Chapter 55: Chapter 55

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

Mandalore, 39 BBY/961 GSC.

Cindy raised an eyebrow and smiled as the armored form of Sgt. Dyre fell in beside her as she started down the ramp off the ship. “Frei? You following me?”

“Sorry, something came up,” the other woman answered, amber eyes sweeping over the ramp as people began disembarking to take shore leave. “I need you and your father to come with me.”

“What for?” Cindy asked, studying the dark haired Frei. She’d spent enough time among the crew, and especially those closest to her boss, to have the taciturn brunette figured out by now. That the Mando looked nervous was a bit worrying.

“Nothing terrible. Some people want to meet the two of you,” Frei answered distractedly. A moment later, she perked up as a ground speeder came down the ramp, Cid already sitting in the back. “There’s our ride.”

Cindy frowned, but climbed into the back seat of the speeder beside her father as the sergeant climbed into the front passenger seat. The speeder car took off a moment later and Cid spoke up. “I was on my way to look for parts for my baby. This had better be good!”

The blonde rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but agree. Sgt. Dyre turned slightly in her seat to look back at them, her expression particularly serious. “When we get there, be on your best behavior.” She met Cid’s eyes, “This means you. Capt. Mereel’s weapons specialist or not, if you run your mouth, you will be made to regret it.”

The crotchety old man crossed his arms over his chest. “So, we’re meeting somebody important, then.”

“Capt. Mereel’s Master, the Mand’alor, and the civvy leader of Mandalore. Your actions reflect not just on Capt. Mereel, but on all of us. Please remember that.”

Cindy’s father sucked his teeth and looked away. “Fine. But don’t expect me to kiss anyone’s ass.”

“Master Dooku isn’t like that,” Cindy spoke up, and her father sent her a questioning look. “I’ve met him before. He’s very polite, but he doesn’t, ah,” she hesitated.

Her father smirked. “Doesn’t have a stick up his ass.”

Sgt. Dyre’s eye twitched, but Cindy nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. The other guy is basically the boss’s adopted dad. Kind of?” She looked to Frei, who made a so-so gesture.

“Clan head. It is a patriarchal role, but not quite in the same way as a father. It would be more accurate to call him an uncle, by Republic standards.”

“The last one is, uh…” Cindy scratched her head, thinking back to her occasional conversations with Tanya, when they were off duty. “Satine?”

“Right. The one who was dating Tanya’s friend, Obi-Wan, for a while.” Frei raised an eyebrow, sending Cindy an inquisitive look. The blonde quickly amended, “And we’re not bringing that up!”

“Uh huh,” Cid grunted. Quietly, he said, “She wasn’t kidding about the nepotism.”

Cindy shrugged. “It’s great when it works in your favor for once, yeah?”

“We’ll see,” her dad grumbled.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Cindy frowned as they ascended to the middle level of the domed city and approached what looked like a government building. The speeder landed in a parking garage and Sgt. Dyre got out, the Mando who had driven them staying in the vehicle as the woman led them to an elevator and from there through a security checkpoint.

They quickly got through security and took another elevator up to the top floor of the building, then through a waiting area and into a large office. Sitting at a desk in front of a large floor to ceiling wall of transparisteel windows was a blonde young woman who looked up as they entered. Across from them were a pair of older men—one in Mando armor, the other in a dark suit and a cape over it.

“Ah, and it seems our guests have arrived,” the blonde smiled, standing. The two men stood as well and introductions were exchanged all around, as the old Jedi Master sent a smile Cindy’s way.

And then her da had to go and open his mouth. “So what the hell’s this all about? I got shit to do.”

Sgt. Dyre twitched where she stood, her fists clenching loudly enough that Cindy heard the creak of leather as the woman looked like she was about to lay her dad out and the only reason she hadn’t was because of the present company. Fortunately, no one took offense. The older Mando, Jaster as he’d introduced himself, chuckled.

“You may change your mind after this. Show ‘em,” he sent a look to the blonde leader, who nodded and tapped a control at her desk.

A hologram filled the center of the room and they turned to look at it. Cindy was immediately captivated by what she saw as her dad moved closer, walking around the projection.

Named as a Kandosii-class dreadnought, the ship in the projection was large, at forty-five hundred feet. With four short wings towards the rear in an X configuration, and a fifth on the bottom that was much larger, and the somewhat blocky look of the forward section it kind of resembled a large blaster rifle. There were some theoretical specs listed that she read through and began to frown.

Her dad beat her to the punch, and much less tactfully than Cindy was going to start addressing potential issues. “It’s shit.”

The three leaders exchanged a look, before Satine huffed. “And why do you say that?”

Cid opened his mouth, but Cindy quickly beat him to it. “What is this for?” She resisted the urge to flinch as they shifted their attention to her. “Admittedly, it’s a big ship. The design looks nice.” Her da scoffed, but Cindy pressed on, “But unless you’re planning to just use this to deploy fighters, or you’ve left out some things on the spec sheet here, then it’s severely under-armed.”

Jaster smirked, sending an amused look towards Satine. “Told you. Needs more guns. It’s got the entire port and starboard vertical hull surface on the fore to mount them on.”

Cid nodded. “What’s the point of the wings unless you’re mounting something on ‘em or in ‘em? That’s where I’d stick a bunch of missile or torpedo tubes.”

“Can we get back on topic?” Satine grumbled. “Lt. Taris sent in a report on the preliminary field tests conducted with Tanya’s stealth ship and her new toy. That gun of yours. Can you install it in one of these?”

Cindy watched as her old man stiffened, his head whipping back towards the hologram so fast she thought she heard his neck crack. “Ship that big? You’d want a battery, not just one gun. Four, minimum—but you could probably squeeze eight in there. With a battery, you could fire them in sequence to hammer down shields if you’re up against something bigger.”

“I like it,” Jaster nodded.

It was Master Dooku who frowned, considering the old engineer. “There was something else about the design that bothers you?”

Cid made an annoyed sound. “Just the same fucking thing I’ve been saying for thirty years. Stop with fucking obnoxious asymmetrical designs.Shields work better in a uniform geometry configuration—the simpler the better. Which means that the simpler and more symmetrical the shape of the ship, the better it is for shield strength. Which brings me to my second big gripe—not something you have to worry about with this one, since it looks like someone with some common sense decided on bridge placement. Stop putting your bridge outside the damn ship. Flying bridges are one of the biggest weak points on any ship due to a combination of shield geometry and putting your bridge outside the armored hull. This one’s good on that at least.”

Moving closer to the hologram, he pointed to the big wing underneath the ship—specifically focusing on where it joined the rest of the ship. “All of this shit? Shield emitters have to be placed so they don’t overlap and screw with each other, which leads to problems in field geometry, where you get big weak points where they’re stretched thin.”

He stepped around the front of the ship and squatted down, before nodding. He pointed to where the big under-wing joined the ship, then moved back a bit, making a line from somewhere below and in front of it. Standing, he walked through the hologram, drawing a line with his hand straight to the rear-center of the ship. “That’s how I’d tell the brat to do it. Position her ship forward and below this big bitch. Three shots, timed to hit one after the other. Aim for where the wing joins the hull. Shields are weak and armor’s thin there. That third shot’s going to rip right through the armor and shrapnelize everything between the entry and the reactor. Then you can kiss your ass goodbye. At best, you’re floating dead in space. Realistically? Reactor goes up and takes the ship with it.”

Satine touched a button on the desk and the hologram changed to a similar design, this one listed as a Keldabe-class cruiser. Her dad eyed it and nodded. “Better on the shields, but you stuck the damned bridge outside the armored hull. Fix it. And yeah, you could stick a battery of four big coil guns in the front.”

Another hologram, this time for a Crusader-class corvette. “Two guns in the nose, stacked vertically. And move the bridge back closer towards the center. Get it out of the nose.”

The next was a Teroch-class cruiser/gunship. “One gun in the nose. You’ll need to move that quad-cannon down to make room. Same advice on bridge placement.” New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on N0veI.Fiɾe.net

With that, the three leaders exchanged a look before Jaster ask, “How’d you like to work for MandalMotors?”

“What’s the pay?” Cid asked, and Cindy sighed.

“What about the boss?”

Her old man shrugged. “What about her? This’s business. She understands that. ‘Sides, she’s off playing around in school right now.”

“And the ship?” Cindy pressed.

“Will be fine without me. They’ve got all my documentation for maintenance and everything else they’ll need.”

“We actually do need your father,” Satine sighed as she moved around her desk and tapped at the interface, shutting down the projection. As she spoke, she brought up her personal holocom and began calling a number. “We’ll need to talk to our own people of course, but he brings up some good points. If we can eliminate obvious weaknesses in our ships and increase their strength, then we need to take advantage of the chance now, while we still have time to adjust things, incorporate the new designs, and we don’t have to go back and retrofit a bunch of ships later to add the new guns.”

The holocom rang for a beat, before it picked up as audio only. “Satine. I just stepped out of class to take this,” Tanya’s voice came through the speaker.

“I’ll be quick,” the blonde smiled. “We’re poaching your engineer.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “What did you offer him?”

“A job at MandalMotors, making his dream come true,” Satine’s smile became a smirk.

“Of course you did,” the younger woman grumbled. “Fine. Fine! If you want to pay him large sums of money to go play with bigger toys, I can’t stop you. But keep your grubby mitts off my mechanic!”

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Cindy sighed as Satine laughed. “I’m not going anywhere, boss. I like the gig I have now.”

“Good. I assume Cid’s there?”

“Yeah, brat,” the old man answered.

“Mm. I’m sorry to see you go, but I don’t have the resources to compete with what Satine is offering. I’ll speak with Lt. Taris and have your severance package drawn up.”

“I can do that, ma’am,” Sgt. Dyre spoke up.

“Oh, good! That’ll save me some time then.” There was a pause, then, “I have to get back to class.”

The call disconnected abruptly and Satine nodded. “There we go. Now, we just need to speak with MandalMotors and let them know what we expect.”

Biting her bottom lip, Cindy put a hand on her hip and asked, “That explains why you wanted da here, but why me?”

It was Jaster who answered, as he grabbed a datapad off the desk and handed it to her. “Have a look and tell us what you think.”

Scrolling through, Cindy raised an eyebrow at what she saw. Sacanium alloy replacing basically everything but the frame will make it lighter by about half, if my math is right. More if we go ahead and replace the frame too. Better power plant and thrusters should really make her haul ass and let her take a pounding before the shields even begin to give. Redundant shield emitters if something does break. Better turbolasers, swapping the top one with a quad-mount. Looks like they want to add a holo-camo and emissions spoofing system and are basically giving me free reign on whatever else I want to stick in it…

“…That’s a lot of upgrades. It looks like the only things not getting an upgrade are the frame and internal wiring. Lot of time, effort, and money to upgrade something when it’d be easier to replace it. But if you’re willing to pay for it, then sure.”

“How fast can you have it done?” Jaster asked.

Cindy considered, before shrugging. “Depends on the facilities and materials available.”

“You’ll have a berth in the orbital shipyard. Everything on that list is already on site, but if you need more, we can get it,” the old Mandalorian answered.

Humming, the blonde nodded and grinned. “Well, count me in. I’ll fly her over and get started. It might take a few months though. And I’ll need to bring my droids from the ship. But uh, who’s footing the bill for this?”

“I am,” Jaster grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright. I’ll make up a wish list for anything that’s not already on this one,” she said, clicking through options and sending the list to herself.

With free reign to redesign the interior, I can do a lot more with the space available. Actually, if I’m going to do a full rebuild, I may as well make a few improvements while I’m at it. Even just a few extra feet here and there would make a world of difference…

She barely remembered the trip back as her mind busied itself with ways to make improvements.

Harnaidan, Muunilinst . 39 BBY/961 GSC.

“Thank you. That will be all,” Hego Damask nodded as his secretary left. Taking up the cup of caff she had brought, he took a sip and leaned back in his chair, pressing a series of recessed buttons on his desk that would send the office into digital lockdown. All computers in the room shut off, electronic soundproofing engaged, radio interference to disable any listening devices, and the magnetic lock on the door keeping it sealed tight from the outside.

Pulling out his personal holocom for his alter ego, Darth Plagueis the Wise placed a call to his apprentice, Darth Sidious and waited for it to pick up. After a few moments, the human from Naboo answered from his own secure room in his home on Coruscant. “Master. To what do I owe the honor?”

The munn narrowed his eyes at his apprentice, but decided to forgive the tone, for now. “Sidious, I’ve learned that the Jedi have completed their move away from the Temple on Coruscant.”

Sidious frowned. “This is quite concerning. Another hindrance to our plan,” he murmured. “I have heard nothing from my contacts about where they went. I’ll reach out to them and see if they have any new information.”

“Speak to your friends in the Senate and I will do likewise. Stress that this disappearance of the Jedi is very troubling. With tensions on the rise, the people need the Jedi now more than ever, right where we can see them,” Plagueis stressed, and the human nodded.

Plagueis quietly seethed at the prospect of being stymied this close to his plan coming to fruition. “They cannot be allowed to build up some hidden stronghold. Nor can they be allowed to withdraw from the wider universe and our influence. We must keep applying pressure. Without them allowing worldly temptations to corrupt the Jedi Order from within, there is a chance they will respond as a unified force. The Jedi divided by infighting will be a much easier foe to finally vanquish than a united Jedi Order.”

The pair fell silent for a moment before Sidious asked, “You sense it too? This disturbance in the Force, causing ripples in its wake that upset the grand design?”

“It is elusive. Fleeting and small for now, but I fear the effect will grow beyond our control soon. We must find and eliminate the source of it.” Taking a sip of his drink, Plagueis demanded, “What of Dooku?”

“He has rallied another planet to his cause. My contacts within their little alliance tell me he aims to hold a secret meeting on Serenno soon. This would make a fine opportunity to eliminate this budding third faction before it can grow.”

Plagueis considered for a moment, stroking his chin, before shaking his head. “No. As dangerous as Dooku could be to our plans, let them be for now. It will be more chaotic, yes—but another faction nipping at the Republic is all for the better. They will fight harder and all of our enemies will take more losses this way.” Remembering his conversation with Mundi, he asked, “Have you made any progress on enticing his apprentice to our cause? It would be easier to sway the Master if we have the Padawan in our thrall.”

“Not yet,” Sidious denied. “I’m giving her time to think it over, before I present an opportunity. I don’t want to make it obvious that I’ve set up a test and a prize for her. However, my contacts seem to have lost track of her. She and Dooku went their separate ways some time after departing Naboo.”

Plagueis frowned. “How do they lose a child?”

Sidious sent Plagueis an amused look. “From what I understand, and what I’ve seen firsthand, she’s very good at disappearing.”

Plagueis was about to ask something when Sidious’s holocom beeped. The human frowned. “It’s Viceroy Gunray.”

The older Sith nodded. Standing, he moved out of the field of the holocom’s video pickup and opened a hidden panel on his wall, revealing a small closet. Pulling on his robe, he pulled his hood up and sat. “Answer it.”

Sidious had pulled his own hood up by then and, a moment later, the feed was replaced by one of the imbecile, Nute Gunray. The neimoidian was barely useful as a patsy and Plagueis only tolerated him because he was Sidious’s problem to deal with. If he had to deal with Gunray himself, Plagueis would have long since collected him and used him for some live experiment in his secret lab.

“What is it?” Sidious demanded.

“My lord! I, unfortunately, I must report bad news!” the neimoidian began, and Plagueis felt his lip curl in disgust.

Sidious was likewise disgusted. “Get on with it, Viceroy.”

“You know of our efforts to claim Alaris Prime in the Kashyyyk system,” Gunray led.

“Given how much time, effort, and the resources I’ve wasted in ensuring the Senate give you time to handle the matter, I will be most displeased if you’ve come to report your failure,” Sidious growled.

“It is not our fault!” the neimoidian protested, and Plagueis had to resist the urge to reach through the feed with the Force and strangle him. “As you know, we’ve had multiple ships in the area simply go missing! We assumed it was the work of pirates, so we sent a Munificent-class to reinforce them. We, we lost contact with the ship!”

Plagueis frowned. “You lost contact with a frigate?”

“There is more. Speak!” Sidious snapped, and Gunray flinched.

“We were contacted,” he spoke, pausing to swallow thickly. “By the Jedi!”

“The Jedi?” Sidious murmured, before asking, “Which one?”

“Master Qui-Gon Jinn. He said the ship had been lost, but the crew had not. He wants to act as an intermediary between the Trade Federation and the party responsible for stealing our ship and kidnapping our crew, while they ransom them back to us! But worse! He has already contacted the Senate! They know about what is happening on Alaris Prime!”

Plagueis switched the holocom’s feed over to Sidious and found his apprentice frowning. Seeing he had his Master’s attention, Sidious tapped a button to mute the audio being sent to Gunray. “I have not heard of this. It must be very recent if no one has even contacted me about it.”

“Very likely,” Plagueis agreed. “Who in that area even has the force necessary to capture a frigate, sent to investigate potential pirates?”

Sidious unmuted the audio to Gunray. “Who is responsible for this?”

It was hard to tell in the blue on blue hologram, but it looked like the neimoidian was changing colors. “Master Qui-Gon allowed us to speak with the captain of the ship. He said it was a Mandalorian. A small, female Mandalorian. With a lightsaber.” The man’s jaw clenched and he smashed his hands into his desk. “It was her! Mereel!!!” Gunray yelled, visibly restraining himself from throwing something, his eyes going wide and full of fear as he began to visibly shake.

To react like that… Plagueis was impressed. He had heard about the events on Naboo from Sidious and had seen what security footage was available. The girl had made a lasting impression on the Viceroy, it seemed.

Gunray’s voice climbed in pitch as he continued his panicked tirade. “It must have been! You told me she left with Dooku! You said she would not—ack!”

Plagueis smirked as the neimoidian clutched at his throat, his eyes bulging as he was slowly strangled. He picked up his cup of caff and took a sip, enjoying the satisfaction of watching the life slowly choked out of the irritating man. He was only sad that Sidious had beat him to it.

Finally, with a gasp, the neimoidian lurched back in his seat and began sucking down air. Sidious quietly hissed, “Mind your tone.”

“Y-yes, my lord! I apologize!” the man managed to get out around a coughing fit.

“Handle the hostages however you see fit. I will speak with the Senate, but this will likely force their hand beyond what I can control. You should prepare to lose Alaris Prime and move on to other goals. I will contact you once I know more.”

With that, Sidious disconnected Gunray from the call. Pulling his hood back, the human sat with a thoughtful look on his face. Plagueis likewise removed his hood as he felt an amused smirk twitching onto his lips. “I see now why Mundi is so obsessed. It seems the reports from Serenno weren’t fabricated or exaggerated after all. She is a menace. Do you think this was targeted at the Trade Federation specifically?”

Sidious considered for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe so. If Jinn was there, his Padawan likely was as well. Kenobi is one of Mereel’s known associates.”

“A coincidence, then,” Plagueis mused, nodding. “Still, this sets us back. The Trade Federation needed Alaris Prime.”

“We can adapt,” Sidious shook his head. “There is still plenty of time.”

“Handle it, then,” the older Sith ordered. “And contact me when you have something on the Jedi’s whereabouts.”

With that, he disconnected the call and sat back in his chair, draining the last of his drink. Putting the cup down, he considered what he knew of the Padawan who had upset the Viceroy so. From Sidious’s own description, she was cold, logical, pragmatic, and far more mature than her age would indicate—but not without flaws. Sidious had sensed her anger, frustration, even bloodlust firsthand and had seen the outcome when she had assassinated and framed Gunray’s hired bodyguard/assassin after discovering the clawdite was working for him. She was primed and ready to dive head first into the dark side of the Force with the right push.

Perhaps tempting her to fall on her own with dark side artifacts and techniques is the wrong approach. Perhaps all it will take is the right words, at the right time…

Corulag Military Academy, 39 BBY/961 GSC. Two weeks since joining.

“Prepare for inspection!”

I frowned and came to attention beside my bunk as a full lieutenant and our group’s second lieutenant stormed their way into the four person dormitory I shared with three other women—two humans and a gray skinned woman whose species I hadn’t identified or thought to ask. As I watched, they began looking over our bunks and going through our closets and the footlockers at the foot of the beds. For some reason, they started with my bunk.

I thought, given that this was officer school, we had earned the right to be treated like adults—not children. Which means a certain degree of respect for personal boundaries, and a certain lenience towards items that would be considered contraband for a fresh recruit. And given that they’re starting with me, and it’s the second lieutenant involved, it seems this is just an extension of our little feud.

The lieutenant had been a thorn in my side since my first day here, when I showed initiative and took control of the group—and then again, when he had embarrassed himself in front of his commanding officers when he tried to prove that I wasn’t supposed to be here, only for word to come down from on high that I was and to be told to drop it. Firmly.

He didn’t like having his authority challenged—which would be understandable if he were a ranking officer, and not a single rank above me and not even fully graduated from the program himself. No, he was the sort of petty tyrant who would abuse whatever little scraps of power he had, because the system technically allowed him to. In other words, he was the sort of person who had never been taken aside and punched in the face when he crossed a line.

Worse, he was lazy—and really, I think that was the bigger issue. By assuming command of the group the first day, then doing it again the second day when he again showed up late, he was now forced to cut his breakfast time short if he wanted to be the one directing our group for morning PT. He couldn’t shirk his duties if someone was willing to step up and take over the moment he stepped away, and that made him look bad.

I had felt his anger and frustration building, and his plotting. I had been expecting retaliation of some sort and it had begun almost immediately. Unfortunately for him, I was experienced with most of the methods of hazing someone in this environment and knew how to avoid them—and in those few times where I might have been surprised, my senses, formulas, and the Force warned me something was up and kept me well ahead of his petty revenge.

“Sir,” the second lieutenant said, as he stepped away from my trunk holding my holocron—specifically, Revan’s holocron. “Potential contraband.”

Before the higher ranking lieutenant could respond, I cut in. “Article 15, subsection 1: religious and cultural observances as relates to religious paraphernalia.”

There was a moment of silence, before the higher ranked of the two said, “Put it back.”

“Now. Everything else, too.” The full lieutenant waited as the second lieutenant hurried to comply. Then, without a word, he turned and left, taking the second lieutenant with him.

“What was that about?” one of my roommates asked, but I held up a hand.

Casting a formula to pick up sound, I listened as the two hurried off. Quietly, I heard the higher ranking lieutenant hiss, “You don’t pick a fight with someone who’s memorized the rule book in the first month, you idiot.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is—”

“Go check your room. You’ve got five minutes to clear out anything you wouldn’t want a superior officer to find, then I’m tossing the place.”

Shaking my head, I picked up my datapad and got started reading ahead on the coursework as the other women settled in to keep themselves entertained for the rest of the evening. As I did, I let my mind wander.

It’s a shame, really. If you had waited a day, you might have caught the trap. As it stands, you’ve jumped the gun.

Sneaking off campus and back into the city was easy, when I could turn invisible and fly. Finding a place that sold the sort of things even the military considered contraband, and which would see one summarily (and quietly) drummed out of the service was not quite as easy, but I had managed. After that, a bit of snooping, both physically and digitally, had gotten me the date for the next scheduled dorm inspection—not the invasive sort those two idiots were attempting, but just a cursory inspection to make sure we weren’t turning the dorms into a pigsty.

As it just so happened, that inspection would be tomorrow, and by the time it came around the second lieutenant would be secure in the knowledge that his private room—one of the perks of rank—was safe. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

As far as methods for removing problems went, planting illicit, degenerate sex toys of the sort typically found in Hutt space in someone’s room in order to get them kicked out wasn’t my preferred method… but I didn’t have a pillbox near an active combat zone handy, so it would have to do. It was that, or use Mind Trick to the point of abuse—and while I may have played a bit fast and loose with it, it would become blatantly obvious that I was doing something to screw with his head eventually if I had to rely on it.

He had his chance to improve and get the message.This is a learning environment for adults, not a high school where teens hopped up on hormones can take out their frustrations on each other! Maybe now I can enjoy some peace and quiet, and get some work done.