Chapter 1
Planet Coruscant – Kallus Family Penthouse
The news of war had essentially rocked the Kallus household. Aerin Kallus had found it difficult to return home from the Coruscant government center as a senior member of Galactic City board of directors. Military appropriations for previously civilian industrial zones were being requested hourly for construction or repurposing for military manufacturing centers. BlasTech Industries, Incom, Kuat Drive Yards, Rothana Heavy Engineering, and others were all coming forward, offering to develop vast complexes to the galactic capital. Negotiations needed to be conducted with the Senate Military Oversight Committee and the Chancellor to see to it that Coruscanti companies got the contracts for the construction of said facilities and for the local population of Coruscant to get the benefits of hundreds of thousands of new skilled and unskilled jobs. War was being prepped for, and so far, the Republic had a long way to go to play catch-up with the might of the mammoth droid armies of the Separatists.
This topic had the young Alexsandr Kallus deep in thought as he sat at the dinner table with his parents, quiet and contemplative, hardly touching his soup which sat, steaming on its conduction heating plate to keep it at ideal serving temperature. He knew that his father was doing some very important work, and his mother gave him a degree of help with that. But young Kallus was at a crossroads of what he would do with his life. He had graduated from the Galactic City Youth Academy with flying colors, excelling in the Coruscant Defense Force's officers' preparation and readiness courses from the time he was thirteen. He'd taken and thrived at private martial arts training courses, some of which were taken from the fighting styles utilized and trained upon at the Jedi Temple. The younger Kallus had in fact been on a fast track to a commission within the Coruscanti Defense Forces, itself, a fast-track to the higher echelons of Coruscant's high society.
To an extent, this had always been the plan. The Kallus family had a long history of service with the Coruscanti government, starting first with the defense force and then graduating to elected or appointed government positions. It was a fact of life for the young Alexsandr that he would follow those footsteps. But, the outbreak of war had thrown a whole new path wide open to the young man, the Republic Armed Forces had been reinstituted thanks to the Emergency Powers of the Supreme Chancellor. The Clone Army and the Jedi Order obviously were not numerous enough to hold the line against the vast droid armies of the Separatists, much less make up lost ground, so recruitment drives were visiting with anyone who was willing to listen at the various academies with military readiness courses and at the defense force itself here on Coruscant. He had taken the offers being set forward. Tomorrow, Alexsandr would go to the Republic Army, not the Grand Army, no, that was exclusive to the Clones and the Jedi and their hand-picked officers. The regular Army was already being assembled, and from what was being spread to eligible young men, they desperately needed officers. He was going to take their officers candidacy exams, a mixture of physical and written evaluations designed to ensure that without the qualifications necessary all those unworthy of leading soldiers into battle would be weeded out. One Alexsandr's own instructors from the academy had seen the tests, and passed on to him the materials to study and what benchmarks the physical fitness tests would have for passing. Tomorrow, he was intending on passing with flying colors, just like he always did. But he first needed to speak to his parents. Unlike his family's past experiences in serving in uniform, if he took this opportunity to go for a commission with the Republic Army he would certainly see actual combat and real danger.
"Alexsandr, what's wrong? You haven't said anything since you came home, what's wrong dear?" his doting mother, Emian, a pure socialite and former theater director inquired.
"Father, mother," Alexsandr leaned forward, "I've made my decision, about my future. It does not lie here, with a commission to the Coruscant Defense Forces. I will be taking the officers' candidacy exams tomorrow to gain my commission with the Republic Army."
"The Republic Army?" the elder Kallus replied incredulously, "Alexsandr if you sought to serve the Republic Military I could have arranged for you to serve with the Grand Army rather than with the rabble of the regular Army."
It was true enough that the Grand Army of the Republic, spearheaded by the traditional leadership of the Jedi Order and their noble and skilled white plastoid-armored Clone Troopers were taking up the headlines. Anyone who was anyone military-wise was involved with the Grand Army or wanted to be. Meanwhile, the younger and neglected sibling of the GAR, the unimaginatively-named Republic Army was quietly organized as a blanket term for the federalized Republic-aligned defense forces. It was in their public statements of intent that this other army was not necessarily an offensive force. These forces, mission-wise, were not going to see much real change. Their job was to protect Republic worlds, reinforce the garrisons of exposed frontier worlds, and support the GAR. The Republic Army was not set up to bathe itself in glory by the somewhat limited outlook of the Senate who were nervous about the possibility of escalating the conflict.
"No, father, this I must do on my own. I looked into it, the Grand Army is only recruiting trusted officers with experience in military life and especially records in combat, neither of which I have. I shall be able to get both in the regular army. They are desperate for competent officers, particularly junior officers."
Alexsandr's parents looked to one another with a mixture of hurt, worry, and pride. They loved their son, dearly. They'd spared no expense in seeing him grow up never wanting for whatever they could. When he struggled with school subjects, if his father or mother could help they themselves stayed up with him to the next morning aiding his studies or his school projects. Alexsandr had seen his father return home from a long day of work, and then not even get a wink of sleep in familiarizing himself with his son's school work which he'd reported he was struggling with, all to make sure he would be able to help his boy. His mother personally cut his hair until he was ten, doting over his every fashion choice so he would never feel out of place in Coruscant's upper crust of society.
"Well, son," Aerin sighed as he clasped his hands together and smiled reassuringly, "Know that…your mother and I do not, and will never think any less of you for choosing this path. In fact," he offered a gesture that said he saw opportunity for his boy, "This may be an opportunity for you. After all, this is a time of war, and officers are always seen as a step above the herd. This may be your chance to show what you can do and prove yourself. It may be the thing that'll set you apart in society, in a good way, especially if you merit some promotions what with the Army growing as rapidly as it is. I can see you making…captain in a few months, major possibly in a year or year and a half if you play your cards right. In a couple of years you may find yourself in an advantageous position, a senior officer, lieutenant colonel or colonel, or maybe a general perhaps, and…who knows what opportunities may arise then."
"I think he's going to do wonderfully for himself darling," Alexsandr's mother said hopefully, putting a brave face onto the subject.
Although Alexsandr knew his father to be spitting pipedreams. The road to a senior rank like general was one that anyone worth their salt knew to be a decades-long process, even the possibility of being a major would take him at least three to five years if he was very lucky. But captain, that was not out of the realm of possibility for a year or possibly less.
"What time do you need to be at the exams?" his father inquired.
"Oh five hundred, on the dot."
"You remember what that means do you not?"
"Be there fifteen to thirty minutes early, I know."
"I'll see you there myself, my boy. I'm proud of you."