A further security measure that has been recommended by the Republic Signals Corps is the restriction of the use of all 'signal-splitter' devices to officers only, and to post additional physical security inside the communications areas of all Republic vessels in order to prevent serious protocol breaches as occurred during Incident 3F-KR55.
- Excerpt from "Incident Report 3F-KR55", Office of Republic Intelligence.
"I have…an incoming signal, Lieutenant. Priority One."
"Orders from Coruscant. Scoot across a little, cadets, I'd better show you our long-distance procedures."
Lerona and I stood up from our consoles in the communications booth to allow Squawk, our clone supervisor, access to the controls. So far, I was finding this shift a little smoother, and a combination of a decent night's sleep and a surprisingly good breakfast in the mess hall was making it easier to grasp the basics.
"You might not have seen one of these before." Squawk lifted the lid on a box mounted on the wall, and ran a hand over the machine underneath, a device which in my mind resembled a photocopier and a radio mixed together. "This is a signal splitter. Important standardised communications from across the Republic are transmitted along with what we call splitting keys. We're a long way away from Coruscant, and hyperspace is bound to introduce some interference into the system. So, the signal splitter applies the splitting key unique to the sender of the message – in this case, GAR Logistics Command – and the machine will do its best to filter out any interference that might have gotten into the message. Not that useful over short distances, but the further into the Outer Rim we get, the more reliant we are on it for accurate messages. Any questions?"
Lerona, being a capable student, had none, and I didn't dare ask any for fear of further exposing my ignorance, so Squawk returned to his station and ran the message through the signal splitter, and we resumed our monitoring of incoming and outgoing communication traffic. Before I sat down, I bent back my arms and cracked my knuckles, still feeling the burn from an intense physical training session after breakfast that morning.
As I sat down and adjusted my headset, I became aware of an orange light pulsing on my console. There it is again. This was only the third time I had been working the communications booth, but I was already seeing a pattern emerging. A quick glance at the bulky watch or 'chronometer' on my wrist confirmed it; another High Priority message for Jedi Master Pong Krell, right on queue. Same time, same sender…what could be so important?
I snuck a glance over my shoulder. Squawk was up from his desk, and Lerona was busying herself with a console on the far side of the room.
I felt nervous, of course. I'd felt nervous for the last three days straight, going from one totally alien situation to another without time to pause for breath – but this was different. If Krell had turned traitor already, I could make a major impact on what I knew about the future of the universe. On the other hand, making a mistake could prove fatal. I didn't know for sure why I had ended up here, in a fictional universe and a body that wasn't quite my own – but by this point, I had resolved that I had to at least try to put my knowledge of future events to good use. One of the first things that had come to mind when I had calmed down enough to realise where I had ended up was to simply blurt out everything I knew to the nearest authority figure, but after a little bit of thought I had decided that would be a highly risky strategy. Most likely, my ramblings about the entire Senate being controlled by a Sith Lord would get me thrown in some mental institution, or worse, Order 66 might be enacted the very next day, and I could wind up being gunned down by trigger-happy clones searching for dissidents.
A more careful approach was the only way forward, I had decided.
Krell is the key. Whoever…or whatever brought me here, with everything I know, has put me on this ship for a reason. If I can get some proof that Krell has turned against the Republic…then I could get in contact with the Jedi!
I took a deep breath, and selected the priority signal. Instantly, my headset was filled with a hiss of static, punctuated by a computerised voice speaking in halting Basic.
"08KT…S12…33'2'…09KT…S22…"
My datapad was hidden under the desk, and I clumsily tried to note down a few of the more distinctive sounding codes. There seemed to be a loose pattern to the numbers, and the voice was repeating them clearly over the background static. Despite the console not giving a broadcasting location for the signal, judging by the amount of interference it must be from somewhere decently far away. I thought of the manuals that were stored on my datapad – codes like these would surely be referred to somewhere within them.
"Sam, I need those…what are you…?"
"Lerona! I'm…just taking note of these comm codes…I've been looking for a good example to put in my notes…I don't find the ones in the textbook all that informative."
"Which ones?" Lerona squinted at my console screen as I hurriedly selected another broadcasting signal. My bunkmate looked around, then leaned in close and pushed the datapad down into my lap.
"Whatever…just don't let any of the others see you doing it. What was acceptable in your simulator back on Corellia may breach military protocol out here." Seeing Squawk approach, Lerona quickly straightened up and sat at her console, while I quickly tossed the device onto the thick matting underneath my chair.
"Sorry to interrupt, Cadets. Your commanding officer wants to see you both in his office…regarding a disciplinary matter."
"Would you care to explain what this device is, Cadet Gree? Another cadet in your dormitory heard it emitting a noise during the afternoon, and found it inside your unlocked locker."
Out of the corner of her eye, Lerona watched as Sam's normally pale face grew whiter, as Lieutenant Knour, the officer in charge of managing the cadet contingent aboard the Unity, held up a palm-sized electronic device, smaller than a datapad, and encased in a plastic sleeve.
"That…device? Well, it's…"
"I'll reiterate. Is it a personal device, a necessary piece of duty equipment, or something else entirely?" Slowly, the officer flicked through a document on his datapad, before indicating a specific line of text with his finger. "As stated in your code of practice document – one of the first training manuals you would have received during your time in the Academy – "no personal electronic effects are to be taken with Cadets on active rotation, and at no time are Cadets to be in possession of a personal communicator, with the exception of the standard-issue electronic chronometer which can only contact other personnel."
Sam made no attempt to reply, and simply hung his head in resignation.
"What about you, Cadet Kodd? Were you aware that Cadet Gree, your bunkmate, had this device in his possession?"
"No sir. I was not."
"You never saw him using it?"
"No."
Suddenly, Lerona heard the door to the office open behind them. Lieutenant Knour did a double take as someone entered the room, bolting upright from his seat and hurrying around behind the cadets.
"Sir…Lieutenant Knour, 193rd Naval Training Detachment. I understand that you wanted to sit in on a few administrative cases today, General?"
The voice that answered him was a familiar booming baritone that Lerona instantly recognised.
"Thank you, Lieutenant, I have been fully briefed on you and the case you are currently deliberating over. These are the pair, correct?"
General Krell!
"Yes General. Cadet Gree…he seems to accept he was at fault for bringing the contraband aboard, while Cadet Kodd claims she had no knowledge of the device."
For a moment, the two cadets stood silently at attention as Krell paced up and down behind them. When he spoke, it was in a guttural growl that made the hair on the back of Lerona's neck stand on end.
"Every second spent deliberating on this issue is time wasted elsewhere, Lieutenant." Krell paused as he passed in front of Sam, and he frowned. "I've heard enough. Your verdict?"
"I'm not sure yet, General Krell."
"Very well, I will hasten the process. Issue demerit points, Lieutenant." Krell said. "For both of them."
Lerona's heart leapt. What…he can't do that!
"Sir, I-"
"Unit cohesion, Cadet Kodd. It should have been you who corrected your fellow cadet on his behaviour, and you will be punished for it accordingly. Inattention is no excuse, and there are to be no exceptions, certainly not this close to your graduation."
For the next few minutes, Lerona was forced to remain standing rigidly at attention as Krell moved to the office next door, and the Lieutenant filled out an incident report form before issuing Sam with a token for punishment duty and dismissing them. Almost as soon as the door had closed behind them, Sam began to talk. Whether it was a complaint, an exclamation of grief, or maybe even a sincere apology, Lerona didn't care, as she cut him off by shoving him back against the wall of the corridor. Then, before he even had time to look more surprised than usual, Lerona Kodd put her face within centimetres of Sam's, and began to yell.
"Look, Lerona…I know that-"
"Do you think this is some kind of joke? This isn't first year, this is graduation! They're watching our every move, and you think it's a good idea to bring a communicator on board? I've heard that General Krell's had clone troopers shot for security breaches less than that. And he even gives us both demerit points! Those are permanent!"
Sam shrank back against the wall as several cadets who were walking past stopped and stared. Lerona ignored them.
"I'm done covering for you. You want to act like an idiot who doesn't know his left hand from a kriffing procedure manual, go right ahead. The instructors can smell weakness a mile off, and they'll have you out of here a soon as you slip up again. I'm still your bunkmate, and I'm still working the evening shift with you – but outside that, you're on your own. Have fun with punishment duty."
Turning sharply on one heel, Lerona Kodd disappeared into the throng of personnel passing by, leaving behind a small circle of confused onlookers, with one shell-shocked cadet still slumped against the wall.
