The Force Wills - Chapter 132

“So you’re the reason the training cubes need so much recharging.”

Saw Gerrera was so utterly surprised by my appearance, he froze for the briefest of moments. The holocubes, which had taken on the appearance of B1s and B2s, nailed him in the back with a mild stun shot that forced him to take a knee.

He impressively kept himself from giving out any outward indication of pain, even as another shot landed and the simulated droids marched inward to surround him.

I reached out with the Force and every holocube shut down.

Saw looked away from me, holstering his blaster. I could sense he was fighting his pain response quite successfully. His capacity for it was impressive for someone untrained and his rhydonium exposure played a part.

He stood and looked at me with respect, including the clear spark of appreciation, which I really didn’t want to think about. I was currently dressed as a commoner going out for a ride on a ruping; calf high boots, clingy durable green pants and a sleeveless airy white tunic.  

“Yes, well, General Skywalker said it, we have the fight of a generation ahead, I intend to be ready for it.”

“Clearly, as it’s five in the morning and there’s an important briefing scheduled at six. Are you going to be able to stay awake in it?” I folded my arms and gave a pointed raise of my left brow, which thanks to my latest adjusted facial patterning, let me do a fair Spock impersonation.

“I had three hours of sleep, good enough for me,” Saw asserted, looking out of the windows of the large warehouse the rebels had appropriated for training. It was just across the street from the Onderonian Liberation Front headquarters. A name they had finally agreed on to use for themselves, which would open all sorts of possibilities - not just for ‘brand’ recognition but also for communication of their vision to the people. “We were only allowed four in the slave camp and the routine they electro whipped in me doesn’t go away easily.”

I gave a gesture, the holocubes rose off the ground and returned to their recharge cradles. Far from being intimidated at such a gesture of my power in the Force, it only further intrigued and heightened his impression of me.

It could only be the Force and this universe’s continuing idea of a joke - that I’d end up being the romantic interest of another difficult prospect - Saw freaking Gerrera. In another timeline, the Ahsoka that had come to Onderon had been younger and now here I was, falling right into the right time and place for this butterfly to smack me in the face.

“Come, let’s get some breakfast, there’s a long day ahead.”

We emerged into the cool early morning air of Iziz, the sun streaming its first light over the capital. The early risers were already awake and the din of the city began increasing; rupings flying overhead, the factories of the Slagworks district began their startup procedures and in some cases were already in full operation, sending columns of radiant steam up into the sky from coolant towers.

In the HQ kitchens, the designated cooks for the day were hard at work. It was one of the first changes we had to make for the OLF, as they transitioned from an existence in the jungle where it was every sentient handling their own daily rations and cleanliness, to an organized military existence in the city. There couldn’t be over 180 cooks in the two kitchens, so we had five designated volunteers for each who cooked for three days, before another rotation of volunteers relieved them for the next three days.

I sat down with my plate of tee-mus meat, a local herbivore that had the distinct flavor and texture of an exotic game meat to my taste buds but it was old hat to the locals.  

Saw sat down across from me at the large table, which was one of half a dozen in the designated mess hall. Bleary eyed rebels were trickling in with every passing moment.

“So, is this the big briefing?”

“If by big, you mean who I think the OLF should target among the aristocracy, then yes.”

Saw swallowed down a spoonful of a local porridge, “Finally, days of just gunning down droids and disabling tanks. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that we can do that but it’s not really achieving anything.”

“Days needed for my spying and recon work,” I pointed a fork at him. “Rash is not the only target to distract, or do you think it a coincidence I assigned a rebel strike to hit a droid position at a specific time and place?”

Saw grinned, his eyes twinkling, “I’m coming to see that you do nothing without some larger plan or scheme.”

I gave him a flat look, “And you’d do well to remember that, Saw and that I’m a Jedi who can read intent like a datapad.”

That finally got him to visibly pause before taking another bite, his amorous thoughts grinding to a halt. “Oh, I see and you don’t… appreciate it?”

I sighed and took another bite, interrogating my own feelings and admitting on a personal level that this young Saw Gerrera was roguishly handsome, with features sharp enough to cut. “On the contrary, I’m rather flattered and I hope you realize you’re far from the first who’ve expressed such interest and I’ve turned them down. I’ve travelled the galaxy in this war and my path has taken me many places. Though I’ve stopped for a while on Onderon, I will eventually leave. You know this, yet are still interested. This either means you don’t care for such absence in a partner or you’re merely looking for a ‘quick fling’. Which is it, I wonder.”

“A bit of both,” he readily admitted, to his own credit. “I grew up on a farm, had an idealistic idea of the galaxy and Onderon’s place in it as you could imagine. I imagined that I’d get married to a loving wife, have kids and inherit the farm eventually. Then the Separatists came, I was carried into slavery. There’s nothing quite so harsh in teaching you the ugly truth of this galaxy. I lost all such illusions and dreams. It was all stripped away. My parents were killed, the farm taken. That old Saw died and learned to live day by day, because at any moment we would either be dead or wish we were.” He looked up from his porridge bowl to meet my eyes. “So yes, I’m interested in Ahsoka Tano. Tell me to kriff off and I will, otherwise, we just see where it will go… day by day.”

I didn’t answer, mostly because I was eating and carefully probing current probability lines going forward.

Saw just looked down again, took a bite from his porridge and waited patiently. A virtue that was won in pain and suffering in a rhydonium labor camp.

“Well, we’ll just have to see, Saw Gerrera. I’m not currently looking. My heart is a fickle thing which has already fallen in love, it will most likely end up being unrequited because that object of affection is so out of my league with complications. I’m also the head of a Mandalorian clan, close to the royal throne and might have to marry in alliance for politics. That’s even before the Jedi Order comes into the equation.”

Saw blinked in raw astonishment, “You’re the Manda’lor of a Mando clan? Which one?”

“Vizsla.”

He just stared at me for a long while and eventually shook his head, “Anyone else tells me that, I’d think they’re trying to pull a con, but you’re you, a Jedi and I’m seriously talking to the leader of the most militant Mando clan out there.”

“Does that bother you? I know Onderon has a contentious history with my people. We did conquer your planet in the past.”

“That’s about as relevant to today as the old Sith Empire.”

I could only chuckle at that assertion. “Finish your porridge, Saw.”

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We met in the Rebel Council room afterward and for this meeting had a much smaller attendance, with the room locked down.

Chewie, Saw, Steela, Lux and about six of the most senior rebels that most definitely weren’t spies or even sleeper agents. As much as the latter was highly unlikely given the sheer young age of the rebellion, it was entirely possible that a rebel might cross back over to Rash, with the hopes of gaining recognition and riches from the CIS backed usurper. I was keeping a careful watch on the souls inside the building and beyond, sensing any indicator emotions that would lead in that direction.  

“Good morning to you all,” I began, surveying everyone in the room. Everyone looked fine and alert, though I sensed Steela and Lux were occasionally distracted with each other. 

“For the past four days, we’ve conducted a fairly successful harassment campaign of droid forces. We’ve had five injuries and two deaths, which is amazing, considering the odds that are against us. None of this has been in vain, however, because it not only keeps Rash distracted but it also allowed me to infiltrate and do some much needed reconnaissance. Which in turn, leads me to the OLFs first true target.”

I held up a palm holoprojector and tapped it.

A square screen popped up showing the profile of a very particular woman.

Lux gaped as he clearly recognized her, Saw’s face grew dark and stormy, whilst Steela blinked in astonishment. The other rebels murmured somewhat in awe.

“Some of you clearly recognize Lady Veyra Thalindra, Duchess of Onderon and High Custodian of Jente Expanse.”

The woman was the very essence of regal and commanding, sharp cheekbones, piercing emerald eyes and jet-black long hair woven with silver diadems in flowing onderonian designs, denoting her high rank.

“She is head of House Thalindra and controls roughly 70% of the rhydonium mines on the planet. A position her family has because the Jente Expanse has below it a subterranean network that contains the richest deposits of said mineral.”

“You really think we can sway someone like that to our cause? They’re the richest family on Onderon,” Steela said eventually.

“And one of the oldest,” Lux stared hard into the holo of the noble woman. “I don’t know, commander. I’ve met Lady Thalindra and she is fully loyal to Rash. I know for a fact she didn’t raise one word of objection when Dendup was deposed and since then has done everything he said.”

I internally sighed and had to remind myself that for all that Lux was being groomed by his mother into politics and leadership, he was still relatively young. She had yet to introduce him to the dark side that came with the territory. Though he had been tempered by his experiences of survival in the jungle, he had yet to learn of the monsters with sharp smiles that walked on two feet. His mother had been planning to open his eyes within the year, but then their separation had happened.

It would’ve been nice if I could make use of Fulcrum to connect the two again, but Lux was not a recruitment prospect. I would at least be able to provide Mina with an update on her son that wasn’t subject to information control or self-censorship.

“Lady Thalindra is doing what anyone in her position would do, survival, looking after her House and her own interests. By my own observation and many accounts of her, she is a shrewd businesswoman and noble who can tell which way the wind is blowing and will yield to it, lest it otherwise destroy her. Raising any word against Rash with the droid army of the Separatists at his back, not to mention a political power that effectively controls a fair percentage of the galaxy at the moment, is not wise when you want to retain your own freedom.”

“Saving her own skin at the cost of how many of her fellow onderonians,” Saw sneered. “It was one of her mines that I was enslaved in.”

I glared at him warningly, “Something she will be living with on her conscience for the rest of her days, yet I challenge anyone in her shoes not to make the exact same decisions. I observed her residence for two days and she is not happy with the current state of affairs, to say the least. She has to be careful though, because Rash has her under surveillance and she knows it. There are at least two members of her household staff who report to Rash directly, only one of which she suspects, but can’t do anything about.”

“So we recruit her into the OLF?” Lux asked, whilst Saw glared at him for suggesting it.

“There is no greater pillar of support for Rash at the moment, which can be turned to supporting you,” I gestured to the rebels around the room. “Even if she is convinced, it will not be overt support. At best she can provide a direct ear into the Royal court, funds and other intelligence on droid positions around her mines, but this is the first crucial step that needs to happen if you’re to succeed.”

Steela sat back, looking around and reading the room, “Let’s do it.”

“Agreed,” said Lux eventually.

All eyes turned to Saw.

His jaw muscle was bulging as he grit his teeth behind his lips. “Fine, but I want there to be some form of reckoning or justice after the war is over, for Thalindra and all others like her.”

“Saw, the very courts that’ll be used for that will have judges that are just as guilty of injustices committed under Rash’s orders,” Lux pointed out.

“Then we get new judges!”

“Your society will need to come to terms with this period after the war is over,” I explained solemnly. “How you choose to do so will determine whether you stay as Onderonians, reconcile and recognize that everyone was put into an impossible position by a greater external force or fracture yourself into an entirely new civil war. The latter of which will be playing right into the Separatist’s hands, because if they can’t have the rhydonium, they’ll certainly not want it going to the Republic. A civil war on this planet will be just the ticket to achieving that.”

“So it’s all about the kriffing rhydonium in the end?” Saw’s accusatory glare was rather amusing.

“Yes, it would be nice for those minerals to flow into the Republic, but they are currently only trickling through towards the Separatists, who must sneak through the front lines in cloaked light freighters. You can imagine this is another reason why Lady Thalindra isn’t happy, as the rhydonium is building up faster than can be shipped offworld. It therefore is being stockpiled at greater and greater cost, which is another reason her recruitment into the OLF is only of benefit to her in the long run. Personally, I couldn’t give a frak where it goes, as long as its sale is to the benefit of the Onderonian people.

“Now, let’s talk about how we’re going to contact the esteemed Lady in such a way that doesn’t see her joining King Dendup in a prison cell.”

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Veyra opened her eyes to another day.

A day that had seemed to be repeating itself for more than a year.

She regarded a luxurious large bed that was empty, missing the presence of her husband, who was still functionally trapped on Raxus Prime. His absence was like a black hole in her heart, pulling away all warmth and any possibility of joy. The walls of the mansion, decorated with thousands of years of her family’s history in classic paintings, hunting trophies of the wild beasts of Onderon so old that her family had to have full time taxidermist just to make sure they didn’t fall apart, tapestries and carpets so beautiful, it felt like sacrilege to walk on them, yet all of it felt like a prison these days.

She thumped her head against her pillow, working up the will to even get out of bed.

Eventually, she managed that small victory and arose blearily, absently stripping off her sleeping gown and walking into the expansive refresher.

She let the blissfully warm water batter her from all sides, trying and failing not to remember all the delightful times Jegan was in here with her, running up the mansion’s water bill. She barely managed to resist the temptation of pleasuring herself at the moment.

Veyra almost punched the controls to switch the soapy water off when she could no longer ignore the pruning of her skin and the drying stream of accelerated air started automatically.

She emerged from the fresher feeling only slightly better and sat down in front of her vanity, her hands automatically beginning the process of visually transforming her into the formidable Lady Thalindra. 

The small door in the vanity opened and B4-CU, her personal grooming droid, floated out.

“Good grief, mistress, what are you doing with your hair?!”

She paused, realizing that her hands had already begun folding and weaving her tresses into a style she remembered from her youth.

“It’s all yours, CU,” she said, turning instead to applying the foundation on her cheeks.

The droid puffed up, muttering about inept organics who couldn’t even remember a simple triple hair weave, and its dexterous manipulators got busy coaxing her hair into the current style she preferred. It was grand, but not too ostentatious, practical that could use her own hands to fix if it was required during the day.

It wasn’t long until the mirror reflected the face she presented to the world and her thoughts turned to the rest of her body. Still looking like she was in her late twenties, despite having brought three children into the world, all of whom were already adults and involved in their own businesses around Onderon. The benefits of wealth and being able to travel to a world with rather relaxed laws regarding such things.

She stood and walked into her closet, deciding from among the latest Onderionian styles had always been a pain, since she always had to keep in mind who she was meeting during the day. These days she couldn’t find it in herself to care, and chose the first thing that crossed her eye; indigo and gold robes embroidered with shimmering auridium-threaded designs.

She emerged from the master bedroom and into the expansive hallway that ran as the main spine through the mansion.

“Good morning, Lady Thalindra,” said Pomur Gerr, her household chief of staff, appearing right on time as always and synchronized flawlessly to his Lady’s shifting schedule. The regal looking togruta was dressed to within an inch of perfection as always, his long lekku and montrals adorned with the curving thin patterns favored on Onderon.

“Morning, Gerr, anything to report?” she asked as he fell in step next to her.

“The groundskeeper is asking for extra manure shipments, with the current soil readings he estimates that our garden will be looking rather barren come next season.”

“Can’t have that, now can we? Make sure it happens,” she said, Gerr immediately tapped the order into his datapad.

“Also your speeder for today’s mining inspection has been serviced and fully fueled. You could take a trip around the planet, if you so wished.”

“I’m just far too busy, but it’s ever so tempting,” Veyra let her mouth twitch with amusement, her eyes twinkling just so. She honestly wished she could truly feel that level of impulsive adventurism again. The days when she could just grab the family star yacht and hyper anywhere in the galaxy.

“The Royal Guard has also sent a message indicating the adjoining street will be open before your scheduled departure.”

“Kriffing terrorists,” she said with just the right amount of sneer.

“Quite so, my Lady.”

“And they didn’t even send a preliminary report?”

“No, my Lady.”

“I’ll have to make sure I wring the ears of our Minister of Security at court tonight.”

“If my Lady would be so kind as to wear her stealth holosensor, I could use a laugh.”

“Anything for you, my dear Gerr, considering you helped babysit the man.”

“The latest financials are waiting at your seat in the main dining hall, along with your breakfast. Bargu has outdone himself today, the broadleaf has never looked so succulent, the bread fresh from the oven is-”

“I’m sure it’s delicious as always,” she interrupted him curtly. She understood her staff were trying everything in their power to keep her spirits up, but it just made her feel much too spoiled, even by the standards that she was used to.

He opened the door for her and bowed her into the dining hall.

Her shoes echoed on the highland stone floor, polished to mirror sheen and reflecting the overhead chandelier’s lighting. The long table, which could easily seat more than a hundred guests at a time and had done so on many occasions in the past, smelt of the fragrant wood it was made from. She trailed her hand on its smooth surface, her eyes taking in the carefully carved reliefs below the outer layer, depicting a vast historical diorama of Onderon’s ancient past.

Her mind brought up the stories her grandfather would tell using it, talking of the ancient Beast Wars, the Naddits Uprising, first contact with the Old Republic, the assignment of Jedi Master Arca Jeth as the planet’s Watchman, the Mandalorian invasion. It had fascinated her so much as a child and what she wouldn’t give to have grandpa back again so he could advise her on just what the kriff to do about the situation Onderon faced today.

The planet was literally living through a period that would be written about in history for future generations. What would the historians write?

That it was ushered into a new golden age under the auspices of the CIS, shaking off the yoke of a corrupt Republic, as all Rash’s propagandists spewed out or that the planet was led to ruin, its glory and infrastructure smashed by a vengeful Republic.

She sat down at her breakfast at the head of the table, began eating with her right hand and picked up the datapad to study.

Just looking at it made her want to slump in her seat. It was as if her spirit wanted to drain out of her feet and spread all over the floor.

The financials for Thalindra Energy Works made for dismal reading, a nearly sixty percent decline in year-on-year revenue. She could practically feel every previous noble head of the family staring over her shoulder from their positions in the Force. Their accusatory stares hitting the back of her head, that she should’ve found a solution to the problem already!

The income from the CIS sales was coming, but the volume just wasn’t there to sustain the economies of scale. Until those clankers could find a way to cloak an entire bulk freighter, it wouldn’t happen.

Even local sales for domestic industry only accounted for barely eleven percent of the old pre-war market. For all of Rash’s promises, his policies and back room ‘encouragement’ of local business leaders, it had only managed to push that up to eighteen percent.

Either way, she was looking at a massive contraction of all operations over the next year. There was simply no choice. Anything that affected TEW, had a major impact on House Thalindra.

Her forebears had been wise enough to spread the House’s investment across many sectors of the Onderonian economy; a tanking rhydomium market would not be the end, but it would hurt massively nonetheless.

She had to face the fact that there was no clever ploy, gambit or brilliant masterstroke that could be applied. The rhydomium industry that had been built on Onderon had been designed from the ground up to supply at minimum a sector-wide demand, from Kuat in the Core to a fair slice of Hutt space in the east. The war and Rash’s ambition for power had in the end left the planet isolated and surrounded.

There was nothing to be done, but to just eat up the losses and adapt… somehow.

Her fork clinked loudly on an empty plate and she looked down only to find she had been so engrossed that there was no breakfast left, she had eaten it all on autopilot.

She dropped the utensil with slight disgust at herself. Before all this she would’ve never been so unmindful of anything. Every action had to be deliberate, calculated. Awareness of her own surroundings had to be kept at all times. Her late father would’ve been appalled.

House Thalindra was powerful and rich, a state of affairs which attracted envy and made enemies.

Grandfather had nine assasination attempts during his lifetime, her father had twelve, all had failed and only old age had claimed them in the end because of the rigid training and discipline they had received. From when she had been old enough to understand words and concepts as a tiny girl, she had been trained similarly.

An assassin would’ve found her easy prey at that moment.

She took a deep breath, in and out, slowly, casting off her useless anger.

It happened Veyra, get over it and move on.

In moments, she fell back into the mindset worthy of Thalindra, taking up the reins she had dropped in her weakness.

She stood with her datapad and walked briskly. Gratified to feel that in her lapse she still had remembered to put on the thigh straps for her holdout blaster pistol, perfectly designed to fit between her legs, even as she walked.

A few minutes later she was emerging from the mansion itself and into the enclosed parking for the various speeders that the House owned. It was a collection of vehicles that ranged in age from a vintage 900 year old Czerka Enforcer to a modern Rendili. Each had their use, from sporty speed to being able to support a hunt in the most remote jungles.

For her purpose today, it was the Corellian Vanguard.

An armored and shielded speeder with enclosed seating for six, plus the pilot at the front, partially enclosed.

Rolmir, her family’s pilot and mechanic for the last decade, was already seated inside, doing the final checklist and waved at her through the polarized transparisteel.

The speeder’s side door hissed open and she deftly took a seat, organizing her robes properly to avoid them bunching up.

“Morning, my Lady.”

“Morning Rolmir, everything all right?”

The lean and wiry pilot, dressed in a professional dark green driver uniform trimmed in silver, tipped his hat with a slight salute, a sign of his time in the Onderonian guard. “All systems green and locked in, my Lady.”

“Then by all means, let’s go.”

“As you order, my Lady.”

The speeder thrummed to life underneath her, only minor vibrations making it through to the cabin before being damped out entirely into a barely perceptible background hum. The seat moulded itself to her back in comfort, before the speeder lifted itself up into the air and glided gently forward towards the garage’s ceiling exit, which opened smoothly just in time for Rolmir to expertly guide it out in the fresh morning air of Iziz.

The city turned from the giant towering sprawl of the northern district, into a flat expanse of beautiful architecture stretching out as the speeder gained altitude. The north was an attempt to bring a bit of the natural into the artificial, most buildings had rooftop gardens and were given enough space around them for planting large specimens of every tree and other flora native to Onderon. 

“Where to first, my Lady?”

“Let’s go north-west, Valthor Five.”

“Valthor Five, it is,” he nodded, shifting the speeder’s course immediately.

It was the closest mine to Iziz and consequently had the largest infrastructure and assets tied to it.

She blinked and suddenly became aware that she was not alone in the speeder’s cabin.

Out of the corner of her eye, seated just under a meter away was a figure wearing a soldier’s harness and armor, with non-regulation clothing that had seen better days. She could suddenly smell his presence, a vaguely pleasant scent that was common for Onderonian men to apply after shaving.

Her heart sped up as her mind struggled with the impossibility of it, trying to reconcile how someone could just appear inside the cabin of the speeder mid flight!

Her mind gibbered and struggled between freezing in fright, giving any indication that she had seen him or plunging her hand towards her hidden blaster.

The sudden movement of his hands almost made her react with lethal intent, but he simply raised both his hands in a disarming gesture and spoke for the first time.

“My sincerest apologies, Lady Thalindra,” said a surprisingly youthful voice.

As quickly as she could, her blaster was in hand and shoved into the face of…

“Lux Bonteri?”

Her mask cracked and she couldn’t help but gape at the incongruent sight of the young boy she had seen a mere two years ago at a banquet, walking around in the wake of his mother, with the inherent naivety painfully radiating off him. Now he had grown into manhood and wore it in every aspect of his bearing, his clothing speaking of the battles he had out in the jungles and others, much more recently. He was armed with a blaster at his hip and in his harness pouches had the distinct spherical anti-droid munitions.

“Good to you see again, my Lady,” he said, not flinching at all despite the business-end of a blaster in his face. “Sorry again, for the fright, but it’s the only way we could safely talk.”  

“How… how did you get in here?” she demanded. Her mind immediately defaulted to finding how her security had been breached to such a catastrophic level.

“That would be my doing, my Lady,” said a new female voice from the pilot’s position.

Veyra didn’t dare look or aim away from Lux, her heart sinking at the thought that Rolmir had been hurt or compromised in some way.

“You can relax, your driver is safe and sound back in his quarters. He’s just sleeping in a bit,” said the voice with a slight hint of amusement.

“You have me at a clear disadvantage,” Veyra growled, her finger shaking slightly on the trigger.

“Indeed, but given the level of surveillance you are under, it makes these theatrics an unfortunate necessity.”

Her mysterious interlocutor equated the impossibility of appearing in mid-air within a moving speeder, subverting every security measure and technology her house employed… theatrics?

“Please, my Lady,” Lux said calmly, with a regretful twist in his features. “I know from your point of view that this is strange and alarming-”

“To say the least, young man. You’ve definitely taken to Mina’s penchant for understatement.”

“Yes,” he winced. “But… allow me to introduce to you Commander Ahsoka Tano of the Jedi Order.”

Jedi Order?

She chanced looking left and saw a mildly smiling togruta, just about in the cusp of adulthood for her kind, judging by the lekku length and who was wearing her household staff green uniform impeccably.

Well, that could explain some things, but she was unaware that usage of the Force could lead to such outlandish feats! Unless…

“You meddled with my mind and perceptions?” she asked thunderously.

“Just enough for you to dismiss Lux’s presence and see me as Mr. Rolmir Dotu. We were already in the speeder when you climbed in, hence, the illusion that we appeared out of thin air.”

That anyone, let alone a Jedi, could actually do that was frightening to the core. She had known that they could wield distractions for the mind, minor tricks in addition to the flashy powers that were spoken of Onderon’s legends and history, but this…

Her mind fell upon the next implication, given Tano’s presence and Lux’s armament, the ‘terrorist’ events in the city.

“The Republic is behind these last two weeks,” she stated with certainty.

Lux shook his head, “On the contrary, my Lady. I was the one who reached out to the Republic, asking for their support in liberating Onderon from the Separatists. They’ve agreed to support the new Onderon Liberation Front, which I along with others have formed. Commander Tano is here as an advisor.”

Mina’s little boy had turned into this? She felt like she had walked into some bizarre version of reality.

She turned her glare to Tano. “An advisor? Considerably more than that I should say. Did you also mess with Lux’s head?”

“I have not, my Lady. It is not done idly and without good cause. My compliments though, your mind was considerably difficult to influence.”

“Yet you seem to have managed all the same,” Veyra said bitterly. “Am I to assume that was how you penetrated through every security arrangement I have?”

“Feel free to make that assumption,” said Tano, with a perfectly bland face and twinkle of amusement in those blue eyes. “Now please, all this was done so that you and Lux could have a very important conversation away from any possibility of Rash overhearing or even knowing about it. You think he only has one spy in your household, that you’ve subverted every listening device or spy sensor. There is in fact, another who has neatly used the first as a cover, attracting all your counterintelligence efforts and giving you a false sense of security.”

It took every ounce of willpower for the grip on her blaster not to slacken in her astonishment. She wanted to again gibber at the impossibility, but her mental comportment training only solidified against the emotion. She pulled away from the emotions that the claim inspired and focused.

“And who do you claim is this second spy?”

The Jedi raised her own hands slowly into view and had a small datapad lodged between two of the fingers of her right hand. “It’s all on here.”

The pad floated supernaturally forward, crossing the space with a deliberate slow pace to stop just outside Veyra’s personal space.

She sighed and finally lowered the blaster, realizing that there was no way with a Jedi in such close quarters that she could even pull the trigger. There was also no way she was going to hurt Mina Bonteri’s son.

She whipped her robe’s sleeve around her hand before grabbing the small pad, being weary of contact delivered substances and poisons.

A quick tap activated the pad and she began reading… a very familiar face appeared on the screen and she wanted to immediately throw it right back into the Jedi’s bland face.

Yet again she was presented with the impossible, made painfully more and more real as she forced herself to continue reading and there were even damning holo recordings. It clearly showed her personal scribe Mirene, talking in clandestine fashion to that sneaky wretch Okalin. Revealing confidential TEW financial data, but also clearly talking about her recent despondent state of mind at the fortunes of the company and House Thalindra.

Veyra had to give Tano some credit here, the entire report was thorough, professional and just how the Jedi had managed to get some of this without Mirene even knowing as well, spoke again to the supernatural skill that adherents of the Force possesed. Some of this should’ve been impossible to get without her scribe finding out, yet here it was all the same. It also couldn’t be a fabrication because everything aligned with utterly no errors in context.

“Oh, by the way, your datapad,” Tano gestured to the larger pad lying almost forgotten on the seat next to her. “It had a minor short and malfunction, the moment we appeared to you.”

She leaned back in her seat, sighing wearily, “Let me guess, commander. Another listening device from my thoroughly treacherous scribe?”

Tano smiled, “Correct, though one that doesn’t transmit remotely. Merely records, which Mirene Tovall will later retrieve from you.”

“All I can say at this point is thank you and though I can surely make a reasonable guess why you are here, speak your mind, Lux.”

He nodded, “My Lady, we need your help. While the Republic’s help is appreciated, the liberation of Onderon will not truly succeed if we don’t have more local support and you’re the second most powerful noble house on the planet.”

Veyra understood their logic immediately, yet she didn’t get to her current position in the nobility to just jump on the first potential lifeline thrown her way. There was still the not so small matter of whether this OLF could succeed militarily in the long run. She had studied their attacks in Iziz, for her own intelligence and security. It was clever, played to their strengths, but it was just pinpricks to the CIS war machine currently on the planet.

“And what makes you think I’m not happy with Rash on the throne? That I don’t want Onderon as part of the CIS?”

“My Lady,” Lux actually looked a bit offended. “Do you really think we’d come here if we didn’t already know? Even if we didn’t have access to TEW financials, simple common sense would dictate that your business can’t be doing well without access to Republic and Hutt markets. As long as Rash is on the throne, that won’t change.”

“Let’s say you strip him from that throne and reinstall Dendup, you still have a huge amount of droids to deal with. Dendup might have been a reasonable king during peace, but he is not martially minded at all. None of our so-called ‘military’ have really fired so much as a blaster bolt in an active campaign, it’s a token force at best. The defense grid has kept our planet safe.”

“We have a plan that can deal with the majority of the droids outside the cities, as for those inside… we also have the beginning of one, but it requires a lot more ground work and more importantly, credits and a steady supply line.”

“And you’re not going to be more forthcoming, because I could just go running back to Rash and tell him of your ‘master plan’, assuring him of my loyalty.”

Lux only looked at her in what he clearly thought of as a neutral face, but his eyes radiated a raw hope that was desperate.

Mina still has much to teach him.

Veyra looked out of the speeder’s window, the edges of the capital city passing by as they emerged over the raw untamed jungle canopies.  

Why am I hesitating? Had I not been despairing over a solution for over a year and now that one dropped into my lap…

Again, it felt like her house forebears were glaring into the back of her head.

She made her decision.

“Understand that I must appear to remain loyal to Rash, until the time is right.”

The tension left Lux’s body like a leaking airbag. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“Don’t thank me, Lux, until our planet is free. Tell me what you need.”

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“Your attacks over the last two weeks have Count Dooku’s attention,” declared Obi-Wan’s holo, to the assembled Onderon rebel council.

The transmission was being relayed clandestinely through the Skyfang in orbit and M8 was doing constant encryption cycling to stay ahead of any CIS attempts to trace or disrupt it.

“Republic Intel detected an coded interstellar transmission from Serenno to the palace last night, whilst it can’t be deciphered as yet, we can make a fair guess as to what was discussed between Rash and Dooku. Their response is coming and it will be harsh. They will stop at nothing to find you. You must adapt and continue to confront them whilst building your allies for the eventual goal of liberation.”

“We will,” asserted Saw with determination.

“And we’ll win,” Steela grinned.

“With that spirit, I have no doubt,” Obi-Wan said encouragingly.

Anakin’s holo gazed across the assembled rebels, “You’ve made your first ally among the nobles and no doubt many people on the streets have seen your actions first hand. Sentiment is shifting among them and you must continue that momentum. You will need the majority support of the people for any hope of future success. Your ability to direct and influence them will also determine your capacity to represent them, not only on the battlefield but off it, against your enemies and even within your own ranks. Your commitment to the cause will inspire, your conviction, to victory.”

“Now we come to the next problem, leadership. You’ve managed so far with a decidedly unconventional style, which has worked whilst you only had to worry about yourselves. Going forward however, the people will need a singular leader to follow and rally behind.”

I watched as Saw, Steela and Lux eyed each other. They also saw Obi-Wan’s point and they didn’t like the thought that it would most likely come down to a vote among the OLF. A vote which would undoubtedly draw firmer lines of division among the rebellion. What before had been nebulous would become distinct in everyone’s eyes.

“You’re correct, of course, Master Kenobi,” Lux plunged into the uncomfortable silence that had settled into the room. “In the interest of fairness, impartiality and transparency, perhaps the declaration of support can be done by verbal acclamation in this room, with Ahsoka presiding over the count.”

“It won’t exactly be the Senate, but that sounds more than acceptable,” Obi-Wan nodded.  

“We will each present our case for leadership to the OLF in an hour, when we can gather everyone to hear?” suggested Steela.

“While this is important, don’t make it more complicated than it needs to be,” Anakin advised.

“I’ll send out the word to assemble,” declared Saw and left the room with purpose.

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Sanjay Rash sat in his throne and pulled on every lesson and experience to command the seat, to appear like he alone was worthy and belonged in it.

The holo of Count Dooku flickered into existence and despite being separated by thousands of light years, despite merely wearing his usual understated Serennioan attire, Rash couldn’t help but feel the power and command the man exuded. It was written in the very essence of the leader of the CIS and it was something that Rash would give anything to achieve a similar status.

Dooku’s will was written across the galaxy and was deciding the fate of hundreds of systems and worlds.

It was power and he wanted it as well.

“I have given the matter some thought, Rash,” Dooku said, using the cadence of speech that had swayed a countless many to his cause. “You will receive the help you need, but merely increasing the number of droids on Onderon, as logistically difficult as it will be, will not make a difference here.”

“Agreed, but what could you send that will?”

“You need a general worthy of the title.”

The holo of a droid stepped into being next to Dooku.

Rash blinked in astonishment at the tall droid, clearly based on a standard tactical droid chassis but with clear refinement in its lines, which included armor thick enough to compare to a B2. The upper chest and head was also adorned in a deep green with organic golden swirls. It was almost as if someone had made an art project of a new model tac droid. The face had tri optics with glowing orange sensors. The arms and legs had articulation that seemed superior to commando droids and its hands even had five digits. In all it somehow made for a distinctly menacing package.

“This is Kalani. He’s the first of a new model from Baktoid, programmed and informed with the lessons learned so far in the war, given the salvaged experience of thousands of older model tactical droids which have been lost. He is an ST-series strategic military analysis droid and will root out your terrorist problem by the stem.”

“He certainly sounds impressive, but the true test will be here on Onderon.”

“He will succeed where you have failed,” Dooku said coldly. “We trusted you to lead Onderon whilst you were still behind enemy lines. The last year has been adequate but now I see you were incompetently allowing this problem to fester and grow, thinking it beneath the CIS’s notice. Kalani will arrive in five days, but he has already assimilated all relevant tactical data and will be issuing orders via holo. I expect you to obey to the letter. Understand, Rash?”

He felt his fury grow with each word. The sheer gall of it, obeying a droid, no matter how cleverly programmed as if ‘it’ was the king? Yet Rash had no choice in the matter, it would take Dooku but a single order and a team of commando droids would butcher their way through the Royal Guard and strip him off this throne. Then it would just be a matter of using the tactical droids to create a digital puppet of him to declare martial law throughout Iziz, if not the entire planet!

“I understand,” he nodded, betraying not a hint of his anger and biting into a fruit casually. “I look forward to working with you, Kalani.”

“Expect my call,” said the droid coldly, its artificial voice grating on the ear.

The holo winked out without further fanfare.

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Presiding over an election was not something I had ever considered I’d be doing as a Jedi.

The speeches that Saw, Steela and Lux had given to the OLF was thankfully abbreviated affairs, since only Lux had any sort of oratory training.

He hadn’t even been speaking for more than thirty seconds before he shook his head and conceded. “I am the son of Senator Mina Bonteri. Eventually the people will see her as being a part of what led us into this mess. There is some poetic justice in righting the wrong of your parent, but what’s needed now is not just words, but action as well. I am not the one who can lead you.”

Saw in his turn spoke with clear passion and zeal, “We must keep our momentum. Every strike against the droids that we come back from is more experience. This is just the beginning of the fight for our world. The Republic and the GAR are in no position at the moment to aid us when this war inevitably becomes more conventional. Even if we liberate Iziz tomorrow or in a month, there’s more droid legions out there in the other cities and mines. Everyone who can fight, will need to fight and that takes training, supplies and leadership.”

He didn’t need to say that he thought he was the one who could bring that leadership, but he at least wasn’t arrogant enough to say it blatantly.

Steela spoke from the heart and her sincerity was quite captivating, “Onderon is ours. We will remind everyone and keep reminding them, until we get it back. Whether it be by our actions with blaster in hand or our words spoken across this planet to every ear willing to listen. We will not be Rash’s puppets or Dooku’s. We are Onderon!”

The cheering that roared in the building afterwards, not to mention the chants of ‘For Freedom! For Onderon!’ made the actual election some perfunctory, but we let every member come forward and make their mark on a large datapad.

“With 73% of the vote, your leader is Steela Gerrera,” I declared formally.

Another round of enthusiastic cheers and war cries resounded.

“It’s been decided then,” Saw acknowledged, going to his sister and placing a hand on her shoulder. His eyes were stormy but I could literally feel the love he had for his sibling, but also the worry of what this leadership burden would do to her. “You’re our leader, Steela.”

He abruptly turned around and left the room, seeking solitude as men do when things got too emotional.

“Saw?”

“Easy Steela, let him go,” Lux gently held her by the arm.

“Were it that easy, I know my brother, he’ll go and get into the worst trouble he can find.”

“He’s going to the training warehouse, judging by the direction he’s walking and will likely just exhaust himself into sleep,” I countered, then tapped my head to tell her how I knew.

She frowned and accepted that, “We’re going to need him and… I’m going to need him by my side if we’re going to do this.”

“And he’ll be there, Steela. I don’t think any brother worth his salt would let his little sister walk alone into the danger you’re going towards.”

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A/N: Apologies for delay on this one, long duration power outage since early Thursday. The first domino has been tipped, the fight for Onderon will be a multi-front affair. Have a great weekend and stay awesome folks.