the nearby rocks and trees. Every step in the thick silence of the volcanic valleys and dark forests of Kranos could hide danger.

Though she was an experienced smuggler, Rose couldn't shake the unease. She was here to meet a client, collect payment, and vanish from this cursed planet. It was a simple plan, too simple not to raise suspicion. Yet the payment was worth it. Something about this mission, though, didn't sit well with her – a gut feeling she had felt since landing. The place was too quiet, and that was never a good sign.

Freia let out a low growl, suddenly stopping mid-step. Rose, knowing that her companion never reacted without reason, looked at her with concern.

"Something's wrong, girl?" she asked, and Freia stretched her neck, sniffing the air as if she sensed an unknown threat.

The mine, where the meeting was to take place, was deserted. No signs, no movement, no sounds except for the distant rumbling of volcanic eruptions. Rose felt her unease grow. She was supposed to meet someone here – a client she had never even seen. The whole transaction had been arranged through intermediaries. Under normal circumstances, Rose would never have agreed to such a thing. She always liked to know who she was working for, always had the full picture of the situation. But something – perhaps exhaustion, perhaps the desire for a quick profit – had made her take the risk.

"Where are they?" she muttered to herself, looking at the surrounding area.

In the mine, which had long ago been the site of intense mining activities, there was silence like in an abandoned graveyard. Rusty machines scattered across the area looked as if they had witnessed events that ended tragically and were now waiting for new orders that would never come.

Freia let out another, louder growl, her fur beginning to bristle. She sensed something more. It wasn't just intuition – it was a certainty that someone was watching them. Rose squinted her eyes, standing still, allowing her instinct to take over.

"Easy, Freia," she whispered, though she herself felt uneasy. Someone was here. She didn't know who or why they weren't revealing themselves. Was it an ambush? Maybe someone had discovered what she was transporting?

And then, without any sound, without warning, a figure emerged before her. Appearing like a shadow, silently, from the darkness of the mine corridors. Rose barely restrained herself from reaching for her weapon. The man was dressed in a dark, gray cloak, and his face was hidden under a deep hood that cast a shadow over his eyes. He had a confidence in his posture that betrayed his experienced nature, though his smile was cold and unpleasant.

"No trouble with the transport, I hope?" he asked, as if he had known Rose for years. His voice was low but had something unsettling in it – as if every word hid some secret.

Rose exhaled quietly, trying to control her rising unease. This had to be her client, though he looked nothing like she expected. Typically, smuggler clients were more nervous, less mysterious – after all, merchants, even illegal ones, had their standards. This one, however, gave the impression of someone operating on a completely different level.

"No, no trouble," she replied, though her voice carried a hint of doubt. Freia was alert, standing by her side, ready to act at any moment. "I have what you ordered."

The man stepped closer, his movements fluid, almost otherworldly. When his hood slipped slightly, Rose caught a glimpse of his face – rough, with sharp features, and a few scars that spoke of a hard life. However, his eyes were the most disturbing – dark, piercing, as if he saw more than anyone else.

"That's good," he replied coldly. "Whatever you're transporting is very valuable. It's good no one tried to stop you."

Rose frowned. Whatever you're transporting – those words felt like a blow to her smuggler's instinct. Did he really not know what the cargo was? Was it that well-hidden? For a moment, she felt a twinge of uncertainty. Maybe this was something far more dangerous than she had assumed.

"And what exactly is it?" she risked asking the question she had been biting her tongue to avoid from the start. She always preferred to know. Clients rarely hid such information from her, and now that she was here, in the middle of this strange situation, she wanted to know more.

The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, and he replied softly:

"Sometimes it's better not to know, smuggler. In our world, knowledge can be more dangerous than ignorance."

Rose felt a shiver run down her spine. Knowledge can be more dangerous than ignorance – those were words that made her feel as though she had suddenly stepped to the edge of a precipice, staring into an abyss that could swallow her whole. But she didn't respond, knowing that now was not the time for questions. She just had to finish the job and leave Kranos.

"Where's the payment?" she asked firmly, wanting to conclude the exchange as quickly as possible.

The man extended his hand, and from the sleeve of his cloak slipped a small, discreet credit chip, which he held between his fingers.

"Here's what you were promised," he said with a dismissive tone. "A fortune beyond your dreams. And a piece of advice: take the money, disappear from the galaxy for a while, and don't ask who you're really serving. Because some secrets... can destroy you."

Rose took the chip, not taking her eyes off him. Questions swirled in her mind, but none found their way to her lips. Freia, though still alert, seemed to accept the man's presence, though Rose knew it was just a façade. She didn't trust him, but she had no other choice.

                                                                                                ...

Boro (CT-7778)

Kranos was shrouded in silence, as if the planet itself was holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come. Boro (CT-7778) and his reconnaissance team, hidden in the dense jungle, watched the scene at the old landing site of the abandoned mines. Everything in this moment seemed surreal – a smuggler on a hostile planet, mysterious cargo, and the sudden appearance of a stranger who emerged as quietly as a shadow.

Boro, who had served in the 41st Legion for years, had seen many things in the galaxy. War had taught him distrust and caution. However, what he was observing now was different. His scout's instinct told him to remain hidden, in the shadows, and observe. Intelligence and espionage were just as important as open battles, and sometimes obtaining information could decide the outcome of entire campaigns.

From the position they had taken, they had a perfect view of what was happening below, in the valley. The transport ship – dark, sleek, like a shadow among the volcanic rocks – stood motionless on the landing site. The smuggler who had exited was no anonymous figure. Even from a distance, she exuded confidence and experience. This was no novice. Boro had a feeling she had many such jobs under her belt. Agile figure, determined gaze – this was someone who knew how to survive in the galaxy.

But it wasn't she who caught his full attention. Her companion, the enormous, wolf-like creature with silver-blue fur and golden eyes, was something Boro had never seen before. Its movements were silent and precise, as if it wasn't just an animal but something much more intelligent, alert, and ready to defend. Boro understood that this creature wasn't just a companion – it was a guardian, maybe even something more.

However, the most surprising thing was the stranger who appeared suddenly from the shadows, without any warning. Silent as a shadow, he appeared next to the smuggler, and his movements were fluid, almost unnatural. The way he appeared – without a sound and suddenly – made Boro feel a cold shiver. Who was this man? His posture suggested experience and confidence, but his clothing – a dark cloak, a hood hiding his face – screamed "mystery."

Boro didn't know who these figures were or what they were planning, but he knew one thing – they were dangerous. Not because they were armed but because they operated in the shadows, in secret. Spies. Mercenaries. Maybe Separatist agents. In this galaxy, there were many such figures who served no particular faction, only whoever paid the most.

"Smyk, what do you think?" Boro whispered to his companion, not taking his eyes off the stranger.

Smyk pressed the rangefinder to his helmet, analyzing every detail.

"This doesn't look good, commander," he replied quietly. "We have no idea who they are. But that transport? Definitely a smuggler. The only thing that bothers me is the cargo. Could it be weapons for the Separatists? Intelligence data? Something important, considering they paid for its delivery to Kranos."

Boro nodded. He had similar suspicions. But it wasn't just about the smugglers. What was this woman transporting? Why was the meeting taking place in such a distant, abandoned location? The fact that Kranos was a planet cut off from the main trade routes was its greatest advantage for anyone wanting to hide something. Separatists, pirates, arms dealers – all used such places to conduct their business without the prying eyes of the Republic.

Boro squinted, trying to read more from what was happening in front of him. The smuggler's creature, Dar'Shir, began to grow uneasy. It clearly sensed something. Perhaps it even sensed the presence of his team? Boro was sure that Dar'Shir had extremely heightened senses, but they were too far, too well-camouflaged to be discovered.

When the stranger stepped closer to the smuggler, Boro caught a fragment of their conversation. Though they were too far to hear the exact words, the man's gestures and the woman's posture said a lot. It was a trade, but something about the whole scene felt strangely tense. As if both parties didn't trust each other.

"Do you think this could be some kind of Separatist operation?" Crow asked, crouching next to Boro.

"Maybe," Boro replied, his voice quiet but full of focus. "It's possible the Separatists are using smugglers to deliver weapons or information. But that man... he doesn't look like a typical dealer. He knows something we don't."

Boro watched as the stranger extended his hand, handing the smuggler a credit chip. It was a simple element of the exchange, but the man's tone, the way he spoke – something about the whole situation was unsettling. The man wasn't just a middleman, that much was certain. His posture, the way he moved, the way he spoke, suggested that he acted from a position of power. Maybe he wasn't in command, but he had control over what was happening here.

"Keep your distance," Boro said to his team, watching as the smuggler and her companion prepared to conclude the transaction. "We need to find out what she was transporting. This is important, and we have to report it."

Boro knew that this reconnaissance mission could be crucial. The information they would gather could change the outcome of the war on Kranos. If the Separatists were planning something bigger, if the smugglers were involved in delivering them resources, this was something the Republic needed to know.

"We must be careful, though," he added, as if predicting what might happen if they were discovered. "We can't reveal ourselves. We don't know who they are or who they work for. But that cargo... it's more than just a simple delivery."

Boro watched as the smuggler and the stranger disappeared from sight, moving away from the meeting place. Had they not been so vigilant, they could have missed the most important element of this puzzle. But now they had to find out more. What was hidden in the shadows could change the course of the war on this planet – maybe even the entire galaxy.

                                                                                              ...

Rose

Rose held the credit chip in her hand, feeling the cool metal in her fingers. It was a much larger payout than she had anticipated, and that was what was starting to worry her. With each passing moment, as she thought about it more, she felt that something here was very wrong. Freia, standing by her side, was like a living warning – alert, with every hair on her neck bristling to the limit.

The man who accompanied her seemed indifferent to her doubts. His face was hidden under a hood, and his eyes – those dark, impenetrable gazes – seemed to see much more than they revealed. Rose had seen people like him before. Cold. Calculating. People who had no scruples, as long as they got what they wanted.

"What is it really?" she asked sharply, pointing at the sealed crate she had just handed over. She always knew what she was transporting, always had control. And now, for the first time, she felt that control slip away.

The man raised his head, and a thin smile appeared on his lips – but it wasn't the smile of someone who valued conversation. Rather, it resembled a predator considering whether it was worth attacking now or waiting for a better moment.

"Questions can get you into trouble, smuggler," he replied coldly, his voice was almost a whisper, as if it carried a quiet threat. Freia growled softly, her ears twitching, and her body tensed even more, as if she understood that the man had no intention of answering her directly. "Sometimes it's better not to know what you're transporting. The galaxy is full of things that can destroy you faster than a blaster. Believe me, for your own good, it's better if you never find out."

Rose squinted. She never liked being brushed off, and even less being treated like someone who should be afraid. Over the years of operating on the edge of the galaxy, she had learned that the most valuable asset was information – it was what gave you an edge, and now the man was denying her access to that knowledge. He was trying to manipulate her, to keep her in the dark. But who could pay so much for transport? Who was he, thinking he could intimidate her?

"I always know what I'm transporting," she replied coldly, not letting herself be provoked. Her eyes were on the crate, but she couldn't take her attention off the man. Freia was now standing right next to her, ready for action at any moment. "I know this isn't a regular shipment. If you want me to keep quiet, you'd better tell me what it is."

The man was silent for a moment, as if evaluating how much more he could tell her before things started to spiral out of control. His eyes, now more visible beneath the hood, were cold, like a black abyss.

"Knowledge can be more dangerous than ignorance," he replied, his voice echoing like a warning. "You know the galaxy. You know those who rule from the shadows. You don't want to find out who you're really working for. It's better to take the credit and disappear."

Rose felt her blood rush to her face, her heart starting to beat faster. This man had something about him that scared her, but she didn't want to show it. She couldn't. She had to know more.

Before she could respond, however, something suddenly changed. Freia, who had been standing quietly at her side, began sniffing the air, her body suddenly stiffening, and her ears perked up as if she sensed danger. Her fur started to bristle, and a low, threatening growl rumbled from her throat.

"Something's happening," Rose whispered, slowly reaching for her blaster. She knew that Freia never reacted without reason. The Dar'Shir animals had incredibly heightened senses, often sensing danger long before it appeared on the horizon.

At that moment, the silence over the mine was broken by a sudden whistle. It took only a second for Rose to understand what it meant – gunfire.

The first shots hit the rusty machines around them, smashing metal into fragments. Energy blasts lit up the dark, volcanic valley. Rose immediately dropped to the ground, hiding behind one of the wrecks, holding her blaster at the ready. Freia positioned herself in front of her, ready for whatever was coming.

"Get down!" the man shouted, though Rose was already acting instinctively. There was no time for deliberation, and adrenaline began to take over. Only one question ran through her mind: Who attacked them? Who else knew about this place?

More bursts of gunfire ripped through the air. The shooting was precise, targeted – not random. Rose managed to glimpse the man hiding behind one of the wrecked machines, ducking from the oncoming shots. He knew this might happen – the thought hit her like a punch. The man had been prepared for this kind of outcome. His movements were swift and decisive, as if he expected an ambush.

"What's going on?!" Rose yelled, trying to make herself heard over the gunfire. Another explosion tore through the air, scattering dust and metal fragments everywhere.

"It's none of your business!" the stranger replied, his voice cold but full of focus. He knew more than he was saying, and Rose had had enough of it.

But there was no time for more questions. The shots were getting closer, and the situation was looking worse. With each second, energy bolts flew overhead, ricocheting off the rusty wrecks and the walls of the mine. Rose felt the adrenaline flooding her body, forcing her to quickly assess the situation.

"Freia!" she called quietly, giving a signal to her companion, who stood up on her paws, ready for action. Rose knew they had to act fast. The Black Manta, her ship, was parked at the landing site, ready for takeoff, but they first had to make it across the open field, which meant fighting under fire.

The stranger didn't seem bothered by the chaos. His movements were fluid, precise. Whoever he was, he didn't fear either the gunfire or death. Rose had to find out who he was, what she had been transporting, and why they were being attacked. But for now, her priority was survival.

                                                                                                     ...

Boro (CT-7778)

Time on Kranos seemed to slow as Boro watched the situation unfold through his helmet's visor. From above, from the hill, his team had a perfect view of the landing site, where the smuggler and her companion were caught in the middle of an ambush. B1 battle droids opened fire without warning, and a barrage of blaster shots lit up the dark landscape.

"Commander, something's happening! The droids are taking control!" hissed Smyk (CT-4412), not taking his eyes off the rangefinder. He saw everything, and his voice betrayed rising tension.

Boro nodded, his thoughts quickly revolving around what he was now seeing. The situation was too serious to ignore. His mission was reconnaissance, but if the Separatists were taking over operations on Kranos, he had to act. B1 battle droids were simple machines, but they were numerous, and support in the form of two Vulture droids circling in the sky made the situation even more complicated. Their circling silhouettes cast long shadows over the landing site, ready to intercept anyone who tried to escape.

The smuggler and her client were trying to shield themselves behind the wrecks of old machines, desperately exchanging fire with the droids. Boro noticed her swift reactions – the woman had experience in combat, moving confidently, and her companion, the giant wolf-like creature, Freia, lunged at the metal enemies, tearing their limbs apart.

Boro had no more time for analysis.

"Crow, how many droids?" he asked quietly through the communicator, still observing the enemy's movements.

"Six B1 droids and two AAT tanks. The droids have air support. We need to watch out for the Vultures, they're circling too close," Crow was, as always, precise, and his voice was devoid of emotion. The scouts of the 41st Legion had no room for hesitation or fear.

"We're going in." Boro made the decision. They had no choice. The Separatists couldn't capture the cargo or destroy the smugglers. It was an opportunity to gain an advantage over the enemy, and Boro knew he couldn't ignore it.

"Smyk, you and Crow take position on the hill. CT-3009, sniper for support. Our priority is the droids and tanks. We'll expose ourselves when they start attacking head-on, and then flank." He issued the orders with the certainty required for every mission. He knew his men were ready. This was their specialty.

Smyk and Crow immediately moved into position, using the natural cover of the Kranos landscape. They took up positions on the hill, which gave them an excellent view of the landing site. CT-3009, the team's sniper, silently prepared his blaster, perfectly aligning his sights.

"Ready," Smyk said through the communicator when everyone was in position. They waited for the signal.

Boro watched closely. Down below, the smuggler and her client were in serious trouble. More droids were emerging from hiding, and their blasters flashed through the air like dozens of tiny stars. The woman and her client were pinned down, and their blaster fire was only a desperate attempt to stay alive. The droids had the numerical advantage, and she knew they couldn't win this fight alone.

"On my mark... fire." Boro whispered through the communicator. The clocks in his head ticked away the seconds, and finally, his hand rose into the air.

"Now!" Boro commanded.

In an instant, the silence was shattered by a volley of blaster fire from their weapons. CT-3009, the sniper, fired the first shot, hitting one of the B1 droids squarely in the head. The mechanical enemy shuddered for a moment and then fell to the ground, paralyzed. More blaster shots from Boro and his men tore through the ranks of the droids. Another droid fell to the ground after a shot from Crow, and its body was torn apart.

The B1 droids reacted instantly, changing their direction of fire, trying to target the clone team. Their mechanical movements were slow, and each of them was perfectly visible against the dark rocks and vegetation. The scouts of the 41st Legion were faster, more precise. The clones' blasters never missed.

"Tank!" Crow shouted, seeing one of the AATs turn its turret towards the clones.

Boro immediately dove for the nearest cover, and the rest of his team did the same. The AAT tank fired a powerful shot that hit a nearby rock, scattering debris everywhere. The ground shook from the explosion, and fragments flew into the air.

"Destroy that tank!" Boro ordered, shielding himself behind a piece of rock as the droid blaster fire began closing in dangerously.

Smyk and Crow quickly focused on the tank. Their heavy blaster unleashed a barrage of fire, and the powerful shots pierced the tank's armor. The tank shuddered for a moment before exploding, tearing apart its crew of droids. The second tank moved into action, trying to return fire, but its shots were inaccurate, and Boro and his team used the moment to regroup.

Meanwhile, Freia, the smuggler's companion, pounced on one of the droids, her powerful jaws clamping down on the metal limbs, ripping them apart. The smuggler leaped from behind cover, exchanging fire with the droids, using the cover provided by Boro's team.

"Join us!" Boro shouted, signaling the smuggler to move closer to them.

The man accompanying her struggled to exchange fire with the droids, covering them from the rear. He was effective, though his blaster seemed outdated compared to the clones' weaponry. However, his precise shots hit their mark. The B1 droids were gradually being eliminated, and the battlefield was littered with their metal remains.

"We need to destroy the second tank before it starts firing again!"

                                                                                              ...

Rose

Rose emerged from cover, raising her blaster and aiming at another B1 droid. The shot from her weapon struck the mechanical body directly, which immediately fell to the ground with a metallic crash. Smoke rose over the landing site, and the flashes of blasters and explosions of volcanic rocks around her echoed through the darkness of Kranos. Freia was right beside her, her large golden eyes blazing with fury, and her silver fur rippling as the animal tore into more droids, ripping them apart with her powerful jaws.

The scouts of the 41st Legion – they were the ones who had come to her and her client's rescue. Clone soldiers of the Republic, who had unexpectedly arrived to help, appeared like ghosts, almost out of nowhere, opening fire on the Separatist droids. Rose felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. Why were they here? Was it a coincidence? Or did the Republic know about her transaction?

"Freia, stay close!" she shouted, seeing her wolf-like companion pounce on another target, knocking a B1 droid to the ground.

The droids were more numerous, but the clones' movements were fast, precise, and their blasters more effective. Each shot was deliberate, and every droid that fell to the ground meant a greater chance of survival for her. However, Rose knew this wasn't the end of their problems – something bigger was in the air. The greatest threat still came from the AAT tanks, which still had the advantage in firepower.

In one of the brief moments when the shots stopped coming her way, Rose peeked out from behind cover, assessing the situation. The destroyed tank was still smoking, its wreckage scattered across the landing site. But the second tank – its massive turret began to turn towards the clones and Rose.

"We need to take out that tank before it shoots us all down!" she shouted to the man who had been helping her in the exchange. The man, his face now partially visible, nodded coldly. His hands were steady, and the blaster he held continued to fire precise shots.

However, this man knew more than he let on. That much was clear to her. Who sent him? Did he know the Separatists would show up? Rose felt questions swirling in her head, but now was not the time to seek answers. They had to survive.

The Vulture droids, which had been circling above them, lowered themselves, ready to strike. Their wings flashed in the glow of volcanic eruptions as they swept through the air like predators preparing to pounce. The sound of their engines made Rose's heart race. They had to deal with these droids before they launched their attack from above.

In an instant, the air was pierced by a loud shot. One of the clones, hidden on the hill, hit one of the Vulture droids, smashing it into pieces that fell to the ground in a shower of sparks and smoke.

"Nice shot!" Rose shouted, but her voice was drowned out by another explosion. The AAT tank fired, and the blast hit the nearby rocks, scattering debris in all directions.

Rose crouched, shielding herself behind a piece of destroyed machinery as the explosions echoed around. Her heart pounded like a drum, but she knew they had to destroy that tank before it tore them to shreds.

"Freia!" she called, and her wolf-like companion immediately moved closer, ready for another attack.

That's when she saw Boro, the clone commander, using the terrain's cover to move closer to the tank. His precision and experience were undeniable. This wasn't an ordinary soldier. He led his team with such confidence that Rose felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they could survive this.

"We're moving in on the tank!" Boro shouted to his team, his voice firm and commanding.

Rose knew they had to act now, before the tank could fire again. She decided to take the risk. She stood up, peeking out from behind cover, and aimed her blaster at one of the droids guarding the tank. She fired, and a well-placed shot hit the droid's head, sending it to the ground in a whirl of sparks and debris.

"Freia, go!" she shouted, and her wolf-like companion charged forward, ready to attack.

The clone soldiers opened fire, showering the tank and droids with a barrage of blaster fire. The shots hit the tank's armor, but it remained in position. Boro and his team continued their assault, aiming to first destroy the shield protecting the tank's main weapons.

Rose moved forward, heading for cover, as another explosion shook the ground. The remaining Vulture droid, which had survived the first attack, dove from the sky, launching a series of shots towards the clones. One of the shots hit the rocks nearby, scattering rubble everywhere.

"We need to finish this now!" she yelled, feeling adrenaline surge through her veins.

The AAT tank slowly turned its turret towards the clone team. Rose could see the shell was ready to fire. They were out of time.

In the last moment, Boro made the decision, throwing a grenade towards the tank. The explosion was powerful, and the vehicle shuddered before it blew apart, scattering debris in all directions. The explosion tore it apart from the inside, and the entire structure collapsed, engulfed in smoke and flames.

"Thank the stars..." Rose exhaled heavily, shielding herself from the shockwave of the blast.

The battle wasn't over yet, but at least the tanks were eliminated. Time was now on their side. Rose looked around, searching for her companion and Freia. This wasn't over yet.

                                                                                                  ...

Boro (CT-7778)

Boro watched as the chaos of the battle slowly came to an end. The B1 droids lay in pieces on the battlefield, their mechanical remains scattered across the landing site like broken toys. The AAT tanks had been eliminated thanks to the precise fire from his team, and the Vulture droids either fell in flames to the planet's surface or fled into the skies, not wanting to risk further confrontation. The scouts of the 41st Legion had acted with surgical precision, taking down every target in their path. But this wasn't the time for celebration – something about this fight still didn't sit well with him.

That's when he saw it – the client's cargo.

While the clones and the smuggler, supported by Freia, were eliminating the last droids, one of the energy blasts fired by the droids hit directly into the crate that the smuggler had previously handed over to her mysterious client. The crate shattered, scattering pieces of metal everywhere, and from its interior fell a strange, gleaming orb.

The orb didn't resemble anything Boro had ever seen before. It was made of some smooth, shining material, with strange engravings and symbols etched onto its surface. The engravings weren't in a language Boro could immediately recognize – they resembled ancient markings, as if they belonged to a long-forgotten civilization. The orb slowly rolled across the uneven ground until it stopped at his feet.

"Don't touch that!" the mysterious client shouted, visibly terrified, his voice full of panic, as if he had lost control. His face twisted in fear and anger. "Don't touch that orb!"

Boro blinked, confused by the man's violent reaction. What was it? Why was he so scared? Questions flooded Boro's mind, but his instinct told him to act quickly. He had seen too much in this war to ignore such details.

Despite the man's warnings, Boro picked up the orb. Its surface was cold, almost icy, even though the air around was hot from the battle and volcanic eruptions. As his fingers touched the strange engravings, he immediately felt something odd – as if the entire reality around him suddenly slowed down.

Before he could understand what was happening, he felt a sudden pressure in his head. Images. Images began flashing before his eyes at such speed that he couldn't fully comprehend them. For a moment, he saw battlefields, and then... galactic maps, unknown planets, ancient cities in ruins. Strange, unsettling figures, resembling phantoms, flickered through his consciousness. He felt that these visions weren't normal – as if they were fragments of something much larger, hidden deep within the orb. Or maybe... it was some ancient power?

The images became more and more intense – swirling lights, figures speaking in languages Boro didn't understand. He saw the galaxy in chaos, planets consumed by wars, and then... suddenly, everything went quiet. Before his eyes, a final vision appeared – a mysterious symbol, resembling the markings on the orb, flashed in his mind.

Boro felt his body starting to give out. The world began to spin, and the image before his eyes blurred. He felt his heart beating slower and slower, as if everything around him was sinking into silence.

"What... is... happening?" he managed to say, but his voice barely came out. He tried to maintain his balance, but his legs began to give way beneath him.

The last thing he heard was the panicked voice of the client, who shouted in his direction:

"You shouldn't have touched that! You have no idea what you've just done!"

Boro tried to defend himself, but it was too late. His body collapsed to the ground, and darkness fell before his eyes.

He lost consciousness, and the orb quietly rolled in his hands, glowing with a faint, ominous light.