104

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

104

33 BBY/967 GSC. Naboo Conflict +35 days. Naboo.

“So, we’re agreed, then?” Qui-Gon asked as I walked into the room carrying the datapad I had been reading for the better part of the day.

I paused, looking around to judge the reactions of Padme and the Trade Federation representative—the third one since this mess started. Padme looked annoyed, as did the Federation rep, and their feelings mirrored their expressions. I judged that good enough not to interfere—after all, all good negotiations ended one of two ways: both sides happy and mutually benefiting from a situation, or both sides coming away annoyed as neither of them got what they wanted.

Seeing nothing requiring my immediate attention, I sat down and went back to reading reports.

All of the ships we had sent had made it to Naboo and unloaded their cargo. The food supplies had been distributed globally to the cities, towns, and communities that needed them. The farming equipment and the agriculture specialists sent to train the locals had arrived, along with several thousand settlers. It seemed that when it came down to it, very few people on Naboo actually wanted to engage in the down and dirty kind of farming it took to feed a planet.

Oh sure, there were plenty of people who called themselves ‘farmers,’ who in reality had armies of droids and paid help to tend to their vineyards in order to produce the wine that Naboo was famous for. And practically all of those were interested in bankrolling and then profiting from a large scale farming operation geared towards growing crops. But none of them wanted to involve themselves in the day to day operation.

Moreover, while there were thousands of less well off locals looking to join up and learn, they were all unskilled when it came to farming. So we had arranged to have some settlers from Serenno and a few other Confederate planets who were interested move to Naboo to take over the job for now, train the locals how to do it, and in a couple of years production would be mostly on the Nabooians as enough of them picked the skill up.

Of course, new settlers and people relocating to where the new farms were being built meant new settlements had needed to be constructed. We had shipped a lot of prefab buildings for temporary housing and storage, while Naboo would be constructing the actual towns and so on to fit with their cultural standards—all on the government dime.

As for the location chosen for those new farms, it was pretty much universally agreed upon to use the wide, open plains to the north of the mountain range dividing the continent. There were thousands of miles of fertile land out there ideal for farming grain, according to surveyors. The local weather patterns were mild, with cool but not truly cold winters and warm but never truly hot summers, and while the area got rain and the occasional tornado the continental locations compared to the seas meant that typhoons didn’t have enough open water to truly build up.

The only problem with that was the droid army still looking to march across the plains. In order to avoid them potentially sacking the newly forming settlements, they were being built hundreds of miles from the mountains. It should be such a large amount of space that the droid army wouldn’t bother detouring to cross it and attack the farmers, but just in case, they were currently installing a sensor net which would give us warning well in advance if the TradeFed did decide to move on them.

A Confederate population here will give us a foothold and some influence in Naboo’s politics. Hopefully, enough to apply some pressure and keep them from becoming pro-Republic subversives. On the other hand, history shows I probably shouldn’t hold out hope that politicians will listen to the people supplying their food, until those people stop supplying said food. I don’t want this turning into a microcosm of the Republic as a whole, so we’re going to need to make some changes at the top level as well, between the politicians and the ruling class. I’ll need to speak with Padme about that.

Of course, that was just the latest from the agriculture situation. The ones I’d read earlier in the day were much more alarming and had required me to leave the room and spend most of the day in discussions with Dooku, our navy higher ups, Confederate Intelligence Service, and the ship captains under my command relaying orders.

The Trade Federation, perfidious toads that they were, had decided to violate the ceasefire. We had expected it, of course. But now we had confirmation. They were massing ships and presumably troops in neighboring systems, preparing to make a big push. The ships carrying my clone trooper ground forces along with the reinforcements for my naval assets were stationed in a nearby uninhabited system that the TradeFed weren’t occupying and could be here within half a day of travel as soon as I gave the word, but given the sheer number of enemy reinforcements coming, I wasn’t sure it was going to be enough. That’s why we were sending more ships—and a little something else.

Our first dreadnought had finished its shakedown cruise and was being sent. The Kandosii was the first of a new line of Kandosii-class dreadnoughts—the first seen in nearly four thousand years; not since the time of the Battle of Malachor V. Physically, she looked very much like a scaled up version of the Keldabe-class with a few modifications—making her proportionally twice as long compared to the Keldabe-class, but I’d had a look at the technical specs and she was a beast.

The Kandosii was five miles long and absolutely bristling with weapons. Two hundred missile tubes. A flight deck with fighters, bombers, and transports comparable to what the Redoubt carried. Two thousand turbolaser batteries, fire-linked in groups of ten. The same number and linkage of heavy turbolaser batteries. One thousand heavy ion cannons, likewise fire linked in groups of ten. Fifteen hundred point defense weapons, in either laser cannons or small railguns. Twenty super-heavy turbolaser batteries mounted top and bottom, four times the size and range of anything on the market at the moment, each capable of individual targeting.

And out front, a forward mounted battery of ten railguns that stretched nearly the length of the ship and had positively huge power banks. The projectiles they shot were twice the mass as those on the Redoubt and they packed a much greater punch. And even better, they were roughly the size of a standard torpedo, meaning we could now pack in options! Different payloads! Flechettes! Inertial dampeners, guidance systems, and thrusters! Even better, every one of the new rounds was modular and could be assembled in sections as needed, like packing a shotgun shell. I was very excited to see what they could do.

And now would be an excellent time to test her~! All those enemy ships, grouped together, just waiting for the order to attack, thinking they’re safe…

Looking up at the sound of a chair scraping the floor, I watched as the TradeFed’s newest representative left the room, leaving the rest of us behind. When the door closed I put my datapad down, swiveled my seat towards my Padawans, and ordered, “Allaya, summarize.”

The redhead jerked where she sat, embarrassment replacing her boredom as she was called upon—and caught not paying as much attention as she should have been. I sent her an expectant raised eyebrow. If I wanted a complete, point by point breakdown of the entire meeting, I would have asked Asajj. No, I wanted her take on it, because she needed to learn how to do this for when she took over for her mother. I needed to test her to make sure she was picking things up and not slacking off—and she knew that.

A determined look crossed the girl’s face and she nodded sharply. “The Tradies want their Viceroy released. We refuse and so does Naboo. The Jedi offered turning him over to the Republic Senate for judgment under their law as a show of good faith since his actions were taken when Naboo was still with the Republic. The CIS and Naboo don’t like it, but agrees. The Tradies refuse, but they don’t get a choice.”

I nodded, before glancing towards Qui-Gon and Padme. “Is that accurate?”

“For the most part,” Padme agreed.

Qui-Gon smiled, nodding. “Very succinct, but that was the gist of the first matter.”

“Continue,” I instructed.

“We want the Tradies off the planet. The Republic agrees that they should leave and the Jedi say they should give up on the invasion, but they don’t wanna. They agreed to extend the ceasefire, but the guy felt weird when he agreed. Like he was pretending to be upset, but actually that was what he wanted.”

“Yes, I picked up on that,” I murmured, glancing towards Qui-Gon. “Our scouts in the neighboring systems have detected a buildup of TradeFed ships. They aren’t putting all of their eggs in one basket this time, but it’s very obvious they plan to violate the ceasefire and move soon.”

Qui-Gon sighed, but held his hands out in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “I suspected as much. Unfortunately, the Senate still will not commit to sending fleet assets. We had a very long discussion with them last night and their response can be summarized as: you can’t have it both ways. Either Naboo has seceded, in which case their defense is the responsibility of the CIS, or they have not and this is an illegal Separatist occupation and the only thing they will be sending ships to do is force the Separatists to leave the Naboo sector.”

I blinked, staring at him for just a moment, a bit dumbfounded. “So either way, they aren’t going to do anything about the Trade Federation.”

“Correct,” Qui-Gon nodded.

“And they refuse to acknowledge the Trade Federation’s actions as worthy of a response.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

My jaw clenched and I leaned forward in my seat. Padme flinched as I hissed, “But they want us to turn over the Viceroy to face their justice… for the actions they refuse to acknowledge as illegal and do something about?”

Qui-Gon sent me a wry smile. “Quite so. It’s quite the paradox, isn’t it?”

“It’s insanity!” I raised my voice, slamming an armored fist on the table hard enough to dent the wood. “They say we can’t have it both ways, and yet here they are, wanting it two ways!”

The sheer hypocrisy and stupidity were enough to make my blood pressure rise. Allaya winced and looked to Asajj, drawing my attention. “So I shouldn’t tell her about the last thing?”

“Hiding it’s only going to make her more angry,” Asajj pointed out.

I sent the redhead a questioning look. “What was the last thing?”

Allaya drew a breath, then let it all out at once. “The Republic Senate want Queen Amidala to appear before them and she agreed!”

I slowly turned my head to lock eyes with Padme. The young queen blushed, but didn’t look away. “You know this is either a trap or a power play, right?”

“I’m aware of the possibility,” the girl nodded. “Master Qui-Gon assures me that if I agree, he and Obi-Wan will guarantee my safety and my freedom, and that I will return to Naboo within a reasonable time—”

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“Define reasonable,” I growled.

“A month and a half or less,” Padme clarified.

My gaze cut over to Qui-Gon, who nodded. “It is possible that the Senate does not have young Padme’s best interests in mind. It is even likely that they may move to imprison her when she arrives. I promise, we will not allow that to come to pass.”

I frowned, but nodded once. If Qui-Gon gave his word, I trusted he was being truthful. Still, that didn’t mean it was good enough. Two Jedi were hardly enough to guarantee her safety.

Shifting back to Padme, I asked, “You’re set on going along with this idiocy?”

Padme sighed, but nodded. “Yes. I will turn over Viceroy Gunray in person. Then, I’ll use the opportunity to speak before the Senate and explain exactly why Naboo has left the Republic and why we’re not returning.”

I held up a hand and she paused. Smiling, I said, “Offer them an out. If they’re willing to uphold their laws and send ships and troops to reclaim Naboo immediately, the Confederacy will annul our contract at your request with no penalties, withdraw our forces, and allow Naboo to rejoin the Republic peacefully. We’ll even write off the food and other material aid we’ve sent as charity.”

Qui-Gon was the one to sigh this time, sending me a knowing look. “They aren’t going to accept the offer.”

“Of course they won’t,” I agreed with a smile. “But the fact is, we will have made the offer—officially and publicly, in front of the entire Republic Senate. Their refusal will, once again, show the rest of the galaxy that the Republic aren’t willing to honor their duties and commitments, even when we’ve made it as easy for them to do so as we can.”

“I’ll do it,” Padme agreed with a nod.

“Very well.” I turned to my Padawans. “Asajj, go with her.” Pointing to Padme, I continued, “Stay in her back pocket. Do not leave the Queen’s side. Kill anyone who tries to harm or take her. You have my permission to knock her out and carry her if she protests.”

“Hey!” Padme protested. “Tanya!”

I sent her a knowing look. “Trouble follows you around like stink on a bantha. And while I trust Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan with my life, a little extra help won’t hurt. If Asajj tells you to do something, you do it—because she’ll only do so if your life is in immediate danger. Understand?”

The young queen pouted, but eventually nodded. “Fine.”

“I would go myself, but I need to stay here and manage the situation. I’d like to send you with one of my ships, but that would violate the ceasefire. And the moment they detect you leaving the planet, the Trade Federation are going to call ahead. So they’re probably going to choose that time to break the ceasefire and make their move.”

“I’ll alert my people and let them know to prepare,” Padme said, wearing a frown as she did.

Looking to Allaya, I asked, “Anything else?”

“No, Master,” the redhead shook her head.

“Alright. Who else is going?”

“Just some security personnel and a pilot,” Qui-Gon answered, before I felt the man’s mischief and amusement and he sent me a grin. “And one other guest.”

“…Who?” I asked, warily.

At that, Padme smiled, before quickly hiding it. “After the announcement of the devastation wrought by the Trade Federation, the Republic Senate demanded to speak with a representative of the gungan people to hear about it from a survivor.”

“No,” I groaned quietly, feeling my eye briefly twitch at the headache I knew was coming.

Padme ruthlessly continued. “So we will be taking Jar Jar Binks as a representative of the gungans.”

I dropped my head into my hands, ignoring the giggles from multiple sources.

Jar Jar Binks was a walking catastrophe. The single most clumsy and yet simultaneously lucky individual in the galaxy. I could feel the Force around him and it was twisted in ways that made my head hurt—ways that neither Qui-Gon nor Obi could see, but both Asajj and Allaya agreed were weird, telling me it was something subtle enough that anyone exposed to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant for any length of time would have a hard time detecting it. It was like he was a living mistake in the Force, but also an over-correction. A living rounding error.

Taking a breath, I let it out in a sigh before sitting up. “At least he’s going to be out of my hair.” And thank the Force for that. Turning to Asajj, I smiled. “You have my permission to shoot him.”

“Tanya,” Qui-Gon chided, sounding entirely too amused at my very justified reaction to the nuisance.

“Tch. Fine. But if he wanders into an airlock, turn and walk the other way,” I rolled my eyes. “When are you leaving?”

“As soon as the Queen can inform her people and pack,” Qui-Gon answered, getting back on track.

“Alright. Then let’s adjourn so we can go prepare,” I stood and my Padawans followed. As soon as we were out of the door, I glanced to Bo and motioned for her to walk beside me. The redhead quickened her pace and stepped in beside me.

“Tanya?”

“Bo, I need you to go as well. Keep an eye on Asajj for me.”

I felt the older woman’s hesitation. After a moment, she gave her answer. “I’m sorry,” the redhead shook her head. I met her eyes and she sent me a defiant look in return. Quieter, she murmured, “I’ve already tarnished my honor. If I leave my post, it’ll be considered desertion, regardless of who the order came from. I wish I could. I don’t like the idea of sending a foundling out like this without backup either. But I can’t. Can you get someone else to do it?”

“Not without violating the ceasefire,” I murmured.

Bo sent me a sympathetic look. “Then I guess you’re going to have to trust that your training has been enough.”

“…I don’t like it,” I admitted.

We made it to our temporary quarters and Asajj began packing her bad. Allaya offered, “I could go.”

I shook my head. “I need one of you here with me, and of the two of you, Asajj can make shields and you can’t.”

Allaya huffed out an annoyed breath, but nodded. Looking to the blonde, I said, “If anything feels off, don’t hesitate to do what you think you need to.” Considering for a moment, I added, “And take Catya with you.”

While the girls had bonded to their own Loth-cats, the kittens didn’t have the sheer range Catya had. Catya was older and smarter, and if I absolutely needed to, I could look through her senses and direct her if need be, even at that range. It was harder and required more concentration, but it would be doable.

“Mm,” Asajj nodded. “I will.”

The lazy cat in question looked up from where she had been napping on a window, blinking slowly at us before standing and stretching. Understanding what I wanted, she hopped down, then jumped over and climbed her way up Asajj to drape herself over the girl’s shoulders, where she promptly went right back to napping.

Finally, Asajj looked to be done. I checked her bag and made sure she had everything, before nodding. The smaller blonde opened her arms and gave me a hug that clanked as our armor came together, before she turned and left the room as we followed to see her and the others off.

We entered the royal hangar and I whistled quietly at seeing the ship they were boarding—a pair of armed guards escorting Viceroy Gunray up the ramp while Qui-Gon and Obi followed, the girl feeling my attention on her and turning briefly to send me a wave before she followed her Master up into the ship. It was a sleek, aerodynamic, chrome beauty of a ship that reminded me somewhat of the American SR-71 of my first life—if more rounded.

I want it~.

“You can’t have it.”

I blinked, sending Padme an amused look at the younger woman met my eyes and raised an eyebrow from where she stood dressed as one of her own handmaidens—Sabe, I believe, dressed and made up as the queen not far from us. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes,” she deadpanned.

I gestured at the craft. “She’s very sexy. How much to get you to build me one?”

The girl smirked. “Mm… nope! No can do. It was made by the palace Space Vessel Engineering Corps. They only make one-offs. Hand crafted.” I frowned and she laughed. “I believe our people only made the hull, though. The internals were all manufactured and installed on Nubia, if I recall correctly. Nothing is stopping you from going to Nubia and commissioning a replica, as long as you supply your own hull.”

“…I may do that,” I murmured, spinning up a scanning formula and taking a few detailed scans for later perusal. I’d have to talk to Cindy and put our heads together to see what we could come up with.

“Well, I’ll be off. You’ll keep things in hand here while I’m gone?” she asked, sending me an uncertain look.

“I’ll try. As I said, I expect the Trade Federation to break the ceasefire within the week once you leave. Our reinforcements are close, with more on the way. We should be able to stalemate them until they arrive. After all, they haven’t simply bombarded Theed from orbit yet. They want the city and its plasma extraction facility intact, along with all of the others. If all else fails…”

Padme took a breath and gave the order she knew I was waiting to hear. What we both knew needed to be done. “If all else fails, destroy the facilities. All of them. I won’t have Naboo fuel their ambitions. Ensure that any victory they achieve here is pyrrhic and costs more than they will ever gain.”

I nodded. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Safe travels.”

“Stay safe, yourself,” she sent me a smile.

Turning my attention to Asajj, I reached out and rubbed the top of her head. She turned and smiled up at me, before heading for the ship behind Padme—everything that needed to be said already had.

We watched them leave and I took out my personal holocom, calling up the Redoubt as we made our way out of the hangar the moment they were gone. It transferred immediately to Capt. Keen. “Mandalore,” she nodded.

“The Queen is departing with a Jedi escort now, en route to Coruscant. Keep eyes on them for me until they enter hyperspace. And alert me to any changes in the Trade Federation ships. I suspect that as soon as the Jedi and the Queen are gone, the ceasefire will be worth less than the paper it was printed on.”

“Understood.” She paused, then reported, “We’ve got them on scopes now. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“Thank you,” I nodded, disconnecting the call.

“What now, Master?” Allaya asked.

I sent the redhead a grin. “Now? I will teach you the value of the humble brick of C-4.”

As it turns out, the concept of an otherwise inert malleable explosive compound wasn’t exactly new—in fact, it was old. Very, very old. So old it had generally been replaced with what many felt were better alternatives. Except, having had the displeasure of working with most of those, I could say with certainty that they relied entirely too much upon fancy gadgetry and not enough on good, old fashioned chemical explosives.

Det. charges were useful, but had a bad habit of failing when it was least convenient. Worse, they were a well known element that could be anticipated and planned against—to the point that some more secure installations ran interference against them as standard practice. Equipment that broadcast a signal that would disable them unless the person using them went out of their way to protect against it—in a constant cycle of adapting to each others’ changes. It was a sad day when grenades were more useful than standard demo charges.

The humble brick of C-4 didn’t have that problem. It was entirely inert and so ancient that most chemical scanners didn’t bother sniffing for the explosive compounds that made it up, because they had long been replaced by better formulated alternatives. The detonators could be set on a timer that was so simple it couldn’t be disabled by scramblers, and the remote option for them was harder to jam for its simplicity.

The KISS method worked rather well.

“What are we putting that stuff on?” Allaya asked, sending me a curious look as we made our way to the other hangar, where our own ship was docked—along with the speeders for getting around the city.

“The plasma extractors.”

Allaya slowly turned her head, staring at me for a moment before asking, “Master… Isn’t plasma fuel?”

“Mhmm.”

“…And we’re gonna blow it up if they make it to the city?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Master, there won’t be a city if we do that.”

“I know.”

“Did the queen?!” Allaya hissed.

I sent her an amused smile. “Probably not, no. There are ways to safely destroy them without blowing the whole facility and endangering the city.”

The redhead eyed me skeptically. “You’re not using one of those, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” The redhead twitched and I sent her an amused look as we entered the hangar and made our way to a speeder. “Don’t worry. If the enemy army gets within a hundred miles of Theed, I’ll evacuate the city. That way, there’s no risk to the civilian population. If the enemy takes the city, it won’t be for long. Cities can be rebuilt, but the potential damage of letting that fuel fall into enemy hands can’t be undone or the people it will kill brought back to life.”

“So… better to burn it all down than let the enemy get it and use it against us?” Allaya asked, and I nodded.

“Exactly—”

My holocom rang and I frowned. Pulling it from my pocket, I saw it was coming from the Redoubt and quickly answered. “Go for Mereel—”

“An enemy stealth ship just attacked the queen’s ship. They both jumped to hyperspace, but the queen’s ship didn’t enter on a vector for Coruscant,” Capt. Keen reported quickly. “And now, the Trade Federation ships are launching landing craft and moving into defensive formations around their Lucrehulks. They’ve also fired torpedoes at the hyperspace comms relay. We can’t intercept in time.”

“I said it would start soon, but I wasn’t expecting it to be this soon,” I grumbled. “The war is back on. Get word out to get our backup here, while we still can.”

“I thought you would say that. I sent a prerecorded message,” the captain nodded.

“Good work. Do you have an estimate of where the queen’s ship went?”

“Galactic east, towards the Corellian Run. They were damaged though, so we’re not sure how far they can make it.”

Sighing, I nodded. “Alright. Nothing we can do for it now. But we can still send help. Order one of our ships to pursue. They’ll need to drop out and scan at every stop along the way, but if they had to make a crash landing, I don’t want to leave them stranded with an enemy ship in pursuit.”

“Aye, ma’am. And the Trade Federation?”

“Open fire. Hammer the shit out of them. I need to go take care of some things on the ground before we can resume operations down here. We’ll hold out until backup arrives—” The comm fuzzed out for a moment and when it came back, Aylin frowned. “They’ve begun jamming. You have your orders.”

“Yes, Mandalore,” she agreed, and I hung up.

Hopping out of the speeder, I headed for the Rusted Silver as Allaya followed. “No point to staying grounded now. We’ll need to hurry on getting those facilities further away.”

It seemed things were about to get very busy. So much for taking it easy and enjoying a little downtime with the negotiations over.