Chapter 4: The Stark Hyperspace Dispute: Departure
[The passageways of The Ouran, space above Coruscant, the Coruscant system]
"Hey Xiaan, A'Sharad; either of you seen Obi-Wan?" Padawan Aayla Secura, blue Twi'Lek girl who was known for 'challenging' the Jedi dress code, called down the passage after them. They both shrugged at her.
"Nope, been training all morning," said Xiaan.
"Well if you see him, could you tell him he has a last minute mission and Master Jinn's waiting for him in hangar 5V?" she said before running off.
"So, lunch?" asked A'Sharad, getting a nod from Xiaan as they continued down the passage. The door opened just before they came to it, revealing Masters Sifo-Dyas and Ranik Solusar in the middle of one of their famous 'discussions'.
"Ranik I'm telling you; Bruck needs more support. He is struggling and you can't see it."
"I find his progress to be fine."
"He is still unable to grasp several essential principles of being a Jedi. I can't tell you the number of times he's come to me with questions that I simply can't help him understand the answers to, no matter how I word things."
"He never expressed such issues with me."
"You aren't exactly the most approachable person Ranik. And it's not just me; Sora, Kit, Jocasta, Ashka, Qui-Gon, Adi and Foul have all been sought out by him with the same problems and the same results. You need to have a long talk with your padawan or at least talk to The Dark Woman about it."
"I refuse to bring that child abuser into this," A'Sharad's hand clenched at this, "I'll have him speak to Master Kcaj and if he can't help Bruck then I will talk to him myself."
"The Dark Woman is no child abuser, she simply-"
"Um... Masters?" cut in Xiaan. They both turned to her, apparently only just noticing she and A'Sharad were even there.
"Can we get past please?" said A'Sharad.
"Oh, yes of course," said Master Solusar – a short but muscled Rattataki with heavyset facial features, a permanently fierce expression, a bull-style nose ring and flowing, thick, lined tattoos on his face and cranium. They both moved aside to let Xiaan and A'Sharad pass.
"So, I guess we're not supposed to talk about that," said Xiaan when they were out of earshot.
"Probably a good idea," replied A'Sharad as they entered the kitchens.
Agen had – as usual – tactically eaten when no-one else was around to rope him into cooking for them. The only evidence of his coming and going being the cleaned pans, plate and cutlery draining by the refresher. Xiaan and A'Sharad took plates from the nearest cupboard and walked up to K'Kruhk, who sat alone with a colossal platter of sandwiches.
"Mind if we join you?" asked A'Sharad.
"Sure, help yourself," said K'Kruhk and they both took seats opposite him.
"So where's Stass?" said Xiaan, loading up a generous pile of sandwiches onto her plate while A'Sharad settled for a neat little stack.
"Deep meditation session with Master Kcaj," said K'Kruhk, "Agen took her lunch a few minutes ago."
"Wonder how she's doing?" said Xiaan.
"She talked to her father this morning, seemed much better after that."
[Hangar 5V, The Ouran]
"And where exactly were you?" asked Aayla as Obi-Wan finally dashed into the hangar. Masters Tholme, Qui-Gon Jinn and Jedi Knight Quinlan Vos all turned to look at them.
"Room of a thousand fountains, but that doesn't matter now. What's the mission?"
"Well, you and Qui-Gon are filling in for me in a negotiation," said Tholme, "Aayla, you and Quinlan are with me to investigate that explosion on Thyferra."
"What are the negotiations about?" said Obi-Wan.
"You'll get the details on the way but it's basically a dispute between the Trade Federation and some pirates who've been preying on them. You'll be alongside Masters Tyvokka, Koon and Gallia," said Tholme as he turned towards one of the two shuttles in the hangar.
"Hey Obi-Wan, have fun with Siri," smirked Quinlan. Quinlan was a Kiffar Human, as evidenced by the yellow traditional tattoo running across his face over the top of his nose and his copious dreadlocks. Less traditional was his near-permanent five o'clock shadow.
"Siri's coming too?"
"Well yeah, you didn't think Master Gallia was gonna leave her behind did you?"
[Observation decks, The Ouran]
"Attention," Master Che's voice rang out over the P.A. "The Ouran will be entering hyperspace in five minutes. Anyone who wants one last look at Coruscant should do it now."
There was already a small group of younglings, padawans and knights clustered around the balcony as K'Kruhk, Xiaan and A'Sharad stepped out onto it. Bultar was already there, leaning on the railing and gazing down at the planet through the Ouran's protective transparasteel.
"Feeling better?" asked K'Kruhk as they walked over to her.
"As long as I don't move," came her terse reply.
"So how'd your briefing go?" said Agen as he stepped beside them.
"Pretty good, I'm off to Fwacide for a long term assignment undercover."
"Nice place," said Xiaan, "I went there for a short mission once with J'Mikel, the city of Bastille in the Adamant Isles."
"I'm off to Thrace, the city of Los Mang Jagas specifically."
"Never went there, that's the planet's biggest city right?"
"Yeah but I'm on the outskirts, not sure how much of it I'll see."
"If I'm remembering right it's supposed to have a giant defensive dome they can put up if attacked."
"I can't see! Could one of you move please?" K'Kruhk looked down to see a young Kel Dor trying to see between them. In one swift motion he scooped her up and perched her on his shoulder.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yeah, but you stink," she replied tilting her head away from him.
"Hah! Everyone says that when they meet me; you'll stop smelling it soon."
"Okay," the girl said, not looking convinced.
"So what's your name?"
"Sha."
"I like it. Short, simple, easy to remember. I'm K'Kruhk."
"Attention, entering hyperspace in one minute"
Stass sidled up behind them.
"How you doing?" asked A'Sharad.
"Better now. Don't worry about it."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"It wasn't your problem."
"Thirty seconds."
"Farewell Coruscant, can't say I'll miss you," said Xiaan.
"Five, four, three, two, one. Entering hyperspace now."
And suddenly the planet was gone in a blur of blue and white.
[Halls of Learning, The Ouran]
"Okay class, settle down. Kai, stop staring out the window – you've seen hyperspace travel before," Zourvux leaned against her desk waiting for the younglings to stop gawking out the window and settle into their seats. When no such action occurred she sighed and spoke to the ceiling.
"Brig, could you be an absolute dear and darken the windows to this room please?"
"Of course," came a monotone voice and there was a collective groan as the blue vortex was blotted out.
"Now then, if you wouldn't mind and be seated," there was a little more groaning before the class eventually quieted down and took their seats.
"Excellent. Now, picking up from last time; who can tell me a simple application of using the force?"
A sea of hands shot up. Zourvux pointed at Jastus Farr.
"Force-push?" he said.
"Good. Yes, telekinesis is possibly the classic application of The Force," Zourvux summoned a datapad from her desk to her hand, then sent it back in demonstration, "Other simple uses include the mind-trick and split-second precognition. Now what about something more specialised? Can any of you tell me an advanced use of The Force?"
Substantially fewer hands rose this time, "Knol," Zourvux said, turning towards the Bothan at the back.
Knol hesitated for a moment before eventually saying, "Fire."
"Very good. Generating or manipulating fire is a rarely used but nevertheless effective use of the force. It does however have drawbacks. Firstly, because it is specialised it takes a lot of practice and focussed meditation to use to any degree of success. Can anyone think of what the second drawback might be?" There was silence for a few seconds. Zourvux decided to give them a hint, "what happens if you set something on fire, then leave it?"#
In the third row, Sian Jeisel's hand rose. Zourvux pointed at the fluffy, orange Devaronian.
"It could spread... It could keep burning... It wouldn't be too hard to hurt yourself, or someone else."
"Exactly, you get first call on pudding tonight Sian."
"It's just Jeisel," she muttered.
"Oh, sorry; I keep doing that. Yes, fire spreads and burns. Pyrokinetics have harmed themselves, allies and bystanders in the past by making just such a mistake. Also, fire consumes oxygen, which can cause issues on a starship if your species happens to breathe the stuff. Now can anyone give me another specialised or advanced use of the force?" A few hands rose. Zourvux pointed this time at Tarr Seirr, a Cerean boy.
"Telepathy?"
"Indeed, a tricky skill to master and requires a lot of work to be put into it. But it is very useful. It does however come with some moral considerations. Is it acceptable to invade the mind of another? Potentially violating their privacy in the process? A serious question with no real consensus on the answer. Additionally, delving into one's memories and knowledge without consent is known to be very painful for the person who's mind is being read. Surface thoughts, as far as we can tell, have no such side effects if read without permission but the moral issue still exists. Telepathy can also be used to control the actions of others, communicate without being detected and alert the user to the presence of others," she paused to let the ramifications of what she had just told the younglings sink in. She could almost see the temptation, the ideas forming on the children's faces.
Now it was time to drop the anvil.
"But it has a large drawback. Attaining such skill in sensing and interacting with others causes the telepath to be more in tune with life. This is normally a benefit, however if people nearby are distressed, in pain or dying then problems occur. One cannot open oneself to others and not feel their feelings, their experiences. If someone nearby is angry, it can affect the telepath. If they are in pain, the telepath will feel at least some of that pain. If they die, then the telepath feels it. The most powerful telepaths of our order can sense it when large amounts of death occur, even at a distance. Some of them have even been rendered unconscious by a massacre on the other side of the galaxy. Telepathy works two ways. The larger the distubance, the further away it can be felt. The more powerful the telepath, the further they can feel such things. All Jedi sense and feel especially large events, no matter whether they have trained in telepathy or not. But it is dulled if they don't, less of an impediment. It may distract but it won't interfere."
The class looked decidedly horrified. Zourvux smiled slightly.
"Not to worry, it isn't all doom and gloom. This connection to life means that whenever people are feeling happy, or uplifted, you will too. When triumphs occur, people rejoice, or lives are saved, telepaths find themselves in very good moods indeed. Every aspect of telepathy works both ways. Even non-telepathic Jedi will be affected when something especially good happens too, just as they would if an extreme atrocity had happened," she waited a moment to let her monologue sink in before going any further.
"So anyone else? Any other rare uses of The Force?" her smile was back in full force.
Youngling Durnar's hand raised this time, "Psychometry?"
"Ah yes, an extremely rare technique. While you know that The Force flows through all life, you may not know that life can and does leave an impression on non-living matter. Psychometry is the ability to read this impression – effectively sensing and seeing events that have taken place by touching the matter in question. This is always strictly from the point of view of whoever made the impression. Day-to-day activities rarely leave a strong impression; events significant to the person who made the impression do. It is useful to see what has happened but trying to see intentions or thought is inevitably skewed by the subject's point of view."
"But you could tell what someone was thinking at the time?" asked Ausar Auset, a Nikto boy.
"Unlikely, it shows actions and feelings. Also, no-one has ever managed it on organic matter; so by all means try but don't be too disappointed if it doesn't work."
She got up and strode down one of the aisles between the desks.
"So, any others?" there was only silence, "Come on... think a little. What about manipulating gravity?"
"You can do that?" asked Kai.
Zourvux smiled mysteriously, "It is possible, yes. How about severing one's sensitivity to The Force? Maybe holding back death itself? Teleportation? Or even time travel?"
There was a long silence.
Then Durnar said, "But... that's... those things are impossible."
"Most of them were once considered as such. They have all been done. The Force flows through everything. We can interact with The Force. Ergo nothing is 'impossible' through The Force, some things simply have no discovered method. The better question to ask is this: Just because something can be done, should it?"
[Thyferra, the Polith system]
The Thyferran plant looked a mess. A bombed out ruin threatening to crumble at the slightest excuse as freshly growing vines, creepers and moss settled in to reclaim the space. Warning signs were plastered at every gate on the perimeter fence and the yard surrounding the building was silent except for the background chatter of the local insects.
"Are those Hunter-Killer droids?" asked Aayla as she focussed on a glint in the view through the binoculars.
"Let me see," said Quinlan and she passed him the binoculars. He looked out at one of the smashed windows of the building from their vantage point atop a nightclub across the street, "Huh, yes.. yes they are."
"Now why would an industrial accident site need military grade combat units?" said Tholme, slyly.
"Looks like Master Tyvokka may have been right on the money," said Aayla, checking over her lightsabers.
"Maybe, maybe not. We need an inside look." replied Tholme, "Aayla, your force camouflage; can you use it on others as well as yourself?"
"Yes, but I need to be touching them."
"Well, I think it is time we tested it in the field."
"Then let's go pay a surprise inspection," said Quinlan with a slight grin.
Aayla returned both her lightsabers to her belt and wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders. To an observer they would have appeared to simply fade away from existence.
"Three, two, one."
They all jumped in tandem, The Force carrying them off the roof, across the street and just over the fence. One of the droids at the nearest window turned to regard the slight shift in the ground where they landed before returning to survey the nearest gate. They slowly walked to the blasted ruin that had once been the main entrance and entered the nearest room off the lobby. Here Aayla let go of them and they all faded back into view.
"Nicely done," whispered Quinlan, "Take a rest, we got it from here."
Aayla responded by quickly slumping against a fallen support pillar. Quinlan closed his eyes, knelt down and placed the palm of his hand on the floor. A confused frown quickly formed on his face.
"Hmm, there was definitely an explosion here. The screaming, the death... people running... it was bad. But..."
"But?" asked Tholme.
"Something's not right... it's... faint."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm not sure, it's almost as if this happened some time ago."
Tholme's brow furrowed. He crossed to the nearest wall and inspected the vines burrowing through it.
"Look at this," he said. Quinlan and Aayla got up and joined him as he held out a vine to them. It was thick, green and had been sliced short.
"They're all like this. The jungle is quick to overtake the land, but this... this is too fast. See where it has been cut back. To make it seem shorter than it was."
"So, you're saying..."
"Yes Aayla, whatever took place here did not happen the day before last. We're talking weeks, maybe even months."
"Access to this site is restricted. Authorised personnel only. Intruders will be shot on sight."
They all looked up to see one of the Hunter-Killer droids walking into the room and levelling an unnecessarily large weapon for a left arm at them.
Quick as a flash, Aayla dived to one side to avoid it's first volley.
Tholme reached out his hand and the droid was thrown into the lobby, firing shots off as it went.
Quinlan ignited his green lightsaber and deflected the shots into the floor as he and Tholme dashed out to meet it.
Suddenly it leapt up, pointing it's blaster arm at Tholme's head.
He quickly ducked under and stepped behind it.
Quinlan dived over the droid as it attempted to shoot him instead, His cloak catching on it's head.
Tholme ignited his own green lightsaber beside the droid's knees and severed them.
It toppled over - still firing incessantly in an arc as it fell. Quinlan made to turn off his lightsaber but the droid began to point it's arm downwards at them, still shooting.
Both Jedi plunged their lightsabers into it's chest. It stopped, falling limp and left only silence.
"We should leave," said Tholme, "The droid will have alerted others even if the firefight didn't. We've learned all we can."
"Yeah but where did Aayla go?" asked Quinlan, looking around in confusion.
His question was answered by the hum of an engine and their air-speeder ploughed through the gates and pulled up by the entrance.
"So we're leaving right?" Aayla called from the driver's seat.
[Troiken's capital, the Qotile system]
Iaco Stark threw open the double doors with as much melodrama as possible and sauntered into the meeting hall, flanked on either side by four representatives from the four largest galactic crime organisations in addition to several scantily clad men and women of varying species. He looked, quite simply, like a complete douche. Mostly due to his cocky expression and the way he held himself. His yellow trench-coat billowed about him as he strode toward the heavy, wooden table between both parties and flicked his ginger hair in a thoroughly pretentious fashion.
"Well this is going to be interesting," he said as he surveyed the six Jedi, Valorum and Gunray. He turned and gestured to the four flanking him, "These are my co-directors – Trodos, representing The Hutt Cartel, I can only imagine that the Hutts themselves found the journey too tiresome a prospect," He indicated a massive Gamorrean with an equally massive war-axe, "Boor-Daa from Black Sun," he gestured to a grumpy-looking Nikto, "Tam Gozon from The Exchange," a lanky Arcona, "and Lom Portom from Sennex," an Advozse who was barely peering over the table, "I'm afraid I can't remember the others' names but they're irrelevant. Eye candy, if you will."
He took his seat opposite Tyvokka, "You will tell me your demands, I will tell you my demands, we will seem to be in an endless deadlock, then I will tell you how this will be resolved."
Siri however was distracted by a sudden sensation. A feeling. Danger. Nearby at that. She ever so slightly nudged Adi's foot with her own. Adi inclined her head marginally towards Siri. She tapped a finger on the wooden conference table - a sequence of taps at that.
It was Mon Calamari blink code.
[What?]
[Danger,] Siri tapped back.
Her senses, as it would happen, were correct. For Gunray had just pressed a hidden button in his mechno-chair's armrest, sending a direct signal to Tarkin.
[The Invincible, space above Eriadu, the Eriadu system]
Jace Dallin, personal aide to Ranulph Tarkin, looked up at the console as it beeped. He was a well-built but young man with short dark hair, olive skin and a smooth face. He was twenty two.
"General Tarkin, we have received the signal from the Neimodian."
"Excellent," came Tarkin's reply, "order the fleet into hyperspace. When we arrive, we will turn that conference into a smouldering pile."
Jace's brow furrowed, "What about the senator? And the Jedi?"
"Irrelevant, Valorum's a fool the galaxy will do better without. As for the Jedi, it is their job to die for the greater good if necessary. The council will just have to find new occupants for their seats. In any case two of them aren't even human."
The engines of the consular-class assault cruiser Invincible roared into life accompanied by those of almost six hundred cruisers, painted in Galactic Republic red and white. Jace recalled that General Tarkin had wanted star-destroyers but had been unable to find a way to build them unnoticed, settling instead for light assault cruisers.
Then in a swirl of blue the fleet shot into hyperspace proudly.
Towards disaster.
[Troiken's capital]
"I'm afraid that none of my entourage speak whatever it is Wookiees speak but we are all wearing earpieces linked to a translation droid," Stark drawled on.
If it's all the same to you, could we cut out the politicking and proceed directly to this resolution you seem so assured of? said Tyvokka.
"You know," said Stark, scratching his chin, "That does sound like a good idea. Okay boys and girls, you heard him."
Suddenly a lot of weaponry was pointed at the Republic party. Obi-Wan reached for his lightsaber but Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.
"Follow Master Tyvokka's lead, Padawan." he muttered.
"Most dangerous 'eye-candy' I've ever seen," said Siri, "Seriously, where'd they even hide those? It's not like they had a lot of clothes to hide anything in."
"That's enough, Siri," said Adi, her eyes darting around the room.
"What is this?" demanded Valorum.
"This, senator, is a trap. It is a fairly rudimentary concept; a situation in which people lie in wait to make a surprise attack. It was originally for my combine but I've decided to change a few things," Stark said as he stood. One of the so-called-eye-candy stepped forward with five glasses filled with water and placed them on the table.
"As we speak, the Republic Army and Navy is travelling through hyperspace towards this meeting-"
"The Republic has no offensive army or navy," said Valorum.
"There is a fleet of ships identifying itself as such headed here right now. Fact. Did you think I would be unaware of this? I head the largest criminal syndicate in the galaxy, my spies are everywhere. This 'summit' is a sham. Bait."
Valorum stared blankly for a moment, completely unable to formulate a response. And then.
"TARKIN! Stark I assure you, his actions are not those of the Republic's. We had no knowledge of his plan."
"One of you must have. The signal to attack came from this chamber," said Stark.
There was a moments pause before everyone slowly turned to look at Gunray.
"I admit nothing," he blustered.
"It doesn't matter anyway. Here's why: we expected this. We created a navicomputer virus, which we piggybacked on that signal. All ships' navicomputers across known space – barring our own of course – have been infected. The only exception is for ships already in hyperspace; quantum mechanics get in the way of the signal. The navicomputers are, put simply, fucked. Without an accurate navicomputer, a percentage of the ships will exit hyperspace into, oh I don't know," Stark picked up one of the glasses, "a planet?"
He dropped the glass onto the floor where it shattered.
"Or a star?"
He levelled a disruptor pistol at another glass and shot it, completely vaporising it.
Suddenly Plo leaned forward, a hand on his head.
"Death, thousands. Thousands are dying," he forced out when he had stabilised himself against the table. A saddened look was creeping onto Adi's face as her eyes momentarily lost focus, Qui-Gon flinched, Tyvokka twitched slightly but Obi-Wan and Siri were unaffected.
"Maybe even the gaping maw of a black hole?" continued Stark.
He nodded to Trodos, who picked up a third glass and crushed it in his hand.
"A large number will emerge safely but in entirely the wrong location. They could attempt to jump again but their odds would be bad," He slid the fourth glass to one end of the table.
"And of course, by sheer fortune, a small number will actually make it here," Stark continued as he slid the final glass across the table in front of Tyvokka, Gunray and Valorum as the Jedi recovered from their upheaval, "But they will find that they have been expected and massively outnumbered by the Combine's forces. They will be destroyed, their fate is sealed. Now here is the resolution: You – and by extension the Republic – are going to unconditionally surrender to us and acquiesce all of our demands. Unless you would rather die?"
"Stark. I assure you that the Republic knew nothing of this fleet-"
Do not waste your breath, senator, Tyvokka cut across Valorum, Tarkin is simply Stark's excuse; this has been planned for a long time. The virus had to have already been created, they had to cripple rival space travel, they had to have a reason. This is not about Tarkin, the Trade Federation or these negotiations. This isn't even about the bacta. Stark has been waiting for an excuse to goad someone into attacking him for some time; this was a trap from the beginning, He leaned forward onto his palms, which were resting on the edge of the table.
"Indeed," said Stark, "very astute Master Jedi. Of course it doesn't change anything. You will surrender, or you will die. The is no other choice."
There is always another choice, said Tyvokka.
And upended the table in Stark's face.