A Young Girl's War Between the Stars [Youjo Senki/Star Wars] 48

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars

48

Zeltros, 39 BBY/961 GSC. Northern Province.

It’s strange, the things we co to miss, or find appreciation for only after we no longer have them. After spending six years growing up on Zeltros in this third life before leaving with Master Dooku, I had beco accustod to certain things. It was only now, four years since leaving, as I eased the sleek, gleaming chro Nabooian bike off the ship’s ramp and took my first breath of Northern Province air, that it truly hit .

The sll, taste, and humidity of the early morning air. The fragrant, pleasing scents of trees, flowers, and even the grass. For just a mont, I was transported back several years, to mornings at the orphanage, when I got up early to enjoy the peace and quiet outside for my morning routine before the rest of the kids woke up.

Shaking it off, I sighed and carefully accelerated away from the spaceport where we had temporarily landed to make so final modifications to the ship that were just plain safer to conduct in atmosphere. We could have done them in orbit, but I saw no need to risk my people when it would be safer and faster to just land and do it on the ground.

Getting my bearings, I quickly oriented the bike the direction I wanted and rged into the low level air traffic, obeying the speed limit and simply enjoying an early morning flight—the wind pulling at my hair and clothes, the cool morning air almost but not quite uncomfortable. Around , I could feel the city waking up—or just going to bed in so cases. I knew from long experience that this was the only ti I could find any sort of peace on the planet if I didn’t want to get blasted with concentrated horny and/or revelrous emotions.

Spotting my destination, I dipped out of traffic and brought the bike in, circling once as I took in the place I had called ho for six years. Descending to the parking lot, I shut off the speeder bike and pocketed the key. Making my way up the stairs to the front entrance, I knocked on the front door and waited. I felt soone’s attention and curiosity pique inside and a familiar presence approach. The door opened and the familiar face of the matron greeted . Blue eyes looked up and down and her lips pulled into a small, soft smile as she radiated soft, fond happiness.

“Co in. Would you like so caff?” she asked, stepping away from the door.

“That sounds good,” I nodded. I stepped inside, closing the door behind myself, and following the matron through the familiar halls of the orphanage. We stopped by the kitchen long enough for her to request caff for the two of us, before she led us to her office. Taking a seat across the desk, I studied her as she sat.

The matron was perhaps in her thirties or forties. Given modern dicine in and near the core—and the fact that the governnt of Zeltros gave ‘free’ healthcare paid for straight out of the tourism funds that was on par with Coruscant—ant that practically everyone on planet received all of the best dical care money could provide, from birth. Longevity treatnts were really the least of what was just routine for citizens of Zeltros. Which was all to say that the few lines and crows feet were all signs of stress that ca from dealing with children, not age, and the woman still barely looked a day over twenty and just as beautiful as the rest of the citizens here.

That reminds . I should stop in for a checkup while I’m here. Take advantage of the benefits available. If I don’t have to spend my own money on healthcare, then I shouldn’t.

“It’s good to see you again, Tanya.”

“You as well, Matron.”

“You’ve grown,” she smiled, studying as much as I was studying her. “You seem… more at ease, as well. Life in the Jedi Temple seems to be treating you well. Was it what you had hoped?”

“Hah. Not exactly, no. I didn’t spend much ti in the Temple and I didn’t really fit in there. I haven’t been back for more than brief visits in more than a year now.”

The matron raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why don’t you tell about what you’ve been up to while you’ve been away?”

“Mm,” I nodded. “But first, is there anything you need?”

She humd, before shrugging. “I can’t say there is. You know how it is here. The governnt provides enough to keep the place running and the children fed, clothed, and educated.” The matron smiled again, this one coming with a flash of mischief. “But if you wanted to do sothing for us, I can think of sothing…”

“Go on,” I nodded.

“I’m sure the children would love to et a real Jedi and see what one of their own can accomplish when they put their minds to it.”

“I can do that,” I agreed, a mont before the door opened and one of the older kids brought in a tray with caff and breakfast—fruit pastries similar to scones. As soon as the tray was on the desk, the boy hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Taking one of the familiar pastries, I let out a quiet hum of appreciation as I bit into it, savoring the sweet, tart taste of the fruit as the matron poured us both caff. “You still take yours with chocolate, don’t you?”

“When I can,” I nodded, and she dropped in half a chocolate bar before stirring and passing the cup. “Thank you.” Taking a sip, I sighed in appreciation and made a ntal note to stock up before we left, since I had missed the familiar taste of the beans grown on Zeltros. “Before I get distracted, you wouldn’t happen to know anyone else like us, would you?”

“What do you an?” she asked, but I could feel she knew exactly what I ant in the way her mind closed off.

I sent her a knowing look over the rim of my cup. “Those who don’t indulge. Who haven’t lost themselves to hedonism.” Looking into my cup, I added, “Those who have rejected the unspoken social contract of Zeltros and refuse to prostitute themselves for the benefit of the governnt.” Taking a brief sip, I t her eyes again. “People who would rather make sothing of themselves or do sothing good for society, rather than contribute to the poor reputation our people have elsewhere in the galaxy.”

The matron sighed. “I may know of so. We don’t gather much in person. The governnt doesn’t like it. They’re worried we’ll do sothing self-destructive that will wind up harming the planetary economy. Why do you want to know?”

“I knew it,” I murmured. “I knew they couldn’t have all gone into politics. As for why… I’m looking for people who want to move off-world and get a fresh start. Master Dooku is now Count Dooku of Serenno, together with his sister Countess Jenza. Having a living lie detector around is handy, but I can’t be there all the ti or cover everything necessary. So we thought we would recruit from Zeltros.”

Staring at for a mont, the woman sipped at her caff before leaning back in her chair. “I’m going to need that explanation now. What happened, once you left?”

I smiled. “Very well.”

By the ti I made it back to the ship, I was practically dead on my feet. Not physically tired, but ntally drained. I felt like a zombie as I made my way to my cabin. Making my way over to the section of the cabin that had been dedicated to planter space, I plucked a few fresh leaves off of my favorite plant and went about brewing a cup of tea at the small kitchenette—little more than a section of the wall that folded down into a prep area and a couple of heating pads. If I wanted anything more complicated, I’d need to go to the galley, but it was good for reheating things—and convenient for making tea, or caff.

Once the tea was finished, I poured myself a cup and made my way over to my desk, collapsing into the chair behind it. Tapping the keyboard for the computer to wake it, I took a sip, enjoying the mixed coffee, chocolate, and vanilla flavor as the Force within it seeped into my body, perking up.

With that, I began typing out a couple of emails, both to Sgt. Dyre. The first was a request to have transport arranged for several passengers back to Serenno—complete with a list of nas and photographs. I made sure to let her know that she may need to expect a few family units in addition to individuals. I wasn’t going to turn away an entire family that wanted to relocate, when that ant a larger pool on Serenno to recruit from in the future when those children grew up and chose their own careers—and without the hedonistic indoctrination omni-present on Zeltros, they were much more likely to take jobs that allowed them to use their talents productively.

The matron had been very helpful in supplying with a list of nas—if not of those who would be interested themselves, but at least they could put in contact with those who were. After that, I’d spent the rest of the day doing sothing I was intimately familiar with from my first life: hiring interviews. It was exactly as dull as I rembered, and was the entire reason for my zombified stupor upon returning to the ship.

However, as much as I hated it, the fact of the matter was that I was the best suited to the task. Sure, I could have sent Sgt. Dyre to do the interviews, but I would have still needed to vet them personally and this was just faster and cut out the extra steps—not to ntioned saved the sergeant so unnecessary scut work. I had the experience, and between the empathic talent of my people and the Force, I was the most qualified person to recruit what was effectively going to be the core of Jenza’s personal… I hesitated to call them ‘secret police,’ but that was effectively what they would be used for—a mix of duties sowhere between counter-intelligence, information gathering, and interrogation.

Worse still, I wasn’t even finished. No, I imagined I’d be doing this for another day or two at minimum. I wanted as many recruits as I could get. It’d be better to have too many than not enough. If we had to charter an entire passenger liner, then I’d gladly pay out of pocket for it if I needed to—and then get reimbursed after submitting my expense reports, of course.

The second, more personal email was a requisition order. Setting foot on planet again had reminded that there were things I had liked about Zeltros, even if the society wasn’t one of those things.

I spent a few minutes connecting to the local network and running a few searches for what I wanted, then built a list and collected so addresses. Once I was finished, I dropped that list into the email and shot it off with instructions. With any luck, by this ti tomorrow, I’d have a collection of native plants to fill out my planters both in the ship and the Rusted Silver. I’d let soone else handle the planting for the ship, but I’d do those in my blastboat myself, since I could count the number of people I trusted inside my personal ship on one hand and only one of those was present—and I wasn’t going to bother Cindy when she was overworked enough.

With those sent off, I checked the progress reports sent by the crew on various things.

Cindy reported that the holographic camouflage modifications were proceeding on schedule. To my delight however, my blonde employee had taken the initiative to incorporate the improved holographic tech in other systems—not just our communications systems, but multiple displays, adding a new holotank style projector to the bridge to display battlefield information, and she had even ordered and set aside the parts for an ambitious little project for the rec room. A note at the end of her report suggested we put soone on Serenno and Mandalore in touch with the company making the tech, so I marked that as sothing to do for later—there was really no reason not to do a bit of trade here and get that tech imported for dostic use, both for civilian and governnt applications.

Cid’s status report was more terse—consisting of three sentences and a list. The initial install was finished, we needed to test it, and a list of material stock we’d need for the fabricator he’d made to make a supply of ammunition to store.

The rest were more along the lines of what I was expecting.

Readiness reports for various departnts and systems and a summary of what our marine contingent had been up to from Lt. Taris. Provisioning status and requests for more materials that I rubber stamped from our quartermaster. A report from our gunnery officer that the automation modifications Cindy had made in converting our ball turrets to standard turrets was complete, everything appeared to be in working order, and fire control had been routed to a pair of consoles on the bridge for port and starboard control. The air boss reported our shuttles and VAAT were in working order, but he would really like a small fighter wing. That one I forwarded to Jaster to see about getting us a quartet of small fighters (not the trash snub fighters she had co with) and pilots for them, since that was really all the ship could comfortably fit. The ship’s doctor wanted supplies, a small staff of dical droids, and an autodoc—all approved. And of course, there was a report of all of the expenses we’d run up (materials, supplies, fuel) and paynt owed to staff from the financial officer—which I had to dip into my funds and move into my business account set up for through Mandalore to cover.

Looking at that last one and seeing the nine digit sum of credits owed, I groaned quietly and thumped my head on the desk. This was… it was all of the paperwork and managent that ca with running a military unit, combined with all the sa for a small business. Because we technically were. I was now officially in the business of war—or at least, sothing close to it. Anti-piracy, harassing the Trade Federation and their allies, we were even registered with our budding alliance as a privateer and had a letter of marque so theoretically we could engage in a little legal piracy if we wanted to.

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Well, technically we were registered. By which I an, the people who needed to know knew and those who didn’t need to know did not. There were no publicly available records for the ship. As far as the Serenno governnt was concerned, if anyone asked, she had either been destroyed or scrapped for parts. The ship wasn’t registered to any governnt. She didn’t broadcast an IFF or identification signal, or at least not her own—she would absolutely squawk as sothing else if we needed her to. She didn’t even have a na—nothing that the crew could ntion in a bar sowhere to be overheard by nosy governnt officials or spies.

In other words, the ship was a deniable asset. A tool to solve problems quietly, or to cause problems for the enemy.

Unfortunately, that ant that funds couldn’t co in through the normal channels. They either had to co from my perfectly legitimate business account on Mandalore, in the form of unmarked physical credits, or from whatever we could get from our work. The Serenno/Mandalore alliance were perfectly willing to pay for us to take on jobs, but the funds had to either be physical credits or in the form of materials and equipnt—like the fighters we’d be getting. At the mont, we were basically taking out money against the payout for the job of disrupting the Trade Federation blockade and harassing the Trandoshans, save for whatever I was paying out of pocket through business channels and expecting to get reimbursed for later.

We’re going to have to start running jobs to make money. If we can capture ships and turn them over, Serenno’s willing to pay a fair price for them. Trandosha’s navy all uses KDY ships since Gallofree went out of business. Their ships are all decent quality, middle of the road in terms of cost, and nothing special or outlandish in terms of design—sothing anyone would be pleased to have. Of course, capturing ships goes sowhat contrary to the goal of destroying them. Or maybe not. Disappearing ships and no debris is even more worrying than obvious signs of battle…

Of course, if we do manage to snag so ships, we’ll need to both make sure they’re capable of flight and send over a skeleton crew to man them to take them ho.

Humming, I considered the logistics of moving stolen vessels, before a smile pulled at my lips. I’m trying to do too much. There’s no need for us to move them ourselves—at least, not the whole way. No, we just need to go over, sweep for survivors, make sure they aren’t broadcasting any sort of signal to phone ho, then put them sowhere to be retrieved later. Send a ssage back ho, let them send people to pick them up, and we move on to the next target. That’ll save us days or weeks of travel.

That decided, I pulled up the galaxy map on the holo projector built into the desk—and was surprised, but delighted to see Cindy had already had the projector converted to full color. Looking over the route a ship would need to take coming from Serenno to reach Kashyyyk, I humd as I considered my options.

Realistically, the fastest way to do this is going to be to have them send soone via the Hydian Way, then co up past Zeltros. So, why not send them here?

Switching over to the local map of the Zel system, I looked over my options. The Zel system had five planets, and from the inside out they were…

The gas giant Zeloa, very near our sun (Zel), which made little sense astrologically speaking and scientists speculated that it was placed there intentionally. It was set up for refining various gasses for fuel production. I didn’t want to alert anyone there, so Zeloa was out.

Second, the barren rock planet Zeldiis. Too close to Zeltros, the third, for my liking. I didn’t want these ships dropping out within sensor range of guests. Which likewise ruled out the fourth planet, Zelvahn.

That left only the fifth. A gas giant sweeper nad Zellone. Surrounded by seventeen moons and a thin ring of smaller orbiting bodies that wasn’t visible to the naked eye. Far enough away that sensors could easily mistake any albedo reflection from newly arrived ships as one of the moons, and they would have to be looking hard to spot the infrared flare of a ship’s drives—which could easily be rendered moot if we had ships co out of hyperspace on the back side.

Short distance to the Zel system and back. Zellone is pretty much perfect for parking prizes and leaving them for soone to co collect. Okay, that’s what we’ll do.

One more task complete in the mountain of things I needed to get done before we set out, I drained the rest of my tea and moved on to the next item on the agenda.

Hyperspace, 39 BBY/961 GSC. En route to Kashyyyk system.

The shifting blue light of hyperspace washed over the bridge as a feeling of tension and anticipation grew in the air. The crew moved quietly and efficiently as they carried out their duties, making final ready checks before the drop out of hyperspace. I sat silently, occasionally glancing at the small display screen mounted on the right side of my chair, checking to make sure there were no problems being reported from elsewhere in the ship.

Looking over the bridge, I was still amazed at the transformation from what it had been before. Sure, it was nice and high tech when I’d first acquired it, but now it looked like a proper starship bridge. There were eight stations, not counting my own. Starting on the left from entering the bridge was our sensor station, which combined ECDIS with all of the sensor feeds, and was also responsible for our probe droids. Next was electronic warfare. Then port weapons control. Then primary navigation and secondary navigation at the front of the bridge. Following those was starboard weapons control, a position for our stealth/camo control, and finally communications.

That was the standard layout but any of them could be repurposed with a few buttons and switches to handle the duties of one of the other stations if need be. That is, with the exception being conning—the other stations didn’t have the proper physical controls to direct the ship.

“One minute to hyperspace exit,” the ensign manning the secondary helm controls reported.

Lt. Taris nodded, moving over to lean over the back of the chair of the ensign on duty for the camouflage systems. She briefly glanced up before tapping at her console. “All systems green. Optical camo, emissions mimicry, and false IFF are all running, sir.”

“Let know if anything changes,” the lieutenant ordered quietly, before moving across the deck to sensors and EWF. Reaching up, he wrapped a hand around one of the grab bars on the ceiling as the backup helmsman counted down from five.

Outside the transparisteel view ports, the blue and white of hyperspace faded to star filled black as we returned to real space. Ahead of us, Trandosha lood large—an ugly, shit brown and algae green world covered in a yellow-green haze. I disliked it imdiately.

“What have we got?” Lt. Taris asked, looking over the two screens.

“Looks like general sensor sweeps. They see us, but they’re not looking too closely,” the sensor technician offered.

“Bring up the fish tank.”

The man nodded and, a mont later, the interior of the bridge between the captain’s chair and the other positions was filled with a hologram that quickly propagated with data streaming in from the ship’s sensors. The layout of the system. The positions, bearing, movent, and sensor focus of every ship in the zone. Representations of radio chatter back and forth between ships and the planet.

“We’re being hailed by one of the Trandoshan patrols,” the communications officer reported, and one of the larger ships in the tank lit up yellow—a frigate that appeared to be part of a Trandoshan patrol fleet.

A brief thrill of sothing between a mixture of fear, anxiety, and aggression filled the bridge before I reached out and pushed it away with calm. This was our first real test of our stealth systems outside of using our own fighters and shuttles to do various active and passive scans, so it was understandable that they were nervous. We were firmly in enemy territory and if our disguise failed, if we were discovered, we were humped. Sure, we might be able to jump back to lightspeed before they got close enough to fire on us, but it would blow the mission and the enemy would be put on alert.

I trusted Cindy’s modifications. We’d tested them thoroughly. Not even the Rusted Silver’s top of the line sensors or the spy droids this ship deployed could penetrate the disguise. Not without being so close we were practically guaranteed to destroy them.

“Let’s hear it,” I acknowledged, and a mont later the woman clicked a button and a voice filled the bridge. It was Trandoshan, with the reptilian hisses under-laying the translated Galactic Basic audio.

“Trade Federation vessel Return on Investnt, this is Trandoshan patrol vessel Krayt Viper. State your purpose for being in Trandoshan space.”

I t Lt. Taris’s eyes and nodded. At that, my XO spoke up. “Good afternoon, Viper. We’re a cargo vessel bringing a resupply for our allies over at Alaris Pri.”

There was a brief pause and I watched as they communicated with soone on the ground for a few monts, before we got an answer. “We didn’t request any resupply.”

“Nope. The ROI was dispatched as part of an… ‘outreach program.’ The Trade Federation wants to show its appreciation for its allies. The folks out over Alaris can’t co ho and take shore leave with the blockade going, so the bigwigs decided to bring shore leave to them. Our cargo bay’s been converted for that purpose. We’re one part flying commissary, one part cantina. All courtesy of Viceroy Gunray.”

Another exchange between the Viper and Trandosha, another brief pause. Then, “Understood, ROI. Permission granted to visit Alaris. We will call ahead and let them know you’re coming. Though there is the small matter of the processing fee…”

Lt. Taris let out an audible sigh. “Of course. How much, Viper?”

“I’m willing to waive the usual fee in exchange for goods or services. What sort of entertainnt did you bring?”

Putting on a smirk, the lieutenant answered, “Only the finest, straight from Nar Shaddaa—and in assorted flavors. Humans, Twi’lek, even a Zeltron.”

I narrowed my eyes at the cheeky grin the lieutenant shot at , but let it pass, for now. However, that seed to be exactly the answer that the captain of the Viper was hoping for. “Excellent! Stop by Trandosha before you leave. So of us are stuck on patrol up here for months at a ti and could do with so entertainnt. And I’m sure you’d appreciate the extra coin.”

“Absolutely. Will do, Viper. See you in a few days.” With that, the comms officer killed the connection and the lieutenant moved to the center of the bridge, just ahead of . “Co about and lay in a course for Alaris Pri, then ahead one third. Nice and slow. We’re a cargo ship and we’re not in any rush.”

“Aye, sir,” the helmsman at the primary station replied, and the ship slowly turned and accelerated away from Trandosha, the planet on our port side as we pulled away. “ETA at current speed is fourteen hours.”

Slowly, the residual tension drained out of the bridge crew, leaving behind relief and a bit of elation at our success so far. I stood and stretched out. “Comms, give shipwide.”

“Yes, ma’am. You’re on in three, two, one…”

I put on a grin. “This is your captain. We’ve made it through the first checkpoint. The enemy has fallen for our ruse. I know the deadline was tight, nearly unreasonable, but you’ve delivered wonderfully. You’ve really earned that overti pay! Good work. Well done everyone. But let’s not celebrate just yet. Soon, we’re going to play a little ga with them—a friendly ga of hide and seek, with live ammunition~. First, however, we have to set the stage and clear out the players already on the scene. In just under fourteen hours, we will arrive at our destination and our next engagent. Until then, consider today a half duty day. Take care of what you need to, then get so rest. I don’t want you burning yourselves out before the main event. That is all.”

The intercom clicked off and I sent a nod to Lt. Taris. “I’m going to be in ditation. Please don’t disturb unless it’s necessary. XO, you have the bridge.”

“Aye, ma’am,” he nodded, moving to take the seat I’d just vacated as I left for my cabin.

I locked the door and spread out my ditation mat. Pulling my computation orb off, I rested it in my lap, idly thumbing the beads on the necklace holding it as I closed my eyes and centered myself.

Reaching out, I felt for Obi and projected myself forward…

Blinking, I took in the forest surrounding us as I spotted Obi sitting in a tree just to my side. She frowned, then looked around, her eyes flowing over for a mont before coming back to where I ‘stood.’ “Tanya?” she whispered.

I projected an illusion of myself so we could talk. “We’re in the Kashyyyk system, on our way from Trandosha. We should be here in fourteen hours, give or take. Then a little longer for a marine contingent of Mandalorians to descend to the surface and join you.”

The blonde smiled, nodding once before turning her eyes back to the ground below. “I’ll let Master Qui-Gon know.”

Following her gaze, I asked, “What are you doing?”

“Scouting. Mapping out enemy patrols.”

“Preparing for ambushes?”

She nodded, a rueful grin on her face. “Yes. Soone showed a talent for it on Serenno and since the environnt is practically identical… Well, if it’s not broken, don’t try to fix it.” Glancing at from the corner of her eye, she asked, “What’s the plan? Drop off so marines? Co down yourself? Stay in orbit and cause trouble for the blockade fleet?”

I grinned, and for so reason her head snapped to and I could feel her disapproval and suspicion. “We’re going to try to wipe out or capture the small force visibly blockading the moon. Once we’ve taken them out, I’ll send the drop ship and your backup on the ground. Their goal is to destroy the droid production facility. As for , I’m going to have my ship pull back behind one of the other nearby moons of Alaris, deploy so scouting droids, and wait for enemy reinforcents to arrive. Then, we’re going to harass them a bit.”

“I don’t like it when you get that look on your face,” she murmured. “You’ve got sothing nasty planned.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “Only if we can pull it off.”

“Uh huh. What are you planning.”

“Why spoil the surprise?” I teased, and the girl glared. “Anyway—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours—”

“Tanya~!”

I pulled my projection back and laughed quietly at the frustrated look I’d left her with. Obi was definitely going to be angry later. She might even yell.

…Worth it.