98

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

98

Serenno. 33 BBY/967 GSC.

White-silver met and was parried by blue and I pulled back, intercepting the return riposte from Master Dooku as we moved across the grass in the cool morning air. Nearby, Jenza watched from a bench, seated with Allaya and Asajj as the three of them ate breakfast pastries. Dooku hummed as we traded blows back and forth, both of us searching for an opening in the other’s defense and finding none.

“That is troubling news indeed,” he murmured. “I can think of any number of things a Sith can do with a group of Force sensitive children, death being the least of them.”

“Qui-Gon promised that he would share whatever information the Temple extracted from the assassin. Apparently, she was a former Padawan herself—before being kidnapped and indoctrinated as an assassin. Aurra Sing,” I reported, in between alternately dodging, parrying, and riposting myself.

“Ahh,” Dooku murmured, nodding as he began to circle. “I remember that name, and when her Master went into exile. A shame.”

I lunged forward into a series of fast strikes, only to be met with an almost lazy series of parries, before the older man swept out an arm and slammed the general area I was standing in with a wide area push from the Force, launching me backwards, towards the lake. I caught myself on the edge of the water and nodded, conceding the point before moving closer to resume the assault. “How have things been here?”

This wasn’t our official debriefing, of course. I’d compiled and submitted paperwork for my reports in transit on the way from Mandalore, but we hadn’t had a chance to go over everything in them in depth yet. We had gotten in rather late by local time and had turned in for the night, so this was our first actual face to face since returning and this was a good time to go over the highlights.

Master Dooku suddenly launched into his own high speed assault, forcing me back across the grass as our sabers clashed over and over. “Everything has been going well, all things considered. More worlds join our cause every week. Many Jedi have abandoned the old Order and come to Serenno and, with the help of your friend Taria, we have begun recruiting those who were deemed failures and sent to agriworlds. We have begun construction on both a new Temple here and a praxeum ship.”

“That’s good news,” I nodded. “Here’s hoping that this schism and subsequent attrition keeps them busy for a while. Was there anything else of interest?”

“Yes, but that conversation should be had privately. I take it there are no more plans for long term infiltrations or other missions that will send you away for long?”

I shook my head, even as we locked blades and his strength began to overpower my own. I choked up on the blade, locked it in with my crossguard, and shot off a kick at his crotch. Master Dooku shut off his lightsaber and backed away, conceding the point. “No, I don’t have anything planned.”

“Good. Then you can begin taking on more duties within the Confederacy.”

“You mean save you from some paperwork?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and sending him an amused look.

Master Dooku smiled. “Thank you for volunteering to take on that particular burden.”

We wrapped up our spar not long after, with Master Dooku a point ahead of me. With that finished, I turned my attention to Allaya. The redhead gulped at my smile, even as Master Dooku said the words that set her doom in motion. “Tanya, I hereby return Allaya to your care as her Master.”

“Oh no,” the redhead whispered, before turning a betrayed look on Dooku. “Father, how could you?!”

Jenza chuckled quietly, reaching out and patting her niece on the head. “You’ll be fine.”

Moving over to collect a breakfast pastry and a cup of tea—from the pot containing my tea leaves, not Jenza’s—I sighed as I took a sip. “We’ll save your evaluation for when we get back, Allaya. Then, I’ll be spending most of the day debriefing, so the two of you will have some time to yourselves. I’ll arrange for some fighters to be sent down from the Redoubt so you can get some practice in.”

The girls both perked up at that and Allaya dropped the sulky attitude. Sitting down on the grass, I leaned back against the bench as I ate.

“Oh, by the way Tanya,” Jenza spoke up, drawing my attention. “Senator Bonteri tried to get in touch with you while you were out. I explained that you were indisposed, but she assured me it wasn’t urgent. She simply wanted to, what was it she said?” Jenza paused to think, before saying, “Continue the conversation you began. I’ve spent some time getting to know her, since. Mina’s a lovely lady and we’ve become fast friends.”

“Yes, she seemed like fine company,” I agreed with a nod. “I’ll call her when I get a chance.”

It seems my attempts at networking paid off. Never mind defending her son from Krell. I’ll find out what she wants and see about arranging a less formal social call so we can spend some time in a less formal setting. And it wouldn’t hurt to get the girls some more time out and about, making friends. …Assuming they’ve forgiven Lux for his words and actions the last time they met. He didn’t seem like a bad child, just… a child. Not as mature as them. I suppose we’ll see.

That night, after Allaya and Asajj were sent to bed, the three of us sat around the table in the den, the fire in the fireplace casting the room in flickering orange light. Taking a sip of my drink, I waited as Master Dooku gathered his thoughts.

Finally, he said, “While you were away, I was approached by Hego Damask.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The man we suspect is Palpatine’s Master?”

“The very same,” Dooku nodded.

I leaned back in my seat and considered for a moment, before asking, “What did he want?”

“He wished to negotiate peace between the Confederation and the Trade Federation. As one of the larger backers behind the Trade Federation, he offered to act as an intermediary with the rest of the Federation.”

I frowned, “Peace, or a cease fire?”

Master Dooku smiled at that, a knowing look on his face. “A ceasefire.”

My eyes narrowed as I remembered the last ceasefire someone had offered to my side, and the cataclysmic aftermath. “It sounds like they’re planning something. They want a window to position troops or achieve some goal, after which the cease fire will end and they’ll be free to use whatever advantage they gained against us. No. Absolutely not. Now is the time to strike. We need to know what they don’t want us to see, and then deny it to them.”

“We said this would be a defensive war,” Jenza reminded.

“We did,” I agreed, I said, sending her a smile as I ran a finger around the lip of my glass. “And who decides what constitutes a ‘defensive war?’ This is a war for our survival. Our right to exist. Free from the tyranny of incompetence the Republic offers. Free from the indentured servitude the Trade Federation offers. Any actions taken to secure that freedom could thus be considered purely ‘defensive.’ Not just defensive, but a matter of survival. No one ever said we would limit ourselves to staying in our systems and allowing the enemy to conduct unlimited raids, blockades, and conduct other actions without ever striking back. In fact, I distinctly recall that I specifically said that I would not spend my peoples’ lives frivolously, would not instigate a war with the Republic, seek to conquer Republic worlds, and would only go to war against them after they attacked us first.”

My smile grew as I continued, “I said I wouldn’t spend their lives frivolously, not that I wouldn’t spend them at all. War is terrible and the loss of sentient life is wasteful, but not without necessity—especially if the alternative is returning to the former status quo, or letting the Trade Federation slowly strangle us to death. And this is the Federation we’re dealing with, not the Republic.”

Dooku nodded. “That was my thought as well, along with the general consensus of my military advisors. There are those that have urged me to accept and use this opportunity to our advantage. To try to work with the Federation against the Republic, or at least remain neutral.”

“Mm. A losing strategy, when the winner eventually comes for us, with the combined resources of both sides.” Shaking my head, I asked, “Was that all he wanted?”

“I had the impression he was evaluating me, but unwilling to commit at this time. Perhaps this is a test to see where we truly stand.”

“So, what?” Jenza asked, looking between the two of us. “If we agree, we appear more amenable to the Sith’s goals. If we refuse or attack, then we’ve set ourselves in opposition to them.”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Or perhaps it was a genuine offer made by a representative of the Federation. That is the problem with Sith plots. Eventually, everything looks like a move by the Sith, until you find yourself questioning everything,” Dooku murmured, before taking a sip from his own glass.

“I want to go over everything we have on the Trade Federation’s recent movements and see if I can figure out what they’re hiding.” Sighing, I drained the rest of my drink and stood. “I’ll go get started on that and let you know if I find anything.”

“Don’t just shut yourself away in your room doing research,” Jenza warned and I nodded, waving her concern off as I left.

I’ll need to get with the Intelligence department and get a summary of the TradeFed’s finances for the past year, in addition to fleet and troop movements…

Naboo. 33 BBY/967 GSC.

Finally sitting down in her private quarters, the newly elected QueenPadme Amidala flopped backwards onto her bed, grabbed a thick pillow, and pulled it over her face. Then, she screamed—kicking and thrashing on the bed as she let out her frustration.

“Sanandrassa you idiot!!! You should have ousted the Trade Federation ages ago!”

Pulling the pillow off, she flung it across the room in a fit of pique. A moment later, the door to her bedchambers opened and she sat up to see who had invaded her private time. Seeing that it was only Sabe, she sighed and relaxed somewhat. “Yes, Sabe? What is it? I thought I said I wasn’t to be disturbed.”

The handmaiden winced, before offering a printed missive. “I’m sorry, my queen.”

“This was sent to former Queen Sanandrassa. She had it forwarded to you. And then she, well…”

“Well?” Padme asked, accepting the flexi warily.

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“She left. She is currently on her way to the spaceport to board a ship and leave the planet.”

Padme’s mouth fell open for a moment, before she began reading over the missive. As she did, her spirits fell.

Looking anxious, Sabe asked, “What does it say?”

Padme took a breath and summarized. “It’s from the Supreme Chancellor—former senator Palpatine. He says that the recent commercial blockade of Naboo by the Trade Federation is not a priority matter for the Senate at this time and that officially, they will revisit the matter in three to six months.”

“…And unofficially?”

“Unofficially, he’s urging us to hold out for another few months. He’s trying to convince the Jedi to send someone to negotiate, but they aren’t convinced that the situation is so desperate yet as to require Jedi intervention.”

Frowning, Sabe moved over and sat beside her queen. “And in the meantime, you must watch your people suffer as they’re forced to tighten their belts,” she murmured.

“Exactly,” Padme nodded. “We have the supplies to last through a blockade in the short term, but the last estimates I read projected six months worth of food if we start rationing right now. My advisors have suggested that we begin offering subsidies to start up farms, but we just won’t have the production capability to feed ourselves for years given just how much land would need to be cleared for it—and the citizens would revolt at the idea of ruining Naboo’s natural landscape for the sort of large scale farming required to feed everyone.”

Moving around behind Padme, Sabe settled in and began rubbing at the young queen’s neck, shoulders, and back, drawing a quiet sigh of appreciation from her. “Can you entreat with the Jedi directly?”

“I could, but the Jedi follow the Senate’s lead. And if the Senate says to wait, the Jedi aren’t going to go against their orders.” Leaning back into Sabe’s touch, she closed her eyes and thought. After a few moments, an idea occurred and she murmured, “Although… I do know someone. But she’s not with the Order anymore…”

Sabe paused for just a moment, before resuming her ministrations. “If you’re talking about who I believe you are, that would mean seeking help from the Separatists. That would be quite the political statement. A problematic one, at that. It could be interpreted as throwing our lot in with the Separatists. We may as well declare for them at that point, my lady.”

Groaning quietly, Padme nodded. “Yes. You’re right, of course. It’s just…”

“Hm?” Sabe hummed.

“I’m not Sanandrassa. I can’t and won’t just sit on my hands while this problem festers, and give the Trade Federation time to negotiate with the Republic using us as a bargaining chip. This is exactly the sort of problem that led to the formation of the Confederacy. If I reach out to them, it stands to reason that not only would we be natural allies, but they would seek to use us as a political tool of their own—a massive public relations victory against the Republic. ‘Naboo begged the Republic Senate for help, but even the Nabooian Supreme Chancellor was impotent. When they asked us for help, we answered.’ It would show they actually walk the walk, so to speak.”

Squeezing a bit tighter, Sabe said, “You know I will stand behind you no matter what. But shouldn’t you at least speak to your cabinet and advisors first?”

“You’re right,” Padme agreed. She stood, quite reluctantly given just how skilled Sabe’s hands were, and made her way over to her terminal. “I’ll send out a request for an emergency meeting, set for tonight. The sooner we take care of this, the sooner my people stop suffering.”

Sabe smiled fondly. “It seems you’ve already made up your mind. Very well.”

Serenno. 33 BBY/967 GSC.

An annoying chime roused me from a sound slumber. Cracking an eye open, I realized it was the holocom. A frustrated sound escaped my lips as I slipped out of bed and reached out with the Force, snagging a robe and pulling it on as I made my way over to check and see if it was important enough to answer now or if I could shut it off and go back to sleep.

Seeing that it was being routed internally from our comms department, I raised an eyebrow and accepted, audio only for the moment. “It’s,” I checked the time. “Three in the morning. This had better be good, or someone’s getting PT’d into the ground.”

“Ma’am, there’s a call for you. From Naboo. One Padme Amidala. She asked for you by name.”

I raised an eyebrow, before taking a seat. “I only know one Padme and that’s not her family name,” I mused, curiosity piqued. “Very well. I’ll take it.”

A moment later, the screen flashed and a standard blue and white hologram filled the air over my desk. Recognizing the young woman in it, and seeing she appeared to be in her own private quarters, I tapped the button to send video from my side. “Padme. It’s been some time.”

The brunette took in my appearance and winced, before smiling nervously. “Tanya. Yes, it has. I’m glad to see you’re doing well. And I am really, very sorry for calling this late. I, I’ll be honest, I didn’t even think to consider what time it might be where you are.”

I waved her concern off. “It’s fine. I’m up now, so the damage is done. If you want to repay me for waking me from a sound sleep and a very pleasant dream about the perfect cup of coffee,” Ildoan beans and served with half a bar of German chocolate melted in and a side of chocolate chip cookies, made and served by Viktoriya in a naked apron, “you’ll satisfy my curiosity. Why have you called? This doesn’t seem like a simple social call.”

Padme straightened herself up in her seat, the obvious stress and worry disappearing from her face behind a wall I recognized—it was one I wore daily, after all. “Jedi Knight Tanya Mereel, on behalf of Naboo I, Queen Padme Amidala, formally request your aid. The people of Naboo are currently suffering under an illegal blockade perpetrated by the Trade Federation. The Republic Senate have denied our requests for aid and have refused to act and won’t for three to six months. The Jedi Order likewise deferred and asked us to wait months for a resolution. You and your Master Dooku left the Republic and formed the Confederacy over exactly this sort of injustice and neglect on the part of the Republic. Will you help me?”

Considering the young woman before me, I leaned back in my chair and smiled. Something about it made her shiver, but she did an admirable job of controlling the reaction. “Congratulations on your ascension, Queen Amidala.” She nodded once, a bit jerkily, and I continued. “I take it you have considered what this will mean for Naboo and are willing to accept the consequences?”

The brunette nodded. “Yes. Naboo will,” she paused to swallow and lick her lips. “If Suzerain Dooku will allow it, Naboo will leave the Republic and join the Confederation of Independent Systems.”

Humming, I asked, “What does Naboo require aside from breaking the blockade and what can you offer as a member planet?”

“Food. We import the vast majority of our food and it would take more time than we have to set up the farming infrastructure necessary to become self-sufficient.” A small frown pulled at her lips before she put aside whatever concern she had and added, “We offer many exports, but I believe the one that will most appeal to the Confederacy is plasma. With the Trade Federation removed, we would be free to sell and export plasma directly to Confederate member states at a much lower cost than the Federation was selling it at.”

I blinked as the realization set in, sitting up and grabbing a nearby tablet in the Force, pulling up the data I had been reviewing just a couple of hours ago. “That’s it.”

Queen Amidala’s mask cracked. “What’s ‘it?’”

Distractedly, I answered, “The Trade Federation approached Master Dooku with an offer for a ceasefire. My first assumption was that they wanted to buy themselves a window to go after some goal or to move troops around. But this…” Looking up from the tablet briefly, I asked, “What sorts of ships did they send to enforce the blockade? I need to know if they’ve sent a Lucrehulk. It looks like three quarters of a circle with a sphere inside it.”

“Yes,” Padme nodded. “They have two so far, along with an assortment of other ships, and it seems like more support craft arrive daily.”

Turning back to my tablet, I explained, “Padme, they don’t use Lucrehulks for blockades. Those are troop carriers, filled to the brim with their droid army. They intend to take the planet.”

“What.”

I nodded, my eyes skimming over the material. Movements of their tankers towards that region of the galaxy that made no sense unless they had discovered some large fuel source. A slow but steady buildup of ships along the Hydian Way in the neighboring systems. They were preparing for a major offensive, followed by settling in for a long term occupation and defense of what would likely be their most important resource for the war if they got ahold of it. “The blockade was never about putting pressure on the Senate. It was about seeing what they could get away with, then taking a planet rich in the best power source in the galaxy. Which they could then use to fuel their entire war machine practically for free. They were never going to go along with whatever the Senate told them, because they intend to occupy Naboo.”

I heard Padme swallow thickly and looked up to find her gripping the edge of her desk hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “What can we do?”

“For now? Nothing. You’ve done all you can.” She looked upset at that so I continued. “The good news is, the Trade Federation haven’t brought their full might to bear. Not for a ground assault and occupation. The bad news is, of course, more ships are coming, with more troops. Also, if we got ships moving within the hour, it would take our fastest ships a week to get there. However, you don’t just need the blockade broken, you need the planet defended long term and guaranteed shipments of food. Which means bringing a large enough fleet to defend the system and enough shipping vessels to fill a month’s food order and start building up a stockpile in case you’re cut off again—ideally a year. On top of that, sending equipment and people to help your people get set up and educated to make Naboo self-sufficient for food as soon as possible. A week to get a fleet there. Two weeks to start receiving shipments of food. Perhaps a month to get people there to start farming operations. If you can hold out for two weeks, we can likely have more ships arrive with the food. That means do nothing, don’t try to run the blockade, don’t do anything that would tip them off that help is coming and force them to act sooner rather than later. Can you do that?”

Padme considered for just a moment before nodding. “I’ll tell my people—”

“Nothing. You’ll tell them nothing,” I interrupted. “No one. Not your closest advisors. Not family. If you want this to work, we need the element of surprise, right up until the last possible minute. We’re just lucky they haven’t taken the local holonet relay yet.”

The frown was back, but she nodded again. “Very well. But there is one other thing. Are you coming yourself?”

I sent her an amused look. “I’ll discuss it with Master Dooku, but assuming he agrees, then yes. I’ll be coming in person. Why?”

Biting her lip, she looked a bit awkward for just a moment, before taking a breath and steeling herself. “You are my friend and I am more grateful than you could know for coming to my aid. But I am a new queen and with this current mess, there is some uncertainty about my fitness to rule. If, when we leave the Republic and join the Confederacy, there will be more. I have to be seen as their queen. Which means observing certain etiquette in public. It also can’t look as though our rescuers are an occupation force themselves…”

“Historically, one of the best forms of legitimacy is acknowledgement from your peers,” I mused, studying her for a moment before nodding. “We’ll arrange some PR stunts once the blockade is broken. A parade, perhaps. A speech or two. A live holonet broadcast where you’ll give thanks and then swear fealty to the Confederation, and be welcomed by your peers and our own Senate—I’m sure we can drum up some people to attend. We won’t be an occupying force, your people will see us as heroes. Liberators.”

“And you?”

“Hm?” I asked, before nodding. “Of course. I’ll be the first on the ground to acknowledge you publicly and visibly show Mandalore’s support for the new regime. As I said, one of the best forms of legitimacy is being acknowledged by a peer.”

The brunette blinked. Her tone sounded confused as she asked, “What do you mean? I know you have some ties to Mandalore, but how does that factor in?”

Frowning, I went back over our conversation in my head, before understanding dawned. “You hadn’t heard, then?” I asked, and she only looked more confused. “Not long after I last saw you, I came home and secured my own title. I am the Mand’alor. I rule Mandalore and its people.”

Padme’s eyes went wide and, though it was hard to tell in the blue and white hologram, I was fairly certain she was blushing. “You’re a queen?”

“Effectively. Political leader, military leader, spiritual leader. It’s… complicated.” Luckily, the only thing that last one required was being a good Mandalore and doing things worthy of the Mandalore. And considering my history and the fact that I was a Jedi, that was pretty much in the bag at the moment. I just needed to keep it up, to ensure the ‘what have you done for me lately’ crowd could never complain.

“Oh,” she whispered. “I see.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me? I need to go make some calls and start setting things in motion. Send me an estimate of how much food you need as soon as possible and I’ll forward that to my people.”

“Y-yes, of course,” Padme nodded, an uncertain smile on her lips. “Thank you again.”

“You can thank me when I’ve finished kicking the Trade Federation out of your system,” I waved her off. “Goodnight, Padme.”

“Goodnight.”

Disconnecting the call, I turned on my terminal and began typing. As I did, I reached over and hit the button to get the comms department.

“Communications department.”

“I need to record a message. Let me know when you’re ready,” I instructed. A moment later, they acknowledged the order and I turned to the holocom. “I’ll keep this short. I received a call for aid from Queen Amidala of Naboo. Naboo will join the Confederacy if we bust the TradeFed blockade of their planet. They have an extremely valuable fuel source that would make them incredibly important to the Confederacy, so I’m authorizing you to start moving on this and prepare before I speak with Master Dooku. Satine, they’re going to need humanitarian aid. Food imports. Equipment to clear land and prepare it for farming, farm equipment, seeds and whatever else will be necessary to get them started growing their own crops, and experienced people to teach them how to clear more land and manage their crops. Tell them to expect to be there at least a year.

“Jango, we need ships mobilized and to start burning for Naboo immediately. I want two system patrol fleets worth. We’ll be leaving one of them in system when we’re done, to make sure the TradeFed don’t come back. Send them now and have them wait for rendezvous on the edge of the… Kalinda system. I’ll board the Redoubt first thing in the morning and head out, then make contact when I get there.”

With that, I ended the message and had them send it off to Mandalore at the highest priority. Then, I put a call through to the Redoubt in orbit.

“This is Mereel. All leave is canceled. Recall everyone to the ship immediately and make ready to leave no later than 0900 tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Once the call disconnected, I finished typing out my report and sent it off to Dooku and Jenza, to read in the morning. Checking the clock and seeing it was still a few hours before Master Dooku would be up, I finished up what I could, packed my things, took a shower, then settled in to meditate.

As I sat there, feeling the Force within and without, I felt a ripple in the Force—like a stone dropped in a still pond. I watched it spread, further and further away…

Something big is coming, I realized.

Perhaps it was just the coming war I felt. The Force tensing in preparation for the conflict and deaths sure to follow as the war went hot. This felt very much like the real opening move in the war I had seen coming years ago…

Or perhaps it was something more.

Is this one of Master Windu’s ‘shatter points?’

It was impossible for me to tell. All I knew for certain was that it was here, whether we were ready for it or not.

Could I have done more to prepare myself and my people? Probably. The thought had always gnawed away at me before a major offensive and this time was no different. So, I forced my thoughts onto something more productive.

How should we handle the TradeFed ships in orbit around Naboo? Should I try to steal another Lucrehulk, or should we not risk it and instead try to cripple or destroy them first? I’ll need more recent scans of the Naboo system so I know what sort of terrain we’re working with.

From there… do we want to open with the railguns, or keep those in reserve as a nasty surprise for later? Mm, no. No point to saving them. Hit them hard and get as much use out of them as we can before we lose the element of surprise and the enemy adjusts to our tactics. We’ll need to stay a step ahead of them and anticipate how they’re going to adapt to our strategies, then adapt to counter that…

I spent the rest of the last hours of the night planning possible attack strategies, before my alarm went off.

It’s time.

Once more to the battlefield. The front line. To the edge of death.