Disclaimer: Most of the characters featured are the property of G. Lucas.
No copyright infringement intended. I am NOT making any money with this.
ONLY TO BE ARCHIVED AT FANFICTION.NET
Timeline: Post- Vision of the Future, replacing Union
To M. For feedback, excellent company, fellowship in SW-madness and fun around the clock ;=) (Especially behind the wheel - I sure would like to see you with an X-wing!)
SPOILER ALERT: Planet of Twilight, Showdown at Centrepoint, Specter of The Past, Vision of The Future, Vector Prime as well as some later New Jedi Orders. (And naturally the Thrawn trilogy, how can anyone possibly avoid that? ;=)
WARPED UNIVERSE ALERT: For the sake of storytelling, Isard's not dead at all. Condolenses to those who get stomach cramps from the woman. I know what you're going through. Just thank the stars of Alderaan I didn't bring Callista back.
Star Wars: The Rising By Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi)
In the Jedi praxeum reading room, Amarice Rieekan stretched her arms across the datascreen table, and glanced briefly at the gold-coloured droid who was inspecting a shelf of electrobooks, his metallic back bent in what seemed an agonizing position. On the other hand, Threepio was a droid so it probably wasn't much of a pain. He did complain, though.
Amarice cursed the old navisystem as it was taking at least fifteen standard minutes processing her request from the databank.
She felt so useless. All Coruscant was worked up with news of an Imperial fleet gathering in the Meridian Sector, and the issue of the Jedi no longer was of interest to most politicians. The Senate hadn't quite reacted as she'd expected - they'd taken in the news of Captain Mara Jade's possible past quite calmly.
All Council meetings now centred around the possible armed conflict. A blessing in disguise. It probably meant that Amarice's duties to the Senate were over, so it probably didn't hurt digging up some information for fun.
Had Ceela and Athenos still been on Coruscant instead of Yavin IV she could've spent the long evenings by lightsabre practice or whatever other pastime in good company, but it was lonely being the almost oldest student at the academy.
The datascreen beeped as the files she'd ordered appeared on the screen. She clicked on one, and the personal Government file of Senator Mendya Gann flicked into sight. It was surprising where the Jedi had access to. Highly restricted files were barred, of course, but Amarice had no doubt that Master Skywalker would had access to those as well.
Her bored state of mind soon changed as she began to read the file.
This was no light bedtime reading. Amarice had to read again for she thought her eyes were lying. Why hadn't anyone noticed this before?
Senator Mendya Gann had not visited Corellia once since her appointing. This was no wonder, she'd only held her chair for six months. But what was alarming was that the ship registered in her name as her foremost means of transport had never been logged anywhere near the Corellian system.
Ship logs were public information, and many voters wished to know the level of activeness their forevoted Senators showed in visiting their home systems.
Amarice clicked at another file. She'd been wondering why there were so many. Often old files came out as well as new ones - Master Skywalker did not consider the updating and upkeep of their computer system as vital as he considered their Force teachings to be.
This was what had happened again. The next file had came on screen was the same file, only a newer version, with the same ship registered in the Senator's name but this time it had been cruising around Corellia more often than once a month. Even a few days back.
It had to be a mistake - its last trip had been recorded right when she'd been accompanying the Senator at a meeting of the Board of Industry. According to the log the Senator had been aboard the ship.
"Threepio?" Amarice shouted, and the droid walked up to her.
"Yes, Master Rieekan?"
"How do you check the source of a file?"
The droid melted into excuses. "Oh, I do wish Artoo were here, I was never any good with this sort of thing, I'm afraid I am not sure of my memory's correctness in the matter - -"
"Just tell me," Amarice hurried.
"I believe -" the droid begun, and if he'd been human he'd probably have ran his fingers through his hair, "The command is src, Master."
"Thankyou, Threepio." She replied, and keyed in the command. The screen whirred, and soon a subfile appeared, stating that the file had been sent to the central computer from Bastion.
It took awhile for the surprise to sink in. Bastion?! Wasn't that an Imperial outpost?
Amarice quickly checked the source of the older file. It passed the test - created right in the Central Computer of the NRI.
"Can this be filed into a datacard?" she asked Threepio. The procedure was barely ready when she grabbed the stack of cards and began to ran.
Mara closed her eyes. Here goes nothing. She stretched out to the Force, getting a feel of her surroundings, distracted by a fraction by the fear that someone would find her sitting on the Intelligence Headquarters lawn in broad daylight.
The heap of dark blue robes began to move on the ground. Mara braced her concentration. Soon the robes stood on their own as if carried by a person. She sent the peculiar apparition experimentally flowing forward. It looked like a Jedi alright. She just hoped noone would want to take a closer look.
She stood up, and made sure her attention was divided evenly between the robes and her lightsabre concealed inside the right sleeve. Then she began.
Visualizing the front doors of the building, just around the corner, she began levitating the robes. Gaining speed, she namde the heap take the corner at a cutting speed, and then levitate up the front steps.
When it reached the automatic doors, and they opened, Mara used the Force to protrude the lightsabre from the sleeve of the robes, and to ignite it.
Mara almost jumped as he felt the presence of two guards, from whom only took a split parsek to open fire on the empty robes. She flung her decoy with its sabre quickly into the entrance hall of the fortress-like headquarters and sprinted around the corner, just in time to see the guards shouting for reinforcements, running after the still-airborne robes carrying a lightsabre.
She ran into the building after them, and before they even noticed her, she'd blasted their lights out. Luke would've used the stun setting, but in Bastion Mara refused to take any chances.
Even less so with any possible reinforcements. She could already hear footsteps. Mara leapt over the bodies to her forlorn robes, grabbed her lightsabre, and took a quick look around. There were two options. Right or left.
What's in a name, she thought and headed right.
She didn't stop until she reached a pair of elevator doors. Behind her she could head the main doors closing, eletronic latching clicking as they were isolating the building, aware of an intruder.
Mara entered an elevator, pressed six - the highest possible floor - to gain some time to catch her breath, reading the datascreen of the elevator. Archives were still housed in the sixth floor, Mara noticed, thanking her lucky stars. She wouldn't have to ride around with the elevator any more than she needed to, which would decrease her chances of being found.
Blaster trained, she exited the elevator. The sixth floor lobby was as empty as the hangars had been, which raised Mara's suspicions. Were Solo and Calrissian still on the planet or had they gotten caught in the Empire's sudden exit from one of their main strongholds?
Mara shook her head. She had no time for this. Taking no chances, she even checked the restrooms to make sure the floor was empty. It was indeed, and Mara spared no thoughts to the levels below her. They were probably still well-manned. The Intelligence Headquarters never sleeped, major battle or retreat in practice or not.
Mara wondered about the easy with what she had gotten herself into the building. Maybe there truly was something bigger going on like she had anticipated.
No time for this either. She snuck into a room full of filing cabinets. No, nothing had changed much. As most comps could be sliced into, the most important of files were always maintained in single datacards.
She didn't have to turn the room upside down. The old filing system was logical, and the files still in order. Empty city or not, noone would've likely missed these files anyway. Mara relaxed a bit, aware of the fact that she didn't have a lot of time before the guards would've turned the building upside down.
She reached an unmarked cabinet. The Emperor's personal files, most likely. Thrawn had gathered them and sent copies to most Imperial bases as the old classifications hardly counted anymore. But as Mara's file would be of little significance after she took off after Endor, she had a hunched they only existed as originals, and as far as she knew the originals were kept in Bastion. And if she knew Isard any, the woman wanted everything under her roof.
Mara pulled out a drawer, and pulled out an odd datacard. Now came the critical point. The files were encrypted, and Mara was uncertain whether her old codes would work. She punched in the most likely, and the gibberish melted into words. Benefits of being an ex-Imperial agent.
Decoding every tenth file, she finally found what she was looking for. Hesitation crept in. Did she want to know?
He wasn't her father. Someone else was. And if it didn't matter to her it obviously did to a horde of Senators.
Mara punched in the code and began reading, hands trembling.
Her emotions finally took over as she reached the words she had been looking for, in black and white.
Solo had been right all along. Corellian. She was Corellian.
His father's name had been Orten Jade, and her mother had been Aycia Duny. They had both died during the Clone Wars.
Her mind was stuck in the repetition of this information, tears trickling down as she was finally set face to face with her origins, Mara failed to notice approaching footsteps.
She also never even noticed the six blasters trained at her head before she was hit with a stun blast.
************************************************'
Thank you for reading. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
Heidi Ahlmen siirma6@surfeu.fi
ONLY TO BE ARCHIVED AT FANFICTION.NET
Timeline: Post- Vision of the Future, replacing Union
To M. For feedback, excellent company, fellowship in SW-madness and fun around the clock ;=) (Especially behind the wheel - I sure would like to see you with an X-wing!)
SPOILER ALERT: Planet of Twilight, Showdown at Centrepoint, Specter of The Past, Vision of The Future, Vector Prime as well as some later New Jedi Orders. (And naturally the Thrawn trilogy, how can anyone possibly avoid that? ;=)
WARPED UNIVERSE ALERT: For the sake of storytelling, Isard's not dead at all. Condolenses to those who get stomach cramps from the woman. I know what you're going through. Just thank the stars of Alderaan I didn't bring Callista back.
Star Wars: The Rising By Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi)
In the Jedi praxeum reading room, Amarice Rieekan stretched her arms across the datascreen table, and glanced briefly at the gold-coloured droid who was inspecting a shelf of electrobooks, his metallic back bent in what seemed an agonizing position. On the other hand, Threepio was a droid so it probably wasn't much of a pain. He did complain, though.
Amarice cursed the old navisystem as it was taking at least fifteen standard minutes processing her request from the databank.
She felt so useless. All Coruscant was worked up with news of an Imperial fleet gathering in the Meridian Sector, and the issue of the Jedi no longer was of interest to most politicians. The Senate hadn't quite reacted as she'd expected - they'd taken in the news of Captain Mara Jade's possible past quite calmly.
All Council meetings now centred around the possible armed conflict. A blessing in disguise. It probably meant that Amarice's duties to the Senate were over, so it probably didn't hurt digging up some information for fun.
Had Ceela and Athenos still been on Coruscant instead of Yavin IV she could've spent the long evenings by lightsabre practice or whatever other pastime in good company, but it was lonely being the almost oldest student at the academy.
The datascreen beeped as the files she'd ordered appeared on the screen. She clicked on one, and the personal Government file of Senator Mendya Gann flicked into sight. It was surprising where the Jedi had access to. Highly restricted files were barred, of course, but Amarice had no doubt that Master Skywalker would had access to those as well.
Her bored state of mind soon changed as she began to read the file.
This was no light bedtime reading. Amarice had to read again for she thought her eyes were lying. Why hadn't anyone noticed this before?
Senator Mendya Gann had not visited Corellia once since her appointing. This was no wonder, she'd only held her chair for six months. But what was alarming was that the ship registered in her name as her foremost means of transport had never been logged anywhere near the Corellian system.
Ship logs were public information, and many voters wished to know the level of activeness their forevoted Senators showed in visiting their home systems.
Amarice clicked at another file. She'd been wondering why there were so many. Often old files came out as well as new ones - Master Skywalker did not consider the updating and upkeep of their computer system as vital as he considered their Force teachings to be.
This was what had happened again. The next file had came on screen was the same file, only a newer version, with the same ship registered in the Senator's name but this time it had been cruising around Corellia more often than once a month. Even a few days back.
It had to be a mistake - its last trip had been recorded right when she'd been accompanying the Senator at a meeting of the Board of Industry. According to the log the Senator had been aboard the ship.
"Threepio?" Amarice shouted, and the droid walked up to her.
"Yes, Master Rieekan?"
"How do you check the source of a file?"
The droid melted into excuses. "Oh, I do wish Artoo were here, I was never any good with this sort of thing, I'm afraid I am not sure of my memory's correctness in the matter - -"
"Just tell me," Amarice hurried.
"I believe -" the droid begun, and if he'd been human he'd probably have ran his fingers through his hair, "The command is src, Master."
"Thankyou, Threepio." She replied, and keyed in the command. The screen whirred, and soon a subfile appeared, stating that the file had been sent to the central computer from Bastion.
It took awhile for the surprise to sink in. Bastion?! Wasn't that an Imperial outpost?
Amarice quickly checked the source of the older file. It passed the test - created right in the Central Computer of the NRI.
"Can this be filed into a datacard?" she asked Threepio. The procedure was barely ready when she grabbed the stack of cards and began to ran.
Mara closed her eyes. Here goes nothing. She stretched out to the Force, getting a feel of her surroundings, distracted by a fraction by the fear that someone would find her sitting on the Intelligence Headquarters lawn in broad daylight.
The heap of dark blue robes began to move on the ground. Mara braced her concentration. Soon the robes stood on their own as if carried by a person. She sent the peculiar apparition experimentally flowing forward. It looked like a Jedi alright. She just hoped noone would want to take a closer look.
She stood up, and made sure her attention was divided evenly between the robes and her lightsabre concealed inside the right sleeve. Then she began.
Visualizing the front doors of the building, just around the corner, she began levitating the robes. Gaining speed, she namde the heap take the corner at a cutting speed, and then levitate up the front steps.
When it reached the automatic doors, and they opened, Mara used the Force to protrude the lightsabre from the sleeve of the robes, and to ignite it.
Mara almost jumped as he felt the presence of two guards, from whom only took a split parsek to open fire on the empty robes. She flung her decoy with its sabre quickly into the entrance hall of the fortress-like headquarters and sprinted around the corner, just in time to see the guards shouting for reinforcements, running after the still-airborne robes carrying a lightsabre.
She ran into the building after them, and before they even noticed her, she'd blasted their lights out. Luke would've used the stun setting, but in Bastion Mara refused to take any chances.
Even less so with any possible reinforcements. She could already hear footsteps. Mara leapt over the bodies to her forlorn robes, grabbed her lightsabre, and took a quick look around. There were two options. Right or left.
What's in a name, she thought and headed right.
She didn't stop until she reached a pair of elevator doors. Behind her she could head the main doors closing, eletronic latching clicking as they were isolating the building, aware of an intruder.
Mara entered an elevator, pressed six - the highest possible floor - to gain some time to catch her breath, reading the datascreen of the elevator. Archives were still housed in the sixth floor, Mara noticed, thanking her lucky stars. She wouldn't have to ride around with the elevator any more than she needed to, which would decrease her chances of being found.
Blaster trained, she exited the elevator. The sixth floor lobby was as empty as the hangars had been, which raised Mara's suspicions. Were Solo and Calrissian still on the planet or had they gotten caught in the Empire's sudden exit from one of their main strongholds?
Mara shook her head. She had no time for this. Taking no chances, she even checked the restrooms to make sure the floor was empty. It was indeed, and Mara spared no thoughts to the levels below her. They were probably still well-manned. The Intelligence Headquarters never sleeped, major battle or retreat in practice or not.
Mara wondered about the easy with what she had gotten herself into the building. Maybe there truly was something bigger going on like she had anticipated.
No time for this either. She snuck into a room full of filing cabinets. No, nothing had changed much. As most comps could be sliced into, the most important of files were always maintained in single datacards.
She didn't have to turn the room upside down. The old filing system was logical, and the files still in order. Empty city or not, noone would've likely missed these files anyway. Mara relaxed a bit, aware of the fact that she didn't have a lot of time before the guards would've turned the building upside down.
She reached an unmarked cabinet. The Emperor's personal files, most likely. Thrawn had gathered them and sent copies to most Imperial bases as the old classifications hardly counted anymore. But as Mara's file would be of little significance after she took off after Endor, she had a hunched they only existed as originals, and as far as she knew the originals were kept in Bastion. And if she knew Isard any, the woman wanted everything under her roof.
Mara pulled out a drawer, and pulled out an odd datacard. Now came the critical point. The files were encrypted, and Mara was uncertain whether her old codes would work. She punched in the most likely, and the gibberish melted into words. Benefits of being an ex-Imperial agent.
Decoding every tenth file, she finally found what she was looking for. Hesitation crept in. Did she want to know?
He wasn't her father. Someone else was. And if it didn't matter to her it obviously did to a horde of Senators.
Mara punched in the code and began reading, hands trembling.
Her emotions finally took over as she reached the words she had been looking for, in black and white.
Solo had been right all along. Corellian. She was Corellian.
His father's name had been Orten Jade, and her mother had been Aycia Duny. They had both died during the Clone Wars.
Her mind was stuck in the repetition of this information, tears trickling down as she was finally set face to face with her origins, Mara failed to notice approaching footsteps.
She also never even noticed the six blasters trained at her head before she was hit with a stun blast.
************************************************'
Thank you for reading. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
Heidi Ahlmen siirma6@surfeu.fi