RWS Obi Wan Kenobi-War Room.

"Greetings Commodore." The General greeted standing, smiling thinly.

Galen froze in his tracks. "Are you talking to me?" He inquired arching an eyebrow.

"You don't know?" Galen shook his head in the negative, the General clapped his hand. "Excellent," then he cleared his throat dramatically. "I mean the Chancellor, through executive order, has granted the promotion of you to Commodore. Death a Lt. Cmdr. Amann, John Zaun, and Jedi Knight Renate all Lts."

"I see." Galen was slightly perturbed. "What is the situation?"

The General smiled to himself demurely, his first genuine smile. "Right, down to business, I can respect that, I am General Maier by the way, you can be seated."

The small group of Knights sat down, a droid seemingly materialized out of the shadows and served the group drinks. Galen had some Corellian juice, John had water.

The lighting in the room darkened slightly before a primitive holo map appeared in the center of the table and revolved in front of their faces.

General Maier started to explain. "Right. These are the 'Gandrini ship yards. Over the past couple of months Republic Intelligence has been looking for the facility or planet that was used as a base for the attack on Planet LJ-115, we believe it to be this planet."

"What makes you say that?" Death asked skeptically.

Maier frowned annoyed, he huffed slightly before turning to Death. "We have intercepted loads of transmissions around the area which seems to give that as an indication. Now can we continue?" When Death was not going to say anything he did do just that. "Good. Now the planet is surrounded by defense platforms, dry docks, work facilities, and what we believe are Warships." As the General spoke yellow circles appeared indicating what he was saying.

Amann whistled in slight surprise.

"A Republic task force, led by the Obi Wan Kenobi, will strike this facility." Maier finished the briefing. "Questions?" he painfully flinched, obviously dreading this part of the briefing.

"Why are we not joined by the RWS Han Solo? She is a ship of force and is in the vicinity?" John beat everyone to it.

"Good question." Maier responded perturbed. "Well she is a ship of force and being one of the only ones in the vicinity she is still in orbit of Planet LJ-115. Making sure no one makes another move against them or Kandar." He smiled to himself. "Poor sobs are going to miss all the fun."

"What about our group, what will it consist of?" Galen asked next.

General Maier paused as if recalling by memory. "We are going to be a specialist group, nearly a full battle force but heavy on the Fighters. In addition to half the escort wing of the Han Solo we will be having two Cruiser Carriers, four Transport Carriers, one additional Command ship, four ion defense frigates, and another fighter group attached to us. We have more fighters then we do pilots." Maier looked over the Jedi at mentioning the last part of that.

"Ah I see." John blurted, and then the room looked at him. John blushed, but his quick wit saved him. "What exactly will our role be in this mission?"

"Glad you asked that John." Maier glared darkly at the young Padawan. "Report to the training deck right now for your flight training."

"Wait, what?" John gasped taken aback.

"General I must protest, this is highly-" Galen started.

"Check with the Chancellor, he has put your Jedi group as part of my pilot wing, I will put them to good use and I suspect that they have not had military training to this point. Is that correct?" Maier snapped.

Galen just stared at the General darkly.

"I will take that as a no then." Maier smiled triumphantly. "Well if there are no more questions then I suggest we get to it, we do not have a lot of time to get your boys ready."

They were dismissed unceremoniously and practically shoved out into the hall, practically.

Amann's voice pierced through the tense atmosphere of the room like a knife shot out of a cannon. "This should be fun."

Obi Wan Kenobi's training room 3-4-8.

John was pacing outside the room, Death was serenely leaning against one wall. John continued, up one side, down the other, quickly, faster and faster, more and more antsy and nervous. Up and down up and down. Galen was not there. He was off with General Maier and the Captain of the ship, being among the most senior officers on board he was responsible for watching the training of the pilots.

John paused at the ridiculousness of the thought Commodore Zaun? It sounded so blatantly absurd, but on the other hand it did have a nice ring to it, he wondered if he could make a life in the Military. Probably not, he was a Jedi after all.

He went back to pacing. Amann and his Master were in there for nearly twenty minutes, they had gone in first, just the two of them, apparently the room was big enough for only two pilots. He could occasionally hear a noise, a mechanic and computerized whir as if the computer were changing tapes.

Finally, the door whooshed open with a change of pressure.

"Wooo wee! That was fun!" Amann grinned excitedly, pumping his fists in the air and punching the door frame in celebration, he winced.

"Yes it was." His Master responded demurely, and then she winked at him, where she thought no one could see them, obviously still high on the adrenaline.

The third member of the group came out. "You two showed…exceptional aptitude for this…especially for Jedi." She was a female Twi'lek, a young and attractive one too with a certain, almost natural, swing in her hips. But the rest of her demeanor indicated that if anyone even tried it they would face a withering response.

She turned towards the other two Jedi who had taken position right next to one another. One of her head-tails twitched perceptibly. "OK then, you two are next, Death and John Zaun, this way please." She gestured for them to follow her.

John could not help but watch the slight swing of her hips, almost hypnotic, he then shook his head as if to clear it.

The room was Spartan, black, pitch black, two spot lights came out of the ceiling and bathed the cockpit and front end of two X-Wings built into the floor. The young Lt. picked up a Pad and started transcribing on it. John looked around. He could see absolutely nothing else, the rest of the room was a complete pitch black.

But he could feel his father's presence, Galen was worried, John tried to send a reassuring blast back through the Force. He tried to anyways.

Their training officer cleared her throat behind him. He turned, she was looking at him with her hands on her hips. "Well?"

John successfully fought the urge to blush, instead working his features up into a great big scowl. "Sorry." He took his position beside one of the cockpits, Death already was by the other one.

"Are either of you familiar with the X-Wing control mechanisms?" She asked them.

"Yep." Death nodded confidently.

John nodded. She made notes on her pad.

He remembered them from learning about the basics in school, as apart of his history and technical ed classes. A wave of memories, both pleasant and unpleasant rushed back to him, he blinked back, trying to focus on the task at hand. He climbed into the cockpit.

It closed around him and turned on. Instantly he was in a simulation of space, a whir of gray and yellow colors rushed at him. He wanted to yelp. He could make out another X-Wing off to his right charging into the fray, its Red bolts of angry energy slicing the enemy formation up.

Their enemies tried to get out of the way, a large group of them rushed his simulated fighter. He yelped, and then out of memory from the movies and rolled his stick, inverting his fighter on its belly and shooting through the enemy formation.

He spun his fighter around on its side and deployed his weapons to full attack mode, the wings forming their signature X. He pressed down on the trigger and fired, his storm just barely clipping the enemy.

Another fighter rushed at him, he had barely just enough time to watch it as its angry yellow shots pierced through the cockpit, and vaporizing him, whiting out the simulation.

He had to blink away his blurred vision as the cockpit opened and the simulation ended, two strong hands practically dragged him out of it.

"That was the worse simulation I have ever seen!" Maier raged, his features finally becoming visible as John's vision cleared. "And you," he pointed at Death, "what the hell were you doing leaving your wingman behind?"

Death scowled in return.

John's relief was short lived, as Maier doubled down the grip on John's robes. "But what was that? What a disgrace, I should have you thrown off the ship this minute you little-" Maier never finished the sentence as he pulled back on his hand and was getting ready to strike.

"General!" Galen's hand shot out and steadied the General's hand, grabbing him by the shoulder.

The General stopped, and then scowled. "Yes of course you are right. Lt. see to it." He nodded before straightening his uniform and storming out of the room.

Galen probed John through the Force, deeply, intimately, making sure that the damage was not permanent before running off in hot pursuit, his robes billowing behind him.

This left John and Death in the tender, if stunned, care of their training officer.

John robotically followed the orders, his mind was a whirlwind of images and memories, some of them not his own. But yet they were familiar.

Galen finally caught up with the General, just when Galen thought he had gotten away.

The General knew that he was there but refused to stop for no man.

Galen finally stopped, "General!" he bellowed.

Maier hissed dramatically before turning, approaching his unofficial 'commodore'.

"What was that about?" Galen forestalled any rebuke with his own question.

Maier turned nastily, moving back a few paces before facing the Jedi again.

"It is you, you and your damned order and your damned special connections. Acting Lts, Lt Cmdr for Death, and you a Commodore! I have had men on this ship and in my years of service that have worked a LIFETIME for opportunities such as these, going through months and years of training, only to be replaced by four sniveling brats and an old man! Just like that in a blink of an eye!"

"That may be your justification for the incident, and it may even be true, I can feel it is true on some level. But in the end it is just an excuse. Our 'commissions'," Galen spat disdainfully "have no real power, no real authority, and in a crisis we can be 'ordered' about by a simple Ensign. The only authority we might have is over enlisted personnel, and even that given our lack of experience is tenuous. And that does not explain why you are going after my son specifically." Galen glared.

"I am doing no such thing-" Maier tried to back off, tried to retreat, regroup.

"Don't give me that." Galen snapped, his tone gentle but the command in his words fierce. Then his eyes widened dramatically, in sudden realization. Then he narrowed his eyes studying the General intensely. "Don't tell me…you are Devylyn's father?"

The General stopped his pacing, he looked furious and surprised, but he suddenly smiled to himself. "How'd you know?"

"After the incident at the school I have gone through all the reports, all the files, and everything else. Trying to fill in the blanks and learn what happened, make sense of it all and fill in what my son did not tell me." Galen whispered, barely audible. "And I learned her last name, I thought we were done with this."

"I am sure." Maier hissed. "John Zaun." He mocked. "Perfect little John Zaun, the perfectly noble Jedi Knight that nobly rushed to the rescue of the damsel in distress…and beat a defenseless boy with a pipe within an inch of his life. That boy just happened to be her boyfriend. Never again."

Galen wanted to respond, but bit his tongue and held it back, being too bitter. Instead he sighed. "Look can we move on? Can we try and get to the mission at hand?"

"I can try." Galen began to let his defenses down, but Maier continued. "But you still have to resolve the issue that your group has been forced on me, without the slightest amount of military training when I have people on this ship who have had years of experience without reaching your lofty ranks. And, just when justice was about to be done. Just when John would have faced his punishment and the courts, your precious Jedi Council swooped in, and used their considerable power and saved little John." Maier spat.

Galen sighed. "Look it does not matter our personal feelings, we will have to work together."

"I agree." Maier nodded. "but," the warning alarms suddenly blared.

"Unauthorized access training bay 3-4-8." It came over the intercom.

"What the?" Galen asked the universe.

"I do not know." Maier said, stalking off. Galen went off in pursuit.

Training Room

John was strapped into the cockpit, the simulation was raging in full force around him as he attempted to pilot the ship through the storm. His eyes were narrowed, darting from controls, to readouts, to the simulation screen, and then back again. Always looking for enemy fighters, always trying to stay one step ahead of the enemy, he spun, manuevered, and launched away.

It was an odd twist of fate that the simulation did not allow John or any Jedi to use their natural abilities in the Force. The simulated fighters and surrounding starscape were not actually 'there'. They were figments of a computerized imagination, and thus provided nothing real to lock onto. Still if there was any other way for a Jedi to develop talents outside of the Force, then this was it. Not relying on the Force but on instinct, instrument, and the periphery, an important lesson in any situation.

And he was running, running, doggedly determined to make up for his sins, to make up for the torrent of images that poured out of the General's head when the two of them made contact. He set his mouth, he was going to atone for his sins, atone for the pain that he felt, and this was a way to do it.

He was playing an interesting game of cat and mouse with the simulated fighters. He was not able to shoot any of them down, but he was staying ahead of them, watching out as he rocketed just out of their reach.

He was constantly maneuvering to get a better angle, the simulated gravitic forces forcing him against the seat slightly as he turned to engage the enemy.

But it was too late, the cockpit shook from simulated hits, alarms blared as his entire status board flashed red warnings at him, he heard a simulated droid shriek in the background. He grunted as his compensators failed and the Gs hit him full force. Another hit finished him off.

The simulation ended, he looked around. He was greeted by mixed reactions. Death looked triumphant, Galen looked uneasy, and the General looked at him with an inquisitive mixture of curiosity and satisfaction.

John felt apprehensive, his eyes flicked back and forth between the three of them, worried at the rebuke he was going to get, and wondering who was going to give it to him.

Finally General Maier came forward. "Well after flying like that we just might make a pilot out of you yet." The General smiled, John smiled back uneasily hardly trusting the situation. "But do not try that again Lieutenant or you will be facing a severe reprimand." The General chastised harshly, but the tone of voice took much of the sting out of the rebuke.

John smiled uncertainly, but responded with a simple "yes sir."

"Good." The General turned to the Twi'lek training officer, "Lieutenant, double the training regiment."

She nodded in response.

"I think it's time that we put our differences behind us and get ready for war." The General barked sounding determined, heading out of the room and to his own command center, to make his own preparations for war.

Galen just sat there, looking at his son uneasily.