Clone Wars Ambush Novels & Stories

That is all that matters. The first major ambush struck suddenly. Shadows poured from the canyon cliffs in a synchronized wave, forcing the trio to split. Elena fired midair, her arrows striking rapidly. Marcus intercepted attackers from above, knives moving in precise, fluid motions. Adrian countered with lethal force, muscle memory, and instinct guiding every strike. The mysterious figure moved as if part of the mist itself, covering flanks and reinforcing traps seamlessly.

Carl supported Amelia by the arm. A few splashes of blood stained his deep black suit, yet they only made his posture appear even more upright and his presence more forbidding. He swept his gaze around once more and, after confirming that there were no hidden enemies, spoke in a calm voice: "The ambush here has been cleared. Ahead lies the mountain gate of Solaris Hold. We should set off." Amelia nodded, withdrew her gaze, and lifted her head to look toward the depths of the mountain forest.

The attack was brutally efficient. It began with a massive sanitation truck pulling out from a side street, blocking the road. As Katherine’s lead car screeched to a halt, the ambush was sprung. From the darkness on either side of the road, figures emerged. They moved with a low, loping gait that was disturbingly animalistic. The streetlights caught the glint of automatic weapons and something else… eyes that glowed with a faint, predatory light. The Shadow Claws. Katherine’s security team was good. They were highly trained ex-cops and military. But they were human. They were not prepared for this.

Dust and shattered debris burst outward while Terminus Cliff shook like a catastrophic earthquake. Entire ridges tilted, rocks tumbled down the slopes, and those who remained standing along the cliff had to grab onto the edge to keep their balance. Every face showed the same shock as they stared at the apocalyptic power unleashed before them. "All 326 experts are elite fighters. None of them is weak. They were carefully selected for this ambush, and they have clearly been planning Mr. Clarkson Senior's assassination for a long time. They won't stop until he is dead." "With such destructive power, can he survive?"

Ambush is an art, and we were the bad kind of craftspeople. The first clash was a crack of sound and fury. Maddox dropped off his bike like a moving battering ram, shoulder-first into the nearest rogue; the man didn’t stand a second under Maddox’s weight before metal hit bone. Jax cut in from the right, a blur, his fist finding another rogue’s solar plexus and sending him vomiting onto the gravel. Calder moved like a tidal wave, not flashy but unstoppable - a rogue came at him with a pipe and Calder caught it mid-swing, snapped his wrist, and then used the broken metal to finish a sentence with a skull.

He wants the story to be easy. The doors open again and Marcus enters with the quiet, steady gravity of a man who has never wasted a word in his life. I don’t stand. I don’t soften. I nod once. “Report,” I say. Marcus bows. “Basov led a patrol to the western ridge road at dawn.” A hush falls. “They encountered an ambush,” Marcus continues. “Twelve attackers. Coordinated movement. Disciplined formation. Not typical bandit behavior.” Elder heads tilt. Interest sharpens.

But Amara’s gaze stayed locked on the clone — the one that looked like her. “Why did they make you?” she whispered. The clone smiled faintly. “Because you wouldn’t kneel.” Before Amara could react, the clone’s hand pressed against the glass — and shattered it with inhuman strength. The explosion of pressure sent Amara flying backward. Luca caught her mid-fall as Cassian opened fire. Bullets tore through the chamber, but the clone didn’t fall — she absorbed them, her body healing as fast as it was breaking. “Retreat!” Cassian shouted.

They had been waiting for me. I still didn’t know why, and that bothered me more than the chains. If another club wanted territory, there were easier ways to start a war. If somebody wanted leverage, taking a club president alive could make sense, but nobody had identified themselves during the ambush. No colors. No announcement. No demand. They had simply come prepared for one specific man. Footsteps sounded outside the door, and my body tightened automatically. The lock scraped before a man from the ambush walked in carrying a bottle of water.

Kirou allowed himself a few moments to fully digest all the memories that he had received. *******Flashback******* The path that this clone took eventually led to the other side of the mountain where there was a path that led to a deep valley. The clone originally had no idea where to go but it had come across a few bandits patrolling the area. The clone stuck to the shadows and carefully followed behind the patrol without making its presence known. A few minutes later, the clone was led back to a well-constructed village that looked more like a well-fortified fortress as opposed to being a simple bandit hideout.

Isabella's jaws dropped and she got up. "Thanks," she shouted over her shoulders and ran towards the first floor where the A/V room was located. She skidded to a stop right in front of the A/V room and to her horror, she saw Hudson and Weston fighting like crazy animals. A crowd had gathered around them, watching them with their mouths hanging open. There was blood everywhere with busted lips and knuckles and so on and so forth. Isabella saw red. "Stop this immediately, " she shouted at the top of her lungs.