Beyond - Legends The Fields of Tesserone (AU,OC)

Trieste: There are echoes of the Endor celebration here. Stumbled across this guy online and really like his music. I knew one day I had to use it in a post.

jcgoble3: I think writing from a Jedi is very interesting. I've never done it to be honest so its a new experience for me. I haven't really thought about how the trials might take shape or develop.

Tim Battershell: That is a really great experience. There are quite a few 'groups' out there that do this kind of music.

 

OOC: This piece is not the conclusion of my story but may serve as a possible transition that I have yet to fully map out. I hope you enjoy this post in its entirety.

Some time later...
Obroa-Skai



The darkness of the night was interrupted by a brilliant beam cast from a landing shuttle. A robed figure quickly disembarked and headed for a memorial built long ago to honor the fallen of the final battle of the Neo-Sith War.

Entering the tomb the robed figure made a slight wave of the hand. The great stone table that had served as the place of meeting at the last Jedi Convocation slipped into the floor revealing a spiral staircase descending into a labyrinth of tunnels. There was no getting lost down here, though, as the figure marched down the stairs in the direction of a holding cell.

The figure paused outside the holding cell and breathed the Force that flowed through him. Feelings, thoughts, flooded his mind. Yes, she was afraid. She was very afraid. She would soon learn to trust. She would soon learn to follow his teachings. Yes, she was nearly ready for that.

With a flick of the hand he opened the door.

The young girl screamed. She was terrified as this figure peered down at her with eyes filled with an evil she had never known. Where were her parents? Why hadn't they rescued her?

"Give in to your fear, Grace. Give in to your fear and take the first step toward a more powerful world than you could ever possibly imagine," the figure instructed.

"Who are you?" Grace Vehn asked as she fought back tears.

The figure lowered his hood and leaned forward so that he was illuminated by the dim light which hung from the ceiling.

"Jedi Master Tel Adain, young girl," Adain replied.

Grace cowered against the cold walls of her cell. "Where are my parents?"

Adain smiled and shook his head, "They have given up looking for you. Nobody is going to save you now. The only person you can trust is me."

"I'm so afraid," Grace whispered.

"I know," Tel Adain replied as he waved his hand in front of Grace's face and she immediately fell unconscious. "That's perfectly normal."

Tel Adain carried Grace's limp body to the shuttle and knew that he could at last start the long road toward revenge against the Vehn family.

Phase One was complete.

---

Tesserone, Roon

"You should get some rest, Eleanor," Rowan said.

"I'll never rest until we find her," Eleanor replied.

"I've already lost my daughter," Rowan said, "I don't want to lose my wife as well."

"What kind of mother am I?" Eleanor asked, "My daughter is gone. Taken by a sinister organization."

"You are the kind of woman who never lets a defeat take her down. We will find her again. No matter how long it takes," Rowan replied.

"And if it takes years?"

"I can bear the pain with you by my side," Rowan said.

"I love you, Rowan," Eleanor said leaning against her husband's chest.

"I have always loved you, my dear," Rowan replied.

---

Ossus

"Kneel before the Council," Jedi Master Lohari Kohlar said as Padawan Austin Vehn did as he was commanded.

"Have you anything to say before we begin?" Master Kohlar asked Austin.

"I did my best with the trials. I know there were sections I could have done better. I feel that my body of work outside of the trials, specifically in helping the Trianii return home, speaks volumes. I am ready to become a Knight. I am ready to dedicate my life to the Jedi Order and the entire galaxy."

"Spoken well," Jedi Master Kohlar said as he looked to the other Jedi Masters for approval before continuing. "Rise."

Austin did so.

"You have passed your trials, young Padawan, and it is with great pleasure that this council see to it to grant you the rank of Jedi Knight. You have been one of our most promising students. I foresee a great future ahead of you. Clearly you have the gift of diplomacy and may it bear good fortune for you all the rest of your days," Jedi Master Kohlar says. "Go forth and May the Force Be With You."

"Thank you, Masters. I shall not let you down. May the Force Be With You," Austin replied as he gave a respectful bow and headed out of the council chambers.

Austin was nearly to the landing pad to transmit a signal home when he was stopped by Jedi Master Tel Adain.

"I see you no longer wear the lock of a Padawan," Master Adain said, "that is good. That is as it should be. You were one of my finest students, Austin. I have never seen anyone with a gift such as yours when it comes to diplomacy."

"Thank you, Master Adain. I couldn't have done it without you," Austin replied.

"There may come a time, Austin, when I could use a good man such as yourself," Master Adain said.

"What are you talking about, Master? Is something wrong?" Austin replied.

"The galaxy that you are growing up in is changing, Austin. Look all around you and you shall see. The Republic and the Roon Federation, even the Hutts, are consumed with their own affairs. It is to the independent systems, the remnants of the defunct Almanian Empire, that the future of the galaxy now rests. Out there, in the wilds, is a raw energy, a yearning, billions of beings crying out to be heard, crying out for law and order, for security."

"I've never thought much about the independent systems," Austin said, "I suppose the Trianii are my first taste of the complicated nature of that part of the galaxy. If that is the case there is much work to be done. Much work. So much that it could take several lifetimes to mediate."

"Not to mention the small matter of where your niece has gone," Master Adain said.

"Grace? My sister, Eleanor, will never stop looking for her, that much I know," Austin replied, "we will find her, some day."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Master Adain responded, "but be warned, Austin. She may no longer be that little girl you once knew."

"What do you mean? Have you heard something?" Austina sked, frowning.

"Whispers in the dark. Rumors, really. Snippets about Black Sun returning. Sinister stuff. Lies, really. I'm confident you and I can find her if we work together," Master Adain said.

"I heard Black Sun had last been seen nearly 80 years ago in the Chommel Sector?" Austin asked.

"Please," Master Adain replied, "there's nothing out there but Nabooan politics and bitter trade disputes between small worlds nobody has ever heard of. No, Austin, our future lies in the independent systems. There in the lawless reaches you will find your niece."

"What makes you so sure?" Austin asked.

Master Adain could barely conceal a smile as he placed a hand on Austin's shoulder, "Trust me, Austin. Your niece is safe. That much I can guarantee. She holds the future of the galaxy in her hands. Nobody would be foolish enough to take her life when they could use her to their advantage."

"What do you mean by that?" Austin inquired.

Master Tel Adain drew himself up to his full height and breathed deeply, "If anything were to happen to Grace Vehn it would destabilize the entire galaxy. Black Sun is but a red herring, Austin. The real threat runs much deeper, closer to home. The Jedi can only do so much. The galaxy needs more enforcers to keep people safe in their homes."

"I haven't been back home in a long time," Austin replied.

"Roon, right?" Adain asked.

Austin nodded.

"You should see the fields in the early morning light, Master Adain, especially after a fresh snow," Austin said recalling memories of his childhood home. "The way the ground sparkles and shines. A world unlike any I have ever seen. Untouched by the troubles of the galaxy. There I learned how to become a man. There I learned so much about life. There I found my calling."

"Perhaps you shall see your home again one day," Master Adain said.

"I long to see home again," Austin said, "to look once more upon the fields. My fields. The Fields of Tesserone."

Tag:Trieste;jcgoble3;Tim Battershell;CPL_Macja

 

So Austin didn't have a very good role model as a Master. Tsk tsk, Adain. Revenge is not the Jedi way. But what does he want revenge for?

This is a very neat twist, and I am extremely interested in seeing where you take it.

 

Not as good as we thought, anyways.

During this, I couldn't help but think about what the Triestes must be thinking about the disappearance of one of their own, for Grace is one quarter Trieste, after all...

 

OOC: This story has concluded.

 

This was such an excellent story you weaved. I will be very sad to see it go.

But are you just going to leave us hanging with regard to Grace and Adain?

 

"No, there is another."

 

OOC: Back by popular demand The saga continues....with a twist.

284 ABY
South Fork, Roon



The railroad stretched endlessly into the horizon. The tracks shimmered and skipped in the stark heat of the summer. The iron rails were a symbol of past, present, and future.They had been built centuries before speeder technology had reached Roon. They were still the preferred method of reaching the remote rural communities where the great resources of timber, grain, and coal could still be harvested by the back breaking labor of young men and women. They were also the preferred method of shipping the materials back to the sprawling metropolis of Nime, the capital of the Roon Federation.

The end of the south spur of the line was the small timber town of South Fork. South Fork had once been a booming mill town during the Neo-Sith War but had since fallen on hard times with tighter regulations being placed on logging companies. Gone were the days of clear cutting and poor forest management. Now every scrap of wood, from the natural waste of the forest, to the tallest pine, was utilized to its fullest extent.

South Fork had experienced something of a resurgence during the Roon-Druckenwellian war. Timber was in high demand with the threat of Coalition bombs falling on Nime and Nunurra. The old town slowly came back to life. When the war ended the timber industry remained strong. New markets were discovered. South Fork had been reborn. Families came and settled and had children. Those children were now reaching the age of needing to have an education. A call was cast for a qualified teacher unafraid of living on the frontier. Unafraid of educating in a community that was slowly coming around to the idea that education was the way forward.

Only one teacher answered the call. Only one teacher was brave enough to journey this far out into the wilds.

Kasey Vehn, fresh from her trip to Trian, stepped off the great locomotive as it blasted steam from its giant boiler engine. She took in the crowded station. Families were welcoming visitors, cargo was being off loaded, and there was a sense of industry in the air that she hadn't felt in a long time. She smiled. This was what she'd always dreamed about. A chance to teach in the hinterland. A chance to make a difference in the lives of people who had less.

"You must be the new school teacher," a man said.

"Is it that obvious?" Kasey asked.

"'Fraid so, ma'am. It's the way you dress," the man replied as he extended a hand, "Deputy Sam Withersby."



Kasey looked down at her summer outfit. It was a beautiful, simple, article of clothing, but clearly it screamed outsider. She'd have to adjust her wardrobe when she got settled. She grabbed her belongings from a nearby cart and tucked her jacket underneath one arm. The air was starting to get cooler. Fall was just around the corner.

"Where are you staying?" Sam asked.

"Some place called the Lone Pine Inn," Kasey replied.

"Ah yes," Sam said with a knowing smile, "the only place worth staying. They'll probably put you above the bar. I gotta warn you that place can have some mean characters. People who won't be shoved aside because you're a lady."

"I can handle myself," Kasey said.

"I suppose so," Sam said as he guided Kasey to the horse and buggy waiting just beyond the station.

"No speeder?" Kasey asked.

"You're on the fringes of the empire, lady, we can't really afford speeders out here. Besides if they break down who is going to fix them?" Sam said as he tossed Kasey's suitcase in the back.

Kasey climbed into the seat and nearly fell over backward as the horses gave a lurch under Sam's deft direction. She took the time to inspect the town as the buggy made its way through the dirt streets. She counted five brothels, one jail, one hardware store, a post office, and some smaller businesses that looked like a combination of an antique store and a tinker shop.

"Quite a big change from the big city isn't it?" Sam said.

"Actually it reminds of where I just came from," Kasey said.

"Where's that, now?"

"Trian," Kasey said.

"Huh?"

"Trian," Kasey repeated, "A jungle planet inhabitated by a sentient feline species that was nearly hunted to extermination by their bitter rivals over eighty years ago."

"Jungle, felines, what in Maker's name," Sam grumbled as he lit himself a death stick.

"You need to get out more," Kasey pointed out as Sam guided them in for a gentle stop in front of the Lone Pine Inn.

"I'm fine right where I'm at," Sam said.

Kasey hopped off the buggy as Sam passed her belongings down to her. She smiled as she looked at his weathered face. He'd seen a lot. That was for sure. The sun hadn't treated him too kindly either. That was just par for the course. Up here, in the wilds, anything could happen. Anything did happen.

"You need anything else you just give me a holler," Sam said.

"I did have one question," Kasey said.

"Fire away," Sam replied.

"Where's the school house?"

Sam laughed and shook his head. "You mean they didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Sam pointed toward the far end of the street.



"I see," Kasey said as she examined the poor condition of the building she was to teach.

"It's been awhile since we've had families in this town," Sam said, "but I'm sure glad the industry is back and booming."

"Who do I talk to about funds?"

"Funds for what?"

"To fix the school house," Kasey said.

Sam shrugged. "Lady, I keep this place safe. I don't run a charity and I don't know anything about educating little ones."

"Thanks," Kasey said.

"Welcome to South Fork," Sam said with a tip of his hat.

"I'm going to love it here," Kasey quietly said aloud as Sam drove away.


"I'm going to love it here," Kasey repeated as she headed into the Lone Pine Inn.

Her new life was just beginning.

Tag: Trieste;jcgoble3;Tim Battershell;Jedi_Perigrine

 

Hmm. Very intriguing. Let's see where this story takes us.

 

This area of Roon wouldn't happen to call its police officers "constables," would they? And they wouldn't be mounted on those horses, would they?

 

The Spire
Federation Naval Academy
Orbit of Rothana


The Spire basked in the warm rays of the nearest star. It's long, cylindrical shape and dagger like points jutted menacingly above the planet of Rothana. It had been built centuries before and been operated by whichever galactic government was in power. The space station served as the official Naval Academy of the Roon Federation. Hundreds of beings came and went on a daily basis. Only one person, however, had been called out of retirement.



Correction: He'd wanted to come back.


Admiral James Vehn, freshly reinstated at his former rank and in full dress uniform, disembarked the shuttle and shook hands with Commandant Tallia Gray. He'd worked with Gray closely during the Roon-Druckenwellian War to develop a recruitment pipeline in case the conflict had dragged on for years. Fortunately, the war had been brief, but the casualty count had been unfathomable.



"Welcome to The Spire, Admiral," Gray said after proper salutes were exchanged.

"A pleasure to be here," James replied as he walked alongside Gray quietly reviewing the naval officers at attention nearby.

"I hope you'll find your posting to your liking," Gray said as the pair entered a turbolift.

"Nothing beats retirement," James replied, "but this position should be to my liking. I enjoy teaching young midshipmen and women a thing or two."

"We could all learn from you," Gray admitted, "your leadership during the war was impeccable. You're the hero of Roon."

Sadly that wasn't the same for my relationship with Kasey, James thought as he feined a smile.

"I was one of many who defended Roon during the war. The real heroes are the brave souls who died on the frigate Rowena. Admiral Quorro was a good man. A good friend. We lost a good one that day," James said.

"Very true," the Commandant replied. "Which is why I so desperately need your real world expertise in the classroom. These young beings have no idea the dangers that lurk out there. I receive reports every day of trouble in the independent systems. Our fleet needs more combat experience but the President won't authorize sorties beyond the border."

James turned to look at Tallia. She was beautiful. She was also sharp and could fight with the best of them. He'd wanted to take her on as his executive officer during the war against Druckenwell but Central Command had denied the request. They'd kept in touch over the years and he respected her opinion. He could tell she was itching for a fight.

"President Ypres is playing it safe," James replied as his eyes swept the turbolift for bugs. Finding none, he continued, "and that never got us anywhere. He has a highly trained navy, eager to sink their teeth into some real exercises, but is afraid to turn them loose to enforce our will beyond our borders. If Eleanor were in charge things would be different."

"Yes they would," Gray replied, "they would be much different. Perhaps our lives would be different as well."

"We've been down that road before," James warned. "It can only end in misery."

"I'd like to try again," Gray said as her hand brushed his.

"Don't," James whispered, "too soon."

"You always did play it safe," Gray observed.

"Only when it comes to women," James replied, "and I believe this is my stop."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, Admiral," Gray called out.

James didn't respond as the turbolift doors closed behind him. He was still recovering from his bad break up with Kasey. Their relationship hadn't gone well. She'd wanted to stay on Trian and teach the natives. He'd wanted to travel the stars in search of adventure. Last he'd heard she'd made her way back to Roon. That was surprising. Unexpected. Young Jack, Kaitlyn's son, was now living with Eleanor. The break up had been hard on him. At least he'd have a good home. Something, right now, he just couldn't provide. Refused to provide.

Reaching his room, James poured himself a drink. His hand shook as he set the glass down. His old problem was returning and he had a class in the morning.


Hero of Roon.....please.

Damn it all.

Tag: Trieste;jcgoble3;Tim Battershell;

 

I think I like where this is going.

 

Federation Speedway

Nunurra, Roon

Victoria Vehn, braided pony tail flapping in the wind behind her, gunned the throttle forward of the nimble podracer as she entered the first of a series of sharp S curves. She felt her body pushed to the extreme edge as gravity threatened to break her concentration at the apex of the curve where the natural force of nature was at its strongest. She kept her eyes focused on the inside, free hand steady and strong on the controls, as she deftly shot past her husband, Kurt Vehn whose cautious approach had cost him the lead.

Kurt Vehn shook his head as his wife zoomed past. She was crazier than he was. She was one hell of a competitor. He knew he couldn't hold back now. He knew he couldn't waste any more time. This was his opportunity. He slalomed his way through the sharp S curves and punched the throttle asking more and more of his machine which started to whine in protest.

Now the husband and wife were racing down the straightaway. The finish line loomed large as heat shimmered off the track and the tell tale scream of their engines reverberated through the stands in a classic signal of the great sport of podracing on Roon. Kurt was abreast of Victoria. The pair looked at one another. Dark reflective visors hiding their eyes, hiding their expressions, hiding their competitive edge. They both knew only one would win. They both knew that the race was never destined to end in a tie. Who was going to cross the finish line first?

Victoria's thumb slipped down toward a red button. She was considering releasing a high octane booster to pump more out of the engines in the event of a dead tie. If she ran the booster for too long it'd burn out the engines. All
she wanted was that extra burst of speed. All she wanted was that extra edge to seal the deal.

Kurt happened to look over and see Victoria's hand shift. He had spent years with her now. He knew what was coming. He was nearly to the finish line. His options were running out. His time was slipping away. It was now or never. Now or never to win. He dropped back and slipped behind Victoria. He was right on her bumper. The wind resistance was nearly gone now. For all intents and purposes he had disappeared.

Victoria looked in her rear view mirror and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew what Kurt had just done. They were tandem drafting. They were creating clean air. They were cheating the wind. They were now hurtling toward the finish line at a speed that would prove too dangerous to use the booster now. If she pressed the button her engine pylons would rip away and she'd potentially have a serious accident on her hand.

Kurt smiled as he pushed Victoria toward the finish line. Her advantage was now rendered useless. She was vulnerable. She was right where he wanted her to be. He casually flicked a switch in the cockpit and adjusted the turbine vanes that controlled the amount of air rushing into the engine. The engine began to spool harder. He had one shot at this. One shot at victory.

"What are you doing back there, Kurt?" Victoria called out over the comm.

"Trust me," Kurt replied.

Kurt could feel the turbulence, the pod attempting to lift higher off the ground, as he tugged gently on the stick. It was time. He punched the throttle forward, popping above the airflow, and felt his pod soar high into the sky, engines rocketing, cockpit shaking and vibrating, as the aggressive maneuver put him over the top of Victoria's podracer as he came hurtling back to the ground. The lead was his.

Leapfrog complete.

Kurt passed the finish line and pumped a fist in the air as he slowed to a halt. Victoria parked nearby and quickly undid her safety harness. The pair met on the tarmac, helmets off, and cursed one another out.

"Frakking dangerous move out there!" Victoria yelled.

"You were going to fry me with your boosters, calm down!" Kurt shot back.

"You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"You could've ended the race and you held back," Kurt challenged.

"Your pod nearly shattered up there! I saw what the airflow was doing!" Victoria said.

"I'm alive, aren't I?"

"You could've been killed, Kurt," Victoria said.

"Oh, so now you're worried," Kurt said as he turned to a group of teenagers who stared at the two professional racers in awe. "We're fine guys. I hope you were taking notes."

"That right there is a classic example of what not to do," Victoria said as she shot Kurt a look of frustration.

"Any questions?" Kurt asked.

A dozen hands shot up in the air.

Kurt and Victoria shared a knowing look. They had a captive audience today. Unfortunately it had nearly cost them both their lives. Both racers, both professionals, understood the risk involved. That was part of the game. Part of the challenge. Part of the adventure.


The pair had started a racing club to give youth the skills and training to become professional racers. Most of them were years away from making it big but the few that showed promise, well, they could get their start in the lower leagues soon enough. They loved teaching. They loved instructing. There was only two things they loved even more: each other and racing.

The Federation Speedway Junior Racers Club was officially underway. So many lessons to teach and so little time.

Tag: Trieste;jcgoble3;Tim Battershell;Jedi_Perigrine

 

And now the third angle. Nice to see Kurt and Victoria giving back by teaching the kids. I look forward to seeing how many more angles you're going to set in motion.

 

This is precisely what I was hoping to see (not the content, just the changing angles of the various members of the Vehn family) and it's coming together nicely!

Now, I don't suppose that Kurt and Victoria retired to their quarters after that race for a little making up, did they? I certainly would have written it that way.

 

OOC: The triangle has become a square. Four points of view as the Vehn saga unfolds.

Nunurra, Roon
Nunurra State University



Professor Aiden Bhairn sat on the corner of his desk at the front of the lecture room casually tossing an apple up in the air as he looked across a sea of heads, a sea of students. Most of the students were in their 20s with a few outliers sprinkled thereabout. He could tell they were thinking. Pondering. Wondering how best to answer the question he had put to them. A question that didn't have a right or wrong answer. A question that was simply thrown out there to provoke discussion.

"Why are we here?" Professor Bhairn asked his class again.

"To learn," came one response.

"Because we have to be," came another.

"Because if we did not show up today, if everything came to a halt, the entire system would collapse," a stronger voice,
distinct, from the back of the room said.

Professor Bhairn stood and raised his index finger approvingly. "Very good, very good! So tell me, then, what would happen if the system collapsed?"

"Endless war," one student said.

"Chaos," another added.

"I see," Professor Bhairn interrupted, "so the system creates order. The system creates a schedule. A time. Requires you to be in this class, me to teach it, our food to be prepared, the buses to arrive exactly when they need to, the lights to work, on and on. So what is the system?"

"People!"

"You're getting closer," Professor Bhairn teased.

"Political parties!"

"The military!"

"Government!"

"Bingo," Professor Bhairn said with delight, "yes, you understand my question. The system is all those things mentioned. It's made up of people, you and me, it's made up of sections of the government like the military, it's made up of the entire government as a whole, even political parties. You and I are the system. We make it run. We have the power to make it come to a grinding halt."

Silence fell around the room.

"We have the power to make the entire system collapse. All of us could walk out on this class. You could look me right in the eyes and tell me that History 365: War and Peace in the Eastern Outer Rim is full of sithspit. But you won't. In fact all of you will sit there and continue to come to class every day. For some of you it is truly for education. For others it is because parents have expectations of you. Perhaps a few of you just want to avoid getting a real job. Maybe you just like hearing me talk. Either way this class is part of the system. The Roon Federation is the system."

More silence.

"How old do you think I am?"

A few grumbles.

"No, really, tell me," Professor Bhairn insisted.

"55!"

"60!"

"80!"

"Ancient!"

Professor Bhairn laughed and replied, "I am old enough to remember hearing stories from my father about the Neo-Sith War, the rise of the Osarian Federation, and the Federal Republic of Kamino. I missed all of these experiences that have come to define where we are at today. That have come to define the politics of this very unique region of space. How many of you remember any of these governments? Anyone?"

Only one or two people raised their hands.

"How many of you grew during the Roon Trade Organization?"

Most of the hands shot up.

"Anyone serve in the wars on Lannik and Leritor?" Professor Bhairn asked.

A dozen hands shot up.

"How about during the Roon-Druckenwellian War," he asked again.

Two thirds of the class raised their hands.

"So tell me, folks, what has changed the most in your lifetimes?"

"The rise of political parties," one student said, "the Federalists and the Preservationists."

"Mmmm," Professor Bhairn said nodding his head, "yes this has caused a great deal of trouble in the last year or two. Since I'm starting to run out of time let's focus on the political parties. Why did they come about?"

"The ineffectual rule of President Eleanor Vehn to unite the political factions of the Federation," one student suggested.

"I heard it all went to pot after she left office," another student added.

"President William Ypres hasn't done much either," a third student chimed in. "Glad I didn't vote for the guy."


That drew a few laughs and a few boos. Professor Bhairn shook his head, "Keep it civil, folks. Let's take a step back and discuss how these parties came to be so influential in modern Federation politics..."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"I enjoyed your class," former President Eleanor Vehn said as she walked toward Professor Bhairn.

"Madame President, what an honor," Professor Bhairn said. "I am not often visited by members of the administration. Anything in particular you liked?"

"I particularly liked the part where you suggested that a stronger foreign policy initiative by the Federation would have prevented the abduction of Grace Vehn. Naturally such a touchy subject generated lots of buzz in the room. Were you trying to instigate a riot?"

Professor Bhairn shrugged his shoulders. "I thought it was worth exploring. The disappearance of Grace Vehn is the greatest mystery of our time."

"Well you might be right there but the real reason I'm talking to you today is because you had an idea. A brilliant idea. One that I think might help the Federation secure its footing without having to keep up an expensive military," Eleanor said, "and it's not often I come across brilliant ideas.

"Covert operations?" Professor Bhair said. "You've come to talk to me about covert operations?"

"The Federation is sitting on a surplus of credits. Most of that is spoils of war. The rest of it is trade agreement with the independent systems and the Hutts. You're not a military man, Professor Bhairn, I can see that. But you have a sharp mind. You suggested that the creation of a special operations force to take out threats before they grow caught my attention. That such a force would be capable of protecting the Federation on an even greater level than the standing military can do on its own."

"All theories of course," Professor Bhairn said, "and I doubt they would be approved by the President."

"What if I could guarantee you an audience with the President?" Eleanor asked.

"Are you serious?"

"I am."

"When?"

"Does now work for you?"Eleanor asked.

Professor Bhairn was ushered into a speeder which took him quickly to the office of President William Ypres, second President of the Roon Federation.

Tag: Trieste;jcgoble3;Tim Battershell

 

Now that was different, and very interesting. Where else can you take us?

 

"You suggested that the creation of a special operations force to take out threats before they grow caught my attention."

Before? Great in theory, tricky in practice.

 

(Start at 1:00
into the song)


Nime, Roon
Presidential Palace

"The idea has merit," President William Ypres admitted, "but I have no political grounds to push it through the Senate. I'm sure you're aware, Professor Bhairn, I have very little foreign capital to work with. I'm promised to the people to see several domestic agendas through first. People are tired of war. People are tired of a large military. There are more and more calls to have the Federation withdraw from the very few external commitments it has left."

"I understand that Mr. President," Professor Bhairn explained, "but this special force could tip the balance of power in the Federation's favor. All the signs point to evidence that the independent systems are where the future conflicts of this government will exist. Why be dragged into a prolonged war betwen two worlds beyond our borders when we have the ability to nip the problem before it ever grows?"

"The professor has a point," General Stanley Oakes, leader of the Federation military, added. "I've been pushing for such a force for years. Mr. President you have the ability right now to change the future of the Federation. To prevent needless deaths from ever happening. I can promise you the support of the military. They have a significant representation in the Senate. Let us help you."

"Eleanor?" William asked.

Former President of the Roon Federation Eleanor Vehn nodded her head in agreement. "I believe you have the ability to cement your legacy in one fell swoop. You will be known as the man who secured a lasting peace. The domestic victories will come, Mr. President. This is one victory I pray you do not overlook. You have the authority to sign this initiative into law under the Federation Charter."

"I need some time," William replied, "Give me 24 hours."

---

24 Hours Later
II Avali,
Druckenwell


"On behalf of the President of the Roon Federation, the Federation Army, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service."

Eleanor wiped away a single tear as the Federation flag was presented to the widow of Sergeant Geoffrey Tarmack who came unglued as the honor guard passed the flag to her. Eleanor's heart went out to her in this moment of grief. She was sure her presence would only complicate matters so she stayed behind. She didn't want to get involved. Today she was not a former President of the Roon Federation. Today she was simply a concerned citizen doing her duty to honor the fallen.

Tarmack had gone on to get a degree in Biology at Druckenwell Tech following action during the old RTO's military engagements on Lannik and Leritor in the mid 260s. He re-enlisted when the war against Druckenwell broke out and fought with distinction for the Fifth Druckenwell Division against Roon on Herdessa and later Mon Gazza.

"I met him once," Eleanor said. "It was a seminar on Environmental Biology at Nime University."

"I remember pinning the Federation's highest military honor on his chest just weeks ago," William replied as the two walked away from the funeral following the end of ceremonies.

"He was so smart. He had the ability to teach to anyone," Eleanor said, "he was a rare man. A gem. A treasure. A true scholar."

"A son of Druckenwell," William admitted, "and too young to die."

"I heard it was murder," Eleanor said, "and the police are dragging their feet. What evidence they do have points to the independent systems."

"In the wake of such tragedy, perhaps today is a good day to discuss our foreign policy," William said.

"Tell me you've thought more about Professor Bhairn's idea," Eleanor said.

"I have and after reading the report on Tarmack's death," William trailed off.

"If you're concerned about the political capital I can assure you there will be significant support for this in the Senate," Eleanor said.

"When the people elected me I promised them I would not get involved in the foreign affairs of the independent systems," William reminded his predecessor, "and I hold to that promise even now."

"You don't have to get involved. This special force will do our dirty work for us. They will keep the Federation safe for decades without dragging us into costly wars we cannot possibly win," Eleanor replied. "The money can come straight out of the defense budget."

"I wanted to be known for developing the Federation in peace time. Not pursuing policies that by their very nature resort to sordid methods of resolving disputes," William said.

"You will be remembered for making the Federation strong, Mr. President. What no one will ever credit you for is the creation of a force that will save generations of citizens from needless deaths. We live in a hard region of space. We live in a galaxy that wants to tear us apart. How many wars have been fought out here? How many friends and family have we had to bury?" Eleanor said.

"Far too many," William replied.

"General Oakes assures me that this task force is ready," Eleanor said.

"So soon?"

"He started training the force before I left office," Eleanor pointed out. "If we go ahead with this plan we are securing the Federation, our alliance with the Hutts, and years of hard work to rebuild ties with the Republic for generations to come. Now is the time, Mr. President, to lead the Federation into the future. I could never have done that as President. My family name holds me back from achieving more. You do not have those inhibitions."

"When I get back to Nime I will make sure this force is deployed as soon as possible," William said. "Does it have a name?"

"The special operations force?" Eleanor asked.

"Yes," William replied.

"The Phantoms," Eleanor said.

"Somehow I find that very fitting," William said as the pair walked to a waiting speeder.

"There's still the matter of POWs returning home from the war," Eleanor said, "why not work on that on the ride home?"

"I think the creation of the Phantoms is enough innovation for one day," William said. "We'll talk about POWs later...."

Tag: Trieste;jcgoble3;Tim Battershell

 

Nice. Keep it coming!

 

So where exactly do the Phantoms operate? Inside the Federation, outside? Depending on the answer, their relations with other powers could become...interesting.

 

South Fork, Roon

"Make sure you read chapters two and three at home this weekend. We'll review when we start in again next week!" Kasey called out as her children shot out the front of the school to freedom.

Kasey headed back toward her desk and nearly tripped as her foot ripped through a rotten floor board. Pain shot up her leg as she fought to break free. A few choice words escaped her lips as she finally wedged her foot out of the trap. She pounded the floor with her boots a few times for good measure as her temper flared. This wasn't a school. It was a deathtrap.

She let her neck relax and gently rocked it backward as she attempted to relieve tension. Her eyes caught sight of all the holes on the roof. The nests of pidgeons. The smell of bat guano. A few largish spiders dwelling in the rafters between the boundaries of shadow and light. There was so much work to be done and so little time or resources available. The fact that the school she was teaching at wasn't officially part of the Federation Public Education system didn't help things either.

She'd wanted something independent. She'd wanted a challenge. She'd certainly gotten that the minute she arrived in South Fork. It was like stepping back in time. It was like living in another world. The people were friendly enough once they found out she was the new teacher. They just didn't have any money. That seemed odd to her because the men worked long shifts in the forest felling trees, running the mills, loading up the trains that would send the boards into the cities of Nime and Nunurra. Then she'd be walking home from school and see the men blasting their wages at the bar in town. So that answered that question.

"I came as soon as I could," Professor Aiden Bhairn said with a smile as he stood in the entrance. "Your letter reflected a sense of urgency. Looking at this school, the surrounding property, I see now why you summoned me."

"I hope I didn't take you away from anything important?" Kasey asked as she embraced her long time mentor.

"Nothing that the federal government can't handle," the Professor replied with a grin.

"Would you like something to drink?" Kasey offered.

"Certainly," the Professor replied.

"Tea?"

"Have anything stronger?"

Kasey smiled and walked into a back room. She grabbed an old bottle of whiskey. Maybe the same stuff they used in the Old Whiskey Trophy fought for by the Bakura Miners and Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. Either way it was telling stuff. The drink was known as the problem solver, the great pacifier, and the idea inducer and right now Kasey needed all the help she could get.

"So, how do you like it?" Professor Bhairn asked once they had settled into their seats on the front porch.

"It's different. It's a challenge," Kasey admitted, "but I wouldn't run away from doing this work. I feel called to help those in need. The rural communities of Roon are lagging behind Nunurra and Nime. Education, income levels, and unemployment, all of these are dragging the region down. South Fork used to be a thriving town. The few mills that are left are struggling to hold onto a dying ideal of the past. Communities like South Fork need to move forward into the current century."

"So why do people stay?" Bhairn asked sipping his drink.

"The ideal of the past. A dream that is long gone. Family. Tradition," Kasey replied attempting to explain. "It's frustating when you look into these children's eyes and see nothing. No hope. No desire to do better. No desire to leave. All I want is to ignite that fire in just one of them. Just one!"

"Perhaps you will. Given enough time, Kasey, you may very well ignite a passion inside all of them," Bhairn said.

"I don't even know where to begin," Kasey said.

"I've got a few ideas if you're interested..." Professor Aiden Bhairn suggested.

---

The Spire
Federation Naval Academy
Orbit of Rothana

"Today I am going to discuss unorthodox tactics. I could focus on the most recent war the Federation has fought. There are plenty of examples to choose from. Instead, however, I'd like to focus on a war that had a profound impact on a planet that is known as the beacon of democracy in the Outer Rim. A planet that signed a historic cease fire with the Ssi-Ruu after the Battle of Endor. A planet that was brutally occupied by the Sith during the Neo-Sith War. A planet that fought a civil war not so very long ago and became a better people as a result. Today I am going to talk about the Bakuran Civil War, specifically the Adama Maneuver," Admiral James Hawkes said as his students sat up in their seats. He knew they liked presentations on tactics. That was good.

James keyed up the hologram that dominated the center of the room. He noted how much he liked the stadium seating of this circular lecture hall. It made for easy presentations. It made for easy lessons. He took a drink of water as he reviewed footage of the maneuver. Fiona Westenra had some real fortitude. He'd always wanted to meet her. He'd nearly had the opportunity to do so before relations between the Republic and the old RTO broke down.

"The Maple Flag Republic," James said, starting his presentation, "Nouvelle Orleans. A city under siege for years by the Bakuran Marines. A city protected by the First Maple Army under the command of the venerable, and intelligent, General Shi. A city with large deflector shields that kept one of the most tenacious professional armies the galaxy has ever seen at bay. It was a city that served as the economic and cultural hub of the Dixie counties during their uprising against the sovereign government of Bakura. It was a city for all and intents and purposes that needed to be broken wide open. Take Nouvelle Orleans and that long awaited victory would begin for the Federal government of Bakura."

James paused to take a drink.

"As we all know deflector shields have the power to repel huge amounts of firepower. Turbolasers from starships, high energy weapons from assault walkers, even heavy ordinance from bombers. What they are not designed to do is stop fast moving, very large objects. Enter the Adama Maneuver. A maneuver, as I mentioned earlier, only performed by one individual in galactic history. The maneuver requires a large object, typically starship size, to enter an established deflector shield grid at very high velocity. Think hyperspeed. Once inside the deflector shield, the starship will typically deploy brakes or thrusters to prevent impact with the surface. Once flight has been stabilized the starship can bring all of their weapons to bear on a target at incredibly close range with devastating results. As you might imagine the physical forces placed upon the starship are severe. The effects on the crew can be even moreso. Done properly, done correctly, the maneuver is very safe. Done poorly and this can happen-"

The hologram showed a ship attempting the maneuver and being ripped in half only several hundred meters above the ground. Several bodies were flung away from the starship and sent hurtling toward the surface. The clip ended.

"Admiral Fiona Westenra was tasked with breaking the siege of Nouvelle Orleans. It was a direct order from her sister, Prime Minister Kerry Trieste. There was only one tactic that could work. One tactic at this point in the war that could bring Nouvelle Orleans to the breaking point. The Adama Maneuver was coming back in full force. Using an aging Mark 1 BakurStar known as the Arden, Fiona ordered a hyperspace jump through the deflector shields. Once under the shields, Fiona ordered the launching of all starfighters. The demolition of the city's defenses began from a direction nobody had thought possible, certainly not Commander Shi. The attack came from behind. Resistance from the First Maple Army melted away. They weren't stupid. They weren't dying for nothing."

"The Arden then made another hyperspace jump to safety leaving the starfighters to mop up the remaining opposition. The shields came down shortly therafter and General Castor, commander of the Federal Marines, marched into the heart of Nouvelle Orleans unopposed. The year was 260. The war would be over in another year. It was the high water mark for the Maple Flag Republic. It was a defeat that is still talked about to this very day. It was a maneuver that shall go down as one of the greatest in all of naval history."

"Questions?"

"Admiral," Commandant Tallia Gray said from the back of the room. "Isn't it true that the Maple Flag Republic was already on the verge of total collapse. Nouvelle Orleans could've fallen any day and that the Adama Maneuver performed by Fiona Trieste-" she refused to refer to Fiona by her once married name out of respect for what happened later,"was nothing more than a publicity stunt? An act of propandanda to boost support for Kerry Trieste's government?"

"That's certainly one way of looking at the maneuver," James said as the lights slowly raised in the room. "but might I remind you, Commandant, that the Adama Maneuver is incredibly risky. The Arden was carrying a full contingent that day. Any wrong move, any mistake, and all hands would've been lost. I highly doubt that the maneuver being a piece of wartime propaganda was the primary motivation to end the war."

"Certainly other methods could've been used," Tallia said, "don't you agree?"

"Such as?"

"Starve Nouvelle Orleans in a siege, send a small team in to disable the deflector shields from within, launch an all out assault to finish them off," Tallia rattled off.

That got the cadets' attention. Something was in the air. Something was up now. They could smell an argument brewing.

"The objective wasn't to destroy Nouvelle Orleans. The objective was to rip the heart out of the Dixie counties," James replied, "and I'm not sure that any of your suggestions would've led to the preservation of a historic city."

"What would you prefer? A pre-emptive strike that starts an all out war?" Tallia said.

James felt a chill slip down his spine. She had him dead to rights. She'd been reading his file. Reading his journal. Snooping around in things she couldn't possibly understand. Now she'd brought up the attack of the frigate Tawntoom on Coalition warships that started hostilities between Druckenwell and Roon.

"Class dismissed," James barked. "I'd like a word with you, Commandant."

The midshipmen and women filed out of the lecture hall leaving Tallia and James alone. The two beings stared at one another for a long while. Finally Tallia made her way over to a desk in the corner of the room. She sat on the edge, one leg propped up on a nearby chair, and said, "Well?"

"I can't have you challenging me in front of my students, Commandant," James said stepping closer.

"I thought you liked a challenge," Tallia replied, "I thought you enjoyed getting your hands dirty."

"Were you trying to insult me out there? Not every student in this class needs to know that I fired the shots that started a war that took their family members away from them!" James said. He was so close now he could reach out and touch her if he wanted.

"Do you really care what anyone thinks?" Tallia said.

"No, but you need to be taught a lesson," James grunted.

"Do I?" Tallia taunted.

He couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Tallia by the waist and drew her close to him. He kissed her on the lips, down her neck. Her smell was intoxicating. The pair tore through their clothes and were soon joined as one. The sounds of their lovemaking echoed off the lecture hall. Fortunately this was the last class of the day. Nobody would be by for hours. Nobody would ever know what happened.

It was their little secret.

---

One Week Later
Bakura

Fleet Week.

The idea had caught like wildfire.

An idea mentioned in a meeting on Rothana, passed along at a dinner on Nime, whispered in the ears of a Bakuran diplomat, and now landing squarely in the lap of the beautiful city by the bay: Cape Suzette. It was an idea months and years in the making. It was an idea that was predicated on the close diplomatic ties between Bakura and Roon. Ties that also bound two powerful families who called those planets home. It was an idea that had been nurtured despite strained relations betwen Roon and Coruscant.

Five Federation warships exited hyperspace in perfect formation. The Tawntoom, oldest frigate in the fleet and flagship of the Federation Navy, began a steady cruise toward Bakura and the waiting Bakuran fleet. Once the rendezvous with the Bakuran Navywas complete, and proper greetings exchanged, the five Federation warships began their descent, one by one, toward Cape Suzette.

The weather was perfect. Not a cloud could be seen and only a slight breeze kept the air cool around the magnificent bay. Thousands of beings lined the docks as the Federation fleet made Cape Suzette their port of call. A few Federation expats waved flags and joyously cried out in support of a government that they longed to return to now that the war with Druckenwell was over.

Admiral James Hawkes stood on the bridge of the Tawntoom and felt the engines cut out underneath him. He looked around the bay and marveled at the pristine waters and the magnificent architecture of Cape Suzette. He could feel the tension in the room as if the entire ship were waiting for his orders to enjoy their time here on Bakura.

"Dismissed!" James barked into the comm.

The sailors scrambled into the beautiful city.


Fleet week, the first of its kind, had officially begun.

Tag: Trieste;jcgoble3

 

Fleet Week--oh yes. Ain't no party like a Fleet Week party.

 

II Avali, Druckenwell
The Metropolitan Hotel
Conference Room A

Vera Grames entered the Metropolitan Hotel with one purpose: to interview potential recruits coming out of Druckenwell Technical University for the Elite League Limmie team known as the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. She wasn't alone. She was accompanied by her good friend and general manager of the squad, Addison Karr. The pair had written off the 284 season as a loss. The team was struggling and it was best to look forward to acquiring new talent down the road.

She made her way down the main hall on her way to her room. Her fast stride carried her past the dining room, past the workout room, past the indoor pool, and was about to make her way past the conference room when a voice caught her attention. She paused in the doorway of the conference room and listened.

"Lot 962," the presenter began as the wall behind him rotated around to show the item being auctioned, "a pilot's jacket from the Roon-Druckenwell War. This particular jacket was used by a Coalition pilot. He was shot down over the surface of Herdessa in the final hours of the war. Some say he was shot down after the official ceasefire between Roon and Druckenwell. Today we are auctioning off the jacket found on him when he was pulled away from the wreckage. This particular pilot had over 128 confirmed kills. He was an ace. He was one of the best. He was a hero. His name was Mike Grames. It is rumored that his last known location was a prison camp in Federation space. Some say Rhen Var. Other say he died. I suppose we shall never know. The item starts at 1,000 credits. Do we have 1,000 credits out there?"

Vera felt chills slip down her spine as she took a seat in the back of the room. Her fingers tightened around the auction paddle. Her heart rate slowed. Her breathing became shallow. As she examined the jacket, belonging to her husband, she felt as if her entire world had been turned upside down. When last she'd heard Mike had been killed over Herdessa. Now this auctioneer seemed to know more about what was going on with her husband than she did. Was it possible that Mike was still alive? That he was in a Federation prison camp on Rhen Var? A bidding war had started. It was ugly.

"2,000-"

"2,500-"

"3,000..."

The auctioneer spoke rapidly nodding in the direction of the two men who eagerly wanted a piece of military history.

"I thought all the Federation prisoners were released following the end of the war?" Addison asked.

"So did I," Vera replied, "but perhaps some were not. If that's the case then there's a chance my husband is still alive!"

Vera tore out of the room. She didn't care about the jacket. She didn't care about the auction. All she could think about was finding her husband. The search had been renewed. The old feelings inside had been resurrected.

"Vera!" Addison called as she caught up with her friend. "Where are you going?"

"To give someone a call," Vera replied through gritted teeth.

"Who?"

"Eleanor Vehn," Vera replied as she punched a button on her comlink.

---

Federation Speedway Garages
Nunurra, Roon

"Try this hydrospanner, Cally," Victoria offered to Cally Cassidy Cannes who was currently underneath a podracer turbine.



Cally, 16 years old, had a temper like nobody else but also nerves of steel during some very intense races. Her parents had given her up for adoption years ago. She'd floated from one foster home to the next. A few weeks ago she'd gotten herself into trouble with the law. Robbed a liquor store. Her foster parents were at wits end. They didn't want to move her to a differnet home and the still cared enough about her to avoid sending her to jail. So they decided on something else. Work to pay off her debts. This was what they had come up with. An opportunity to work at Federation Speedway and learn some real skills. Skills that could keep her out of trouble.

"Fine," Cally grunted, "and the name's CC!"

"CC, right," Victoria reminded herself as she felt the hydrospanner ripped out of her outstretched hand. "Make sure you gently tighten the bolts down. You don't want to strip them."

"I know!" CC said.

"I want to make sure you are doing the job right, CC," Victoria said, "I'm not trying to criticize you."

"This new alternator is a real dog to put in," CC groaned. "I can't get the right angle."

"Need a hand?"

"I've almost got it," CC said.

"Sure?"

"Frak!" CC yelled as the hydrospanner went flying with a clatter across the durracrete floor.

Before Victoria could react CC had flung herself from underneath the pod and rolled to her knees and then on to her feet. She held her hand in close to her body and winced.

"Let me see," Victoria said.

"Leave me alone," CC shot back.

"You want to lose your hand?" Victoria shot back.

CC shook her head.

"Then let me see," Victoria insisted.

CC held out her hand. A sharp burn had penetrated the skin. The engine had been running only an hour earlier. Some parts of the podracer were still hot. It was a common mistake. Victoria had her share of burns and scrapes from all the hours she put into pods. It was a part of the business. Still, those burns hurt like hell.

"That better?" Victoria said as she gently spread an ointment over the burn.

"Yeah, thanks," CC replied.

"You want to call it quits for the night?" Victoria asked.

"I never quit," CC replied, "not ever."

"You want some help this time?" Victoria said with a smile.

"Yeah, sure...." CC said as the pair crawled under the podracer and went to work.

Tag: Trieste;jcgoble3

 

So Mike could still be alive. Nice twist.

Cally is going to end up with a major role in this story. I can feel it.