Chapter 62
I pulled back on the Xanadu's hyperdrive control lever and the converted Rogue class stealth ship shot itself back into normal space at the designated emergence point exactly on time. My hands on the control yoke, I yawed and pitched the ship onto our new course and pushed the acceleration hard onto our new vector. I didn't want to give cause for a Coruscant traffic controller to scream over the radio that we were mucking up his schedule.
My relief at just getting back to the ecumenopolis without something getting in the way was palpable.
Yes, I was probably overstating things, but getting away from Mimban after fighting on the ground and in its aerospace for nearly three miserable weeks of near constant combat operations… being in a planetary biome which would have an actual sun over my head and not the constant overcast of that infernal rainforest planet…
I can't believe I'm actually looking forward to being in the 'duracrete jungle' of Coruscant and walking the pristinely silent halls and walkways of the Jedi Temple. Of course, there was no way I could ever say I liked being in Palpatine's Dark Side Shroud, but every good had to come with a bad of some kind.
"Everything's okay, Snips?" Anakin asked as he dropped himself into the co-pilot's chair.
"Fine, master. Just looking forward to being home, dry and actually catching up with the galaxy at large again."
"My hair agrees with you," he joked, ruffling his dark blonde locks, which were looking like they were screaming for a conditioner.
"I can also imagine the amount of flimsiwork waiting for us," I grumbled. Anakin had imposed a com and Holonet blackout whilst we were on the six day journey back to Coruscant, so we could both get some much needed relative solitude and meditate. It meant that we were both refreshed and ready for the next assignment the Jedi Council had for us.
The bad side of that was six days of backlog, mostly involving the 501st and their withdrawal from Mimban. Anakin had arranged for Admiral Yularen to cover for most of it, but there was only so much the naval man could do, when many authorizations actually required the General and Commander of the Legion to sign off on it.
That we could withdraw the 501st at all, was because of the large amount of territory we had essentially 'blitzkrieged' and liberated from the pervasive CIS droid presence. An entire continent had been effectively cleansed and space traffic could resume back and forth from the surface. The 224th would remain for 'mop up' operations.
That was the 'official' line.
The reality was that, as I had predicted, that mop up would take years of grinding warfare, especially now that the CIS droids had finally begun rolling out their reassembled armored formations.
Mimban would become exactly what the CIS wanted - a constant drain on the GAR's resources in the belly of Republic space.
About the only positive I could draw from Mimban was the Liberation Army. They were now a properly structured military force in their own right, who had even started using captured and modified Separatist armored vehicles and hardware. It wasn't even done with any Republic or GAR assistance - it was all in-house. Turns out when you have a planet full of miners who specialized in using remote mining systems and droids, that they were quite adept at fixing broken down and damaged droids. If those droids just happened to be CIS AATs and Hailfire tanks, repurposed to either hold an organic crew or act as drones via remote control… Well, I wasn't going to object.
Taking the weapons of your enemy and turning it against them was a central tenet of guerilla warfare, after all.
I slotted the Xanadu into the traffic pattern and let the ship handle the atmospheric entry, before we were guided into a high altitude lane for starships.
Our Jedi clearance got us into a nice straight dive directly for the Temple hangar complex when our flight path passed overhead.
It wasn't long before we had landed in our assigned bay and I was climbing with a duffle bag over my shoulder, out the Xanadu's upper hatch and into the dry air of Bay 24.
The bay was large enough to house other ships; the bustle of the crews working on them, the occasional Jedi walking around to check on their ship was a mise-en-scène that I appreciated and just absorbed for a moment.
"Come along, Snips," Anakin waved me over.
I vaulted and dropped to the floor, quickly running to catch up with his long strides.
In the turbolift, I enabled my own comlink again with a hint of dread.
Sure enough, I had dozens of messages and numerous holo-communiques that were waiting for my attention. Most of them I could put off to deal with at my leisure, but a number were marked urgent from Mandalore and some I knew were encrypted signals from the Fulcrum network. It was rather daunting just looking at my day just eroding away before me.
"I'm in the same skiff," Anakin commented, looking at his own inbox with a bleak look, before shutting down his comlink.
From the grind of war, to the grind of paperwork.
It was the evening of the second day of our return to Coruscant and I was seated at my own work desk in Anakin's quarters. I had done a bit of reorganization and it was now slid into a corner of the main 'living area', that had a rather nice transparisteel viewport that looked out onto the flat distant cityscape horizon that stretched for over forty kilometers in every direction around the Temple.
It now had all the necessities; a conventional terminal, a large screen datapad that was partially integrated into the desk itself, holo emitters and a few pot plants with a Milla and Rominaria flowers imported straight from Naboo to green the place up a bit.
Far from enjoying a pretty and colorful view of the cityscape while I worked and listened to music streamed directly onto my montrals with specialized 'montralphones', Coruscant's weather control had decided to deliver clouds and rain over a dozen sectors of the planet, which just so happen to include the Jedi Temple.
I was sorely tempted to climb into a speeder and give the Coruscanti minister responsible for atmospheric management a good piece of my mind.
So dense and low were the clouds that my window's visibility was reduced to practically nothing.
Of course, I knew better than to bother the man responsible for keeping roughly a trillion sentients breathing reasonably fresh air every day. If his climate modeling indicated it needed to rain over x amount of the surface for x amount of time, then it was going to happen.
I stopped my meandering thoughts with a snap of will and got back to business.
The 501st had loaded up the last of its equipment back onto the Resolute and was awaiting the final tick on the box from both Anakin and I that they could leave. We had both done the inspections remotely via drones that scuttled about on eight legs and could carry our 'holoselves' anywhere on the ship. The losses in both equipment and personnel in the Mimban campaign had been 'light' for the 501st. That still meant we were pushing casualty rates of 27% over just three weeks, half of which were permanent fatalities.
The only good news on that front was among the clone pilots of the Resolute, which only had losses due to either the inevitable malfunction of a system or B2 rocket droids managing to make it through the defenses. An event which got rarer and rarer as counter-tactics were refined and improved.
Those tactics were also the other thing I was currently busy with - writing a doctrinal paper for the Prefsbelt Naval Academy and Royal Naboo Pilot Institute.
The winds of war and how technology was influencing what was and wasn't possible with a fighter sized craft was rapidly changing. The days of having a fighter with in-line weapons that required the pilot to point his entire craft at a target to shoot it with low fire-rate blaster cannons was coming to a close. The Geonosian Nantex fighter with its turreted laser cannon, was clearly pointing the way forward. Combined with concussion missile pods and improving ECM warfare, it was increasingly clear that the fighter force that could deal with these threats and dish it out better than their opponents would be the ones with the clear advantage.
In that respect, I considered even my new Fang fighter to be obsolete already.
I already had plans cooked up in my head for improvements and changes to it, but which I would not share except for a select few back on Mandalore. These improvements wouldn't come in time for the Clone Wars, but would be functional to potentially confront Palpatine's Empire.
Improvements like three turreted cannons on a larger Fang fighter with even more powerful yet compact shielding, along with a hyperdrive that would give the future Millenium Falcon a run for its money. Not only would it eat TIE fighters for breakfast, and X-Wings for lunch, its main course was destined to be the Yuuzhan Vong coralskipper fighter.
On that happy note, Anakin walked into his quarters with a chipper spring in his step that could mean only one thing.
I kept writing and simply asked one question before he could even open his mouth.
"So what is our excuse for meeting the senator?"
He huffed at being preempted like that and folded his arms, "She wants to discuss something related to the latest affair that's gotten the Senate's undergarments in a twist and would like my opinion on how the Jedi Council will respond. Not to mention exposing you to more of the Senate's inner workings."
Not that I needed it, but we couldn't exactly say it out loud.
The Republic Senate's latest item on the agenda very much affected the war effort, therefore it was only natural that the Jedi at least had an interest in directly observing the affair.
That was how both Anakin and I ended up standing at an overlook a few hours later that gave a nice view of the entire bowl-like internal structure of the Republic Senate. Listening to senators prattle on about this or that, debate endlessly on the smallest minutia of policy language and occasionally scream, boo and moan in complaint.
The acoustics of the Senate chamber meant that it quickly became a cacophony of noise that forced me to put a Kinetic bubble around my head to dampen it.
Currently on the agenda, which was attracting interest from many parties across the Republic and undoubtedly from the CIS - the true cost of the war.
"Order! Order!" shouted Vice Chair Mas Amedda to the entire assembly. Surrounding the podium were nearly half a dozen senators, on their individual floating podiums, trying to get their chance. At the center of it all, was Palpatine himself. He was in a light brown outfit with an elegantly cut and patterned dark burgundy outer robe. The man needed to just add a bloody lightsaber and he'd pass for a Jedi. He held a mild smile on his face as he observed the squabbling senators and his eyes seemed to scream that he was hatching some cunning scheme or was humoring everyone around him. His hands, held folded together in a 'wise man' pose added just that perfect final touch to the mask he was currently wearing. Finally, the volume died enough for Amedda to speak further, "Let Senator Saam finish his point. All participants will get their chance."
Senator Gume Saam, an Ishi Tib and representing the Techno Union, was yet another example of technically having the 'enemy' under your roof. An enemy who wore the fair cloak of neutrality, simply because they were so critical to the economies of both the Republic and CIS.
KDY, Sienar Systems, BlasTech Industries, the premiere suppliers of the GAR, technically fell under the Techno Union banner. Baktoid Armor and Combat Automata, held the same role for the CIS. Naturally, the Union could hardly hold an overt, all hands, in-person meeting these days. Not without either side screaming treason, but nothing stopped under-the-table dealings.
Saam cleared his throat, "This is not a matter of philosophy but practicality. The casualty figures are clear. If we want to have any defenses left, if we want to stop the Separatists from gaining more ground, we need more troops."
"Senator Organa," Amedda prompted.
"What we cannot afford is to be irresponsible. The war has seen government spending going through record levels and the Republic is verging on the cusp of bankruptcy."
Once again, that set the fox among the hens, as hundreds of senators began shouting in objection. Most of them could only think of what that would mean for themselves and not their constituents. On the other side of that spectrum, were those who were truly fearful for their people and worlds. As the Republic was a lifeline that ensured their economies could even function and their worlds would quickly become unsustainable without a financially solvent Republic.
That there were so many of the latter worlds was the result of stupid, idealistic policies enacted more than a century ago, finally coming home to roost. People had been encouraged to surge into the Expansion Region and Outer Rim, form colonies and settle. Hardly a thought was given to sustainability, income generation, import, export, or economies of scale. Big daddy Republic would always be there in the background to keep the boats afloat.
"Order! The chair recognizes Senator Dod."
"Bankruptcy is not necessary," said the Trade Federation representative simply. "Senator Saam's bill is exactly the remedy for this. It will allow the Republic to open new lines of credit and gain access to the needed funds."
I listened with a feeling of inevitability. Anyone in the entire galaxy who had a bank account with the Banking Clans and managed it themselves would be able to predict that this moment would come.
The Republic only taxed its citizens and member worlds at a set level. A level that had been practically set in stone since the Ruusan Reformation. It had been adjusted on only a few occasions over the last thousand years. The last time it happened was just over 150 years ago, which had been a downward revision, but each adjustment had required decades of debate before it had gotten the required amount of support in the Senate.
The idea that the Republic would be able to increase taxes within the scope of the war was laughable.
So it did what was expedient and easy, it borrowed from the Banking Clans.
That borrowing was regulated, specifying the amount that could be borrowed over a certain period of time. Saam's bill was essentially to strike down those regulations, giving the Republic a freer hand to borrow.
It wasn't long before yet another shouting match erupted as senators argued about the deregulation.
My own mind was tuning them out mostly and I was debating with myself on the wisdom of bringing this idea forward and to whom would be the best. Prescience wasn't helping on this long term problem, this deep in the Shroud, but all I knew was that this galaxy needed to militarize and bloody well grow technologically. The last two hundred years had been characterized by stagnation on that front. Hyperdrive speeds had not increased. The standard of living for the core worlds was generally high, but stayed that way, with no improvements and as many worlds in the Expansion Region had increased the quality of life for their citizens, other worlds had outright degraded. The Outer Rim held many beacons of civilization, but was otherwise a lawless, degrading mess.
In this respect, I found myself actually agreeing with Palpatine.
Finally, a welcome voice cut through the chaos.
"Members of the Senate, do you hear yourselves?" Padme asked rhetorically as her podium flew forward. The squabbling died down very quickly. How she could command this massive room sometimes with her charisma was quite impressive. "More money, more clones, more war! Say nothing of fiscal responsibility, what about moral responsibility? Hasn't this war gone on long enough?"
Padme, that is not a line that will fly with the majority of assholes facing you, I thought wryly.
"Senator Amidala," Saam's beaky face couldn't scowl, but his two stalked eyes with cat-like pupils were pulled together in an Ishi Tib equivalent. "Are you suggesting we surrender to the Separatists?"
"Of course not," she retorted in an obvious tone. "Negotiation might be an avenue worth pursuing, however. Projections indicate that the Separatists are also feeling the financial strain of this war."
"Negotiation is impossible with those animals!" shouted another senator. I couldn't recognize his species offhand but the undercurrent attitude identified him either as representative of a world that had suffered direct attack or he was simply a warhawk. "Keep the war going! Vote! Vote!"
That set off the chamber for a few moments with similar chants.
"Order! Order!" Amedda shouted them down. "Senator Organa has a motion."
"Members of the Senate, I suggest we table this bill until it has been thoroughly researched and determined whether deregulation is the right course of action."
The suggestion swept through the chamber and seemed to find root among the majority of the moderates, whilst the rest followed suit, seeing the way the political winds were blowing. It was a master stroke from Bail, who neatly used the political tendency to stall and filibuster a decision for later to his own advantage. The only ones who didn't like this were the warhawks and war profiteers, but their extremist nature made them quickly fall into the minority.
"The motion is passed," Amedda declared eventually. "Next order of business."
I pulled out a small disposable datapad and quickly began tapping out my idea on it.
"Taking notes, Snips?" Anakin asked with amusement. "Oh dear, I recognize that face."
I gave him a wry unimpressed look before continuing to rapidly type into the pad. The Senate session was dismissed roughly two hours later, just before local midnight, but I was in place and ready to intercept the intended recipient of my little idea.
Bail Organa walked off his docked podium and he smiled as he saw me waiting for him.
"Padawan Tano! Good to see you again."
"Senator Organa," I bowed in Alderaanian custom.
"What brings you to the Senate this lovely evening?"
"Oh, just observing the session. My master thought it would be a good learning experience to see the repulsors of government in action."
Bail chuckled, "For someone your age, I imagine it was most engaging." He gestured for me to walk by his side. "Come, I can see you have something to discuss. Let's go to my office."
Our walk was slow and in no particular hurry. Late nights in the Senate were a common thing for him, so I didn't even bother to enquire in that direction. I could sense he was tired, that he'd like nothing better than to get in bed, but he was willing to postpone it for me.
"How are things at home?"
"Good, though whether it will remain that way, is still up for debate," he said. Translation: The situation with the Compeer and House Rist was still ongoing. He didn't feel optimistic about it either.
It was a few minutes walk and a number of turbolifts before we reached the long circular string of offices that senators stayed in during their on-duty hours. As Alderaan was a major Republic world, Bail's office rated a place of prominence and included a wonderful view of the surrounding cityscape of the Senate district.
He sat down behind his desk with a deep sigh, then briefly closed his eyes before rubbing his face in some form of half-exercise/half-ritual to keep himself alert and focused. "Now, Padawan, what's on your mind?"
I handed over the datapad, containing a full description of my idea, including a reasonably detailed proposal on the particulars. "In regards to the finances of the war."
Bail gave me a surprised look before picking it up and he began reading.
While he did so, I was pacing with hands folded behind my back and carefully sensing for any listening devices in the office. The one in the desk's light fixture panel was so obvious that it had to be from the security services of the building. With a small twist of will, it was shorted out into malfunctioning.
Other than that, the place was clean.
It didn't take Bail long to read through it and he was clearly digesting a few novel concepts I had included.
Eventually he put down the pad and stared out of the office window. "It's an intriguing idea, padawan. I just wish its application could've been for something other than war."
"It's entirely possible to apply it during peacetime as well, senator. There are major infrastructure works in the public interest that could be undertaken using this approach, which will not have to strain the treasury or borrow from the Banking Clans and stomach their exorbitant interest rates."
"They'll object to this being tried," Bail tapped the pad.
"Only the short-sighted ones, the beauty of this, is that it also actually benefits the banks in the medium to long term. The Republic itself is a customer, after all, with many thousands of specific accounts for its various departments. The amount of transactions this will create, along with the broad consolidation of funds from across the Republic, from across all the social spectrums is staggering. You saw the estimated numbers, senator. We'd probably still have to open those new credit lines with the Banking Clans, in the short term, just to remain solvent, but with this in the works… our borrowing from them will be significantly reduced, if not entirely eliminated."
"You're effectively putting the Republic in debt to its citizens with this, isn't there a danger that we're just deferring the money crisis to after the war."
I smiled, "That's why you issue these financial instruments with a series of staggered maturities over time. In that way…"
Bail smirked as realization entered his mind, "You avoid having to pay them out all at once. I especially like how you're giving the Republic a figurative lightsaber to hang over their heads as well. They either provide reasonable rates or we just go to the public."
"It's my own personal belief that corporations have no business being in the Senate chamber. If I had my way, I'd kick out the lot of them, tell them to stick to making products that satisfy their customers, pay their taxes and kriff off."
He laughed with delight and slapped his hand on the table. "Oh, padawan. A dangerous opinion and one I have come to share of late. The commerce guilds have just always been in the Senate. The sheer notion that they should not… Are you sure you don't want to become a senator one day?"
"It's Jedi Masters who are renowned for their patience, senator," I said primly. I could just imagine myself going Darth Vader on a number of them within the first few weeks. "The only reason the corps are there in the first place is because they were so vital to Outer Rim development a hundred years ago, not to mention I'm sure quite few votes were outright bought by them."
For all the idealism of the chancellor of that era, she was painfully naive and had no idea of the monster her policies would eventually spawn. She also fell victim to the old Soviet style fallacy that economic policy and law would magically change the sentient condition.
"Then the only remaining issue is selling the public on this idea. They are after all the ones who will be buying these 'War Bonds'."
"I can think of no better people than COMPOR to market this to the public. They're already fighting against CIS propaganda, they can now appeal to the patriotic spirit of the citizens. Give them the sense that even though they can't or even won't pick up a blaster to fight on the front lines, they can financially support those who do. The fact that there's no interest payments on these bonds should discourage the very rich and affluent from trying to game the system. You're not buying a War Bond to get rich, you're buying one because you want a gun in the hand of the soldier fighting for you, his belly full and the ship he is on, well maintained."
"In this case we are also buying the existence of that soldier," Bail said evenly.
"Correct, which should get the Kaminoans, the war profiteers and zealots neatly on board with this idea. If they can see beyond their own noses."
Bail chuckled, "I will have to study this idea of yours further, padawan. I agree with it in spirit, especially its peacetime potential. Do you mind if I share it with a few select advisors of mine back on Alderaan? Have them study its feasibility."
"Not at all. I only ask that you don't take too long, senator."
He nodded, "I can understand the urgency. Very well, you've provisionally convinced me. If all goes well with the research, I will personally move forward on a bill that will see the Republic issue these."
A soft chime echoed throughout the office and I immediately sensed that Anakin and Padme were outside.
"Enter," called Bail.
I just had to take one look at them both to know that there was 'trouble in paradise'.
"Senator Organa," Anakin smiled and bowed politely.
"Knight Skywalker, come to fetch your errant padawan?" Bail's brown eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Not entirely," Anakin admitted and glanced at Padme wearily.
"Ahsoka," Padme greeted me warmly, giving a subtle glare at her secret husband. "Bail."
"Senator, good to see you again," I bowed and rumbled around in my mind what I was sensing from them, trying to understand.
"Do you mind if I borrow a moment of your time in private?" She even gave me a subtle hand signal, which meant that she wanted to talk about very critical stuff, that was not even for the ears of Bail Organa.
"Not at all. Senator Organa, thank you for making time to see me."
"No, no, my friends, relax." He stood and gestured at the office space magnanimously. "I need to get home, feel free to use it for as long as you like."
"Thank you, Bail," Padme smiled at her colleague.
When the Alderaanian senator had left and the door closed behind him-
"We can speak relatively freely, the security surveillance is disabled," I said immediately.
"I was rather counting on that," Padme said with a wry smile. "Ever the spy."
"Ahsoka, tell her no," Anakin blurted out in haste and began pacing in agitation.
"Oh this is going to be good if it's got you acting like this, master."
"Ignore him, he's just being overprotective," Padme declared. "Ideally I need both your help to pull this off but Anakin is being… himself."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked with outrage.
"Relax master, it means you're acting as you should," I signed 'as a husband' to him with my right hand. "Now, Senator, what is this request?"
"This war can't end unless both sides are at least talking to each other. Now that can't happen officially, because even communicating with any senator or official from the CIS is illegal. It would recognize and legitimize them as a politically separate entity, which the Senate refuses to do."
"So you want to make it happen unofficially?"
"Yes."
"And is there a senator on the other side that won't throw you in a CIS prison?"
"Yes, her name is Mina Bonteri, senator from Onderon and she was one of my personal mentors when I was still new in my own position here. We are very good friends, but I haven't spoken to her since the war began and her planet seceded."
So time marched on and this moment had finally caught up with me. Did I dare say that this was going to lead to the death of her friend and mentor? That her good intentions will cause Sidious to sign a death warrant for Bonteri - so she would be killed in a 'Republic attack' and inflame the people of the CIS. That Padme's entire peace initiative would only be used as more kindling for the fires of war.
This… was an opportunity.
"Very well, I think it's a good idea and I'll help make this happen, Padme."
"Are you kidding, Snips?" Anakin gritted his teeth. "You're talking about smuggling ourselves through enemy lines all the way to Raxus itself, the Separatist Parliament world."
"It can be done, Skyguy," I shrugged nonchalantly.
"Of course it can, don't mince words. If we're discovered…" He didn't want to finish the thought.
"There's also the question of whether we can undertake the journey secretly. It's eleven days one way."
"I have many personal leave days piled up that I'm not using up any time soon," Padme argued. "You've both returned from the front recently, so surely the Jedi Council won't be sending you out so soon. Not while the 501st is still in transit back to Coruscant."
"We could do most of our work remotely, at least until we were near the front lines, master."
"The Resolute will be back in five days roughly, she took no damage, so her turnaround time and restock will be three days at worst," Anakin reasoned. "No, there is only one way this works. I have to stay and I have discretion to assign you where I think you'll learn the most, therefore I have decided that you will learn the fine art of Senate politics from Padme for the next… twenty five days."
"Politics is a rather lengthy subject to study after all," Padme smirked at her husband, her eyes looking slightly 'steamy'. "There's so much involved in it and if I just so happen to take leave to visit a good friend I haven't seen in a long time, then Ahsoka will just have to come with."
I pointedly cleared my throat to remind the two lovebirds of exactly where they were.
"If we're going to do this, the logistics have to be worked out, senator. We will both need to be suitably disguised and under pseudonyms. You cannot send even an encrypted hint of a message to Bonteri that we will be coming. It must be a complete surprise. If the enemy gets even a whiff of what we are attempting-"
"I understand, Ahsoka," she raised her hands in a placating gesture, seeing how intensely I was speaking.
"Good. We can't take the Xanadu, because it'll be missed." I tapped my vambrace and a holomap appeared of the north-eastern sectors of the galaxy, my fingers swiped through it and I inputted some search parameters. "We can leave using Padme's ship officially, then head to Mandalore, where I can procure a suitable ship that will fit our disguises. Our next destination will be here, Indu San is a neutral world and part of the CNS. We park the new ship there, then catch an onward passenger transport into CIS space. Crossing the border should also pose no real problems."
"So it's decided then," Padme smiled with satisfaction.
"Don't make me regret agreeing to this," Anakin said. "Snips-"
"You don't need to say it, master."
"Good."
Such was the secrecy of our trip that I even convinced Padme to ditch Captain Typho - by putting him on leave back to Naboo to see his own family. Typho naturally did not leave without giving me the bodyguard equivalent of a shovel speech.
"She is a guest of Clan Vizsla. I could mobilize an entire moon of Mandalorians to come to her defense if it came down to it."
Gregar Typho just continued to give me a one-eyed stare for a long moment, "I'll hold you to that."
The ship we would be using for the initial leg was a new one from the Theed Palace Space Engineering Corps and reflected the turbulent galaxy around us. It was a substantially modified J-Type Star Skiff that featured two top mounted laser cannon turrets. Actual weapons on a Naboo starship!
Its overall design was the usual aesthetic brilliance from the Theed SEC, a curving swept wing design with underslung Sossen-7 sublight engines in nacelles, giving the ship a stupendous power to mass ratio, allowing it to push 3500Gs. It could outrun Vulture droids but not the newest Tri-fighters in normal space. It also had a hyperdrive that carried that magical 0.5 rating.
Further sacrifices had to be made in crew accommodations and luxury to shave further weight off the design. It had only space for a total of six; pilot, navigator, gunner and three passengers. The cockpit was mounted at the rear of the craft and raised above the main center of mass, giving the pilot an excellent panoramic view of space that clearly had roots from starfighter design philosophy.
The thing was a dream to fly and doubly so because it was set-up to let Padme easily fly it by herself. She was many things, she could technically fly a Naboo N-1 starfighter, but being a dedicated fighter pilot was far down her list of priorities.
"I haven't sat in a starfighter for almost a year, Ahsoka, and even then it was training just enough to fly in general formation with other fighters and a diplomatic barge," she said, staring into the roiling tunnel of hyperspace, lost in memory, as we powered away from Coruscant on the first leg of our journey.
"But you would be able to control the guns?"
"Of course," she nodded idly. "I'll run some simulations to sharpen me up as we travel in hyper."
I wasn't foreseeing any threat on the route to the Mandalore sector, but it never hurt to be prepared.
The nice thing about this new J-Type was our total travel time estimate to Raxus being shortened by nearly three days.
By the time I landed Padme's ship in Clan Vizsla's estate on Concordia, our next ship for our disguised personas was already waiting for us.
It was a used Lancer-class pursuit craft, the former owner of which had been a high value, low volume freighter pilot who had kept a good record plying his trade in the Mandalore sector. His luck had run out though and pirates flagged him as a 'target of interest'. The resulting ambush damaged the primary hyperdrive enough that it needed a full replacement. Combined with the high value of the contract he had bungled, it left him completely cash strapped and he had no choice but to sell off the ship.
It was also somewhat pretentious of the guy, even if he was a Mandalorian, to have named his ship Basilisk and it probably contributed slightly to the pirates choosing him.
Any Mando worth their salt knew of the ancient history and significance of that name; as it was given to the fearsome war droids that the Mandalorians literally rode into combat during the time of the Old Republic.
To fit our new identities, the ship was now renamed to the Pioneer, a new stock Hyperdrive fitted with a rating of 1.0, whilst the sensor suite and navicomputer was upgraded to models that were more appropriate for the job of our personas, which included some portable equipment.
Padme was now Dishan Bridma, an explorer and academic from the Iskaayuma Academy of Rodia, whilst I was Naala Taan, the top ranking student of her class. The two were setting out on an astronomical survey of the north-east Outer Rim, aiming their sensors out of the galaxy to record the celestial galaxies in that direction.
Organizing the identities was a piece of cake for Hermione and the Fulcrum network's steadily growing group of slicers. They worked under the official umbrella of Corusca Online in their day jobs, whilst moonlighting as Fulcrum slicers.
We spent a full day on Concordia to get our wardrobe and other small touches sorted out. Rodian high fashion was always some form of bright purple and various pastel shades of burgundy red and yellow, with tunics, form fitting jackets and puffy pants. Not my favorite fashion, considering how stuffy it felt.
I had to also invent a new lekku, montral and facial pattern, including getting a stuffed bra and subtle hip extensions, to help further differentiate my body type from that of Ahsoka Tano.
Padme dyed her long hair into a light blonde, changed her eye color to blue with a set of contacts that held tiny diodes, which would allow on-the-fly color changes with the push of a button. This was combined with a new makeup scheme and removing the characteristic mole on her left cheek.
She still looked great, but you definitely couldn't tell anymore that she was Padme Amidala from a distance.
The final bit of disguise we had to adopt was more than just skin deep. A small implant into our left hands that would hijack and fool any close range scanner for DNA.
The CIS border wasn't so tightly shut that they could have these at every civilian travel checkpoint in their space, but Raxus was another story.
It was the parliament world that held all the former Republic senators and representatives who were now forming the new political union. Security as a result was quite high, but it wasn't on the level of Serreno. It wasn't a world that was truly a crucial 'center of gravity' for the CIS, but that didn't mean that Republic Intelligence was just going to ignore it. The CIS parliament had to be kept updated on military affairs and the potential for striking intel gold was there.
The second leg of our journey began with the much slower Pioneer, and we both used the time to refresh and educate ourselves to the point where we could pass ourselves off as astronomers interested in extra-galactic space.
It would take three days along the Salin Corridor hyperlane heading galactic east before we reached Indu San.
The world of just over a billion humans were only technically part of the Republic and had quickly joined the CNS when it became apparent that there was no way they would survive economically to cut themselves off from either the new CIS and Republic economies. They were not as yet self-sufficient, the war hitting the galaxy just a decade before they could've told either side to take a hike. Their primary export was high value gemstones that were sought after all over the galaxy. The proceeds of which had been reinvested into infrastructure and high technology, to eventually build a world that would be a jewel of independent civilization in the Outer Rim.
Our stopover here was barely a few hours, before we had to hurry with our portable astronomy equipment to a passenger/cargo ship that was bound for Raxus.
The ship took four days to finish traversing the Salin Corridor, before turning north-east along the uppermost reaches of the Perlemian Trade Route hyperlane.
It was here that we had our first inspections from the CIS Navy.
Not any of the big capital ships, who were all tied up along the front lines. No, this flank was tied up with only a handful of Recusants supported by numerous Pursuer-class enforcement ships. Awfully designed, blocky ships that were nevertheless good at their jobs and produced by MandalMotors, a production contract that was honored until the Mandalore sector declared the CIS as enemies.
It was moments like this that I both hated hyperspace and loved it. Give me just a small half squadron of Venators and I could smash open a new front here, but no, the hyperspace lane couldn't handle that. At best, with creative navigation and mass management I could squeeze through two Venators at once, only to be promptly smashed into pieces by a CIS Navy that was ready for me with homefield advantage, their spies and listening stations having long since detected my approach.
My kingdom for any of the other FTL technologies I could name from other universes.
Having endured a general scan for contraband and a squad of B1s merely patrolling up and down the ship, then logging the passenger manifest and physically checking it, we were cleared through the border of CIS space.
Our next stop was the Lianna system a day later, where another scan and cargo inspection took place.
Then at Desevro merely twenty hours later, another passenger inspection and an extra scan of our astronomical equipment just to make sure they weren't for use in 'spying'. Both Padme and I had the opportunity to thoroughly befuddle the B1 droid inspector with the knowledge and technical details of our equipment.
"Uh, I'm sure it's fine, ma'ams. I don't detect a Holonet connection or long range transceivers. Thank you for your patience." It returned its scanner into the dedicated port on its lower back before marching off.
The Perlimian Route made a small detour to avoid a black hole at this point, before we finally turned south-east onto a narrow hyper corridor that was locally known as the Raxus Run.
Fourteen hours later the cargo ship was emerging from hyper into a high orbit of Raxus Secundus itself.
From orbit it was a beautiful world. If I looked quickly I could almost imagine I was looking at old Earth itself. The continents were shaped differently, but the water to land ratio was eerily similar; the atmosphere, the way the clouds were seemingly drawn across the planet, the weather. It was a very rich, fertile world, with forests, hills, plains, and massive oceans. It was no wonder that it had been chosen to house the Separatist parliament.
Who wouldn't be content when surrounded by such beauty.
The planet had numerous large cities, but the Raxians were careful to preserve the beauty of their world. Just looking at the cosmopolitan nature of who called the place home - it was a melting pot of the major species of the galaxy, all who could trace their families back to some sort of Outer Rim colonist; aqualish, bith, gossam, gotal, human, twi'lek, to name a few.
That independent, pioneering culture and attitude would be passed down and eventually coalesce into what we were witnessing today. A new nation being born. That was the perspective of the average CIS citizen.
It was just such a shame that it had been all given form by the machinations of the Sith, picking up the pieces of the Republic's failed Outer Rim policies.
Our ship was scanned a final time before clearance for deorbit was given and after riding a slow five minute bumpy ride of aerobraking through the atmosphere, the cargo ship eventually landed in the primary spaceport of Raxulon - the capital city of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.
We managed to make it through spaceport security with our cover identities intact and merged into the bustle of the city.
On the surface it looked like a mini-Coruscant only with much more green and natural plant life artfully integrated onto the roofs and sidewalks. I found myself also enjoying the look of the architecture; everything was arched or had arches of some type, even the facades and decor. Some buildings even reminded me of high tech versions of late Renaissance churches on old Earth but with modern materials.
The sheer variety of people of every immigrated species just going about their day without worry and the mood I was sensing from them; you couldn't imagine that these people even knew there was a war going on. A fight for their very existence as a nation and their own freedom.
We used our access to the local planetary Holonet to find a suitable hotel and booked ourselves into a modest room, since our cover demanded we be cash strapped academics.
We dumped our luggage onto our separate beds and Padme began automatically unpacking.
"Well, we've arrived," she commented pointedly to me.
"It's all right, the room isn't bugged, no one is paying attention to us, we haven't tripped any security flags," I announced.
"You've been rather reticent in explaining our plan," she opened the closet and began hanging up her travel outfits.
"It's not like I have a direct line to RI reports about Raxus Secundus, we're going to need to do a recon of our own before we even approach your friend."
Padme frowned in realization, "You think she's being watched?"
"If CIS Intel doesn't have an entire surveillance team on each of their senators here on Raxus, including extensive bugging of their residences, then I question their competence."
"Naala, I know my friend, including a lot of the other senators that seceded here, they wouldn't stand for being under that level of surveillance," Padme objected.
"You assume they know or have any choice in the matter if they do know," I shook my head sadly. "From the CIS point of view, many of these senators, despite declaring they have seceded from the Republic and whatever they may say publicly against it, still have friends and sympathies for their loyalist colleagues on the other side." I didn't have to point out that it was the exact thing we were exploiting here. "No, Dishan, to approach your friend openly is to sign her death warrant."
Padme whirled on me with wide frightened eyes that quickly turned to anger, "You knew this already for sure, yet-"
"If CIS Intel knows you are here, then the enemy will know within less than a day. It will require no giant leap of logic for him to then deduce why you are here, given the remarks you gave before the Senate."
Padme stepped away from the closet and sat down slowly with a huff before cradling her head in her own hands. Her emotions were a frothing cauldron at this point and her smart mind was quick to begin piecing things together. She looked up and her eyes were haunted. "I know Mina, she would jump at the chance for negotiated peace talks to begin. She hates conflict as much as I do. If we both bring our proposals before the Senate and CIS Parliament… then the enemy will know anyway, all the war profiteers, the banks, they'd…"
"They will stop at nothing to prevent the possibility of peace," I said grimly. "It's already begun on the Republic's side. At some point in the next week, a sabotage attack will occur on Coruscant by disguised CIS droids, smuggled directly onto the planet. This is to stoke fear among the Senate and help Saam's bill go through despite a rally of concerted opposition that Bail will organize. The same technique will be applied to the CIS parliament. Your friend will be killed in a 'Republic attack' after she brings forward her peace proposals. Naturally, the actual attack will be done by disguised agents of Count Dooku, who is merely doing as the enemy commands. The moderates on both sides will see that the other side can't be trusted and they will flock to the warmongers banner."
Her temper was severely tested as I laid out the current trajectory of the probability line. She stood and stepped in front of me, her eyes burning in anger, her lips pursed, jaw muscles flexing and her hands opened and closed quickly. She began pacing back and forth in front of me, clearly wanting to slap me but impressively resisting with all her will.
"Why are we even here, Naala?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Note I said, we can't see your friend openly. I didn't say anything about not seeing her covertly."
"What would that even accomplish then? If she can't even…" She trailed off as her mind began deducing more. She stared at me with wide eyes and gave a slight hysterical laugh. "You… you want to recruit her into…"
I stared into her eyes with the full weight of my presence in the Force.
If there was one rule I made sure that everyone in the Fulcrum network swore by, then it was that you do not talk about the network's existence, even if you knew you were in private with another member or on any communication medium.
She quickly looked away, somewhat chastised. "Right, so… how do we covertly see her?"
"That will require me to go on a recon of her home and the surrounding area, so a plan can be devised. It will take a few hours, so in the meantime, act according to our cover identities, play tourist, deploy the equipment on the roof when night falls, and be an astronomer."
I turned around and headed for the hotel room door, wanting to give Padme some space immediately.
"Naala." My hand paused on the door controls as her voice reached me. "Can her life be saved?"
"This is war. As long as we can bring her into recruitment and she does not make any mention of peace in a public setting, then she will remain beneath the notice of the enemy."
Mina opened her eyes and awoke to another beautiful day on Raxus.
The local avian species were cheerily singing with the arrival of the morning, the air was crisp and fresh and she wished she could just close her eyes and stay in the very comfortable bed.
She wished she could just ignore the day ahead.
A day filled with just sitting in that parliament and growing more and more disillusioned. A day of just reading more reports from the front lines, clinically stating the amount of losses among the Navy in both droids and personnel. Reading statements from the Navy and Count Dooku that everything was going to plan. How unsustainable the Republic's position was and that it was only a matter of time before the steel of the droid grinded the flesh of the clone into submission.
It was also another day of confronting the empty void in her heart left by the death of her husband. His warmth in her bed forever denied to her by the cold engine of war - at the blasterpoint of brainwashed clones.
She knew a year ago that Onderon walking this path would not be easy, that there would have to be sacrifices. In her darkest nightmares she never imagined that Kavah would die. That was what the droids were for after all! He would command and never be in the line of fire!
Yet cruel fate decided otherwise.
Now she had to raise a son alone.
She could only count her blessings that her dear Lux was many things, but a fighter or soldier he was not. He was a clever and handsome boy, who believed in the cause. He would be a great leader in the CIS one day, leading Onderon alongside King Rash into a golden age free of the burdensome yoke of the bloated Republic and its corruption.
She steadily worked up the final bits of will to throw the heavy covers off and get out of bed.
A short ten minutes in the Refresher and she was back in her closet trying to decide what to wear for the day.
The stately light blue dress was always a favorite of hers; comfortable, elegant, practical. The longest part in her routine was the makeup. The years were marching on and already she had the first hint of gray at the edges of her short hair. Then a last minute touch up to make sure the traditional Onderonian tattoo sleeves around her neck and arms were up to her own standards.
She adorned her best outward 'mask'. The one that showed no weakness or weariness. That she was confident and everything was going to be alright. A face that she would wear for Lux until her last breath.
Then she walked out of the bedroom and into the large palatial house afforded to her.
Lux's bedroom door was still firmly closed, no doubt sleeping a little late again after deadening his alarm. He would be down soon enough, answering the call of that void he called a stomach.
Entering the kitchen, she noted that it was distinctly empty.
Ana wasn't here.
The chief of her household staff was usually the first to rise. Her delectable cooking skills hard at work, wafting the entire house full of heavenly scents, yet now she was also sleeping in.
"Odd," she mumbled to herself and began searching the pantry to whip something up for both herself and Lux.
Soon strips of ruping meat were searing on the stove and she idly stirred and shoved the meat around to ensure an even distribution of heat. It was nice to occasionally work in the kitchen again.
It was at this point that something struck her as… missing or off? Yet, when she tried to focus on what it could be, it slipped from her mental fingers, as if she was trying to grab a cloud. Eventually she shrugged it off and returned her focus to the food.
In a haze of working on autopilot, she soon had two plates of breakfast ready; ruping meat with sauce, bread, and a succulent purple king's crown fruit, neatly sliced.
She turned around with plates in hand towards the central kitchen table and gasped with fright. So startled was she that the food went flying into the air and not a few moments later, the plates thumped onto the hard kitchen floor.
She clutched at her chest, trying to get her breath back and also trying to make sense of what her eyes were telling her.
Padme was sitting there at the head of the table with an apologetic expression. Her former protege was also not alone, as standing right behind her was a teenage togruta Jedi, her two lightsabers gleaming in the morning sun on her hips, whilst wearing a rather daring outfit.
Padme was looking as beautiful as ever, as if the past year of war had not happened at all. Her brown hair was resplendent and glowing. Her face was vital and her golden dress flowing around her, with cleavage on prominent display.
"Hello Mina, sorry for the fright and popping in like this," Padme smiled, gesturing to the room with raised palms.
Mina blinked and shook her head, "Padme? Is that you? What? How?"
"Yes, it's me. The how, well, I'll leave that for Padawan Tano to explain," she gestured to the togruta behind her. "It's quite difficult to even believe, but… you'll understand soon enough."
Mina rallied her thoughts, "Padme dear, being here is not wise at all. I know we haven't spoken or seen each for a long while but-"
Padme raised a hand to gently interrupt, "I know, Mina. I know. This had to be done, now."
"Why my dear? Traveling thousands of lightyears through hostile space, sneaking past thousands of droids and men that would arrest you, imprison you and throw away the key?"
Padme gave a brief glance to the togruta behind her, who nodded in answer at a silent question. "Mina, the Republic and the CIS are puppets in this war. Your fight for independence has already been usurped."
She heard the words but it failed completely to make sense at all!
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
"My dear Padme, what nonsense has this Jedi shoved into your head?"
Her friend chuckled weakly, "A more appropriate metaphor would be she pulled aside a curtain of the stage and showed me the strings."
"Senator Bonteri, a pleasure to meet you," said the Jedi, who bowed, then reached for her pocket and produced a small holoprojector onto the kitchen table. "I think it would be best, if you sit down for this."
The holo flared into existence and displayed a flat screen. Prominently featured was Count Dooku, walking slowly beside a slightly smaller man, dressed and cloaked in black, his face mostly hidden in shadow, with only a slightly prominent chin and nose catching what little light there was for the visual sensor.
"Dooku might seem like he is leading you and the CIS, Senator Bonteri. Yet even he is just a servant, carrying out the will of his Sith Master."
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