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(POV Shift: Jedi Master Djinn Altis)
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''Master Altis?''
''Yes, I feel it, too, my dear.''
Jedi Master Djinn Altis stood at the command console and closed his eyes to concentrate on the welter of sensations in the Force. Sometimes he sensed light dying somewhere behind his eyes, tiny short-lived flashes like subatomic particles; sometimes the lights lived longer and turned into great shimmering ribbons of color that wove and tangled into infinity. Now, though, the sensation was like microscopic pellets of hail hitting his scalp just under the skin, melting into cold water that ran down inside his spinal canal.
He recognized it for what it was. A feeling his Force-Sense had felt all too keenly in recent months as it was the collective distress and anger of a world tipping over into violent conflict. This was how the Force spoke to him, its unique voice, its tone different for every Force-user who bothered to listen.
The melting hail-like effect was starting to become a common sensation in this war.
And that caused him no small amount of anguish.
''We don't have to sit out this war.'' Callista Masana slid into the navigator's seat and checked the screen in front of her as if some crisis might be visible on the plot. She put both hands on the transparisteel plate that covered the display, eyes closed, as if she were communicating with the computer system. She seemed to be as attuned with inanimate objects as she'd been with the tsaelkes on her parents' farm. ''Is there truly nothing we can do?''
''We're doing it, Calli. Humanitarian relief.'' There were hundreds of tons of supplies—food, medicine, water purifiers, tents—in the ship's hold, bound for Yarille. ''Someone has to. A war's not solely about fighting.''
''You've never said if you think we should take up arms or not, Master. One day soon, we may have to do just that.''
''I'm not a pacifist. I'll meet force with force when I have to.''
''The definition of a pacifist.'' Callista said, easing herself out of the seat again.''Is someone who knows the depth of violence inside them, understands that there's no going back once it's unleashed, and so chooses to never let it loose.''
''I never said pacifists lacked courage or aggression. Actually, you've just defined the philosophy of many militarists—that force is there not to be used.''
"But what's a deterrent worth if you know it'll never be unleashed? What would be the point of spending so much effort and so many resources into creating, maintaining, and perfecting a deterrent if it's never going to get used?" Callista protested.
''And there, my dear, is the line. The pacifist says — I will not add fuel to this fire, even though I may want to because in the end, adding to it may consume the world, and someone has to say … stop.'' Altis tapped the lightsaber hanging from his belt. ''A pacifist would not carry this because he would not want the temptation of using it. The Jedi … the Jedi, then, is not a pacifist because he chooses to stop the fire b
y violence, on the basis that fewer will suffer that way. The difference is vast—do ends ever justify means? That's our constant dilemma. My old friend, Qui-Gon Jinn often said that the true difficulty laid not in the temptation, but in knowing when it was time to act, and the act of not intervening too early that was the most difficult temptation to resist.''
''And we're at war. It's not theoretical now. And we're not waiting for permission to save lives.''
''It never is. The choice is always with us, demanding to be made with every action we take, even in peacetime.'' Boots clattered down the passageway, and Geith stuck his head through the hatch. ''Forget the disturbance in the Force for a while and get something to eat. We have heavy work ahead of us when we reach Yarille.''
Geith wandered onto the bridge and put his arm around Callista's shoulders. They made a very charming couple. The fact that they were a couple, nothing remarkable in this Jedi sect, was a quiet embarrassment that the rest of the Jedi Order tried hard to ignore.
Attachment leads to suffering. Suffering leads to fear. Fear leads to anger …
The trap of passion. The fast track to the dark side.
Very well, Master Yoda. But what about the trap of abstraction? Compassion…compassion is an act, not an idea.
''I missed a good debate, Master.'' No, Geith was just a decent young man with Force powers who happened to love a girl very much like him. There wasn't the slightest hint of darkness in him, only this comfortable sense of an orb of warm light, like a sunset at the end of a still day. ''If the means are morally unacceptable, then the ends must be unjustifiable.''
''And what does that mean in real terms? Will you know it when the decision has to be made?'' Altis feared the disconnection with reality that he felt he saw in the Jedi Order. The theory was laudable on its own, the lesson repeated faithfully, but it had to be applied with each breath, each step; to crush an insect carelessly or step to one side, to return fire or call for peace talks. To just do it. Don't just say it. ''Show me the next time you have to face that choice. Call me to witness it.''
Callista and Geith leaned against each other like two old trees that had grown together over the years, oddly old and permanent for a moment.
''Do you think we should overthrow the Republic, then?'' Geith said. ''Yes, Master, we should. Shouldn't we?''
''Explain.'' He said shortly.
''The excuse of 'they started it' might be fine for children, and self-defense is reasonable, but …''
''Yes, go on.'' He presses.
''The army. Anyone with a scrap of honesty and common decency can see it's wrong to breed human beings and make them fight in a war they'd otherwise have no business being part of. We have no moral authority. We've already lost what we're supposed to be fighting for in this war. Even if the Republic wins.''
Geith, like Callista, had had the fortune to have known his parents before he'd become a Jedi. He'd been orphaned, but he was able to remember them, and that attachment — love, let everyone call it what it was, love, any kind of love someone could be bothered to care to name — felt good and it felt secure. Callista — she'd been an adult working on her parents' farm when she became Altis's second Padawan. It was unheard of, in the Jedi Temple at least. She knew her own mind. And she could see things and make deductions a temple trained Padawan could not.
He preferred his Padawans to enter the Order with open eyes and a maturity born from living one's life. His Padawans should make an act of conscious choice, not habit or coercion or someone else's decisions.
There was no way — even if he wanted to — that Altis could make Callista and Geith believe that attachment was the seed of a darkness that would engulf them.
And that was why the orthodox Jedi way is to begin with infants. They know no better.
''So … how do we deal with a war we can't avoid?'' Altis asked at long last.
''We pick our battles.'' Geith said. ''We fight, but on our own terms. Not that the rest of the Order wants our help anyway.''
Altis had offered to help the war effort. He had been … unspecific. Yoda had been gracious, noncommittal … and distant.
But it was not about his relations with the Jedi Order. It was about his duty to living beings. He wasn't gonna to ask for permission to help people, a good man didn't need anyone's permission to do that.
''It might not be their decision to make.'' Altis said. ''Now go and eat.'' He shooed the two away. ''And please fetch me some mealbread when you come back.''
Altis felt the icy water trickle through his spinal canal again. He settled down in the pilot's seat, folded his arms, and let the navigation screen blur into slight defocus as he meditated. Yarille was a yellow dot in the top left corner at this range, and on the right-hand margin the Fath system was just visible.
Sometimes, when he did this, he wasn't immediately sure what he was seeing for a moment — the traces on the screen itself or some visual manifestation of his state of trance. He drifted for a moment at that point between perfect awareness of his surroundings and complete detachment from the physical world.
Throughout the ship, members of the sect — male and female, adult and child, families and individuals, Jedi and non-Jedi alike — seemed to pause as well.
The ice wouldn't leave him alone.
Lights danced.
Altis snapped out of his trance and hit the range control on the scanner. The region of space covered by the sensors magnified a hundredfold to give him much more detail, and he saw a small cloud of enemy transponder traces appear right on top of the Fath system. He adjusted again, and the Separatist ships were moving on JanFathal.
Altis knew with Force certainty that Wookiee Gunner would need to be there, and soon.
He hit the hazard alarm on the console. A shipful of Jedi didn't need the alert.
But Altis sounded it anyway.
''Curious…'' Altis muttered as he felt another mind touch his.
A mind belonging to a Force-sensitive strong in the Force.
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(POV Shift: Kellian Ordo)
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''Like what you saw?'' He asked Ahsoka. He'd just finished mopping the floor with sixteen men after having gone through an intense spar against several midshipmen and clones.
The midshipmen had heard he was a practitioner of the Echani Martial Arts and challenged him.
He in turn goaded the Clones into accepting.
Kellian had upheld tradition somewhat by removing his armor and bearing his chest. This had been his first spar with his new Prosthetic. The arm had held up quite well.
Ahsoka meanwhile burned with a fierce blush.
''I wanted to talk with you. About two days ago?'' Said Ahsoka.
''Fair enough. Lead the way.'' Says Kellian.
--------------------------------
He was leant up against a railing overlooking the Hanger as Ahsoka fidgeted nervously.
''You gave me a lot to think about.'' Says Ahsoka at long last.
''I did, but I was just being honest. What is it you want to say, Ahsoka?'' He told her.
''I… I don't know. I'm not sure I even know what to say now.'' Says Ahsoka.
''Don't overthink it. Just let your heart tell you what you need to ask.'' Says Kellian.
…
…
…
…
…
Ahsoka takes a few minutes before looking at him with a hint of determination in eyes.
''You don't just find me beautiful do you? I felt something deeper than that in the Nebula.'' Says Ahsoka.
''Ahh shit.'' Kellian mutters, he'd thought he'd been able to bury that beneath necessity. Quickly tapping some buttons on his comm, Kellian sends a short-range localized EMP out. Ahsoka wouldn't detect it because it was not enough for her montrals to pick up on. It would short out any surveillance and recording devices.
''Kellian?'' Ahsoka pressed him.
''You're Right.'' He could have denied it. But there wasn't really a point. He tried not to lie to his friends.
''What exactly else is there?'' She says, emphasizing the word exactly.
''More than there can ever be.'' Says Kellian, before reaching out around Ahsoka's waist and catching her lips with us for a few seconds.
''Kellian…'' Ahsoka said in breathless surprise.
''Forgive me…I have wanted to do that longer than you could possibly know. Nothing could ever happen between us, but I'm not good at vocalizing this kind of thing, so I felt that that could properly convey it.'' Kellian said.
''Kellian, how long?'' Ahsoka asked, and he needed no answer.
''I have these… urges or impulses if you like whatever you want to call it works. For the most part I've been able to bury it. But I have had moments where I couldn't restrain it. When you and I met all those years ago in the temple I knew at once what I wished for. But I never vocalized it because what would it change? I'm sorry Ahsoka, this was a bad judgment.''
--------------------------------
(POV Shift: ?🌙?)
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He was unable to leave this accursed plane.
But he could meddle.
And with the birth of an old soul in the wider Galaxy he had a great opportunity to discard the balance his father maintained.
''What are you doing? You know it is forbidden to meddle in mortals affairs.''
Ah.
He should have known his sister would find out.
''Why are you here Morai? The old child has yet to receive the blessing. Doubtful he ever will, but he's destiny like ours is unclear. Until such a time as it is clear, I can interfere as I wish. Rules or no.'' He tells his sister.
''The last time you meddled, an unspeakable evil was unleashed. One that threatened to release her.'' He would never admit to her how much it hurt his pride to admit to himself how right she was.
''I made a mistake.'' He protested. ''But I learned from it. This child is different however, he remembers.'' He would probably regret telling his sister that, but she'd find out sooner or later.
''Are you sure?'' She asked.
''Yes, but this one is different. He comes to our realm with these feelings. I was curious what would happen if I pushed him a little and…I confess I expected him to resist. He might be the one to vanquish her…'' He told his sister.
''Are you sure? Absolutely?'' Asks Morai.
''Perhaps, Perhaps not. In the end it does not matter as our supply of the sacred waters will never be of use to him anyway.'' He decided.
''What is the mortals name?'' Asks Morai.
''Why so interested sister? You never bothered to know before.'' He asked.
''Just answer the question Signis!'' Morai glowered at him.
''His old soul name was @^÷)#>! :!%=@<>, but the mortals know him as Kellian Ordo.'' Signis answered.
--------------------------------
(POV Shift: Kellian Ordo)
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Just do it.
What's the harm?
You know you want to…
Show her what you want to happen, but know what cannot.
Those whispers preceded him kissing Ahsoka.
Why the fuck did he listen to them?
Ignoring his relationship with Chuchi, ignoring the Jedi Code, it violated his personal morals. She was fourteen. It was wrong, and after clearing his head, Kellian felt sick. He was seventeen, his personal morals demanded that he should have let her mature before even taking that leap. It was wrong.
So why the fuck did he listen to the whispers?
Why not?
Kellian ignited his lightsaber quickly whirling around.
There was no one there.
Really?
''Tell me one thing… do you preserve the balance between Dark and Light?'' Kellian suspected he knew who that voice belonged to.
Frankly he was surprised it took them this long.
I am not my father. I am beyond the Jedi and Sith, but I am of the Darkness.
That settled it.
''You're the Son. The One who drank from the Font of Power eons ago and who together his sister and father helped seal the Chaos Bringer away.'' Kellian says.
Bravo child. I must confess, you are not the first old soul to cross the barrier between the planes of existence. You're simply the first to do so with feelings and memories. Though I must ask…how much do really know about us?
''That was you wasn't it? The voices with Ahsoka?'' Asks Kellian.
Strictly speaking it was and it was not. You wanted it, I simply allowed them to go to the surface and whatever came of it was your own doing.
''You answered my question, so I'll answer your own. The Chaos Bringer will outlive you, your sister, and your father, but she will be vanquished forever after at least another forty galactic standard years. Now sod off, I have a job to do.'' Kellian said.
We will speak again soon…
''No, we will not.'' Kellian says, closing his mind off from the Force for a few minutes.
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(POV Shift: CT-7567/ Clone Captain Rex)
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''Captain! Sir''
The lieutenant swung around fast in his seat. He almost collided with Rex as he sidestepped a technician whose legs were poking out from underneath a partly dismantled sensor console.
MERIONES. Rex noted the name tag on his gray working rig. ''What seems to be the problem, Lieutenant?''
The ops room was cluttered with techs trying to trace a faulty wire that had left six sensor screens in a bank of fifteen completely dead. The fascia was unbolted and propped upright on the deck, leaning against the console. Thankfully long-range comms were back up.
''I meant - Captain Pellaeon, sir.'' Meriones paused for a breath. ''But look at the scan. That's a lot more Sep ships, sir, I'm sure of it.''
Rex leaned over the flickering screen and - after muttering a few choice words - gave it a heavy thump with the heel of his hand. The image stabilized for a moment; yes, there was now a cluster of ship icons in the Fath region, but no transponder IDs. The sensor should have generated an enemy code and superimposed it on the plot.
''Garbage.'' Rex muttered, thumping the screen's housing again as the Sullustan civilian technician working at the rear of it muttered mild annoyance, and Rex gave him an apologetic smile. Whenever civvie contractors went bothered to leave the factory or a dry dock with a ship post-refit to iron out problems, that wad when they knew they weren't safe at home in the yards anymore; they were on the frontlines with the grunts. Rex admittedly admired their willingness to live—or die—by the quality of their workmanship. He vaguely recalled General Ordo mentioning something about such contractors never getting half enough credit, General Skywalker had agreed, now Rex understood why.
''I was about to do that myself.'' The Sullustan went on testing a few wires. Then he picked up a small rubber-headed mallet. ''Got a special tool just for that purpose …''
''But is it Seps?'' Meriones asked anxiously.
Pellaeon walked into the ops room and came to have a look. ''Yes…'' he said. ''It is.''
'"It's a few hours' transit time.'' Rex said. ''Once we find out what they're doing.''
''Now do the rest of the math.'' Pellaeon's eyes flickered as if he was reading the screen. The image shook and distorted. ''One of us, seven of them, and we're not firing on all drives yet.''
The Sullustan's voice drifted up from behind the console. ''Drives are fine …''
''I was speaking figuratively.'' Pellaeon said with mild exasperation.
''I can't patch into ship tactical data yet.'' Rex said. ''But we're a day closer to Fath than any other vessel if HQ needs any surveillance.''
Pellaeon walked over to the nearest comm console, glared at it as if willing it to be in better shape than the rest of the kit in the room, and hit the key.
''Leveler to Fleet.'' He said. ''Fleet, this is Pellaeon.''
A few moments of silence ticked by as General Ordo entered the bridge.
''Tell them I wish to speak with them after you've delivered your message.'' General Ordo said to Pellaeon who nodded without a word.
''Captain Pellaeon this is Fleet, go ahead, sir.'' TheThe reply finally came.
''We're picking up Sep vessels in the Fath sector. Out of our range, but we'll continue to observe.''
''Copy that, Leveler. Are you fully operational?''
''No, Fleet, we are not. Stand by for General Ordo."
''Fleet Command? Thus is General Kellian Ordo. Jedi Master in charge of Republic Special Operations Brigade. Identification code J11600763611192. Awaiting confirmation?'' General Ordo said.
''Identification confirmed, speak freely General.''
''JanFathal and its sector are significantly rich in valuable ores and minerals. There is a critical Republic Intelligence operation in play on the sector capital world right now. With current heading, the seps are going to invade JanFathal. I'm ordering you to inform Field Marshal Skirata to mobilize the 414th Legion, and dispatch for 117th Clone Commando Battalion ahead of the 414th for an attempt to prevent the Separatists from gaining a foothold, on a world in sector that could supply enemy droid factories for the next fifteen years.'' General Ordo replied.
''Understood General, conveying orders now.'' Came the response.
''Leveler out.'' Pellaeon responded at The Generals nod.
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(POV Shift: ?÷?)
--------------------------------
Signis had broken another of his rules. He'd manipulated an old soul and then spoken to that being from beyond their prison.
But what Signis told him, concerned him greatly. The child had memories and feelings from the old plane. Which in itself was concerning. But his knowledge of the chaos bringers return and that it would follow their own deaths in the next forty galactic standard years made his own realization of his death all too real.
He needed to search for a successor to keep his children from warring and escaping. He'd been dying for a while and his search for the chosen one had stalled. Perhaps he should search the Force for answers, even if it had been silent to his probings for the last twenty mortal years.
--------------------------------
(POV Shift: CT-7567 / Clone Captain Rex)
--------------------------------
Rex's detachment of clones were the only troops on the ship apart from Leveler's crew and the two Jedi. There were no land forces embarked; this was just working-up, a sortie to evaluate the state of readiness of the ship, a test drive. The Leveler wasn't intended to fight in anything less than a skirmish — not yet at any rate.
So all the ship could do was observe.
Pellaeon seemed to be mulling something over. He raised his personal comlink to his lips.
''Number One, take us in a little closer to Fath until we get in transponder range. Then we'll deploy an observation droid. Nice and steady.''
''Very good, sir.'' Came the short curt response.
Rex decided to get ready for a little more than a sightseeing trip anyway. If push came to shove, Leveler had an equpped and operational - if an as of yet non-combat-tested set of concussion missile tube's. She was never intended to land, just to bombard targets from orbit or deploy landing craft to insert ground troops. He and his men weren't going to need to slug it out in classic infantry style.
Even so, Rex liked to be ready at a moment's notice and prepared for unexpected combat.
''Just popping back to the messdeck, Captain.'' He said, heading for the passageway.
Coric was showing the new boys the schematics of the new targeting arrays when Rex walked into the compartment. The troopers were all minus helmets, looking earnest, black hair meticulously trimmed. Rex suddenly regretted his novelty haircut and decided to shave it off when he got a chance. He didn't want to be that different from his lads. It was a dumb fad anyway, rather undignified for an officer. And they were Torrent Company, 501st Legion, the elite within the elite, the backbone of the infantry—Anakin Skywalker's own.
There was a certain level of prestige among the Army attached to their legion.
Ahsoka was sitting on one of the bunks against the port bulkhead, knees drawn up to her chin, arms clasped around her legs. She had that far-away look again; the one that said she was tuning in to something distant that Force-users alone could sense. Well, at least she didn't have faulty wiring. That's something. Rex folded down a seat and joined his troopers. They all looked at him.
He idly noted that General Ordo had followed him, and how Ahsoka looked away with a small blush upon noticing him.
Had something happened?
''Sep vessels clustering around Fath.'' Rex said. ''We're going to hang around in stealth mode and keep an eye on them. Not much else we can do at the moment. Some critical systems are down, and anyway, there's just one of us.''
''Never stopped us before.'' Said Coric.
''If there was a fight worth having, Pellaeon would be right on it, believe me.''
Joc glanced at Hil. ''Is it true he keeps getting passed over on promotion boards because he likes the ladies too much?''
''You're in this tub five minutes and already you're listening to gossip.'' Rex said tiredly.
''Sorry, sir.'' Joc paused. ''But why has an officer's personal business got anything to do with his promotion? Unless he likes Sep females, of course. I can see that would be a bit of a problem.''
Rex had to admire Joc's persistence. And that unblinking naïveté might well have been a dry sense of humor emerging.
''Not so much that as the fact that the old geezers on the Promotion Board find Pellaeon's current love interest to be against their Navy's age old traditions of career advancement.'' General Ordo speaks up.
''Meaning what General? She's a civilian?'' Asks Hil.
''Worse, she's an agent. Not that it's anyone's business, but the board finds his lovers lack of pedigree or connections to not be worth promoting him.'' General Ordo replied.
And besides that, it's conduct unbecoming of an officer.' Rex said. ''They're supposed to be squeaky clean and upstanding.''
''He's not married.''
'Joc should be in Intel. The kid has a natural talent.' Rex thought idly.
''But maybe his lady friends are.'' Said Rex.
Ahsoka chimed in. ''Attachment leads to the dark side. Because it leads to fear, jealousy, and anger.''
''Yeah, but that's just for Jedi.'' Coric said, seeming to give up on his carefully prepped talk on electronic warfare. ''Not everyone else.''
Nobody dared to ask the obvious — whether clone troopers were everyone else or not. Joc looked from Ahsoka to Rex and back again. ''What's wrong with attachment?'' he asked. ''Why can't you have attachments? You mean love, right?''
Ahsoka looked at the clones wide-eyed but in slight defocus, as if she was trying to recall something.
''Love is acceptable.'' She said at last. ''But not attachment.''
''What's love if it isn't attachment?''
''Attachment is … putting personal relationships first, caring about the people you love so that it influences how you act.'' Ahsoka seemed to be picking her words carefully. Coric stared back at her. ''You know, it affects your judgment.''
''But ol' Pellaeon's just having a spot of romance, if you know what I mean. It's not like he gets attached to any of them, is it? Is romance allowed? Can you have a spot of romance if you don't get attached?''
''Romance.'' Ahsoka said stiffly.''Is acceptable. Jedi are not … celibate. Just … no attachment.''
Ince adopted a wonderful frown of apparent bewilderment. ''That's a bit cold, ma'am. Love 'em and leave 'em?'-
Not that he knows what that means, poor lad, but …
''What about all the negative things Jedi might feel without attachment?'' Boro asked. They were all piling in now. ''You know … bitterness. Resentment. Jealousy. Loneliness. Anger.''
''Yeah.'' Ross said. ''It's not normal. Can't be healthy.''
Ahsoka was under siege. Rex debated whether to stop the baiting or see where it was going. These were kids, all of them. If Ahsoka wanted to command—and she did, it was clear—then she had to learn that young officers got a rough ride. His young clones, regardless of the constant training that told them Jedi were invincible and omniscient, saw her as a novice like them, projecting no real authority.
He didn't remember being like that. He's maybe a year older than them, if even that.
And it's only months since Geonosis, not even a year. It feels like a lifetime ago.
Ahsoka let go of her fierce defensive grip around her legs and sat up straight, boots on the floor.
''I don't make the rules.'' She said at last. Her voice was very different; there was a faint, rasping undertone, like the echo of a sand panther's growl, and Rex was reminded yet again that the Togrutas' primal ancestors were predators. ''But I accept that wiser beings made them, and so I'll follow them.''
"We follow orders, too," Hil said. "We understand. Except we can usually see what goes wrong when we don't."
"Yeah, you get hurt," Ross said. "Or worse."
''I have to deal in the unseen.'' Ahsoka said quietly.
''I agree with the clones. Many Jedi have had attachments and not Fallen to the dark side and more often than not, those who do are brought back into the light be their lovers.'' Says General Ordo.
''Speaking from experience, General?'' Joc pipes up.
''Yes. I've had romances before. Fleeting things. I hope that when this war is over, I can leave the Ordo and have a family someday.'' He said and Rex noticed the look shared between General Ordo and Ahsoka.
Yeah, something definitely happened between them.
Coric looked as if he was going to say something, and then he seemed to have thought better of it. He went back to his datapad. Rex decided the maneuvering was over and that Ahsoka had at least maintained her dignity.
''Okay, I want you all to be ready for enemy contact." He said. ''And this is not a drill.''
It was a cue for Ahsoka to leave if she wanted to. He knew her well enough by now to spot the ebb and flow of her moods, and he was guessing that she probably felt outnumbered; she would likely want to find a quiet spot to meditate.
''Shall I check out the ops room, Rex?'' She asked.
''Yes, good idea.'' When he first met her, she'd tried to pull rank on him as a Jedi. Now she'd matured enough to understand that she got a lot more respect by using a little restraint. ''Lieutenant Meriones probably needs cheering up. I think he's the wardroom outcast. I'm not good at that kind of thing, but you are …''
Ahsoka gave him a sad smile that said she knew perfectly well what he was doing and why. It was a good understanding to reach. After she was well out of earshot — Togruta Jedi earshot at that, which was a lot farther than a regular being's range — Rex folded his arms and leaned on the narrow table that was bolted to the deck between the bunks.
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(POV Shift: Kellian Ordo)
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Leaving Rex and his men behind, Kellian had went to the hanger bay. He found it somewhat easier to meditate surrounded by people who were just going about their day.
Not really sure why to be honest.
He'd always been more than a little off like that.
'Master…' Kellian called through the Force.
…
…
…
No response.
'Master…please…'' Kellian tried again.
…
…
…
…
…
'Kellian…'
'Master, good. You answered. Listen closely, there is something you need to know. I believe Sev'rance Tann is near me.' Kellian told Master Windu.
'Sev'rance Tann is dead.'
'No, Master, she is not. I'd never forget that presence in the Force. I only saw her from a distance, but her presence in the Force is as unmistakable now as it was then. Then there's the Republic classified Intel claiming she's still alive. I know what I felt Master.' Kellian responded.
'...'
'...'
'...'
'...'
'Do you require help?'
'Not yet. I've called for reinforcements from the 414th and 117th, but Padawan Tano is the only other Jedi here. She's not ready to face off against Tann.' Kellian responded.
'Then prepare her, you have my permission to do what's necessary, I'll notify Skywalker. Rest assured he'll be receiving a reprimand for leaving you with his Padawan.' Master Windu replied.
'Master, I do not believe that to be fair. I sent my own Padawan to Senator Amidala asking for Tallisibeth to receive training I'm senatorial Politics, diplomacy, and etiquette. Whatever his reasons, Skywalker is needed here. And truthfully I could sorely use Tallisibeth now. Her synergy with Tano is good, something I unfortunately lack. Which gives Tann something to exploit.' He responded.
'I'll see what I can do.' Says Windu.
'Thank you.' Kellian said.
''Mark my words Sev'rance Tann, you will pay for your transgressions.
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(POV Shift: Hallena Devis)
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Halllena had one choice, and one chance, and she took both.
Someone had shoved an outdated, poorly maintained, and very obsolete model of blaster rifle in her hands and pushed her along with the growing mob that now crowded the streets around the center of Athar. There was an undercurrent of steady noise, the hum of thousands of voices—not yelling or screaming, just talking.
All of the streets lighting was out, and the homes and shops and factories were shrouded in complete and utter darkness that was only broken by the exchange of blaster fire.
A red glow marked the heart of the city.
''Burn, you scum.'' Varti sounded almost conversational. He was looking toward the fire, a beatific smile on his face. ''It's been a long time coming. Right, brothers and sisters?''
A cheer went up again.
''Right! Yeah, it's payback time! Let's get these bastards!''
The angry Mob - no, actually mob was the wrong word. There was a solid sense of purpose and they were united. It was, at least for an armed crowd with no apparent plan, quite orderly. Nobody was looting. Nobody was setting fire to anything - except in the city center and the occasional enemy combatant. A collective decision had been made, like a flock of migrating birds deciding that the snow was coming early and it was long past time to move on.
If anything, it felt like a busy shopping mall in Coruscant on Republic Day, when the half-price bargains went on sale; crowded, a little harassed, but generally good-natured.
And yet, she could not forget that these people are armed. Not with credit chips— but with rifles. Rifles that should be melted down for scrap true, but riffles all the same.
And her job's to see that the Regent stays in power long enough to aid the Republic against the Separatists.
Hallena was alone, and there was nothing she could do now to stop a revolt. She'd failed her mission, and her only hope was trying to salvage it somehow..
No, actually she didn't fail. Intel didn't come through for them, and she was deployed far too late to be of any real worth. Her job right no was to reassess, to regroup, to look for another plan.
The only thing that could stop the riots was screaming along an elevated section of highway above the advancing mob, now thousands strong. It was a string of government armored vehicles; searchlights swung wildly from side to side. The convoy was heading for the bridge that led down into the factory quarter.
''Get the barricades up! Quickly!'' A voice yelled.
A column of fire rose into the air about a hundred meters away, not far from the munitions factory Hallena had spent the day cleaning. A deafening cheer went up. Something was burning. She didn't need to be trained to know what it likely was. She could guess what it was easily enough - a prearranged signal to set fire to barricades around the city - but the fact she didn't know, well suffice to say her sense of helplessness was overwhelming.
She caught Varti's arm. A little way ahead, she could see Merish and Shil walking steadily, a little space around them as if they were spearheading an advance even in the middle of this apparently leaderless mass. Mainly men, most in working coveralls, but some in relatively tidy suits, others in waterproof boots that suggested they'd come from a ship or a dockside factory.
''You going to tell me what's going on, Brother Varti?'' Hallena asked. ''I'm along for the ride, but I've been away for a bit. Someone draw me a picture.''
''We're overthrowing the Regent, the Guilds, and the Monarchy. We're burning down the Government House. And we're setting up a citizens' parliament.'' Someone replied.
Hallena's brain was trying to process a dozen questions at once. First where were the kriff the Athari intelligence agents she'd made contact with yesterday? If the Regent was thrown out of office, dangling from a rope somewhere in the glowing red heart of the city, should she now be trying to get the new regime on the Republic's side or should she attempt to make contact with the Guilds instead? Did the Separatist connection even matter anymore?
''How many times have we tried that before?'' She tried to remember her background briefing on JanFathal. Past revolts had been brutally put down and were followed by a martial law longer than the one before it, leading to trade disruptions, and countless sentient rights violations. ''And it never worked.''
''This time..'' Varti said. ''Things are going to be different.'' He was walking beside her at a steady pace, turning occasionally to glance at her. ''I really should remember you. I'm sorry. It's troubling me.''
''Not important now.'' She said. The comlink in her pocket shuddered silently. Either her Athari contact was trying to raise her, or Republic Intel was calling. Neither were calls she could safely take. ''What do you need me to do? Right now, I mean.''
''Get ready to fight…'' He said, nodding. ''You look like you know how to use that rifle. Where did you learn that?''
Of course; this wasn't Coruscant, and in a dictatorship like this, there'd be much tighter controls on who owned firearms, much less who got to train in them. No tyrant worth his weight in their currency wanted an angry armed mob lurking out there, much less an armed mob who was trained to use their armaments - although that seemed to be exactly what the Regent was facing now.
Ironic….
She was firearms-trained, and a qualified sharpshooter, able to handle most of the commonly used weapons available around the galaxy, the Special Operations Brigade's Mandalorion instructors having trained her and several over agents in hand-to-hand combat, explosives ordnance disposal, and field and combat medicine. Spook core skills: something—the one thing—she did almost without thinking.
Varti had spotted it.
''I like to be prepared.'' Hallena said cryptically. Who was to say she hadn't picked up bad habits in the jail she'd never been in, from bad guys she'd never met? Varti couldn't know. ''And I'm a fast learner.''
But she could feel the comlink shuddering in her pocket, its chime silenced. There were very few people who could reach her that way, and none of them were social. It can't be Gil. He never uses Intel links. It had to be her Athari intelligence contact or her controller. Either way, they weren't calling to see how she was.
Stang …
She had to check the message. She reached into her pocket casually and took out the comlink. The more furtive she looked, the more likely Varti was to ask questions. When she glanced down at the miniature screen, the comm ID was clear: Coruscant, her emergency controller, the being—she had no idea of their gender or species at any given time—who gave her instructions.
SEP SHIPS INBOUND TO YOUR LOCATION. STAND BY. IF UNABLE TO TALK, KEY 555.
Stand by? Okay. Fine.
She hit 555, trying to look as if she were stabbing in frustration at a nonoperational control panel. Were Republic warships inbound, too? Was there going to be some battle for control of JanFathal? She couldn't ask. She didn't dare comm back over voice links. She was - as any decent spy often was — completely on her own and without backup.
And the most immediate problem was staying alive because she could hear the armored convoy heading down the ramp, on an intercept course with the path of the mob.
"Too late to comm home.'' Varti said, slipping his rifle off its sling. ''We just blew the transmitter.''
A woman to the far side of Varti tried her comlink. ''Yes, the network's down.''
But not mine, brother …
''Right on time.'' Varti said.
''Nobody home anyway.'' Hallena said, keeping in character. ''No home to be in.''
Beams of white light stabbed at the night sky as the vehicles turned right and trained their searchlights on the road. She forgot about the fires raging beyond. All that mattered now was not dying when the security forces opened fire on the crowd.
They would. She had no illusions.
Stang, she would too if she were them.
No good guys and bad guys now, just folks trying to stay alive—confused, scared, reduced to instincts and reflexes.
She checked the charge on her rifle and knew she'd do what her own instincts told her; either those packed in front of her would be mown down, in which case she had a shield, or the crowd was in fact an army that had a plan.
In a few seconds, she'd know.
Yes, she was scared. Her gut was knotted. She found herself worrying in that flash-frame, end-of-life way about whether Gil would ever find out what happened to her, who would take the Khomri tapestry on her apartment wall, and if she would be buried or left to rot.
Everyone should face this, just once, just to know what truly matters in the end.
A volley of cannon fire ripped in a sheet above their heads. The crowd ahead of her parted like grain, everyone diving for the cover of buildings on either side of the road, and then they returned fire.
Hallena - still standing there like a stupid idiot — could see bodies flat on the pavement, picked out by the flaring light of weapons fire. The rectangular outlines of riot scoops on the front of the security vehicles that were rushing at her. The darkness and relative quiet of a few precious seconds before had erupted into white-hot light and the deafening bdapp-bdapp-bdapp of blasterfire, and the air tasted instantly of discharged blaster and scorched hair.
And here she was, standing in the middle of the road, wondering why everything was taking so long.
When the searchlight blinded her, she simply fired down its beam and rolled to one side. Or maybe she fell. She didn't know. She just felt her elbow crack hard on the pavement, and the pain seared through her body right to the roots of her teeth.
Someone grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away. Whatever happened, the arrival of a Separatist fleet was the very last of her problems.
--------------------------------
(POV Shift: Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker)
--------------------------------
Anakin awoke to the insistent chirping of his comlink and reached for it without opening his eyes. Padmé didn't stir.
''Skywalker.'' He said sleepily, idly noticing someone else had called him several times throughout the night.
''Sir, I need to brief you for your situational awareness.''
''Oh, Rex …''
''Bad time, sir?''
''No. Go ahead.''
''Leveler's diverted to the Fath system. There's Sep activity around there, and we're the only vessel close enough to keep tabs on it, General Ordo's ordered the Four Fourteenth and One hundred and seventeenth to join us, but you may want to join us yourself. I'll keep you updated.''
Rex was loyal; not just the professional, soldierly kind of loyal, but personally loyal. He knew what might happen if his general was caught being out of the loop—a loop he really should have been in. Anakin just hoped Rex didn't know why.
Does he, though? He thinks Rex would understand. Of the few beings he felt he owes an explanation about all this subterfuge, Rex would definitely be one of them.
''Good thinking, Rex.''
''Captain Pellaeon's warned Fleet, so you may well be asked questions about it.''
''I'll add diplomacy to your list of skills, Rex.''
''And you should be aware that the work-up has shaken out a few faults and that your Padawan is settling in with the new trooper intake, though she seems to be a little off with General Ordo.''
Anakin could have left it in Rex's hands, but the Force nagged at him. Something would go wrong. He knew it. And here he was, taking an illicit break, when his troops were facing potential action. It didn't matter that the rest of Torrent Company were in barracks. There were seven men on their own out there. And he was sitting on his backside.
''Rex, inform Captain Pellaeon and Kellian that I'll rendezvous with Leveler. Keep sending me position and intended movement, and I'll be there as soon as I can.''
''No need, sir.''
''Yes, there is. Skywalker out.''
Anakin was fully awake now. He went to the refresher, ran the water cold, and felt certain he was being tested by the Force for his dishonesty. Lying about his marriage was wrong on many levels; but leaving your men to fend for themselves—that was the worst. He'd sworn he'd never leave anyone to their fate again. He'd already left Rex behind once at Teth, and it was down to the man's own courage that he came out of that alive.
Nearly the whole kriffing company got killed. And he told Rex he'd come back for him.
And then there was his mother.
Anakin couldn't keep that nagging guilt out of his mind for long. Sometimes he tried to drown it with the logical argument that his old Master or even Yoda could have saved his mother from slavery. But her death was his own fault. He didn't go back for her, either, not until it was far too late.
Never again.
He would never again rely on others to do what he had a duty to do himself.
''Ani? Is there something wrong?''
Padmé was standing at the refresher door, hugging her bathrobe around her.
''I'm sorry, I've got to go.'' He said, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. ''Leveler might run into problems. Rex just commed me. Don't be mad at him—he didn't want me to be put on the spot if anything went wrong.''
Padmé didn't even look disappointed. That stung a little. He'd braced himself for at least halfhearted protests, but he knew deep down that Padmé wasn't that kind of wife. She was all about responsibility.
''No, I'm not mad at Rex.'' She said softly. ''Duty's harsh. He's looking out for you, too. I appreciate that dedication.''
She didn't even have to pack for him. A Jedi owned almost nothing, and what little he carried would fit in a small satchel. When he finished dressing, Padmé was waiting by the balcony doors with the bag in her hand.
''It's funny.'' She said slowly. ''I never ask what you're going to use for transport. You just say you're off to the Outer Rim, and I nod and say, yes dear, I'll see you when I can.''
''How did you know where I was going?''
''I'm a Senator. I have several ways of finding out where warships are.'' She draped the satchel's strap over his shoulder. ''And I wasn't asleep. Not after the comlink went off all night, anyway.''
Anakin grinned, but a little pang of uneasiness tweaked at his heart. The sensation was gone as soon as it started. He kissed her, slipped through the doors, and headed back to the hangar to persuade the ground crew to let him stroll off with a Torrent fighter.
If he needed to get to the Outer Rim fast, then he'd make sure he had some useful firepower, too. The Rim was an unstable, dangerous place, and if he got there before Kellian's men all the better.
Anakin rather liked it that way.
--------------------------------
(POV Shift: Hellena Devis)
--------------------------------
Hellena could hear a loud pounding in her head.
For a moment she thought it was inside her skull. But when she shook herself out of her stupor, she realized it was the rumbling sound of cannon fire in the distance, and that she was stretched out on a dirty permacrete floor with a coat bundled up under her head.
''No real damage, sister.'' Said Merish. ''Baton round. Hurts like hell, though.''
Yes, that it did. It was the first time that Hallena was aware she'd been hit by something. Every time she tried to move, her brain felt as if it was shearing away from the membranes that surrounded it.
The brain has no pain sensors. But, that didn't mean it hurt any less.
She raised her hands instinctively, trying to feel for the source of the throbbing pain. There was no dressing - hardly surprising under the circumstances. Eventually she found a tender lump under her hairline.
''They're firing whatever they can lay their dirty hands on." Shil said. ''Blasters, crowd-control weapons — that's what hit you.''
''I know what a baton round is, thanks. I could hear the guards use it on unruly prisoners In solitary after one insult too many.'' She replied, and based on the pained looks a few others showed at her words, they believed her.
''They weren't being nice and nonlethal, sister. They usually fire them point-blank so that they fracture the skull. You were just lucky.''
Hallena could hear the fighting going on outside, although it didn't sound close: blasters, yelling, ballistic rounds hitting walls. ''How long have I been here?''
''Couple of minutes, give or take.''
She'd imagined hours or even a day. ''Come on, then. Let's get on with it.''
''We stand a better chance outside anyway. If those barves start using flamethrowers—come on.'' Merish hauled her to her feet. ''The Seps are going to be landing their troops soon, so all we have to do is keep the security forces busy all over the city and make it easier for them.''
Hallena fought to focus on a plan beyond not getting hit in the head again. Everything she'd been sent here to do had gone out the window at high speed — it was beyond too late to worry about infiltrating the Sep sympathizers. She couldn't stop an invasion single-handedly, especially such abysmal support from the planetary government right out of the gate. But she could grab as much useful information as possible, and make sure that it reached Republic forces.
Now, what did she need to do?
It was just supposed to have been a straight recon job, to be the eyes and ears of the Republic on the ground. Yes, she could do that easily enough.
''Where are the Seps landing?'' She asked.
She started feeling her pockets, trying to give the impression she was looking for her blaster, but she was actually going for her comlink. If she set it to free-transmit, it would pick up every sound around her, and then all she had to do was make sure she asked the right questions at the right time to extract the answers that the Grand Army and the Republic Fleet would need.
The rifle that had been thrust into her hands earlier had vanished. Maybe it was still on the road outside. But her fingers settled on the comlink, fumbling for the controls, and she had to rely on touch and memory to hit the right sequence.
Hallena was transmitting now, and it was safely encrypted as far as she knew. But she couldn't risk getting confirmation yet that her message was being received.
''They're taking out the ground-based comms and the state guard barracks first.'' Shil handed her back her rifle. He'd retrieved it, then. ''They're taking the center of the city first and moving out from there. Not what I thought they'd do, but they're the experts.''
''Droids.'' Hallena said. ''Normally I'd only see a droid as something robbing an honest worker of a wage to buy food.'' Shil said. ''But I'd rather they fought wars than allowing flesh and blood do it.''
''So we just keep the security forces busy?''
Merish steered her toward the doors. ''The Regent's spent the last thirty years spending on palaces for himself, the Guilds and secret police to stop us from burning them down.'' She said with a hint of anger laced with subtle satisfaction. ''So he never quite got around to building an army that could actually deal with an invasion. It'll all be over pretty fast, the Royal Guard might cause a small problem, but it'll be over rather quickly.''
Shil put his hand under her elbow to steady her as she stumbled over the rubble in the street. She felt faintly disgusted with herself for double-crossing him; she didn't know much about him, but she knew he'd been through a terrible time that hadn't broken him, and here she was doing her best to finish the job while he was making sure she was okay.
It's a dirty job. But if she hadn't accepted that after all these years, then she's only lying to herself.
''You think we're going to be better off under the Seps, do you?'' She asked sourly.
''Can't be any worse, Orla.'' Said Merish tiredly.
The use of her assumed name threw her a little. ''I don't see any Sep landing ships.'' Hallena stared up into the night sky, seeing nothing but the reflection of fires on the low cloud. ''You sure they haven't betrayed us?''
''They'll be here.''
Is control getting this at all? Can they hear all this? As soon as she gets a moment to myself, she needs to check that they know where she is, what specific data they wanted from her.
''And if they lose?''
''They won't. But if there's any delay in kicking the state guard into the next system—we'll join the Sep forces and fight. They'
ll lose. Just a matter of now or later.''
The fighting had moved on. Shil, Merish, and Varti broke into a slow jog to catch up with the rear guard, giving Hallena the chance to keep pace. She didn't feel much like running. Her head throbbed every time her heel struck the ground; she wondered if she'd collapse and die later on. She'd been knocked out. Head injuries like that could take you down hours after you thought you were fine.
The sleeping poison, as it wad known amongst agents. Injuries that appeared healed or minor and later proved fatal.
Last of her worries right now. It really is.
Then her comlink chirped.
But she had shut off the sound. That's Control trying to ping her.
Hallena tried to ignore it, but even with the background noise of blaster fire and explosions, her companions stopped in their tracks to listen.
Shil grabbed his own comlink and stared at it.
''There's still no kriffing signal.'' He said slowly. ''Our militia took out the transmitter. So who are you in touch with, Sister Taman?''
Merish and Shil paused for a second, then lunged for her, pinning her arms. Hallena had seen it before; the frozen moment of revelation. They had a spy among them. She decided whether to fight - and almost certainly die — or play for time and wait for a chance to escape.
If they didn't kill her right here and now anyway.
Merish and Shil pushed her to her knees, rifles held to her head, while Varti took her blaster from her belt. Even if she hadn't been injured, she wouldn't have stood a chance.
Varti, seeming oblivious to the fighting nearby, stood looking down at her. ''You're the Regent's agent …''
That'll get me killed for sure. The truth might help for once.
''No, I'm with the Republic.'' She said, knowing the gamble she'd taken.
''You'll be useful, then. Our new Separatist allies will be pleased to meet you. Actually, let's do them the courtesy of calling them what they are—the Confederation of Independent Systems. I like that word.'' The old man held out his hand, palm up. ''Now give me the comlink.''
There was no abuse, no kicks, no anger. Hallena had been trained to expect the very worst treatment if she was captured. That was why agents were issued a fast-acting poison, a final act of mercy contained in a tiny pellet hidden in a metal container in her wallet in her pants. She was under no illusion that the restrained and professional treatment she was getting at the hands of these revolutionaries would continue. They'd all suffered too much.
And she knew what the Seps would do to her.
Funny, that she feels more at home with the revolution, even if they want to blow her head off. Control always warned her about that. Identifying with your target. An Occupational hazard.
''I never said you didn't have cause to hate the Regent.'' She said. ''But if the Seps win this war, you've got no idea how bad things will be.''
''But have you?''
No. Actually, no. She hasn't. Hallena hated things that made her want to stop and think at times like this.
''We'll see.'' She said with a hint of defiance.
''Shil, get her comlink.'' Merish ordered.
It was her last chance to send a distress signal. She had little guarantee of being rescued, but an agent was told to at least prepare for one. This way, she got to hold the comlink for long enough to try.
''Okay.'' She said. ''Here it is.''
She put her hand inside her coat with slow caution to make it clear she wasn't going for a concealed weapon. Professional as they seemed, Varti's rebels hadn't searched her. When she pulled out her hand—slowly, very slowly—the comlink sat in her palm, its yellow power light winking.
Hallena had one second left. She seized it.
As she handed the comlink to Varti, she hit the SEND button to relay an emergency message, a heartbeat before Shil brought his boot down hard on her hand, and on her hopes of getting off of JanFathal alive. The comlink skidded across the ground.
But she'd known the score when she signed up.
Gil, at least, would know that.
--------------------------------
(POV Shift: Captain Gilad Pellaeon)
--------------------------------
"Safeguard rule now in force. Repeat, Safeguard rule is now in force."
Pellaeon felt the change in mood throughout the ship. He didn't have to be a Jedi to sense the adrenaline pumping around him. For a while Leveler would carry on getting herself fully spaceworthy as planned, but the announcement on the ship's broadcast system marked the shift in status from work-up and exercises to a state of readiness to deal with real threats. If the Leveler was threatened, any pipe — any announcement — would be preceded by the word safeguard, repeated three times, so that everyone knew it wasn't a drill any longer.
Pellaeon was a stickler for the old tried-and-tested ways of the navy. If other captains wanted to mess around with high-tech verification systems, that was their business and their risk. He was still dealing for the most part with a human crew, and humans hadn't changed much in a very long time.
Padawan Tano watched him. He could feel her eyes fixed on him, and when he turned his head to look, she seemed mesmerized. It unnerved him. Rex wandered around the bridge, helmet in one hand, probes in the other, still trying to get his helmets HUD to talk to the ship's status system. He'd shaved his head again. Pellaeon would have to ask him why when the current tension had subsided.
''Sir.'' Said the ops room controller's voice. ''A freighter just dropped out of hyperspace.''
Pellaeon zeroed in on the transponder that was now tracking across the sensor repeater. At times like these, it made sense to assume all ships were potentially hostile until proven otherwise; a bogus transponder that would fool even Republic sensors wasn't hard to come by. And the technicians were still fixing glitches in the system.
Pellaeon tapped the controls by his right hand.
''Ops, can you ping the hull at this range and get a confirmation?''
''You don't need to, sir.'' Said Padawan Tano. ''The ship's full of Jedi. I can feel them.''
The ops room commander paused. ''Sir, it's a Vernal-class freighter, registered as Wookiee Gunner, and the Republic database identifies it as hired for disaster relief duties by …'' Pellaeon heard the tapping of keys. ''By Master Djinn Altis. Not the Jedi Council.''
Pellaeon turned and gave Ahsoka a smile. He couldn't bring himself to call her Commander, even if any Jedi officer who wasn't a general held the rank. Technically. But not in his navy. She was fourteen, for goodness' sake. He refused to play this game. The promotion board could add that to his list of failings: shows insufficient deference to child Padawans. That was fine by him.
''Good radar.'' Pellaeon said. ''So who's Master Altis?''
Ahsoka seemed to be racking her brain for an answer. She looked to one side, blinking.
''I'm not sure.'' She said. ''I've never heard of him. But … he's definitely strong in the Force. So are many of his companions.''
''There's no chance he's one of your Sith cousins, is he?''
''They're not our cousins. No, I can't sense any darkness at all. What do you know about Sith, anyway?''
Force-users were used to the general public knowing little about them, but Pellaeon made it his business to know as much as he could. And the Jedi couldn't silence the annals of galactic history nor claim a monopoly on its knowledge. It was just a place where few beings ever bothered to look.
''Just let me know if I need to blow him out of my space, that's all.''
''No. Not at all, Captain.'' Ahsoka still looked unsettled. Either there was something she could sense about the freighter that bothered her, or she was worried that she couldn't place Altis. ''Nothing amiss.''
''Not entirely accurate Ahsoka, Master Altis is…unorthodox. Anakin and him would have much in common. The Jedi Council does not officially condone Master Altis's teachings or beliefs, but they are hardly in a position to refuse him'' General Ordo said revealing his presence, and Pellaeon tries his best not to give away his growing fright at General Ordo's penchant for vanishing acts and surprise revelations.
Pellaeon went back to keeping an eye on the sensor screen. He could see more Separatist ships gathering around JanFathal now, and there was little Leveler could do about it except feed back the information until the Fleet decided whether it had ships to spare.
''Sir, the freighter's on an intercept course with us.'' Said the ops commander.
The ship might have been looking for sanctuary. That, at least, was something Pellaeon could offer.
''Comms, flash the ship's master.'' He said. ''I want to ask him what he's doing, and whether he knows he's got a Sep flotilla within ill-advised range …''
''Of course he knows.'' Ahsoka said, almost to herself. ''He's a Jedi.''
''But I'd bet he still uses sensors, my omniscient Padawan.'' Pellaeon switched his comlink through to the ship's circuit. ''Freighter Wookiee Gunner, this is the warship Leveler, please state your intended movement. You are standing into danger, repeat you are standing into danger, over.''
He waited. The voice that bounced back was informal and didn't follow Fleet comm procedure.
''Warship Leveler, this is Master Altis, Wookiee Gunner. We might require your help.''
''Master Altis, this is Captain Gilad Pellaeon. How may we assist you?''
''We picked up a distress call from a Republic agent on JanFathal, and as you and I seem to be the only Republic vessels within a reasonable response time, I think we should attempt to extract the agent before the Separatists invade.''
Pellaeon paused and switched the link to mute out of habit. ''Rumahn, why haven't we received that signal?''
''Nothing received, sir.'' Said the first officer. ''Channel sixteen is working fine.''
Pellaeon wondered whether a Jedi was likely to be tricked by a bogus message. He opened the link to Wookiee Gunner again.
''We haven't picked up a distress call, Master Altis. Before I commit my ship, I'd like to be sure I'm not walking into an ambush.''
''We sensed a disturbance in the Force long before we intercepted the signal, Captain, and we picked it up on a frequency we didn't expect. On a navigation channel that's rarely used.''
Pellaeon was trying to be patient. ''Oh, you travel out here a lot, then?''
''Yes—our community is constantly on the move, and I've spent more than forty years seeking knowledge in these distant places.''
Well, perhaps he knows something we don't … ''What did the message say?''
''We tried to make contact with the transmitting comlink, but we lost the connection shortly after. The agent thought she was transmitting to Republic Intelligence. We think her name is Orla Taman.''
The name meant nothing to Pellaeon. He figured that even Hallena wouldn't have recognized it; agents tended not to know what they didn't absolutely need to, as a security precaution.
''Wait one, Master Altis." Pellaeon turned to Rumahn. "Number One, get Rep Intel right away. Ask them to confirm Orla Taman, tell them why, and ask if she's operating out here.''
Rumahn withdrew to another comm station to make the call. There was no guarantee that Intel would even tell them who they had deployed where, but it was suicidal not to at least try to verify the message. If Intel played its usual foolish game of need-to-know, Pellaeon would have to make the call: to treat the transmission seriously and risk his crew, or to ignore it and perhaps leave an agent to die.
An agent just like his Hallena. If it were her in that position, wouldn't he want another ship to do what it could?
Rumahn walked back to Pellaeon's seat and leaned close to his ear. Ahsoka watched with the intense curiosity of a child who knew the grown-ups were having a private conversation; Rex took a couple of slow strides to stand between her and Pellaeon, presumably to distract her.
Good man, Rex.
''Sir.'' Rumahn said quietly. ''Intel thinks it's genuine. They've not received the signal, either, but they say Orla Taman is an operating alias for their agent who arrived in Athar on JanFathal a couple of days ago, as per the Special Operation Brigade's request. They say that if we're operationally capable, they'd appreciate our help with an extraction because we're a day or less closer now than any other ship.''
''Very well, let's Rendezvous with the Jedi ship, cross-check Altis and his key people here, and we'll get a plan going. Rex, are you up for this?''
Rex turned around. ''Well, you don't have any troops embarked other than us, so—yes, can do.''
''Excellent.'' Pellaeon said. ''We're not equipped for this at all, but I like a challenge. Good for morale when we pull it off.'' Good for that poor woman down there, too. ''Did they happen to give you her real name, Rumahn? I hope so. That way she'll know we are who we say we are.''
''Yes, sir.'' Rumahn looked at his 'pad. ''Hallena Devis.''
Pellaeon felt his heart stop. It was still pounding away, he knew that, but a strange raw sensation ran from the roof of his mouth into his chest, and it took all his self-control not to blurt out a curse.
Rumahn hadn't had a clue who Hallena was, of course. Pellaeon had at least been discreet about that. But Ahsoka whipped her head around to stare, no doubt able to sense his shock and fear. Rex, who seemed to use Ahsoka as a smoke detector, stopped fiddling with his helmet circuits.
He had to save her.
But he's too close to this.
And if he's going to ask men to risk their lives …
They had to be told. It was only fair.
''I need to declare an interest.'' Pellaeon said quietly. ''I don't want there to be any misunderstanding about why we're doing this. You need to know that Hallena Devis is … a friend of mine.'' He took a deep breath. ''A very good friend indeed.''
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(Author's Note:)
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I got three words to sum up this chapter.
Jesus…
Motherfucking…
Christ..
This took way too fucking long to get to my desired point of cut off and it contains far more content straight from the book than I care to admit. In fact of the percentage of non-tweaked content against my own stuff I'd hazard to say more than half the overall chapter was from the book. It's frustrating for me to acknowledge that, but at least that kind of statistic won't appear in the next chapter. It was so large and the word count was so high because it was the opening chapter in the arguably most important landmark chapter in the first volume of this story.
I did not expect more than twenty thousand words and we almost ended up hitting thirty thousand. I'll definitely be breaking subsequent chapters up after they hit a certain point following this chapter.
But this author's note isn't simply for me to rant and complain.
No, I've got important news. As of this Chapter, no more chapters for this story will be posted on P-atreon. I will be posting this exclusively on my Ko-Fi Page. I'm yet to finish the list of stories that will for the foreseeable future be exclusive to either Ko-Fi or P-atreon, but I figure it's a good idea to have one of two biggest stories on either side of the divide. In case you didn't already know, my Ko-Fi channel is to support my streaming on Twitch primarily. P-atreon is specifically for my stories, but Ko-Fi is a little of both.
In fact Ko-Fi is where I'll accept Twitch Donations.
I try to stream at least one or two days a week depending on what my days like. Primarily I stream on Wednesday and Saturday which for those of you who are north of the Equator will amount to a Tuesday and Friday at whatever time of the night or day it is. My Wednesday stream varies in what I'll stream, but for the most part my Saturday Stream is Star Wars The Old Republic (SWTOR). Time again varies, but it usually happens around the afternoon or late afternoon to pre-evening. I actually had to cancel my last stream just to finish this chapter so that was a little disappointing. Anyway, before I finish this part of my announcement, let me give you my channel name:
TheRagFromTheCragGaming.
My final bit of news isn't too big, but it's worth bringing up all the same. In the event I haven't posted the relevant chapters already, I can safely announce that I am officially beginning work on Pokemon: King of Kings again. Been too long and I want to get that going again, I'll also be working intermittently on Chapter 3 of MCU: Starborn. That's right, Chapter 2 of the latter is already done. Which means I've got work to do.
A heck of a lot of work to do at that.
See you guys at the next chapter whenever that ends up happening, this has been an exhausting chapter for more to be working on.