Star Wars Infinities: The Master

Chapter 3

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by LucasFilm Ltd. They are used here without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"A credit for your ponderings, Master Durron," Quinlan Vos said as the two master Jedi sat in the back of their private transport. They were heading to the Jedi Temple; a building erected where the pod-racing arena Anakin Skywalker had made famous once stood. Pod racing, by a majority vote of the Tatooine legislature, was now illegal on the former desert world.

"I was thinking about how much the galaxy has changed and how little it has at the same time," the younger man said. Quinlan wondered what old Master Ovos would have thought of his favorite student now? Ferrin certainly was no longer the Padawan who couldn't seem to get it right anymore. Instead, Quinlan realized, Ferrin represented what the Order should have been decades before: peaceful warriors desiring no conflict, but now willing to shy away from it.

Quinlan had spent some time researching the Sith; he supposed all Jedi did in their early training. Who could not resist the curiosity of looking into the philosophical mirror? Many of the texts were banned from use for Padawans, but Quinlan had always been the resourceful student. After he had read the texts, his mind had been filled with questions and it was only after he had touched the Dark Side as a Jedi Knight had he really begun to understand.

The differences between the Jedi and Sith were subtle, not at all blatant, as Master Yoda had tried to teach. In the case of Ferrin and Kyp, the instruction was something akin to "be quick to react, strike true and make your intention clear". It was a paraphrasing of lightsaber training guidelines, in use by the Jedi for thousands of years.

In a tome of the Krath, an ancient Sith order, the phrase had read, "be quick to act, strike true and make your intention clear". The difference was that Jedi reacted to threats while the Sith made them. Over the years, as the Jedi had tried to distance themselves from the Sith, the lessons became mired in political correctness until you could not draw your blade until the threat was in front of you. Quinlan believed that Ferrin and his son represented a return to the ways of the original Jedi. They did not wait for the threat to smack you in the face. "I would have hoped that our sacrifices over the years would have bought us some grace with the people," Ferrin said. "Surely they realize we had no malice in mind in the old days…"

"Is it right to say you will protect the galaxy and then allow yourself to become complacent…arrogant?" Quinlan countered. "I have pondered the very same question for many years," he remarked as he kept his hands inside his robe sleeves. Ferrin could not see how he was grasping his left arm to hold it steady. The trembling was become worse each day and only through the Force was he able to keep the pain at bay. "Master Yoda was perhaps in control of the Jedi Council for far too long. The Council no longer expressed a composite view, but merely acquiescence to Yoda's."

"You talk like he was a criminal," Ferrin said with disgust. Though he had thought Master Yoda harsh, he had always held the Jedi Master in the highest regard.

"No, I merely point out that perhaps the cause of peace and order would have better been served if there had been term limits placed upon Council membership. How would the Council have benefited had we listened to views we did not necessarily agree with?" Quinlan closed his eyes and thought back to the days of the Old Republic. "Would Dooku have joined with Palpatine if we had entertained his views on Jedi and politics? How bad could it have been to have Qui-Gon Jinn on the Council?"

"I was only a Padawan at the time…"

"And if things had not gotten so bad, most likely the same members would be on the Council still!" Quinlan squeezed a little harder; when his blood pressure increased, so did the quaking. He paused for a moment and reached out into the Force to try and get a read on his friend. Simple posturing from politicians was not normally enough to get Ferrin's ire up.

"You have something else on your mind; it is causing a disturbance in the Force," Quinlan told him.

Ferrin pulled on his ceremonial brown robe (his green and gold flight suit was on underneath) and nodded his head. "I have been having visions, but I fear I cannot sort them out."

"The Skywalker legacy?"

Ferrin looked at Quinlan with mild shock. "Have you been having the same visions?"

Quinlan shook his head. "Most likely we both peer into possible futures. There is a taint on the Skywalker line, a sadness passed down from mother to son to daughter."

"Skywalker has a son as well," Ferrin reminded him. "Luke Skywalker is the Dark Apprentice and a very real threat to not only the New Republic, but especially to Leia. I can hear him sometimes, calling out in the Force to her. He's obsessed."

"She is the female version of himself and she stole his mother away in his eyes. His anger and rage will not abate with time. He must come to terms with his feelings," Quinlan lectured.

"Ha! I have a better chance of sleeping with a Hutt brood queen," Ferrin remarked as the speeder reached the outskirts of the city and doubled its speed.

"My, being outside the galaxy has changed your views…"

Ferrin laughed at the joke, but soon returned to the subject of his visions. "The next Skywalker will be a child of doom. It will bring such great pain with it. It could tear apart the Order."

"Maybe it is meant to," Quinlan told him. "I have thought much about the prophecy that Qui-Gon claimed Anakin Skywalker fulfilled."

"The one who would bring balance to the Force?" Ferrin asked.

"Yes. We always assumed that it was Anakin, but what if he were simply the catalyst? And for that matter, how do we know balance to the Force does not mean getting rid of the Sith and the Jedi all together?" Quinlan let it sink in and Ferrin turned away.

It was simply too horrible to comprehend.

"Moff Daala, the Precentor is dead," an aide announced at the doorway into the meeting room.

Daala, a woman still young enough to be beautiful and old enough to know how to use it, looked up from the flimsy she was reading and nodded. She then addressed the assembled admirals and generals. "About damn time," she said with a smile.

The men around the table laughed and relaxed, wondering if perhaps Daala's attitude over the past year had all been a ruse to root out those who were not loyal to Tarkin. She dismissed the aide with an order to get her speechwriter to work on her announcement to the Confederacy. As the door slid shut, two white-armored stormtroopers moved to a guarding position in front of it.

"I guess this means you will be the new Prefect?" a general asked, a lustful look in his eyes. She returned the smile, but had no intention of coupling with that pig! She was secure in her position because of her ambition, not because of her sexual abilities. She had been Tarkin's lover and then became his second wife, but she had once harbored real feelings for the man. That had been before the insanity had started to set in.

It was ironic that Tarkin's greatest achievement was to be overshadowed by his own ill health. Not a young man when he rebelled against the Emperor, he had fallen ill not six months after establishing the Tarkin Confederacy. A high fever had done something to his mind and slowly paranoia had set in. It was the only reason why the Death Star had remained in orbit over a rebelling Corellia. Tarkin had simply been too afraid to risk his battle station out of fear of some secret Imperial weapon Palpatine had developed without his knowledge.

"I will be dispensing with the title and will simply be known as Grand Moff Daala," she replied. After all, with Tarkin's treason, the title had been officially banned in the New Order and therefore would be most welcome in the Confederacy.

There were nods around the table and the military men waited for Daala's commands. She relished the moment briefly, realizing that as a woman, she had reached a position that would have been impossible in the New Order. As a young cadet, she had excelled in all of her military studies, reaching the top of her class. Because of the gender of her birth, all of the accolades of her achievements would be nothing. Had it not been for a single twist of fate, she would have ended up a meager supply officer on some backwater world, servicing stormtroopers at night.

The twist of fate had been Tarkin. After her graduation, she had come to his attention for some original work she had done on computer simulations. Tarkin made her his official assistant and then took her as his lover. Under the special covenants granted him by the Emperor, he had promoted her to admiral and placed in charge of the strike force meant to guard the Maw Installation.

Tarkin had discovered the Rebel plot to attack and commandeer the second Death Star being constructed at Endor and sent Daala there to head off the attack. Her victory was sweet indeed; something that always brought a smile to her face when she thought about it.

Under her direction, her fleet of four star destroyers defeated not only a Rebel fleet, but also destroyed the second Death Star, thereby preventing the new Emperor the ability to assault Tarkin's own installation. As soon as the Confederacy was established, Tarkin divorced his first wife and took Daala as his own. His hope had been to produce a worthy heir to his legacy, but sadly, fate intervened and Tarkin slipped into madness even as Daala slipped into command.

Over the past five years, she had selectively gotten rid of any potential rivals by using her deteriorating husband to order their execution. She would not grieve, however; the man she had loved had long since gone she reminded herself and all that died today was a useless shell.

Her private aide, a young officer with sparkling eyes leaned next to her and whispered something. Daala nodded and instructed him to turn on the map of the galaxy. "Captain Katarn had brought us some very intriguing information that was originally presented to me two weeks ago."

The galaxy map rotated and shifted before zooming in on a blue planet. The name of the world, Mon Calamari, was in red letters, indicating that it was a world loyal to the New Order. There were also several other numbers and glyphs that told various details such as suspected garrison strength and other resources. A smaller window opened up as well revealing the familiar shape of a Correllian Assassin-Class corvette.

That particular model of vessel had been produced in very high numbers just prior to the start of the civil war and most of them currently remained in the AFNO. Because of the troubles with rebellious factions on Corellia, the Confederacy was not getting the number of ships it desperately needed to maintain a proper defense against the New Order. Only the Death Star saved them from being consumed.

Captain Katarn rubbed at his beard and started to walk around the table. "As all of you are aware, our beloved Prefect was a tactical genius. He secured for us the world of Kuat and the world of Corellia, two planets renown through the galaxy for their shipbuilding expertise. In fact, these are the only two worlds in the Confederacy that we can build capital ships at."

Several naval commanders and admirals nodded and grunted their disapproval. There had actually been many more worlds with smaller shipyards and even ground force training facilities, but the civil war had been particularly bloody towards technology. The navy was starting to suffer, as there were not enough places to refit or repair vessels. "The New Order maintains major shipyards at Yaga Minor and Mon Calamari. They also purchase extensive arms from Seinar, but that groups has moved all of their operations into the Corporate Sector."

"Which has three hundred Victory-class star destroyers in their navy," a young admiral pointed out. "They gouge us like roasted swine at a feat, making us give twice the credits for cheap products! Of they did not have that fleet…"

"But they do have their fleet, just as the Hapans have their fleet and the New Republic has fleets," Daala told them in a smooth voice. Her tone was as alluring as her physical presences. "Complaining will not get us anywhere. Please, Captain, go ahead."

Katarn smiled and gave a small bow. "As I was stating, we all know that the New Order maintains a large fleet at Mon Calamari. Ships such as this picket the outer defenses. Our probes monitored this vessel, the Rotted Corpse for two standard months. We were able to monitor their entire patrol during that time."

"So Thrawn has patrols out, so do we," a general chimed in.

"The Rotted Corpse had a 0.00001 deviation from its course. This suggests that the vessel is on autopilot," Katarn stated, ignoring the general. "However, most curiously, the ship never resupplied the entire time it was on patrol."

"So?" the general asked.

The admiral next to him shook his head. "Idiot! A ship that small can only go maybe 45 days without having to stock up on consumables. The crew have to eat, repair part shave to be brought on board and if they follow standard Imperial procedure, they might even rotate out TIE fighter crews."

"So?" the general asked again. Daala made a mental note to have that particular officer shot after the meeting. He had seemed so promising at one time!

Katarn stopped and pointed at the ship's image. "That, general, is a ship being run by either a droid brain or a droid crew."

Before the general could make another comment the admiral next to him answered his question. "It means there is a problem. Is there any sign of the rest of their fleet?"

The map shifted as Katarn pushed a button on the table. The map showed the main shipyards of the planet with several yellow dots. The dots were meant to represent vessels of capital class. "Long range probes show a fleet relative to the size of Thrawn's personal task force."

"Did we send in anything to get a closer look?" another navy man asked.

Katarn nodded. "We equipped a TIE Interceptor with an experimental cloaking device and sent it in. It was able to get a visual identification, but the device later exploded, destroying the Interceptor. The pilot was able to pick out several star destroyers and frigates and he picked up some IFF readings as well." The Identify Friend of Foe signal was standard on all warships in all navies. It gave off the identity of the ship and was standard equipment, though occasionally modified by the various militaries.

Another image appeared. It was an Imperial-Class star destroyer in pristine condition. "This is an image of the Hellion, a ship that had previously been assigned to the New Order world of Byss. It was reported lost in battle over that planet two years ago. We suspect that what is parked at Mon Calamari is merely the hull."

A list of vessels then scrolled across the screen, ships names along with dates of reported loss of abandonment. It was a long list. "It appears that someone has gone through a lot of trouble to make it look like Mon Calamari is being properly defended."

"Why in the name of the Force would they leave the planet undefended?" someone asked out loud.

"Because Thrawn has been sent into the Unknown Regions to quell some disturbance out there," Daala said. She stood up, watching as the men took in her figure in her form-fitting green uniform. They were her puppets on a string. Only Katarn seemed unaffected. He was too good an officer to let anything distract him. Daala had been keeping an eye on him for quite awhile. "Our spies on Imperial Center have reported that Thrawn has not visited to kneel before Lord Ravage for almost a year. All they know is that Ravage himself wanted the disturbance in the Outer Regions placated immediately. It is not common knowledge, however."

"So, he took his whole fleet?" the young admiral asked, leaning forward. "This could be bad."

Daala shrugged. "It isn't important. What is important is that there is a skeleton fleet at Mon Calamari and we would be fools to not pounce!" She struck the table with her fist to emphasize her point.

The admiral was not convinced. "It's a trap."

Daala laughed. "How? How could it be? Do not tell me you believe the stories that my dear, departed husband liked to regale you with in his meetings? There are no other super weapons out there! Thrawn made the mistake of destroying the Maw Installation instead of capturing it, or else he could have had some weapons…possibly," she said. The installation had been one of Tarkin's private think tanks and many useful weapons were being developed there. Because of her military duties, however, Daala had been unable to protect both the Confederacy and the Installation at the same time. In the end, she had sent a team under the command of Captain Katarn to destroy the installation.

They had found, however, that Thrawn had beaten them there and he had leveled the base. The debris fields indicated that they had simply fired upon it and never had taken the time to inspect their prize. Daala had expected no less from and alien! "With all due respect, my Moff," the admiral started, "it is simply implausible that someone like Thrawn would leave such an important target so lightly defended."

"Unless he had no choice," Captain Katarn countered. "We have no idea what has been going on in the Unknown Regions all of these years, There have been stories of everything from alien invaders to mad Jedi. Maybe even a Republic base of operations."

"That, I most certainly doubt," a voice said from the shadows. Daala had almost forgotten about General Loor, head of Confederacy Covert Operations, the Tarkinist version of Imperial Intelligence. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to the late Tarkin, but Daala had confirmed for herself that the two of them were not related.

Loor had started out as an Imperial representative working with CorSec during the reign of Palpatine and had wisely chosen to throw his lot in with Tarkin and his group when the Empire split. His experience made him the perfect candidate for the position he now held and under Tarkin's influence; he had become a very cold and dangerous man. In another time and place, Loor's hawk-like features and adherence to orders would make him seem like a kiss-up; in the Tarkin Confederacy, it made him a virtual legend.

Loor stepped forward and brushed some unseen filth from his purple uniform. Purple was the official color of CCO. Daala supposed it made the man look regal and there were times she could almost imagine her dead husband, back in the prime of his life, standing before her. "The Republic has no hidden bases to strike from; they have suffered as much as ourselves in this civil war. All it takes now is for one side to be forced into making a mistake. Thrawn and Ravage have blinked. I agree with our leader, we must strike."

Many of the officers nodded, more out of fear of upsetting the intelligence chief than actual agreement with him. The young admiral, however, still held firm to his ideals. "Everyone has always underestimated Thrawn, from the time he first entered the officer corps until now. This is a trap, I tell you!"

Daala looked to Loor, who merely shrugged. He didn't believe it was a trap and neither did she, but could she really take that chance? "When we leave, we will leave behind the fleet of admiral…"

The admiral smiled and leaned back. "Admiral Rose."

"Of course, forgive me," she said with a smile. That was an officer to keep an eye on for sure. He was sharp and young, very young for an admiral but the name was familiar to her. There was a Rose high up in the leadership of Carida, home of one of the major Imperial Academies. "Admiral Rose will maintain a presence here, just so the Correllian don't see a target of opportunity. General Loor will continue to administer the populace on the ground. Captain Katarn?"

"My Moff!"

"I want you to come up with a plan of attack and coordinate with the other officers." She looked around the table and satisfied that all was going to plan, she blessed them with a large grin. "Today, gentlemen, we begin a new era of human leadership of the galaxy. Woe to those who stand in our way."