Chapter 2
The war has been coming for a while now.
Up until now, it had been merely brush fires. Snide comments on the holonews. Outraged essays written by top legal and political minds.
There are unending complaints from the Outer Rim about Coruscant, and there are unending complaints from the Core Worlds about the Expansionist Region. All of the little laws that flow out from Coruscant on a daily basis, a new tax here, a sweeping reform there. Every standard day the bureaucracy grows larger. Every standard day, someone else becomes disenchanted with the Federation.
Yet now the war is here.
Like most wars, it does not start with a bang. It starts with a whimper. It starts with such a small thing, merely a simple order.
The planet Gyndine hangs in space like a jewel. It's a lovely planet awash in the glow of its sun. It has a population of fewer than four billion sentients, seventy percent of who work in some way for the primary corporate owner of this planet.
With a flicker of pseudo-motion, a star ship appears. Like all Mon Calamari designs, this starship is a conglomeration of flowing lines and bubbles. Appearing as much as a sea creature as a powerful warship, she is the Viscount, the ship of the line of the Viscount-class of star defenders.
The man in charge of this ship and her squadrons of snub fighters is Admiral Gavin Darklighter. Today Gavin Darklighter is not a happy man.
Gavin was raised on Tattooine, a planet where the people who live there, stay for one of two reasons. The first is because they have no way off planet. The second is they are too fiercely independent to go somewhere else.
His thoughts turn dark and surly as he once more reads over the orders found on his datapad. Grimacing he activates an inter-ship comm. "Commander ke Hanadi, Twin Suns is authorized to launch."
Flicking off the comm, he turns to his communications officer. "Ensign Sliah, please contact the Gyndine Shipyards, and get me their CEO or whoever is in charge down there."
Ignoring the ensign's reply, Gavin once more returns his attention to his data pad, reading his orders over once again:
Admiral Darklighter, pursuant to the Military Procurement and Nationalization Act, you are to proceed to Gyndine at best possible speed. Once there you are to take control of the Gyndine Shipyards manufacturing, research and development facilities. Under Section 5 Paragraph 3, you are allowed to use any means necessary, up to and including deadly force, to ensure the transfer of these facilities to Federation control.
"Sir."
Gavin looks towards the communications officer, not quite able to keep his disgust with these orders off of his face, or resignation from his voice. "Yes ensign?"
"Prime Minister Sliven is on the line."
"Thank you; please transfer it to my station."
Gavin looks once more at his orders, and sighs before activating his comm. "Minister Sliven, this is Admiral Gavin Darklighter, of the Federation Defense Fleet. I regret to inform you that I am authorized and empowered by the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances to seize any and all shipyards, weapons, shields and other military-based manufacturing, research and development facilities. In accordance with the Military Procurement and Nationalization Act, Gyndine Shipyards now belongs to the Federation."
"You cannot do this Admiral! It is an outrage!"
A pained note enters Gavin's voice. "I'm sorry sir, I have my orders. Please don't fight this Minister."
"We will defend ourselves."
"You cannot win."
"That does not matter. We will defend ourselves."
"Then I'm sorry Minister."
With a defeated sigh, Gavin slumps into his command chair and switches off the comm. With a pained expression on his face, he turns to his Starfighter Controller. "Give Commander ke Hanadi the green light. Anyone or anything offering resistance, take out."
Shifting to look at his Ground Controller, he continues "Tell General Neeli, that as soon as Commander ke Hanadi gives an all clear, he is ok for launch, and to proceed to the shipyard's corporate offices and to take control. And please remind him on the necessity of keeping civilian casualties at the minimum level possible."
Leaning back in his command chair, Gavin places his hand over his eyes. When did I stop believing in what I was doing?
The scenario is the same on dozens of planets. A Federation cruiser drops in and takes what it wants.
Any resistance is destroyed.
Any arguments ignored.
Thousands of lives are lost.
On Corellia, the Diktat looks at the reports he is receiving and frowns.
On Eriadu, the Prime Minister looks at the reports she is receiving and throws the datapad at the wall in disgust.
On Adumar, the Perator looks at the reports he is receiving and considers how best to use this to his and Adumar's advantage.
On Sullust, Surrosub's Board of Directors, look at the reports presented to them by a minor manager, and chitter to each other angrily.
On Tattooine, Ben Skywalker is watching the holonet, hearing the reports of the nationalization of the various manufacturing concerns, a frown on his face, and dread in his heart.
Through out the mid and outer rim, there is one thought one every government's mind. Succession.
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Coruscant. The Jedi Temple.
The bright and shining center of the galaxy. For millennia it has ruled the stars. A giant city-planet which was at one time home to billions upon billions of people.
Today its population is much less than that. The Vong War has left its mark upon this planet. No longer is it home to uncounted billions. No longer is it a giant city. Yet it still is the center of galactic government.
Even the Jedi continue to have their temple there.
The Jedi Temple rises above the buildings and trees surrounding it. It is a towering edifice of glass, stone and durasteel. In the tallest of the towers that grace it, there exists a room. It is a pretty room, a circle; the room takes up nearly the entire area of the tower. There are windows on all the walls but one, which holds the door to the waiting area and turbolift.
Within this room sit the twelve most powerful beings in the Jedi Order. The Council. Twelve different people, from different pasts, all brought together by the Force.
While some Jedi may be more powerful in terms of sheer strength, all obey the decrees handed down by the Council. It could be argued, that these twelve people are the most powerful in the galaxy.
And among these, there is one whose power outshines all the others.
She is Jedi Master Jaina Solo.
All those who have ever seen her, have described her as beautiful. Even during the war, when she was more often in dirty flight suits and covered in grease than clean and in her flowing Jedi robes, the mechanics, pilots and soldiers would stare and watch as she crossed the room.
Today, she is older, with less fire in her veins, more patience, and an introspective outlook on life, which a younger Jaina would never have understood. Life has not been easy for her. Her mastery and control over the Force was not a willing decision, so much as imposed upon her by others, by her brother. He killed some of her best friends. He tortured another one. And he took her eyes from her.
Yet for all the pain and suffering he caused prior to his death, she can still not find it in her heart to hate him. She still misses the boy that she would build cages for.
Jaina Solo sits in one of the twelve Master's chairs, her dark robes pooled around her, her customary veil covering the scars on her face. In the Force she can see the others beside her, their Force presences brilliant and shining.
Then the person they are all waiting on arrives. His Force presence is not as bright as the other masters; it is shaded, tainted, by compromise, stress and exhaustion. But still she smiles for Cal Omas. "Chief Omas, welcome to the Jedi Council, what problems is the Federation facing today?"
"We have heard some disturbing rumors from the Outer and Mid Rims."
"Go on."
"We believe that Adumar is hiding some of their manufacturing plants from us, and selling the ordinance to pirates."
Jaina turns her head slightly as Kyp speaks up. "Well Chief, if the Senate hadn't passed the Military Procurement and Nationalization Act, then this probably wouldn't have happened."
With this, Tresina Lobi feels the need to defend what she sees as a good law. "No Master Durron. If that law had not passed, Adumar would probably still be doing this. We just would not know about it."
Jaina interrupts Kyp before an argument on the law in question can erupt. "Chief, I fail to see exactly what it is that you are wanting the Jedi to do."
She can hear the amusement in his voice. "Master Jedi, I am requesting that a Jedi be sent to Adumar to see if this illegal munitions operation can be found. If so, then it can either be shut down or turned over to the state."
Streen, in what for him is an unusual move, speaks out at this. "And what if us Jedi don't want to do this?"
"You cannot not do this. Prior to his retirement, Master Skywalker made it clear that the Jedi serve the Federation. As servants of the Federation, you must obey the laws of the Federation."
Jaina turns her head towards Kolir Hu'lya as the bothan begins to speak. "You would presume to tell the Jedi what we must do?"
Jaina holds up her hand, forestalling further conversation. Once silence has fallen over the chambers, she queries the others through the Force, taking a vote to see if the Jedi will send a representative to Adumar. As she silently waits for all the masters to chime in, she wonders just what is really happening on Adumar that bothers Cal so much. Finally, a consensus is reached.
She graces Chief Omas with another smile. "Chief Omas, the Jedi will send a representative to Adumar."
"Wonderful1! Might I suggest Ben Skywalker? His handling of the incident on Gotal, speaks highly of his abilities for this type of mission."
"Thank you for coming Chief Omas, fear not, the Jedi will send who we believe to be best suited to this job."
Jaina can feel her mother's distaste as Omas leaves the room. "Now Mom, I know how you feel about politicians these days, but he's really not that bad."
As soon as she finished saying that, the Council erupts into argument. Half of the Masters hate this new law and want nothing to do with it, while the other half believe it a great tool to bring weapons under control. Once more, Jaina wishes that she still had eyes, or even optic nerves where she could be outfitted with droid ones, so that she could watch those in the room around her, rather than feel their impressions through the Force.
Sighing slightly to herself, she raises her voice to be heard over the din. "Which Jedi do we have free, that is able to perform this mission?"
Leia's voice is soft as she replies, "Just Ben and Jysella. They are on Tattooine visiting Luke."
"There are no others?"
"Not unless you want to take Sannah away from the riots on Cacpircous, or tell Doran Tainer to not mediate that mining dispute in the Corporate Sector."
"Fine. Now who gets the joy of telling them we are going to have to cut their vacation short?"
Jaina feels her frustration, as none of the other Masters step forward for this task.
"That's what I figured."