A Young Girl's War Between the Stars [Youjo Senki/Star Wars] 02

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

02

Zeltros, 43 BBY.

A lot can change in six years. For , most of that change ca in the form of knowledge and perspective.

Once I got a handle on the language, and got my hands on a network connected tablet as part of my education (they called them data pads here), I was able to start gathering information and both verify and expand upon things I’d heard in conversation. One of the first things I’d heard and wanted to check on was what and more importantly where my people were.

The ‘where’ turned out to be a planet nad Zeltros and the ‘what,’ Zeltron.

No one, not even the local internet equivalent, had heard of ‘Earth’ as a planet. Further searches turned up that we weren’t even in the Milky Way! The galaxy we were in was spiral shaped, like the Milky Way, but I couldn’t even say for sure if we weren’t just in the sa galaxy by a different na or far, far away from the place I had called ho for two lives. My guess was on the second one though. I had a feeling that when Being X had said he would cast out, he wasn’t kidding.

Zeltros was just one of many, many inhabited worlds in this galaxy, connected to the others by a galaxy spanning network of hyperspace lanes allowing for interstellar faster than light travel. It was located in the Inner Rim of the galaxy, between the area defined as the Core Colonies where all of the most populous and wealthiest planets were, and the Expansion Region, which was the start of the frontier—the galactic equivalent of the Wild West.

Despite being outside of the core, the planet was ludicrously wealthy and primarily made its money off of tourism, with a dash of trade. Zeltros was a temperate garden world, much like Earth, save that it was cleaner. It was effectively a resort planet and our primary product was… ourselves.

That is how I learned the truth of what we were, as a people—and the reason why certain things were the way they were.

Zeltrons, I learned, were a species derived from humanity. Close enough to interbreed, genetically divergent enough to count as a new genus. We were just one of many, included among the likes of Sephi, Borneck, Etti, Chiss, Hapans, Tof, and more. Physically, Zeltrons had skin tones in shades of red—from light pink up through crimson. Hair colors were generally reds, but also blue, black, brown, silver, and white.

A few things made us stand out from the rest of the ‘near human’ crowd, however—and were the reason Zeltros was a resort planet.

Firstly, Zeltrons were all beautiful. Given that and the unnatural hair coloring, I was betting on there having been so genetic engineering at so point in our past. There was no such thing as an ugly Zeltron, unless they were physically scarred. Every woman I had seen outside of the orphanage was mouth wateringly enticing to my tastes and I imagined puberty was going to be hell for and a test of my willpower and self-restraint like none before. Even the n were anywhere between handso and pretty on the masculinity scale, with even the most rugged of them still looking like he had stepped off the set of a Hollywood movie on his worst day.

Secondly, as I had discovered for myself, we were all mildly telepathic—empathic, specifically. We were an entire race of people who could sense and project emotions.

Growing up here reminded of my first life in Japan, in a way. The walls were paper thin and you could hear everything going on in the neighbors’ hos, so privacy was an illusion you were allowed until you started making too much noise. Or, on the flip side, if you were too quiet people might start thinking there was sothing wrong with you. In this case, the walls were the ones around your mind, and all of your neighbors were nosy and liked to pry, and if your walls were too thick that was also a problem.

Not finally, but the last most notable difference, was that we naturally produced pheromones, making us more attractive and likable. Even the children produced them! Though, at least with children, the effect was less sexual and more seed to trigger paternal instincts. When puberty hit, that’s when we gained conscious control over their production and they changed to a more sexual nature.

Imagine my surprise when I learned that the reason my new ho was the vacation destination du jour was because its people were the ‘life of the party.’ We were biological social lubricant! The pheromones were basically applying beer goggles to everyone exposed to them—either by inhalation, skin contact, or contact with our bodily fluids.

As a forr Japanese salaryman, I had been party to more than my fair share of mandatory social drinking with my coworkers and superiors and I knew the effect even a mild impairnt would have on soone. Combine that with the fact that we’re naturally sexually attractive and who would say ‘no?’ It was, as so might say, a recipe for a good ti. The empathy on top of it just seed like overkill, when every Zeltron within range could tell if soone was enjoying themselves or not, and actively nudge them into doing so by projecting their own happy thoughts towards whoever wasn’t feeling it.

To put it simply… I was reborn into this world on the Planet of the Hippies. The Planet of like, Free Love, man. Not as a normal human being—oh, no! No, I was reincarnated as a universal sexual party favor according to the rest of the galaxy!

Throwing a party? Having an orgy? Trying to curry favor with your local politician of choice? Don’t forget to bring a Zeltron! The more the rrier!

I didn’t even have the benefit of being able to say that it was a planet-wide prostitution paradise for anyone with a galactic passport, or the credits and a ship to get here. No, you see, prostitutes get paid and my people… they did it for free!

At least, on a personal basis, the vast majority didn’t charge for sex. There were exceptions, of course—but those were escorts, not prostitutes.I guess you could say that technically, the governnt pimped us out and they were the ones getting paid, then turned around and oh so benevolently paid everyone a percentage of the profits as a monthly stipend, a sort of universal basic inco.

On the one hand, it reeked of communism and offended my financial sensibilities. I hated the idea of soone getting paid for another person’s labor.

On the other hand, I kind of had to respect the ga. Our governnt knew their product (their people) and they knew we provided services (sex), so why not benefit by charging admission at the door, then just pay everyone a cut of the proceeds?

We didn’t pay taxes, the governnt paid us from the taxes and revenue they made off of visitors. It wasn’t communism or even socialism, it was technically a wage for an unofficial service the governnt quietly encouraged its people to participate in, and the majority of those people willingly dove into face first.

…Just because we got paid didn’t an I had to like it.

But even with all of that… The strange, huge new universe full of alien life. The involuntary change in species. The reputation that was sure to follow around in the future. What upset the most was that they wouldn’t leave alone and let quietly opt out! This bunch of social busybodies were entirely too interested in poking their noses into my business for my own good!

They took my unwillingness to participate or interact with certain people and my tendency to shut myself off emotionally as so sort of challenge. They never stopped to think that perhaps they were the problem, not . No, I was a calm, rational,logicalhuman being Zeltron who could make her own decisions and chose to abstain voluntarily and thought our planet’s culture was a degenerate cesspool of filth, excess, and debauchery.

I was the sane one! Everyone else on this planet was crazy.

Alcoholism? Never heard of it. We’ve got two livers so we can drink twice as much!

Substance abuse? Addiction? Damage to internal organs? We had dical technology to counteract all of those negative effects, so you could mainline the latest designer drugs with no detrintal effects.

Sex addition? Inability to pair bond? Trivializing the most intimate thing two (or more) consenting adults can do? Oh, and let’s not forget about the city-wide underground orgies any ti enough teenagers hit critical mass and all got together! No, those are just part of our culture or I was blowing things out of proportion or had outdated views on sexual relations.

Stable, loving, monogamous marriage and a nuclear family? You would have to be so sort of selfish, possessive, degenerate prude to want to monopolize a person!

No, I was the weird one. I was the outcast for always being a downer, or a wet blanket—a mood killer.

Literally from the day after my birth, in fact. The one ti I actually couldn’t keep a lid on things, it had convinced my mother to dump off at an orphanage. I had actually tracked her down and asked why. It wasn’t hard. Everyone was registered in the system and public transit was free and readily available. It turns out that when a child feels the sort of loss of a battle hardened soldier finally breaking down after seeing their comrades killed and everything they fought for destroyed, it kind of… terrifies normal people. After all, what would a newborn have to complain about?

This planet sucked and I wanted off of it. Thankfully, that option was available to , once I got a little older. Ten more years and I could sign on with a freighter crew or sothing and work to pay for passage pretty much anywhere I wanted to go. I was already looking into options, actually.

Apparently, the more civilized parts of the galaxy—the core, that is—were run by a galactic republic, the aptly and creatively nad Grand Republic, or just the Republic for short. They were the ones who set the calender and clocks, who controlled the banks and set the value of the galactic standard credit. And despite my… misgivings about the way they seed to be heading down the slope of mismanagent, corruption, vice, graft, and all of the other signs of a dying empire circling the drain, they were still the best option out there.

One lifeti with a desk job career in Human Resources and a second with years in the military and practical experience managing people, materiel, and more (in addition to my combat experience) had convinced that the perfect fusion of those two roles would likely lie in the Republic Navy. If I had been allowed to join the Imperial Navy during my last life instead of being fast tracked through the aerial mage course due to my magic potential, I could have had that comfy life in the rear I had been dreaming of since waking up in the German Empire.

This ti, I wouldn’t be making the mistake of signing up to be what was essentially a cross between a foot soldier and a fighter pilot. No, Plan A was to join the Republic Navy and work my way up the chain of command. If I could get my own command and go do long, boring, routine patrols well out away from any hint of potential combat, sitting back on my ship with my feet up and collecting a pay check, I’d consider that a win. A successful career.

Now if only there wasn’t so much chatter on the galactic internet about rising taxes, tariffs, and the Trade Federation. I didn’t like what I was seeing, and if I was adding everything up correctly, there was only one possible outco—

“You’re scowling again. What is it this ti? The economy? The state of society?”

I looked up from the data pad as the Matron entered my bedroom. In an orphanage, space was at a premium. Normally, I wouldn’t be allowed such a luxury and would instead be cramd into a room with at least three other kids, all in bunk beds. There was just the minor problem that I disliked having roommates intensely, and since we were a species of empaths, my options were limited to either keeping my ntal walls up all the ti, or letting them know how I really felt.

Keeping myself shielded against casual observation was extrely unnerving to be in the sa room with, apparently. I was effectively cutting myself off from one of our primary senses that way. Imagine being in a room with soone and you can’t hear a thing they do, only to look over and suddenly realize they’re there. That was a complaint my forr roommates had given repeatedly, until I eventually capitulated and went with the second option.

That proved to be a mistake, as it turned out. This world and its people are… soft. Not weak, per se, but very sensitive, emotionally speaking. Which, one would think, would be the exact opposite case! If you’re able to listen in to and experience others’ emotions, then surely you would build up more of a resistance to negative emotions and feeling bad. That was not the case at all for most of these people, especially not the children.

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That softness was so present within the children of the orphanage that there weren’t even any bullies. No little boys pushing others around or hitting them. No little girls practicing their manipulation, lying, and other gas. No one causing problems. It was a bit creepy actually, to see children so well behaved, because their emotional maturity skyrocketed from an early age due to being able to feel what others felt—at least, in so ways. They were less prone to be offensive, but again, soft because of it.

Letting down my ntal defenses when I ca into my bedroom to find my roommates, or when they ca in, was sort of like shouting at them that I was bothered by their presence, disliked them, and wanted them to go away. Constantly. It never stopped unless they went away. Now, imagine soone doing that when you’re trying to sleep. If you snore a little too loudly, only to be woken up by shouting. It’s untenable. And the worst part was, I couldn’t exactly help it when I myself was asleep or close to it.

Sotis, I wondered if that made the orphanage bully. But it wasn’t as though I was going out of my way or intentionally trying to hurt them, so I quickly dismissed that notion.

So, because I was apparently a literal pain to be around, I was given a room to myself. With a bedroom of my own and a datapad to keep myself entertained, outside of leaving my room to ‘play’ (read: keep myself fit and healthy while building strength, flexibility, and reflexes using the orphanage’s playground equipnt), eat, or shower, I generally kept to myself and happily kept myself occupied learning. And a happy Tanya is a Tanya who blends in socially and doesn’t stand out in the background emotional clutter. Everyone benefited from this arrangent, compared to any of the alternatives.

Of course, not everything is all light reading and there are so things a person is just not happy to learn. Learning through the galactic news of financial and political instability affecting shipping, trade, tariffs, taxes, and thus the economies of multiple worlds and my future as a potential Republic Navy recruit if the navy couldn’t afford to pay , let alone outfit and fuel their ships was not good news or light reading. There was also the risk of joining when it seed a war was almost inevitable, looming so ti in the not so distant future.

I didn’t want to fight in another war. At the sa ti, I wanted my freedom and a career path that would set up to retire comfortably. I was already running a risk/reward evaluation and still coming out on the side of reluctantly joining up. But it had worried.

“Trade.” When the woman raised an eyebrow, I explained. “There is so political instability between the Core and the Inner Rim—a few skirmishes breaking out here and there. The Trade Federation is complaining about increasing taxes and tariffs, and having to source materials from different places causing changes in prices due to opportunistic price gouging or use alternate routes which create delays and increases fuel costs. These costs will obviously be passed on to the consur, creating inflation with no rise in pay to compensate.”

The Matron sat on the bed on the empty bunk opposite my own, studying as she radiated mild amusent, curiosity, and worry. “And why does that have you scowling?”

Tapping the data pad, I brought up my latest findings and passed it to her. The older woman looked it over for a few monts before shaking her head. “I don’t understand. What do stock prices have to do with anything?”

“You couldn’t tell just by looking at their nas. I had to do so research to find those, after all. They aren’t widely known, because they’re all based in the frontier. Out in the Expansion Region and Mid Rim. These are areas that the Trade Federation has been expanding into aggressively, going back thirty years, with help from their good friends the IGBC—the Banking Clan. Those companies are all on planets that have had scuffles with the Trade Federation in the past—just a few planets on a very long list that covers a multitude of goods used both in daily life and by the Republic’s various military assets. They were blockades, really. And then, for so reason, those blockaded planets later signed so exclusive trade deals with the Trade Federation for whatever it was they produce, only for the blockade to coincidentally lift. Then, to the surprise of literally no one who understands finance, the prices on whatever goods those planets were exporting went up—sotis as little at fifty percent, sotis as high as a one thousand percent increase. The destination for the majority of those goods? The Core and the Inner Rim. We’re seeing the beginnings of hyperinflation in the inner systems. Even we haven’t been unaffected by all of this. I’m sure you’ve noticed that the price of certain staple goods that are imported from the Expansion Region’s agri-worlds, such as flour and sugar, have gone up? Those now have exclusive trade deals with the Trade Federation.”

“And these companies?” the Matron wagged the data pad, growing more worried the more I laid it out for her.

I smiled and for so strange reason, the Matron flinched. I carefully hid my amusent. I had no idea why, it was the sa smile I always used, but for so reason it always drew out a peculiar reaction in others.

By which I ant, for a brief mont, the woman was terrified of sothing before she repressed the emotion. And she wasn’t unique in that reaction. Personally, I thought it was strange. I had a beautiful smile—I’d know, I’d tried it on myself in the mirror more than enough to know what it looked like, in two lifetis. If they were going to react like that, it really only made want to do it more.

It did make wonder if that wasn’t what everyone who saw smiling like that in my previous life felt… It might go a way towards explaining so of the strange things my enemies liked to shout at when we fought. Epithets like devil or demon.

“The first? An orbital works. A shipyard that produces large, bulk troop transport and vehicle carriers. The second? A heavy weapons manufacturing plant. They make hover tanks and other such craft. The other three are all droid factories specializing in combat droids. One makes the B1 series of battle droids. Small, light, cheap, fast, and easy to produce. Reviews say their targeting algorithms and AI are crap, but put enough of them together and continuous fire will handle most problems. Another makes the B2, the B1’s bigger, angrier brother. Just as dumb, but much harder to kill. They’re shock troops, essentially. ant to be sent in to soak up fire while soone maneuvers B1s into a flanking position. The third produces sothing called a droideka, or destroyer droid. They can curl into a ball and roll themselves where they need to go. Fast, heavily ard, and they have energy shields. They’re basically mobile turrets.”

The Matron had begun to pale the longer I went on. Finally, she swallowed thickly as fear briefly rolled off of her before she shut it out. “And… the stocks of those all went up?”

“Massively.”

“Which would an…”

“It ans that business is booming,” I nodded, confirming what she didn’t want to say. “Soone has made so very large purchases recently. You could make the argunt that militaries replace their hardware all the ti and this could simply be a case of cycling in new equipnt. Normally, I’d agree, if it weren’t for everything else going on around it. Put it all together and it paints a very grim picture for the future. I estimate ten, maybe twenty years before a war breaks out between the Republic and the Trade Federation—which would really be a war between the Republic and the IGBC, using the Trade Federation as a proxy.”

Sighing, the older woman slumped in a bit on herself. “I see. That is… distressing.” Her red eyes bored into my blue. “I don’t see how it would concern you in particular, though.”

“I was planning to join the Republic Navy when I got old enough to leave.”

“Oh,” the Matron winced. “Yes, I see now.” Sighing, she powered off the datapad and stood, putting on a stern look even as she radiated concern. “I think that’s enough reading for today. Go outside. Go play. Go do sothing else and stop worrying about all of this. You’re upsetting the other children. You can worry about adult problems when you beco an adult.”

“The children of today inherit today’s problems tomorrow, if the adults of today fail to handle them,” I grumbled, but pushed myself off the bed and gathered up my jacket. We were fully into fall and while the climate in the Northern Province was generally mild, it was still cool enough to need one. Grabbing my datapad back, I slid it into one of my jacket pockets. I took a mont to pull my silver hair back into a short tail so it wouldn’t hang loose, then made my way outside.

Sparing a glance at the playground, I considered it and the two children there for a mont, also here instead of at school today. As soon as I stepped into view however, the previously happy children all turned wary and unwelcoming. That was fine. I generally stuck to using the equipnt when they weren’t around anyway. There was sowhere else I could go instead.

Making my way to the public transit station, I settled in to wait for a train, taking out my tablet and powering it back on so I could check the local news. Humming, I skimd over the headlines on my way to the finance column.

If I had so money, I could really play the intergalactic stock market right now and make a killing. With years of advance notice, I might even be rich enough to retire without going into the navy by the ti I get old enough to.

A headline briefly caught my eye and I raised an eyebrow. ‘Jedi Master and Council mber to et with officials regarding offer to join the Galactic Republic.’

I’d heard of the Jedi before, of course. They ca up nurous tis during my deep dives into recent local and galactic history—and grew more and more prominent the further back I went. Thousands of years, in fact. They were a semi-monastic, pseudo-religious order of what closely resembled battle monks and lately seed to serve almost as an extension of the Republic itself. They were peacekeepers, problem solvers, and diplomats. They believed in sothing called The Force—a sort of universal energy field, around and inside everything and everyone, which seed to have a will of its own according to their beliefs.

It wasn’t belief in any one specific deity, but rather, the way I understood it, it was kind of like a concept I was familiar with from my first life, having been born Japanese. When a living being died, their essence returned to the Force. That included the souls of sentient beings. So, in a way, veneration of the Force was a form of ancestor worship, in addition to a belief in a greater driving will.

I didn’t necessarily agree with it, but I will say that it didn’t make twitchy and start looking for a rifle. If they wanted to worship so universal energy field, that was fine with . Especially since I could actively prove it existed any ti I felt like it, given that my powers used that sa energy and I could draw in more from the world around or interact with it any ti I wanted.

Still, what are the odds this is related to the pattern I’m seeing? I’ll need to look at a map and go through headlines to see if there are other worlds where similar etings are taking place. If the Core is trying to use the Inner Rim as a shield against the Trade Federation in the Expansion Region and outwards, then I don’t want to be here and should start looking into moving that titable for leaving up.

Eventually, the monorail ca and I climbed aboard. It was a short, half hour ride to my destination, and when I stepped out onto the platform the difference between now and when I’d gotten on was like night and day. I breathed a sigh of relief as I took in the emotional silence around , before I started walking.

As it turns out, not everyone on the Party Planet of the Free Love Hippies followed the whole vibe of the place full ti. A planet still needed a functioning governnt and other institutions to run. And given that this was a planet full of empaths, or rather humanoid lie detectors, it made sense that those who went into politics would learn how to shield their minds.

Nearly the entire district that served as the seat of power for the Northern Province of Zeltros was a sea of emotional calm. Even the basics such as janitorial services and food service were taken care of droids, so as not to disturb the silence. For most Zeltrons, I imagined it was unnerving. It would be like, for a human on Earth, walking into a crowded mall only for it to be dead silent.

The reality was, the silence was a tool. You see, in that sea of silence, any emotion at all stood out. Which ant that foreign dignitaries were super easy to spot and read for my people.

As for myself, as long as I kept generally out of sight, no one complained about my presence. I blended into the background here, with my ntal shields up. As long as no one saw , I might as well be invisi—

“Now, that is rather interesting.”

I blinked, my head whipping to the side as I spotted movent coming out of one of the nearby restaurants. For a mont, I ntally kicked myself for falling into the sa trap as the locals—relying too much on my empathic sense to feel out those around and not enough on my eyes and ears. Lt. Col. Tanya von Degurechaff would have had one of her subordinates doing PT until doomsday for that mistake.

I t eyes with a man coming out, carrying a takeout bag and a drink. The first thing I noticed was that he was human—just a standard, baseline human. He was an older man, white, with a beard and hair that were turning more salt than pepper with age. He was tall, easily two ters and change, and the way he moved and carried himself had the soldier in sitting up and taking notice, like recognizing like. He wore a brown robe over his clothes, and when he shifted the bag he was carrying I spotted sothing that looked vaguely like a flashlight stuck to the side of his belt.

He was also a complete damned void to my empathy. Despite his amused smile, not a trace of whatever he was feeling slipped out.

“It’s rare to see a child with that sort of ntal control, especially among your people,” he mused. Studying for a mont, his smile widened fractionally and he nodded. “It’s a pleasant day. Would you mind humoring an old man? Co sit with . Have you eaten?”

His words reminded that I hadn’t had lunch yet, so I shook my head. “I have not. I left before lunch ti. Are you sure?”

“I’m certain.” He placed his bag and cup down on one of the tables outside and gestured towards one of the seats. I raised an eyebrow as it scraped along the ground two feet, moving back from the table. “Sit, please. I’ll be right back.”

I watched as he made his way back into the restaurant. Shrugging, I moved over to the table and sat down, waiting patient for him to return. The situation was a bit strange, but I was curious. I might have been worried, but he didn’t seem like the type to offer candy that he kept in his van just around the corner, and if he did…

I reached down and checked the knife in my jacket pocket, making sure it was ready. I highly doubted anyone would be prepared to deal with an invisible mage blade that could extend well beyond the distance between myself and the seat across the table, removing limbs or parting their head from their shoulders, if it ca down to a fight.

The older man returned a mont later and sat. “We won’t have to wait long,” he inford , before bowing slightly at the waist where he sat. “I am Jedi Master Dooku. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with, young lady?”

Huh. Wasn’t expecting to actually et the guy.

“Tanya. I was just reading about you. I expected you to be in talks with the governnt for most of the day. This is… quite the coincidence.”

The old man chuckled. “We took recess for lunch. As for our eting, ‘coincidence’ is sotis just another na for the will of the Force. I’ve found that ti and ti again, it has guided to where I need to be and who I need to et, when I need to et them. So tell , young Tanya. Should you not be in school?”

I shrugged. “I ho school myself. I’m not allowed to attend a normal public school.”

“If you’ll humor , what brings you here today?”

Letting out a chuckle of my own, I smiled. To my surprise, the old man didn’t flinch, and I still didn’t sense a thing off of him. “I got kicked out and told to go play, or do literally anything other than continue reading. Apparently, I was bothering the other children. The Matron complained that I was worrying too much.”

“Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “Not to diminish your worries, but surely a child has little to worry about beyond the typical worries of children.”

Shaking my head, I pulled out my tablet and brought up what I had shown the Matron. “Have a look and tell what you think.”

The Jedi Dooku read over the list of companies and stock increases and his genial smile slowly fell. Slowly, he looked up and t my eyes across the table. “Why don’t you tell what you believe this ans?”

Shrugging, I launched into the explanation I had given the matron. Dooku began nodding along as I spoke, clearly familiar with everything I was saying. Finally, he pushed the tablet back to as another order of food and a drink ca out. He opened the food up and presented with the new batch—spicy noodles, vegetables, and a at not unlike chicken.

“You say you’re interested in joining the Republic Navy?” he asked, and I nodded. Humming, the old man studied for a mont longer before asking, “Have you considered a career in politics instead?”

Leaning closer, I asked, “What did you have in mind?”