It pained her deeply, this cruel twist of fate. Smaug, once the fierce guardian, now gazed through the eyes of a creature unrecognizable—even to herself. She writhed within, her spirit in shackles as she watched in horror the chaos of her own making unfold.

The stalwart star cruisers, engineered to withstand the harsh volley of enemy fire, now bore the scars of her unbridled inferno. Their walls wept with burns, a macabre tapestry woven by the dragon's searing breath, the heat of her flames unrivaled even by the stars from which they were birthed.

And within that maelstrom of destruction, Smaug could only watch, a prisoner within her monstrous form, as every scorching pulse of her essence betrayed those she had once sworn to defend. With a heart split by sorrow and a ferocity she could not tame, she witnessed the beam of her fiery will, a lance of pure devastation, piercing through the hull of the allied ship.

A silent scream echoed through the void, a lament for the irreplaceable, as Smaug mourned the unfolding tragedy—a tapestry torn, not by the claws of an adversary, but by the very talons meant to shield them.

Smaug's eyes, aglow with the luster of molten gold, now pooled with the sheen of sorrow. As the charred remnants of the fallen drifted through the void—a solemn ballet of what was—her dragon heart constricted, each beat a dirge for the lost. Though it was not Anakin nor his brethren who floated in burned repose before her, they were kin of spirit, companions entwined in the battle's cruel tapestry.

With a beat of her wings heavy as the grief that weighed upon her, Smaug felt the agony permeate through the dying whispers of the Force. A sorrow-stricken roar burst from her maw, the sound a raw and piercing testament to the torment within.

Then, as if carrying the unbearable burdens of a thousand wars, she turned tail. With her departure a flight, not of the fearsome beast of legend, but a creature seeking solace in the numbing expanse of hyperspace, she vanished. Behind her, the embers of friendship and camaraderie lay smoldering in the shadow of her despair.

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Silence—an all-consuming, boundless void—cradles Smaug as she navigates the ineffable currents of hyperspace. The quiet is a stark contrast to the cacophony of destruction she left behind, a refuge from the roar of flames and the cries of the fallen.

As she emerges from the numbing hush, the planet Kamino unveils itself beneath her—its endless oceans mirroring the tumultuous skies of her tormented soul. It's a planet she's heard of, spoken of in reverent tones for its creation of the very soldiers she now mourns—the clones she's come to cherish.

Realization dawns upon her, as chilling as the void itself; not a single vessel pursues her from Kamino, no search party dispatched to retrieve their wayward dragon. Smaug's departure was a solitary affair, her flight a solo voyage into the great unknown, her presence an absence deeply felt yet unchased.

Compelled by a yearning to reconnect with those she regards as kin, Smaugh directs her wings towards a beacon of solace—the outpost on the remote Rishi Moon. Slicing through the atmosphere with the grace of a comet, she touches down upon its surface—a celestial entity seeking anchor in a world unturned by her fury.

Here, on this moon far from the upheaval of war, will she find the echoes of the kindred spirits she's fled? Or will the silence that embraced her in hyperspace find its kin in the desolation of Rishi, an outpost untouched by her chaotic legacy, a place where peace might just mend the tatters of her spirit?

Her keen olfactory senses are immediately enveloped by the unique aroma of new clones—fresh and sharp, a scent reminiscent of dew upon metallic plains. The familiarity brings a sense of companionship to her lonesome arrival, an unspoken connection to the legacy of Rex and Cody's formidable lineage.

With a soft, cooing sound resonating from her throat, Smaug contemplates the two stalwart leaders she regards with such fondness—the venerable commander and captain who have braved countless battles by her side.

As she slithers towards the outpost, her imposing figure stands as a silent sentinel upon the moon's barren surface. A stir in the solitude draws her gaze towards a delicate Nebray manta, gliding gracefully over a trench on the moon, its sinuous movements a serene ballet in the stark landscape.

A small smile graces her draconic mien as she unfurls her wings, casting a gentle shadow over the creature that dances beneath her russet underbelly. With the whisper of wind beneath her wings, she descends gracefully onto the platform of the outpost.

Her arrival does not go unnoticed. A clone, eyes wide with wonder and caution, hastily communes with his brethren. "Alert, there is an unfamiliar creature on the platform above," his voice crackles through the comm.

Curiosity gently tilts Smaug's head as she regards the clone. "Fear not, little one," her voice a soft cascade, "I am not here to bring harm."

"Who are you?" he asks, his voice quivering with the trepidation of a soldier who has seen the true face of war but now confronts the unknown.

"I am Queen Smaug," she responds, her tone a reflection of her regal grace, as she leans down, the warmth of her breath ruffling the hair on his head. "I've merely come to find respite."

The clone's scent, tinged with the tangy notes of a world unlike her own, differed starkly from the earthy familiarity of Rex and Cody. Yet, it was the very difference that spoke of new bonds to be forged on the soils of this remote outpost beneath the watchful stars.

"Just a deck officer, sir," he proclaims with a crisp snap to attention, an attempt to cloak his surprise in the armor of discipline as the majestic creature before him transforms.

The dragon's imposing figure shimmers, an ethereal transformation enveloping Smaug as she metamorphoses into the visage of a tall, red-haired woman. The soldier's eyes widen—a kaleidoscope of emotions reflected within their depths—at the sight of such unexpected beauty.

With a hint of a mischievous smile, Smaug brushes a hand lightly over his polished armor. "Thank you, soldier. Your valor is noted, though your name shall remain yours alone," she murmurs, her voice carrying the undertone of a queen's assurance.

"I—if you go inside, I'm confident the Sergeant will attend to you," he stammers out, his gaze momentarily wandering to safer territory than her mesmerizing presence.

"Your concern is appreciated. Continue to stand strong, watchful beneath these stars," she responds with a gracious nod, then strides past him with the fluid grace of royalty.

As she disappears into the outpost, a whisper of her passing—a fleetingly tactile memory in the form of a tail brushing his hips—leaves the deck officer shuddering, his thoughts abuzz with the enigmatic encounter, part of him yearning for more than the cold companionship of distant celestial bodies

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Smaug's arrival – unexpected as a rain in Tatooine – ruffled the perpetual calm that hovered over the outpost like the ever-present fog on the Kaminoan seas. The storm of her presence was still a whisper on the lips of every trooper there, a flurry of unease punctuating their routine.

Sergeant O'Niner's stoicism bore no cracks as he addressed her; his tone was steel, tempered by the heat of the many battles he had endured. "I can assure you, ma'am, that what sheen you find here is hard-earned through perseverance and toil. Glamour is scarce where men are plenty."

Undeterred, Smaug hummed a note that reverberated with the subtlety of command. "I am certain the sheen is not without its merits, Sergeant," she said with a smile that carried with it the grace of a gentle monarch. "Your men's diligence is mirrored in the polish of this outpost – an outpost still teeming with fine soldiers."

She paused, the pat upon her chest an echo of the heart that beat for those she had left behind. "Yet I surmise, there's room for rest amid your vigil. I'll not ask that you uproot your service for my comfort, but I seek respite from my arduous journey."

O'Niner's refusal to yield his personal quarters was a gesture not lost on her, the offering a testament to his unwavering dedication. "Your graciousness is noted, Sergeant O'Niner," Smaug replied, her eyes softening. "However, my desire lies in communion with the guardians of this remote sanctuary. Lead me to your men."

The soldiers, attuned to the rhythm of orders and drills, found themselves out of cadence with the spectacle unfurling before them. Each one, though clad in armor that unified them, harbored his own silent wonder at the otherworldly figure who sought their fellowship, a queen in exile amongst knights forged in batches.

The moment held a casual air, punctuated by Fives' characteristic lack of formality. His light-growing goatee gave him a touch of distinctiveness, a sort of personal rebellion within the sea of identical faces. "So, Officer, how is the front line treating you? Aren't you one of Chancellor Palpatine's?" he prodded, curiosity laced in his tone.

With a simple smile, Smaug deflected, "It's quite alright. I merely needed to withdraw from the cacophony for a few days. A temporary respite," she replied, allowing her eyes to study Fives—a momentary glance into his soul before she softened her gaze. "But, I am curious, what drew you to ponder my absence from the galactic bustle in lieu of the snug hideaways on Naboo or Coruscant?"

The grin that unfolded upon her visage was neither that of a Queen nor an Officer but rather that of a comrade finding warmth in shared jest. "Naboo's charms and Coruscant's vibrancy hold their allure, but I find a unique solace among those who bear the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders. And, regards to serving the Chancellor—it was an era closed with my resignation; I seek now the camaraderie in spaces less opulent but rich with spirits as unyielding as durasteel."

For a fleeting moment, the outpost seemed to shine not from sterile maintenance but from the glow of understanding that illuminated the faces of the soldiers. Smaug had chosen them, and that choice, inexplicable yet sincere, bound her not only to their outpost but also to the hearts of men molded for war yet capable of unwavering loyalty.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Echo," Smaug acknowledged, her words laced with the unmistakable timbre of a queen, though expressed with the grace and ease of a comrade in arms.

Echo, a font of quiet strength among his brothers, felt the barriers of reserve gently erode when touched by her easeful manner. "It would be my honor," he replied, a respectful incline of his head betraying the faintest hint of a ruddy warmth creeping upon his cheeks.

With grace in her step and assurance in her voice, Smaug urged him on, "Please, carry on. I'm eager to see where I shall lay my head."

Together, they made their way through the outpost's arteries, the queen quietly appreciating the subtle symphony of daily life here - the clank of a trooper's boots, the soft murmur of conversation, the underlying serenity that pervaded the atmosphere.

Reaching the threshold of a room with a promise of solitude, Smaug paused at the doorway, its entrance an unspoken boundary between her storied past and the muted present. "This will serve well," she affirmed with a gentle nod, her regal aura momentarily slipping into something akin to human normalcy.

Echo, poised at the precipice of protocol and personal curiosity, held the air of one ready to be dismissed back into the fold of duty. Smaug's hand on his arm was an arresting sensation. "Take care of yourself, Echo. And your brothers," she implored, adding a gravity that reached deep into the ethos of their brotherhood.

As the door clicked shut, a sound that resonated with finality and beginning alike, Echo was left with a heart now racing—a harmony of admiration, duty, and the whisper of a question as to how the presence of one so varied in nature would ripple the waters of their world.

Inside, Smaug breathed in the essence of her new quarters—a haven of stillness for one so often caught within the tempest. Here, reflection awaited, and perhaps, in quiet contemplation, the seeds of her next steps would germinate beneath the glow of the Rishi moon.