Matthew Stover

The creature standing there was short, with green skin, large eyes, and even larger ears. Leaning on a gnarled walking stick, he was dressed in the kind of simple robe worn by lower-class beings all across the Republic.
And somehow, he seemed familiar.
"Commander Brolis, you are?" the creature asked.
"Yes," Brolis said, frowning. "Who are you?"
"The reinforcements you requested, I am," the creature said dryly. "Tell me: into the Fortress of Axion, you have penetrated?" Brolis grimaced. This was his reinforcements? "Briefly," he confirmed. "That's why the Separatists out there want me alive. They want to find out how we got in so they can plug that hole in their defenses."
"Indeed." The creature smiled, his long ears flattening as he did so. "For that same reason do we also wish you alive. That is why I am here." He lifted his stick and pointed to the opening. "Aside, stand you. Deal with the droids, I will." Without waiting for permission, he hobbled forward. Brolis watched, his brain too frozen with bewilderment and the pain of his injuries to try to stop him. The creature paused just outside the gap, letting his stick drop to the ground and reaching a three-fingered hand in front of him. There was a flicker of motion, and a small cylinder seemed to jump into it from beneath his robe.
And with a snap-hiss, a brillant green blade blazed into existence.
Brolis caught his breath as the memory finally clicked. Kamino-the embarkation of the Republic's clone army- a small creature distantly seen across the ordered rank as he led the troops into the transports.
Reinforcements, indeed. This was Jedi Master Yoda himself.