Chapter 1 – Signs of Rebellion
Darkness encased the world as Brian closed his eyes. Relaxing his muscles he eased himself into a meditative trance, reaching out through the Force. Slowly, darkness gave way to color, as the world around him became a vast plain of grassy knolls and endless green. Soft clouds rolled lazily in the gentle breeze that seductively caressed his skin under the warm glow of the sun.
Brian Hughes was at peace. Even he couldn't find him here.
Standing in the metaphoric plain he'd created, he strolled the lone countryside in summer's eternal brace. Thoughts of pressing matters came to mind as he contemplated his life and the lives of countless others. It was so easy to organize his brain here, as no distractions interfered.
"Master?"
'Or at least unwanted distractions,' he mused.
Brian turned to find his student had joined him. He smiled gently and beaconed the padawan to him. "Mark, I'm glad you're here."
"This really is beautiful," his apprentice replied, his face betraying the awe he felt.
"Now you know why I come here."
Master and apprentice walked silently, neither speaking, as they were lost in their thoughts. In the distance a lake could be seen shimmering in the midday sun. Ripples created by the wind gently lapped the shore. They continued towards it, as if drawn to its magnificent splendor.
They paused at its edge and sat, taking in the beauty that beheld them.
"It will begin sooner than expected, won't it?" Mark asked without a hint of emotion.
Brian nodded, his gaze held steady on the deep blue waters. "Yes," he softly replied.
They both remained silent as they accepted this fact. War was inevitable. Since the Earth's occupation by the Empire, more and more people had begun to resist the strain of its oppressive rule. Around the world, people were uniting, willing to make a stand. They only waited for someone to lead them.
Brian accepted this burden. The resolution to lead was reached neither by choice or desire but through necessity; he knew the Empire better than most. The intimate connection he shared with its Emperor, his Polar Being, made him an invaluable asset.
Guilt came with this knowledge, a guilt that tore at his soul every waking moment. It was because of his connection with Palpatine that the Earth had been occupied in the first place.
Mark could feel his master's conflict and frowned. He watched as Brian struggled to push out the remorse he felt.
"You are a good man, Master. You are doing the right thing. No matter what we've done in the past, it is our actions now that reflect who we are. If that were not so then there would be no hope for Trevor."
Brian looked at Mark and smiled. His apprentice was wise in a way he would never be. Mark's faith in him was unwavering, as was his faith in the will of the Force. "You're right my padawan, there is nothing I can do about the past. Only make right was has been wronged."
Without a word, they both stood, taking in the beauty of the lake one last time before departing. Brian had a meeting he must soon attend
Closing their eyes, the plain washed away and darkness returned.
The dense, green foliage gave way to a small clearing. Large trees bordered the opening like giant sentinels, their branches weaving together into a living canopy that yielded little light.
Within the clearing stood a lone man, dark shadows obscuring his features, giving any who might cross his path the surreal impression that he was not quite human.
Except for his eyes, nearly black in color, he did not move. Indeed, he hadn't in over an hour. His alert senses strained to register the approach of another. He always looked forward to these meetings; he considered them challenges. He'd yet been able to detect the other's approach. No matter how quiet the forest was, no matter how early he came, he never heard the other. It was as if the forest gave birth to him right before his eyes.
He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder. Pulling his weapon from its holster he spun around, only to find no one there.
"You're getting faster. You almost got me that time," a voice said from behind him, the direction he'd originally been facing.
Turning, he regarded the man with a frustrated scowl. "Someday I'm going to learn how you do that." His scowl relaxed into a smile as he hugged the man. "It's good to see you again my friend."
"You too Carlos. So how is the family?"
"Good, they're doing very well. My little Maria is getting bigger every day," he said, beaming with fatherly pride. "And how is Jude?"
"Oh he's learning something new everyday. Sometimes he picks stuff up so fast I fear that I'll run out of things to teach him by the time he's five," the man joked. "Sarah says he's got my looks and her brains."
Carlos laughed. "I'm glad to hear things are going so well for you Brian. Tell me, has he developed any of your… special traits?"
"It's too early to say, though I wouldn't be surprised. He seems so aware of everything, but then again, what two year olds aren't?"
"I'm sure he will grow to be a great man, like his father."
Brian nodded, a worried look flashing on his face for the briefest of moments. "So, how are things in the 'real' world?"
"Not good I'm afraid," Carlos said with a sigh.
"That's what I figured. Heaton's keeping everything in order I take it?"
"Everyday he comes up with another law; another reason to punish innocents for committing a crime that was perfectly legal just the day before."
Brian looked Carlos in the eyes. "He's getting closer to finding us, isn't he?"
Carlos shrugged. "His informants are everywhere, but you need not worry; he's still hitting dead ends. No one knows where you are; most don't even know who you are. The interrogations only lead to more questions than answers."
"I still don't like it. Innocent people are dying because of me."
"No," Carlos corrected. "They are dying for a cause they believe in. You represent the hope that we will one day win the Earth back its freedom."
Brian frowned. In his heart he disagreed and Carlos understood why. How could he represent hope when he was the reason the Empire was there in the first place?
"I have news from our contact in Moscow," Carlos continued. "It seems the workers are getting restless. Word is spreading throughout all the camps in Asia and Europe. It won't be long before they revolt."
Brian shook his head. "Not too soon I hope. We need more time. If they revolt, Heaton will slaughter them just for the sake of pride; and Quietus won't do a thing to stop him."
Carlos spat, cursing under his breath. "Quietus, that murderous traitor! The Jedi should have killed him when he had the chance."
Frowning Brian could only shake his head. "Obi-Wan did what the Force willed him too." He paused, a look of reverence composing his face. "Things would have turned out much worse if it weren't for him."
"You are a wise man Brian, but you'll have to forgive me if I disagree."
Brian smiled and clasped Carlos on the back. "That's why you're my General, Carlos. I need a man who is not afraid to voice his opinion, even when it differs from mine."
Carlos smiled in appreciation. "I am humbled you think so."
Brian looked around, a frown shadowing his face briefly. "I need to get going soon. Tell me, what of the U.S.? How are things progressing there?"
"Much more swiftly. More and more people are rallying to our cause." Carlos paused as if reluctant to continue. "But the situation is growing unstable in Alaska. Men are dying everyday in the harsh conditions. Heaton's solution, of course, isn't to create a safer work environment. He just pulls more men away from their homes and families to replace them. This may grow more volatile than Moscow."
It was Brian's turn to curse under his breath. "Okay. Send some men there to help. Should things get out of hand we may need to step in and cool things down. In the mean time, send the word out to get ready. If things do get beyond our control, and Heaton steps in, we need to be prepared."
"I don't like this Brian. It's as if Heaton wants a rebellion. It's as if he's using these workers to draw you out."
"That's exactly what he's doing, and he just may succeed. If no one steps in to lead these men, Heaton will pick them off like caged animals. He knows we need more time and will do anything he can to take it away from us."
"I will do what I can to slow things down," Carlos said. "I will be in contact with you soon. I suggest you get ready to leave."
Brian nodded. "I will. May the Force be with you."
Carlos nodded. "You too my friend."
Carlos turned to leave and paused. Looking back, he smiled. Brian had vanished.
The Star Destroyer Tradition hovered Earth's surface like a giant bird of prey. The newest addition to the Empire was a grand example of their permanent presence on the small planet. Tie's swarmed around it, screaming as their engines propelled the small craft through space.
Grand Moff Heaton stood on the command center's catwalk, surveying the men below as they monitored the ship's many systems. A smile graced his lips as he approached the view screen. Earth stood below him in its ominous beauty.
"I assume the ship is to your liking Heaton?"
Frowning, the Moff turned to the man who dared speak to him. "It will do, Lord Quietus," he replied curtly.
"I hope so," the Sith Lord replied. "It's taken us nearly two years to build it. The Emperor was growing impatient."
Indeed, the Emperor's patience had been severely tested as the ship went well over budget and went more than six months over schedule thanks to Heaton's special modifications and requirements.
"The Emperor placed me in charge of bringing this galaxy's pathetic inhabitants into the Empire. I do not need remind you, Lord Quietus, that as Grand Moff of an un-established region I will no doubt encounter special needs that will require a more than average ship. One never knows what they'll encounter and should be prepared for anything."
Quietus frowned as he listened to the man's justifications. Heaton had yet to go on any explorations or invasions of the newly discovered systems. He was, however, very good at taking credit once the missions were successful.
"Are you done?" Quietus asked, returning the Moff's curt tone. "Because if you are, I have more important things to tend to."
"Do not take that tone with me, Quietus. Do not forget your place as the leader of my fleet."
Quietus stepped closer, his cold eyes just inches from Heaton's. "Last I heard this was the Empire's fleet. I answer to the Emperor and Lord Vader, no one else."
Heaton took an awkward step back, clearing his throat. He glared at the men below who seemed to be enjoying the conversation a little too much. They quickly went back to monitoring their stations.
Raising his voice so everyone could here, Heaton replied, "You are here only because I allow you to be."
The Moff quickly walked away, not waiting for a response.
The corner of Quietus' mouth pulled up as he watched him leave. "We'll see who stays and who goes soon enough," he mumbled.
Brian smiled as he emerged from the dense rain forest. His padawan was meditating on the edge of the clearing, waiting for him.
"How did it go Master?"
"We must be prepared to leave soon, Mark. As we feared, the world is growing restless."
His padawan nodded, standing gracefully. "Moscow?"
Brian nodded. "Alaska too."
Sad resignation overcame his apprentice's face. "We may not have enough men."
"Carlos is doing his best to slow things down. Hopefully that will be enough."
Nodding, Mark decided it best not to express his doubts. Brian noticed this and stopped. "You don't think he'll succeed, do you?"
"It is in the Force's hands Master."
Brian smiled. "You would make a great politician, my young apprentice."
Mark returned his master's smile. "I just don't believe in expressing negative thoughts. It degrades confidence and instills a sense of foreboding."
"A fine attribute that any leader should have."
Master and padawan continued their way to the encampment.
"Any word on my father?" Mark asked almost second hand.
"No, just that Heaton's pushing for the revolt in Alaska. I'm sure once the workers rebel your father will show himself."
Brian gauged his pupil for a reaction. Only calm waves reverberated through the Force. Mark was a perfect example of contentment, no matter what the situation. He shielded his feelings about his father well.
"So where is my other student?" Brian asked, changing the subject.
"Trevor has gone with Marcus looking for food. I don't think Marcus trusts his decisions after last time."
Brian laughed as he recalled Marcus' reaction to the goat meat Trevor had purchased. "I can't say I blame him."
"I don't think that's the only thing Marcus doesn't trust about him," Mark added.
"I'm afraid that will always be a problem for Marcus."
Trevor Cook, a convicted murder, was certainly the last person Brian ever expected to train as a Jedi. He couldn't deny his surprise in how much the man had changed over the last three years.
In the beginning, Trevor was aggressive, mean and dangerous, even after his supposed change of heart while confined in Obi-Wan's body. Struggling with his inner demons, he had found that only extensive meditation and training helped him confront himself and bring about the changes that only he could make.
Now Trevor barely resembled the man he once was. Haunted by his past, he worked extra hard to prove he had changed. He was determined to pay retribution for his crimes until the end of his days.
It took a while but Brian finally began to trust the man with whom he'd been charged with training. Mark too had grown close with him, seeing much of the man his father once was. Like Trevor, his father had once been a reformed convict before Darth Sidious had seduced him to the darkside.
Brian's wife, Sarah, had been slow to come around, but eventually she too had learned to trust him. Only Marcus refused to give him a chance. Always watching his every move, Marcus was convinced that the day would come when Trevor would betray them.
"Brian! Mark!" A pleasant voice called to them.
Sarah Hughes approached with a small boy in her arms.
"Why Mrs. Hughes, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" Brian teased.
"Your son missed you," she replied, giving him a kiss before thrusting the small child into her husband's arms.
Brian hugged his son who rapped his pudgy arms around his neck.
"How's my little Jedi doing?" He asked as he looked at his son.
"He's been asking for you all day," she smiled.
"You have?" He asked his son, who giggled in return.
Jude began to squirm as he spotted Mark. Brian placed the boy into his padawan's arms and turned back to his wife. "I hear Trevor and Marcus are at it again."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "How are these two ever going to lead an army if they can't get along with each other?"
"Don't worry. They'll work together when the time comes. They may not like each other but they do stand for the same cause."
"I hope you're right."
"They'll be fine," Brian reassured. "That is assuming they don't kill each other before then."
Admiral Westlen met Commander Strople at the Maw Installation hanger bay. They watched as the ship before them was loaded with personal luggage and supplies. Strople tugged at his collar, feeling very out of place in his new uniform. How Gat had talked him into this he didn't know. It was one thing to start smuggling rare alloys under the nose of the Empire; it was another to join it all together.
"You're not having second thoughts are you friend?" Gat teased.
"No, but I am wondering how the hell I end up in situations like this. Are you sure that thing is safe?" He nodded towards the ship designed specifically for the task of black hole travel.
"Don't worry, we'll be fine. Before you know it we'll be there."
"And I'm going to get one of these things as my personal transport between here and there?"
"Well, it's on lone from the Empire, but yeah, that's the only way you'll ever make it back here, at least until the Empire builds something bigger."
Strople eyed the strange looking craft. Small and sleek it was obviously heavily shielded. To his surprise it was also equipped with heavy cannons.
"These things ever see any action?" He asked, nodding towards the weapons.
"These were used in the occupations of Earth and Bryum," Gat confirmed. "These things are small but they do their job. You should have seen how long it took to transport enough supplies to build a Star Destroyer. Grand Moff Heaton, our beloved Governor, was very specific on how it was built. You're just going to love this guy."
"A real winner huh?" Strople asked.
"Let's just say the Emperor set him up in this new galaxy because no one here would work under him. He has the bad habit of rubbing others the wrong way."
"Why not just get rid of him altogether?"
"Because, believe it or not, he gets the job done. Excuse me for a moment, I need to check on some things."
Strople nodded and watched his friend leave. The ship appeared to be nearly loaded as storm troopers began boarding. He skin crawled at the thought of flying with them. He never liked storm troopers. There was something unnatural in the thought that they were all clones of the same handful of men. There was a rumor that the Emperor was considering drafting ordinary men into their ranks. It appeared that the clones were aging too rapidly, exhausting the Empires budgets. It would be cheaper to pay men to join than to grow them.
A pilot approached him and stood at attention. It took a moment for Strople to realize that the man was waiting for him to respond.
"Yeah?" He asked, sure that he sounded like a fool. He was an officer in the Imperial Navy now, not some foreman in a factory.
"Commander Strople, the ship is loaded sir. We can leave as soon as you and Admiral Westlen are ready."
"Ah, very good pilot. You can go now."
"Thank you sir," the pilot saluted.
Awkwardly, Strople returned the salute. He watched the pilot board the ship and sighed. He hated this.
"You're getting the hang of things I see," Gat said from behind him.
"I don't know if I'm cut out for this Gat," he confessed.
"You'll do fine. Oh, and around the men, call me Admiral."
"Sorry Sir," he sarcastically replied.
Gat smiled, shaking his head. "Let's go. Our men are waiting."
Nodding, he followed Gat onto the star craft.
'This is going to be interesting,' he bitterly thought.