Star Wars The Clone Wars The General Novels & Stories

Charlie spoke up, “Didn’t you say that you are a Three-Star War General? Let me ask you, is this title of yours sponsored by Three-Star Group from Korea?” Yaron really felt the urge to die at this time, and he then explained offhandedly, “Master Wade, you’re really good at making jokes. A three-star War General is the lowest ranking amongst the War Generals in Ten Thousand Armies. The highest rank is that of a five-star War General. I’m at the three-star level and so, I am a three-star War General.”

I led my siblings toward the central complex, where a hidden biometric lift bypassed the student dorms and descended fifty feet into the earth. When the doors hissed open, the "General" was back. The underground hangar was a cathedral of black steel and blue light. Standing in perfect, bone-chilling formation were a hundred Goma Warriors. These were the elite—men and women who had trained in Greeneland for eight years, living as ghosts, waiting for the energy field over our homeland to flicker. "General on deck!" Jeff’s voice boomed.

"The General... that man on the deck... he isn't just a soldier. He’s the one who taught my father how to trade lives for stock options." I looked across the water at the lead warship. The man standing on the bridge—General Vane—lowered his megaphone. Even from this distance, his resemblance to my father was sickening. It was like looking at a version of my father that hadn't been hollowed out by fear, but filled with cold, calculating steel.

The unmistakable sounds of soldiers gathering. Inside the Nightbane house, every member of the family woke instantly. Warriors never truly slept deeply. Not after a lifetime of battle or after years spent surviving war. Darion emerged first. The General strode through the front doors wearing nothing but simple black training clothes. Yet, despite the lack of armor or weapons, power radiated from him so intensely that the air itself seemed heavier around him. This was not merely Kaelara's father. This was General Darion Nightbane. The man who had carried Silvercrest through three wars.

CHAPTER 22 ~CALLUM’S POV~ “I am the backbone that gives the Blue Lily pack the courage to forge ahead in the face of our adversaries…” I am the blood that pumps the blood of vengeance and strength through the veins of our warriors… I am the bane of my enemies and the light of my people… “I am Regina Shepherd," the fucking queen of war, and when I say this raid isn't going to happen, then it wouldn't happen! Earth to Callum!

Delilah's POV The armed men clear a path in their middle, and the war general emerges from their midst. At his appearance, the banquet hall becomes pin-drop silent. His jet black hair falls down his shoulders in loose curly strands. His well-toned muscles press against the material of his black clothes. "General Kane, we agreed you won't near Silver Crest territory. Why are you here?" Enzo confronts the general. Tension hangs in the air as the war general makes his way through the crowd, completely ignoring the Alpha. Everyone clears from his path and his men follow behind him.

"Your father was Stuart Bent Snr. He died in the bomb blast that killed dozens of Blood Crest Pack members. You are the first child of two and the only surviving one. You enjoy watching wrestling matches even though you hate the real deal. For a snack, your go-to is dark chocolate. Might I add more?" "It's really you, Alpha Seven!" Stuart screeched. I nodded. "The real one. Not the same as the impostor, got it?" Stuart shook his head slowly. "Are you really saying that a clone has been ruling over us for five years? How is that even possible?"

His face was familiar, but I couldn’t remember him. "General, what can I serve?" Instead of answering, the general ushered me inside our hall. My jaw literally dropped and my eyes widened because of his action. "General, what can I do—" He immediately interrupted me by placing his finger in front of my mouth. “You don't have to call me general anymore because I am . . . your friend, Cladius Won.'' I was dumbfounded and speechless. He was—what?

His grandson, Dylan, is now the newly appointed General, tasked to command the whole human fleet against the supernatural body. "What you're telling me is that my son Dylan, unseated you from being the general?" asked the General's son, David. "That's impossible! He's nothing but a caitiff! And what the hell's really going on? Why did they appoint a seventeen-year-old kid to be the human race's representative on the Board?" "War," General Perez said. "War, my son. And it's already here."

I called to him. “Luna, we can’t stay in the field any longer,” the general rushed worriedly. “There are too many wolves. We can’t discern who belongs to which pack or who the enemy is.” “I know,” I assured him. “Please tell me you have something that explodes?” General Clarkson stared at me for a moment. His lips pursed. His posture tense. Finally, he waved me to follow him. He led Tarvyn and me to the small tent that had been erected for him. Stepping inside, he went to the cot and knelt down, pulling out carrying case. He opened it to reveal a supply of grenades.