Chapter 39: Chapter 39
A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars
Serenno, 39 BBY/961 GSC.
Of course, there were those cases of someone actually pulling themselves up by their bootstraps—flagged as anomalous by the system and caught in the same net as those beneficiaries of nepotism, but easily and quickly sorted as wheat from chaff. From humble beginnings with no formal education, but enough On the Job Training and years or sometimes decades of experience in the field to justify their position—and in some cases, replace their superiors when those superiors turned out to have been unqualified.
Some were escorted out, some were dragged out when they tried to shout about ‘injustice’ and ‘cruelty.’
I had almost scoffed. Some things never changed. Regardless, whichever class the interviewees fell into, they never returned all the same. Just names disappearing from doorplates, and new names taking their place. And I’ll say this much: for the first time in a long time, I think people were scared of losing their jobs for the right reasons.
Yes, just like my first life… how nostalgic.
Most of the people being removed hadn’t even been malicious. They had just been used to systems that rewarded loyalty over merit. Stability over scrutiny. They had grown complacent in a machine that had never asked anything more of them than obedience. A full culture of comfortable rot…
Those days were over.
Dooku and Jenza weren’t just rebuilding a government, but an entire societal standard—one they knew would have to stand not just for Serenno, but for any world thinking of joining their alliance. And as Dooku had said more than once, a government that could not govern itself had no business leading others. By the end of the first week, nearly one-third of Serenno’s mid-level bureaucracy had been dismissed or reassigned.
Of course, those was all things that were necessary, but which the vast majority of the populace of Serenno didn’t really care about, because it didn’t affect their day to day lives in ways they visibly saw, outside of taxes and prices at the store. Now however, without the taxes being sent to the Republic, Serenno could start spending that money locally.
I had the pleasure of seeing just how it was being spent during a series of tours to various newly built and opened factories across Serenno, acting as Jenza’s aid while she inspected those places. It was, of course, another government department she and Master Dooku had thrown together and convinced the council of Serenno to rubber stamp.
“This is the last one for the day?” Jenza had asked from the seat beside me, staring out the speeder’s window at the passing scenery as night fell over Serenno, as we raced the setting sun westward towards the next factory. It was only the fact that we were four time zones west of the capital that had allowed us any sunlight at all as we approached the western coast of the continent.
I had pulled out a tablet and checked it over, before nodding. It had been a long day, with an early start, and we had been five tours and ten hours in already, going on a sixth. “It’s the last one. This one produces… droids.”
“Is that the one with the labor droids, or the one with the combat droids?” Jenza had asked, turning briefly to glance at me.
I had frowned, digging through the details, before humming. “Neither. They make astromechs and pilot droids to run speeders, cargo haulers, luxury yachts, and apparently they’re prototyping them to fly fighter craft.”
“Oh good. Much better to send dedicated droids than risk our own people if something were to happen,” she had smiled.
I had shaken my head. “If they’re anything like the Trade Federation droids, I wouldn’t trust them to pilot a fighter for anything other than simple missions. As in, go from Point A to Point B. Or flying a bomber and dropping a payload on a target. For an actual craft meant to intercept living, thinking beings, you want to put a person in the seat.”
Looking thoughtful, Jenza had asked, “Was their programming that bad?”
“They were slow, slow to react, their fire had a less than fifty percent accuracy rate, and they couldn’t improvise or adapt to unexpected or changing situations. Perhaps if they had been led by a competent, living commander they might have fared better.”
“I see.” Sighing softly, she asked, “What are your thoughts on our other visits today?”
I had flipped back through my notes on the tablet and started at the beginning. “The first was that sacanium processing facility. The inspectors didn’t find anything that stood out. Everything was up to code—beyond code, in fact. I did note that they took some extra safety steps to protect their biological workers and sent those off to send out as a policy update to set the standard across the board for our safety expectations. The interviews with their management, both for the office and the plant floor, didn’t turn up anything but a bunch of people who are happy to be taking home more money. The financial review showed everything was above board. Wages and benefits are generous, and their paid vacation time made me a bit jealous. This is the furthest thing from a black company I’ve seen to date.”
“Mm.” Jenza had hummed, before a smile crossed her lips. “Make a note. Put them up for some sort of minor official award. Outstanding performance or something along those lines. Perhaps some sort of bonus for their employees for their hard work in their efforts to help get Serenno standing on its own two feet.”
“Alright,” I had agreed, adding the note and sending it through to let someone else take care of that. “On to the second. It was a metal fabrication plant. They make parts for everything. And I do mean everything on the planet, as far as we can tell. From the emitters on your sonic toothbrush, to the parts that make up the factory machinery across Serenno, to the custom parts my mechanic had to have fabricated and rush delivered for my ship.”
Jenza had frowned at that. “How many factories do they have?”
She had shaken her head. “That sounds like critical infrastructure. Please mark it as such if we haven’t already. We’ll need to urge them to expand. If we have to throw money at them to ensure that one plant going down doesn’t cripple our entire supply chain for months or years, then that’s what we’ll need to do.”
“Noted,” I had nodded, typing out exactly that on my tablet, before returning to my summary. “Similar results to the first. Everything above board and in the green. Very high worker satisfaction. Their production numbers are through the roof, but they can’t keep up with the volume. Those extra facilities should alleviate that issue. One thing of note: the company head is from one of the minor noble families. Nothing untoward was found, but they’ve been flagged for monitoring just in case.”
“I expect that will probably turn out to be nothing, but it’s better to be cautious here and avoid setting and visible precedent of implied or perceived favoritism, even if there factually was none.” Jenza had sighed, before chuckling. “I hate how much of this is theater. Just going through the motions now, so that in the future, no one can point back to a lapse and use that as some legal justification to try and excuse their own actions.”
“Sometimes, these things are performative,” I had murmured, nodding. “It’s as much about being seen doing what is right, as it is actually doing what’s right.”
“Haah. Right. On to the next one?”
Flipping over to the next report, I had answered, “Plasteel production and casting. They make and cast or cut to shape the plasteel that goes in or on most goods.”
Jenza had frowned. “Sounds like another single point of failure.”
I had nodded. “They have two plants. And following the pattern, the next was a general consumer good mid-stage assembly plant. They take those pre-fabricated parts the other plants make and assemble them into individual parts, that are then shipped to the manufacturing plants where they’re put together into the final product. If we’re using this speeder for our example, they would assemble the doors, the seats, the repulsorlifts, then ship all of that to the factory where they put all of those parts onto a frame and roll out a finished speeder.”
Reaching up, the woman had cringed as she rubbed at her forehead. “So another potential problem if the Trade Federation sent someone down to sabotage something. Make a note to allocate more money for more plants. They can pay us back later. We knew decoupling from the Republic and building up our own robust economic and manufacturing base would require some extra work just to make sure that we could survive any attempts at reprisal, but the sheer scale of it is just a bit overwhelming.”
“Yes, but just think. Once this is finished, the planet will be free of the noose the Republic had you tie around your own necks.”
The woman had sent me an amused look at that. “You sound happy.”
Shrugging, I had looked away, returning to my tablet. “I enjoy seeing diligent hard work pay off.”
As for me, I had been given a list of jobs I could take or leave—when I wasn’t busy helping Master Dooku, Jenza, or both of them. The pay on them was good, and money was a resource that was always in demand, so I wouldn’t be refusing any of them. I would almost call them chores, except that would imply that they were of little importance, when in fact it was the opposite.
My very first solo mission, for instance—the one I was on right now…
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I had walked into the office that morning to find Master Dooku and Jenza in a particularly foul mood as they sipped at their cups of caff, speaking with a uniformed man on a holocall reporting in.
“—and as of this morning, we’ve recovered the pilot but there’s no sign of the freighter. It appears as though they turned it around and jumped back into hyperspace after they commandeered it.”
I had taken my place behind the Count and Countess, silently listening as I finished off my morning tea. Jenza’s anger and frustration was expected—the woman wasn’t a Jedi and despite being a politician, didn’t have the sort of mental training that would let her just shove away her feelings even if she could avoid showing them on her face.
“And the pirates? Any sign of them?” Jenza had asked, and the captain shook his head, visibly just as frustrated as Jenza felt.
“No, Countess. Our fighter patrols have found nothing. We suspect they’re hiding in the asteroid belt somewhere, but with the high metal content, it’s impossible for active long range scanners to differentiate between asteroids and ships hiding. Not to mention, the field is thick enough that in order for our other sensors to work, we would need to have line of sight, which means entering the asteroid field and doing a thorough sweep. We’re talking about an area spanning a ring in orbit around the entire system, with the mass a thousand times that of Serenno itself.”
“The proverbial needle in the haystack,” I had murmured, and the captain glanced over before nodding.
“More like a needle in a stack of raw iron and nickle. I can’t emphasize enough just how ill-equipped standard sensors are for this task. A conventional search outside of the area near where the ship’s path was projected and our sensors picked up blaster fire would take months, and wouldn’t guarantee results. If they’ve gone dark, our pilots could fly right past them and would never know it. Our only suggestion at the moment is to wait for those ships from Mandalore to arrive, then when they do, set up patrols around the main hyperspace exit and route over the field.”
Master Dooku had been… angry. A rare sight indeed. His jaw had flexed where he sat, silently staring at the ship captain delivering his report. Finally, after what felt like a full minute, the older man had shaken his head. “We do not have months, captain. We need that plasma to fuel our factories. Another lost shipment and they will be forced to shut down.”
“Yes, Count. Would you like us to retask some ships from the planetary defense fleet to go set up that patrol?”
Taking a deep breath, Master Dooku had let it out in what was almost, but not quite a sigh. “No. The moment they sense weakness around the planet, it’s possible they may maneuver to get close and bombard the surface. A strike on our facilities would be even more crippling than the loss of fuel to run them.” Pausing, he had considered for a moment, before coming to a decision. “I have another idea in mind. Thank you for for your report, captain. You may return to your duties.”
“Yes, sir,” the captain had saluted, before the comm shut off.
With that, Master Dooku had turned to me, his eyes meeting mine. “Padawan, you mentioned wanting to go hunt pirates. I am afraid that I cannot ask you to put that mission off any longer. Hunt them down. Use the Force to find them.”
I had grinned then, and for some reason Jenza had gone very still. “Is this a simple reconnaissance mission, or recon in force? Should I handle it myself, or would you prefer I contact the Serenno Navy for backup if I find them?”
“Reconnaissance in force. You are free to engage them if you believe you can do so safely. Otherwise, if you feel the need, you may contact the navy for assistance.”
I had nodded, before asking, “What’s my pay for this?”
Jenza had tapped away at her computer for a moment. “The value of each of the last three shipments lost was between ten and twenty million credits—averaging out to fifteen million. Five hundred thousand credits to locate and destroy them—either yourself or with assistance from the navy.” Pausing, she had glanced up at me and said, “I remember your boarding action over the planet when you came with my brother and the other Jedi to retake the planet. An additional five hundred thousand if you can take their ship and keep a few of their officers alive for us to interrogate.”
Humming, I had eyed the woman for a moment as I considered the offer. Finally, I countered, “I want salvage rights for whatever ship and materials I find, if I can take it.”
“In addition to the pay.”
Master Dooku had chuckled at that, before nodding. “Very well. If you manage to take their ship for yourself, it’s yours.”
“Well, then! If there’s nothing else…?”
“There are a few other things we could use your help with. Things it would be useful to have a Jedi for, that my brother can’t seem to find time for.”
“Jenza, you know as well as I do just how busy we’ve been,” Master Dooku protested, and the woman smiled.
“I’m aware, dear brother. I am simply suggesting that you should delegate more. Young Tanya is perfectly capable of handling these tasks. You don’t need to see to them yourself.” I had nodded at that and Jenza had sent me a smile. “I’ll have a list compiled by the time you get back.”
Nodding, Master Dooku had added, “You won’t have much time, I’m afraid. I must begin my tour to rally support and gather allies for our cause. I will be going to Naboo at the end of the month as our first stop on that tour and I would like to have you with me, Padawan. I’ll introduce you to my friend and trade partner, Senator Palpatine. I at least owe it to him to break the news of Serenno’s official stance and our alliance in person, as this may affect trade relations with Naboo.” A smile had pulled at his lips and he had continued, “I also have a little surprise planned for you, but I won’t spoil it.”
“A surprise?” I had asked, before glancing at Jenza.
“Oh no, don’t look at me! I’m not going to spoil it for him,” she had laughed.
“Very well. I should get a move on then. It may take a few days to find the pirates.”
I found myself pulled from my thoughts, my eyes flying open and my hands moving almost on their own as I jerked the ship up into the asteroid belt and cut the throttle, slowing the ship to a crawl. As I did, Arthree beeped and one of the displays lit up showing a reading he had picked up—a radar beam I had nearly flown straight into, pointed up (or down, rather) and out of the asteroid belt.
“Well… That’s promising. Also worrying,” I mused, slipping the Dagger slowly between asteroids until I could get eyes on what was beaming out that radar signal without getting painted myself. Once I was in position, I routed Arthree’s visual sensor to a feed on my helmet and hummed as he highlighted what looked to be a probe droid.
The thing was black and covered in red lenses and antennae, along with four legs that, combined with the shape of its body, made it look something like a crab.
The droid was small—tiny, really. It was practically invisible in the asteroid field to anyone who didn’t know it was there. If I hadn’t been paying attention and heeded the warning I’d felt beforehand, the thing would’ve picked me up on visual or thermal sensors before the radar spotted me.
“Arthree, do you recognize it?” I asked, only for the droid to warble in the negative and a text box to pop up on one of my screens displaying, [No match found.] “If it’s not in the database, then either it’s new, or obscure.”
Drumming my fingers on the flight controls, I hummed quietly as I thought it over.
The Trade Federation declared trade in and out of Serenno shut down. Afterwards, large freighters coming and going were being raided. Serenno put together a navy of their own, so now only the inbound ships are really being raided since no one has to come out this far to jump to hyperspace and they don’t want to risk coming closer to the planet. Between the disturbing regularity with which they hit freighters and the fact that the navy kept missing them, not to mention a probe droid being where it shouldn’t, we’ve definitely got a leak somewhere. New or obscure probe droid, resourceful enough to infiltrate Serenno somewhere high enough to get intel on a last minute hunting mission out this way, smart enough to keep this up for months without being detected…
Maybe someone was wrong in their initial assumption. What if it’s not pirates? What if it’s someone committing piracy as economic warfare. A privateer? Or some government agency or entity from any one of honestly a very long list of possibilities, from the Republic, to the Trade Federation, to hired mercenaries.
…No, it doesn’t matter who they are at the moment. Only where, how many, and how heavily armed. We can sort out the who and why later.
With that decided, I eased the ship forward and kept asteroids between me and the droid, moving away from it and deeper into the field. As I went, I began to sense emotions ahead, and an undercurrent of danger in the Force. The emotions I felt ranged from boredom to a sort of duty-focus I recognized from Mandalorians who were very on mission—that is, focused on the job and getting it done—to a few with a more festive attitude, reminding me of people who had just come off duty and were relaxing.
Slowing once more, I brought the ship to a stop relative to an asteroid and eased us down onto its surface, before latching on with an anchor. Closing my eyes, I took a breath and focused, then projected myself outside of my body.
For just a moment, I hovered outside the cockpit inverted, looking up at my body sitting in the pilot’s seat. Shaking off the brief disorientation, I righted myself and pushed forward quickly, as if I were using a flight formula. Moving around the asteroid the Dagger was parked on, I felt my physical body grin at what I found on the other side.
It was a warship, with a silhouette I felt like I vaguely recognized. Splitting my attention and reaching out physically as I opened my eyes, I tapped the Dagger’s controls and began flipping through the ship identification data. I let my body advance through those quickly while I sent the rest of my consciousness zipping forward towards the blacked out ship—all external lights off, transparisteel windows to the bridge darkened from this side, and the hull painted a non-reflective black that would have made it look like a hole in space flying through the black if it weren’t hiding in amongst the asteroids.
I estimated its length at about one hundred and sixty yards, putting it in the corvette class for warships. The design looked reminiscent of a Hammerhead-class cruiser, but with a much more steeply angled vertical axe instead of a hammer. Moving closer, I spotted several gun emplacements on its upper surface and what looked like places for retractable turrets along the bottom—with the bottom side much more heavily armed than the top. Fınd the newest release on N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
It looks like it’s meant for either planetary air support or for flying over the top of a larger, slower moving enemy and hammering their shields down before getting out quickly for larger ships or fighters to come in and do damage. The weapons on the upper deck are more likely for self-defense while it’s performing its main role. Upper deck splits down the middle, so it’s carrying at least a wing or two of fighters—eight to twelve depending on their size. Eight full sized starfighters, maybe twelve snub fighters.
And what are freighters but very large, lightly armed, armored, and shielded targets they can pop out, hammer the shit out of, and then threaten into compliance? Based on their inverted orientation relative to the rest of the asteroid field, they’ve been doing exactly that. Popping up—or down from their perspective—moving into position, and just hitting them with a broadside. They may have intended to eventually even strike the surface, but that all changed when Serenno purchased a navy. Now, they don’t dare risk it, because they know they’re outgunned and outclassed. This thing is meant either for a support role to ground troops or larger ships, or for exactly what it’s doing—harassment of targets weaker than it.
It made sense, but there were things about it that bothered me. Those drones, for starters. The tactics and generally higher level of competence than I expected from pirates, given my experience with the Abyssins. The fact that the ship very obviously wanted to be as stealthy as possible. Most pirates weren’t known for subterfuge or stealth, to my knowledge.
It was too well-organized. Too well-equipped. It stank of government involvement.
I blinked, my attention shifting back to the cockpit for a moment as I stopped on one silhouette in particular. The ship before me most closely resembled a Cumulus-class corsair—with a manufacturer in the Corporate Sector, galactic northeast of us and practically our next door neighbors along the Hydian Way. If I recalled correctly, they were a member of the Corporate Alliance—an entity similar in scope to the Trade Federation and Intergalactic Banking Clan.
Shifting my focus back to my projection, I sped across the space between myself and the corsair and slipped through the transparisteel ‘windows’ onto the bridge. What I found erased any doubts in my mind that this was a military operation. The six men and women sitting or standing at various stations on the bridge all wore very neat and tidy uniforms, with visible rank insignia. The interior of the ship was clean, with a sort of thoroughness I’d seen from the navy in my previous life when I’d occasionally traveled by ship.
Sitting in the captain’s chair was a human man looking bored as he read over something on a screen attached to his chair. “No sign of the Jedi’s ship?”
“None yet, sir,” the officer on the sensor station reported.
The man on station at the helm glanced over his shoulder and asked, “Are we sure the information was accurate?”
“It came from our employer’s highest placed informant,” the captain answered absently. “He’s being paid good money for accurate intel.” Standing, the captain said, “I’m going to the mess to stretch my legs and grab some caff. Call me immediately if our droids pick up anything.”
I followed along behind the captain as he took an elevator down from the bridge, studying the ship layout as we went and figuring out which people went with which presences I was feeling in the Force. By my count, the ship had a crew of seventy souls—most of those apparently in the hangar area, either as pilots on standby or mechanics and other ground crew meant to support those pilots.
Leaving the captain behind, I slipped through the hull of the ship and into the engine room, taking everything in as I began making a plan for how to deal with the ship and, more importantly, the informant. Finally, I returned to my body and tapped the button to get Arthree’s attention.
“I need you to do something for me…”