Star Wars: Republic Dawn

[Jae Onasi]

Hmm. I guess you didn't want to just spring that on your story's readers, eh? Preparing us for an ending we might not like too much? FWIW, I really liked the ending of The Matrix: Revolutions movie, if that gives you any indication of my particular tastes. Not that you should cater to my tastes but purely for informational purposes only.

True, but I don't really see how that compares with what the Chancellor did. The Chancellor fired most of his top military leaders and then put them on trial. The only person I remember taking the fall in Bush's administration was George Tenet and considering how that came about I'm not really sure that counts as "house cleaning."

 

I hate death in Star Wars stories unless it's for a very, very good reason. I always view the series as nearly everyone making it out by the skin of their teeth.

 

Picky med detail--dislocations don't get reset, but fractures do get set. Dislocations get 'reduced'. Most laypeople say 'the doc popped it back in joint,' or 'doc put it back in its socket.' You might consider having Breia ask the Marine to put it back in its socket instead of resetting it. This might be a good place to have the Marine be a combat medic also, since most of us don't know how to reduce a dislocation correctly. If it's done wrong, it can actually cause more damage by catching some other tissues with it as it goes back in socket.

 

When the Chancellor sacked nearly the entire top-level brass, I got a little concerned about the Chancellor's motives--the only time I've seen a shake-up to that severe a degree is when a dictator comes to power.

 

Ugh. You're ending the story way too soon.

[machievelli]

I hate death in Star Wars stories unless it's for a very, very good reason. I always view the series as nearly everyone making it out by the skin of their teeth.

Not all of them will die well. Two will be rather badly and worse, will fail. One will die off screen and you may never know why. One will die nobly, the other because of a personal choice.

 

I am more sorry than you are. As the author, I am letting the story have it's head, and when they die it will be when there time has come. Trust me on that.

 

Picky med detail--dislocations don't get reset, but fractures do get set. Dislocations get 'reduced'. Most laypeople say 'the doc popped it back in joint,' or 'doc put it back in its socket.' You might consider having Breia ask the Marine to put it back in its socket instead of resetting it. This might be a good place to have the Marine be a combat medic also, since most of us don't know how to reduce a dislocation correctly. If it's done wrong, it can actually cause more damage by catching some other tissues with it as it goes back in socket.

 

 

Noted, and corrected.

 

When the Chancellor sacked nearly the entire top-level brass, I got a little concerned about the Chancellor's motives--the only time I've seen a shake-up to that severe a degree is when a dictator comes to power.

 

What happened there was pretty much what happened in Russia after the KAL 007 fiasco. The three senior men in Stranya PVO, the Eartern Air Defense Network were fired by Gorby. Removing four officers and the equivilant of the Secretary of the Navy is only a modest shake up in a disaster of this proportion.

 

Ugh. You're ending the story way too soon.

 

Hey, you have four more chapters to go before section one is complete. As Yogi said 'it ain't over til it's over'.

[machievelli]

Denoument

 

Honor Blade dropped toward Nar Shaddaa. Lang looked at his screen as a Hutt appeared. “Administrator Hoom. I am Padawan Lang of the Jedi Monastery. I come as representative of the combined investigation team on the station attacks.”

 

“I was informed of your mission, Jedi.” The Hutt replied. “The factory is open for your inspection, as are the records.”

 

“Are there any other factories that make the same chemical?”

 

“Yes. They have also been informed and told to await you attention. There is one thing that puzzles us, however.”

 

“That is?”

 

“The link to the Sulishti. They do not use our chemical.”

 

“What?”

 

“Their reactors are all indigenous, as is their coolant. None of our chemical products are used by them. There is no reason to ship what has been shipped to them. Besides, no one needs seventy million cubic meters of our gas.”

 

“Seventy million?” Lang pondered. “When was that shipped?”

 

“One ship, the Feradi left two weeks ago bound for Fondor. The other, Bondrant less than a week ago bound for Sulisht.”

 

“What class were these ships?”

 

“Balladeer bulk transports. The gas was highly compressed.”

 

“Goddess!” He said. “Send a torpedo to Coruscant.” He ordered Shani. “Administrator, the factory that manufacture it-”

 

“Has already been seized.”

 

“I will meet your investigators there.”

 

*****

 

A class of children between five and nine in age surrounded a man in his fifties, working on a guided meditation. The man nodded, acknowledging Sanji’s passage even as his slow steady voice directed them on their personal quests. The training stopped only for sleep, and since a lot of students stayed on their home planet’s circadian cycles, it meant that it could go on around the clock at times.

 

Past classrooms where history of all the known races was taught. No human would live long enough to know it all, but by using the ways different people viewed the same situations, enough could be passed on in a decade or so to be of use. Others where languages were being taught for the day when these young student would be sent out to smooth the way for others.

 

Past a courtyard where a dozen students watched a master dueling with seven others, each armed with a practice blade. The master moved with an unhurried almost languid grace, dodging blows, blocking only those that came close enough to be a danger. He disarmed one, chopping another, the ballistic cloth hardening to spread the impact so that the 15 year old girl was just winded, not seriously injured. In the next courtyard, children went through a dizzying array of traps, running as fast as their force augmented muscles let them.

 

Another run, this armed with turrets firing real bullets halted him for a moment. The boy running the course was using obstacles, the force heightened reflexes and when necessary, his blade to deflect them. He stopped, clutching his arm, and the turrets died.

 

“No.” A master stepped down, walking up to him. “Do not let yourself become distracted.” He looked up balefully at the master that had caused his brief inattention. “Allow yourself to become one with it, and it will guide you. Is the arm all right?”

 

“Yes, master. The cloth spread it out as it is meant to.” The boy rolled his arm. “I will go again.”

 

“Yes.” The master looked at Sanji again, and returned to the control panel.

 

Sanji walked on. The courtyard where the council met was quiet. Breia looked up at his arrival.

 

“What have you heard, Master?” She asked.

 

“It is surprising how efficient a bureaucracy can be when they have both ONI and the Chancellor breathing down their necks.” He replied mildly. “The Balladeer class vessel Feradi is owned by the Brenoril company of Fondor. Odd, because it was never incorporated or formed. The only proof of a company is the one money transfer from an account closed the instant it cleared.

 

“But if anyone who knew Fondorian had been there, they might have wondered. You see, Brenoril is the Fondorian word for ‘ghost’. The two ships, Feradi and Bondrant have names that mean-”

 

“Vengeance and Nemesis.”

 

“Correct.” Sanji looked at the sky. “We were able to trace the purchase of a factory on Nar Shaddaa which manufactured the tainted gas. The factory was purchased using funds from a criminal organization named the Hand. The Government arrested the head men of the organization and they told all to escape the death penalty. They also slipped the tainted gas into the outgoing shipments of Bidraxidine from the regular manufacturers. It all arrived together here. I believe from that point-”

 

“The warehouse records were tampered with. The Czerka manager is up on mass murder charges even as we speak. The A4 unit I have was able to trace the transfers of gas. A man in custody named Harrigan is responsible for the actual orders for shipping it. He was on the station day before last, planting a program that changed the all hands klaxon back to the old tone. He was found under about a ton of debris from an explosion. Pure luck that he was still alive trapped alone, unable to kill himself or anyone else. He still had the data wand he had used to change the computer on the station, and in return for life without parole instead of a death sentence, he sang like a bird.”

 

“Then all we need is to trace the gas, find Landru and the affair is over.”

 

“Yes. But to do that I need permission to leave. I don’t have a ship until mine is repaired. I have already chartered a civilian courier-”

 

“Which will not be necessary.” Master Soo-chin replied entering the courtyard. “Both of you were asked to be here by the Chancellor.”

 

“What is it?” Breia moaned. “Another medal?”

 

“Padawan Solo, do you know how many Medals of Distinction have been given out?” Soo-chin asked. “More importantly how many have gone to people not of Coruscant? It is the highest award a civilian can earn on Coruscant.”

 

“That is all well and good but I have spent a day longer than I had to because of the blasted medal ceremony and now this.”

 

“Patience!” Soo-Chin chuckled. “If someone had told me five years ago that I would counsel someone else to be patient, I would have labeled them a fool!” She motioned. “Let us hurry, they should be arriving in a few moments.”

 

She led them through the back way of the Monastery so they didn’t disturb the students. Master Hobart joined them enroute. Except for the Kreekta, the tarmac was empty. Every ship that had gone on the assault had been either badly damaged or destroyed. Two of the Jedi dead had been in the Flitter class Glowfly when she rammed the bay doors. Soo-chin looked into the sky, then pointed. Eight ships in an echelon formation flew in, dropping to land before them. Behind them came a lumbering ship painted a brilliant white. Compared to the courier class ships that escorted it, this one was huge. A thirty man Naval command ship. The other eight were smaller, and sleeker. They were wide flat oblate wings with what looked like cannon in their leading edges.

 

The ramps dropped, and Navy personnel poured out. Breia looked as a familiar figure stepped down from the closest flying wing. “Yaka!”

 

He waved, walking over to stand beside her. “I was asked to pilot one of the new ships.”

 

“New-” The last man down the ramp of the command was the Chancellor. He strode over, bowing. “Masters. Dame Breia.” Breia groaned. She had forgotten that the medal she had been given was the equivalent of a Corellian Knighthood. She would forever be ‘Dame Briea Solo’ to the people of this planet.

 

The chancellor made a sweeping motion toward the ships. “All of your vessels were destroyed or so badly damaged that they need to be replaced. As the representative of my people, we ask you to accept this gift.

 

“The couriers Knight of Coruscant, Knight of Corellia, Knight of Ryloth, Knight of Ossus, Padawan Rees of Coruscant, Padawan Conor of Corellia, Padawan Marilo of Ossus.” He paused, The Command ship [/i]Master Hontu.[/i] “And,” Motioning toward the unnamed vessel, “And for your use until your ship is repaired, Dame Breia, Padawan Sani of Naboo. A gift from the People of Coruscant in recognition of your service to us.”

 

Soo-chin appeared to be speechless. “The order thanks the Coruscant for such a noble gift.”

 

“It pains us that we cannot do more.” Skywalker replied. “All we have done is replaced what you have lost, and created memorials for those who died for our people.”

 

“We will remember them always.” Soo-chin said humbly. “Your gift will make their names known throughout the galaxy. Again, our thanks.”

 

“We must be off. There is much to do.” The Chancellor bowed again, and led the Naval personnel with him.

 

“Master.” A Padawan ran up, bowing. “An urgent message for Master Gretu and Padawan Solo from Padawan Lang on Nar Shaddaa.”

 

They hurried into the communications room. A Padawan flipped a switch, and Lang appeared on the screen.

 

“This must immediately be transmitted to master Gretu and Padawan Solo. If they are not there, transmit it to whatever system they are in.

 

“The factory here has been closed. The personnel know nothing beyond the fact that members of an organization named the Hand had hired them two years ago. Positive identification of Zardan Landru as the man responsible for the gasses manufacture. Last known location, Ithor.

 

“The last load of gas was 70 million cubic meters. Loaded on ships belonging to the Brenoril corporation. The word is Fondorian for ‘ghost’. The two ships are named Feradi and Bondrant, Vengeance and Nemesis in the same language. One is bound for Sulisht. The other, for Fondor. I assume the one for Fondor the Feradi, will have already arrived.

 

Our computer estimates that 35 million is sufficient to poison an entire planet’s atmosphere.

 

“Enroute to Coruscant. Arrival 2115 hours tomorrow.” Every eye looked at the chronometer. He would be arriving in just a few hours.

 

“Message has also gone to Fondor. Master Sookor should be arriving there

any time. Hutt say that the Sulishti do not, I repeat do not use Bidraxidine. There must be a reason Landru used it as the carrier molecule, but we have not yet ascertained why.

 

“Message ends.”

 

“We have much to do, and must hurry.” Soo-chin snapped. “Master Sanji-” She was interrupted by a signal.

 

“Message torpedo from Ithor. From the Ithorian council aboard Cloud-Home.

 

The screen flashed on. An Ithorian looked out. Behind him was the first of the floating cities created two decades before by the Tokara Company.

 

“Administrator Lukati of Ithor reporting. We have received a message from Padawan Lang of your order asking for information on a human named Zardan Landru. He took possession of 5,000 breeding pairs of a hybrid song bird of his home planet of Fondor six weeks ago which had been genetically modified at his request. The request for modification had been filed four years, seven months ago. Specifications on modifications are with this message. Message ends.”

 

“He ordered songbirds? Soo-chin asked incredulous.

 

“Find the modifications subtext.” The Padawan flipped through the message archive. The male bird was a brilliantly plumed animal that weighed perhaps fifty grams if the scale was right. While everyone else looked on the communicator flipped through the pages of specification.

 

“Made them less shy than normal, adjusted their nesting habits and diet. They now feed on something called-” He leaned forward. “-A Sulishti plant called Kusberi. They used to nest in trees in the forests, but will now favor buildings and constructs.” His brow wrinkled. “Odd, the vocal index of the birds has also been altered. Their standard song had been altered.” He flipped a switch.

 

From the speakers echoed a song they all knew too well.

 

Breia’s com link bleeped. “What!”

 

“Padawan, I don’t know if it is important-”

 

“If it isn’t A4 I am going to rip out your brain and replace it with a toaster!” She roared.

 

“It has come to my attention that the Sulishti do not use Bidraxidine because it makes them ill-”

 

“We know that!”

 

“-It also would be assimilated by their native wildlife and plants.”

 

“What?” She whispered. Every eye was on her.

 

“One plant which is a staple in their diet called Kusberi would absorb it and reproduce the gas as part of it‘s flowering cycle.”

 

“Gods.” Someone whispered. Breia agreed silently.

 

“There are only two planets where Kusberi grows. That is their home world of Sulisht, and the planet Fondor.”

 

“Oh my gods. What has he done?” Master Hobart asked.

 

“He’s made sure that the Sulishti will die out.” Yaka said. “And even if some do survive, that they can never live on Fondor or Sulisht, ever.”

 

“Padawan-”

 

“Get aboard Padawan Sani of Naboo. Now!”

 

“Am I going to make toast for the voyage?”

 

“You might yet.”

*****

 

The trip was quiet. Usually a person that joked with everyone, Breia was a stolid lump this trip. Amberdon handled the cooking, kept watch when the automated sensors didn’t do it for him, and brooded along with her. The ship hummed softly to itself, the single A1 droid puttering around as it tuned the systems as they flew.

 

He went forward, checking the instruments. He took the controls. “Master we will arrive any moment.” She didn’t respond. He watched as the stars appeared. In orbit were hundreds of orbital docks. Thanks to the systems position near a great many resources, a dozen or more companies had built their own drydocks in orbit. Something like a third of the ships of the Galaxy were being built right here.

 

“Contact the Fondorians. I must speak with Landru immediately". Breia walked forward, sitting in the second chair.

 

A few moments later, the screen cleared. He had aged dramatically in the last years, worn down as if by a fierce desert wind. Landru looked from the screen at them, then bowed his head. “Master Sookor. I have been expecting you.” He looked down, touching a control. “My family station is at these coordinates. Please, join me.” The signal ended.

 

Amberdon noted the location, and adjusted his course. The station was small, a personal residence rather than a business. The lights on the landing bay flashed, and the ship closed in on that location.

 

The doors swing open, and Millennium Falcon nestled down onto the deck. Amberdon stared at the wonder before him. The bay was a work of art.

 

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Breia said, standing “Standby to get us out of here fast.” She turned walking toward ramp. As it came down she winced, grabbing her ears, then collapsing. Up in the cockpit, Amberdon had already been disabled.

 

The door opened, and a droid rolled in. It wrapped up the unconscious woman, then did the same for the man. Both were picked up and carried out.

*****

 

Kreekta lifted off, moving into orbit. Behind her came Padawan Sani of Naboo. Three other couriers lifted, Knight of Corellia, Knight of Ossus, and Padawan Rees of Coruscant. They stayed in a tight formation, awaiting-

 

Honor Blade dropped out less than 400 kilometers away. “Padawan Lang this is Master Soo-chin. Do not, I repeat, do not land on Coruscant. Join up with Jedi Formation. Prepare for instructions.”

 

As the ship approached, three of the Coruscanti couriers led by Padawan Sani of Naboo spun, heading for their destination. Knight of Corellia, Kreekta, and Honor Blade formed up, then turned onto their departure vector.

[Jae Onasi]

Not all of them will die well. Two will be rather badly and worse, will fail. One will die off screen and you may never know why. One will die nobly, the other because of a personal choice.

 

I am more sorry than you are. As the author, I am letting the story have it's head, and when they die it will be when there time has come. Trust me on that.

Heh, it doesn't _have_ to be written that way, but I know what you mean. Sometimes you just get dragged along in that direction.

 

 

 

What happened there was pretty much what happened in Russia after the KAL 007 fiasco. The three senior men in Stranya PVO, the Eartern Air Defense Network were fired by Gorby. Removing four officers and the equivilant of the Secretary of the Navy is only a modest shake up in a disaster of this proportion.

 

Well, Russia wasn't exactly the bastion of democracy, so he could get away with that, I suppose. Here in the US we'd all be freaking out if something like that happened. Well, those of us who follow politics regularly, anyway.

 

Hmm, I either misunderstood/misread the ranks of the officers when they first appear in the infamous meeting, or I had forgotten their ranks by the time the Chancellor gets to them (you had all this great action in between, you know) and just made the assumption all of them were like Joint Chiefs level officers. I'd have to re-read to figure out which one it was, though I suspect the latter. I like the little political twist at the end with the Chancellor offering himself up for discipline.

[machievelli]

Heh, it doesn't _have_ to be written that way, but I know what you mean. Sometimes you just get dragged along in that direction.

 

When I write, especially something that has flowed as smoothly as this one, I get dragged along by the story.

 

 

Well, Russia wasn't exactly the bastion of democracy, so he could get away with that, I suppose. Here in the US we'd all be freaking out if something like that happened. Well, those of us who follow politics regularly, anyway.

 

It happened here after 911, though we didn't notice it. It also happened at Abu Ghraib. On 911 the commander of NORAD was replaced, along with two other officers. At Abu Ghraib the Commandant of the Prison and her two subordinates were sent into military exile. The Brigadier was demoted to Colonel.

 

Hmm, I either misunderstood/misread the ranks of the officers when they first appear in the infamous meeting, or I had forgotten their ranks by the time the Chancellor gets to them (you had all this great action in between, you know) and just made the assumption all of them were like Joint Chiefs level officers. I'd have to re-read to figure out which one it was, though I suspect the latter. I like the little political twist at the end with the Chancellor offering himself up for discipline.

 

The ranks were as follows, as if they were American officers;

 

CNO: 5 stars, Commander Home Fleet: 3 stars, Chief of Procurement; 3 stars, Commander Planetary Defenses; 2 stars. Since there are over 300 officers in the US Navy of those ranks, this is not really that major. What would be is the fact that I am willing to bet (After all I wrote it) That all of the officers with the exception of the CNO were appointed by the CNO. That officer was appointed by the First Space Lord.

 

I am using a modified form of the British Navy where this actually happens all the time.

 

As for the chancellor, I have to agree with Master Hobart. It makes him look like a man willing to take his punishment as at the same time he blames that opposition party.

[Jae Onasi]

Now this could be because I was reading this last week while having some rather nasty insomnia worrying about my cat (who is better), and reading the forum at 1 am is not conducive to remembering things clearly.

So please forgive a totally stupid question--what is the role of the First Space Lord and how does he fit into everything?

[machievelli]

The First Sea Lord in the British Government, or First space Lord in this situation, is as I said, the equivilant of the Secretary of the Navy in the US,

 

However the Secretary of the Navy cannot do what the First Sea Lord can, which is replace the men at the top with their own handpicked replacements. Every time the government shifts in Britain, the new FSL can remove any of the commanders of such departments as Buships, Buweps, Personnel, procurement, Operations (Their Equivalent to CNO) or Intelligence. When it is done very badly, a lot of problems can occur. If you have not read the Honor Harrington Series by David Weber, I would suggest reading War of Honor where the inner workings of a very badly run Navy can be seen in glaring detail.

[Jae Onasi]

Did I mention I've never studied British naval history?

OK, I know about Nelson, but only because of a class on Fr. Revolution/Napoleon.

[Char Ell]

Just when I thought I was getting a handle on the plot...

 

I thoroughly enjoy the plot twists in this story. I'm just not sure I know the background between Landru and the Sulishti. I think I need to go back and read some stuff over again because I seem to remember some mention made of it. Whatever Landru's issue with the Sulishti is has got to be pretty serious, since he has engineered a plan to wipe out their entire race.

[machievelli]

If you don't get it, don't worry. There's a lot of exposition between Landru and Breia coming right up.

[machievelli]

Too late

 

Again it came down to simple geometry. A ship on a direct course from Nar Shaddaa had to travel a greater distance, but the Jedi ships left an hour and a half too late.

 

*****

The trio of Jedi ships dropped out of Hyper space less than 400 kilometers from the Bondrant.

 

“Sulisht control, this is Jedi courier Knight of Corellia, Master Soo-chin commanding. The ship approaching your planet has a lethal chemical aboard. It must be stopped immediately.

 

Jedi ships. You are not welcome. Depart or die.“

 

“Sulisht control, destruction of that ship is imperative. We are approaching to destroy it at this time.”

 

As The couriers charged after it every communications channel was broken by a transmission in Sulishti;

 

Warning. Attacked by Human vessels

 

Protect, protect.

 

The attack was masterfully planned. Bondrant was unmanned. Better that a system fail than someone suddenly in fear of their life abort it. After all, this was only a secondary attack. It it failed, the other would succeed.

 

Landru had studied his enemy well. Being insects, their primitive forebears had used several different chemical signals, that predated language, and their communications systems aboard their ships still did. These signals as with the human brain reach past the conscious mind, setting off alarms that are reacted to not consciously, but with a biological imperative far beyond reason. A signal of this sort will hurl a mass of stinging death against a bear or insects ten times their size. Launch an attack that ends when the enemy is dead or every defender is. Will cause them to even throw themselves against a fire or flood trying to bury it under their own bodies.

 

In reaction to that imperative the Sulishti warships in orbit turned, moving outward to protect their executioner.

 

“Sulishti control this is-” Master Soo-chin began.

 

“Depart.”

 

“We have to-”

 

“Depart or die.”

 

“All ships. We have to blow it up before it reaches Sulisht.” She ordered.

 

“What about the Sulishti?” Lang asked.

 

“Avoid them if possible, but that cargo ship must be destroyed!”

 

The three Jedi vessels spilt up, charging for their target.

 

The Sulishti were confused. The signal was in their language, the wording exact and correct, but somehow wrong coming from a ship they had never designed. But the language was imperative, and a score of fighters led the fleet into the attack.

 

Honor Blade dived right, rolling, her guns ripping into a fighter, then lunged past it. Other fighters barred Lang’s way, and he grimly settled down to merely defending himself. Knight of Corellia, broke to the left, trying the same, but was quickly cut off and Master Soo-chin found herself also unable to do anything but defend herself.

 

Sanji was in the center. His ship dove in, blasting a pair of fighters to scrap, then was on the tail of the freighter. Her guns blasted, but Bondrant had been modified with all of this in mind. The heavy armor on her stern shrugged off the hammer blows of his guns. Rafe Morale dodged a lunging attack by a trio of Sulishti fighters. “We need to use missiles!” He shouted.

 

Sanji nodded, turning to the second panel, flicking on the switches arming the three missiles Kreekta carried. The ship suddenly slammed to the right, and air shrieked through a gap in the transparisteel cockpit.

 

Sanji reacted. He slipped his air mask on, still setting the panel. A red light flashed. The burst had shredded the missile bay.

 

“Rafe get us out of here!” He spun. Rafe would never smile at him again. A shell had blown his head open. He remembered Yodai back on Coruscant when he had gone to the Admiralty.

 

Master no sense it makes that I must not go.

 

Padawan, your time has not yet come. Stay here you will. You will be a Padawan Teacher on the dawn, as you deserve

 

Place beside you I belong.

 

Trust in the Force. You are needed here. Where I go you won’t follow yet.

 

Sanji closed his eyes, then opened them, flipping the switches that transferred control from left seat to right. He turned whipping into a spin, Rafe’s hands following his, still locked on the controls by his death. Sure my young friend. Help me. I couldn’t do this without you.

 

He raised the nose, running down the side of the massive ship, then turned, boring toward the dead center of mass. If he hit it just right-

 

An instant before impact a shell from a heavy projector smashed the nose of Kreekta. Sanji was killed instantly. He never knew that he had not only failed, but done so catastrophically.

 

Kreekta had been blown into a sharp turn, aiming not at the side of the massive freighter or at the bow, which might have helped. Instead she rammed the portside stern of Bondrant, exploding. Engines disabled, the ship continued her plunge, actually pushed into a much better angle by that helpful tap. The ship whipped around the atmosphere at less than 25 kilometers altitude station keeping thrusters holding off her immolation, gas streaming from her holds as the dive shallowed out. Then it lurched, the station keeping thrusters had exhausted their fuel, the ship dipping to finally head for the surface. The gas had been evenly distributed throughout the atmosphere, sliding downward as the heavier molecules were attracted by gravity. As she began this final dive a series of small charges pushed small packets out that deployed ablative shields. Her nose glowed, and the ship fell, coming apart as it punched down through the atmosphere, then impacted into one of the giant nests of the Sulishti.

 

As if planned, every Sulisht ship stopped firing, every bow turned toward the plant so far away. Soo-chin felt a wave of something through the force, but it wasn’t death,

 

A shuttle was taking off below, but as it started to leave the atmosphere it suddenly plunged back as if afraid.

 

“Human ships, human ships. This is Admiral WWelldori. We have reports of widespread madness on the planet. People boarding shuttles are reporting intense fear and pain as they approach their ships. Explain.” As the signal was sent, the Sulishti fighters withdrew toward their fleet.

 

Soo-chin stared aghast. The com channels from the planet were inundated. More shuttles, even a warship started to lift, then suddenly settle back down on the planet.

 

“Admiral, a madman attacked several locations, several planets and peoples. He released a gas which drive people mad and they murder anyone around them.”

 

“We know of this. Our station in orbit was destroyed because of it.”

 

“The gas affects were discovered to be permanent in your species. We came to stop that weapon from being deployed.”

 

“Yet there are no reports of such a killing madness. Instead our people return to their nests and cower. The ships that were supposed to lift and repel you have refused to fly. Instead they cower unable to even leave their vessels.”

 

Soo-chin shook her head. “He has modified it again, somehow. Perhaps this madness is related to the chemical.”

 

“Perhaps. But if it has caused our people to become as they seem to be becoming, we can never travel in space again.”

 

“No Admiral.” She snapped. “You and your crews still can. If your race is to survive, you must not go home. If you and your crews value the lives of their race. Wish to protect them still, do not attempt to land of Sulisht.” She considered. “Anision is still available. You can start a new society there.”

 

“Too far. We must build a new station. One free of this contagion.” There was a long pause. “One that our own people below can never visit for fear of this madness spreading.”

 

“We will bring your case before the Galactic Trade Authority. Once we have discovered a way to cleanse what must come to you from below, we can begin shipping it in sealed and depressurized lighters.”

 

“We have no choice.” The Admiral finally answered. “To protect our people, we can never go home. Guide us in this Master Jedi.”

*****

 

The talks went on for several days.

 

Soo-chin stared at the planet. From below the com lines were still open, but all were filled with the fear these people now had. Even flights from place to place on the surface had ceased. WWelldori had acted as the mediator between the planet and the Jedi, and while long and convoluted, for once the Sulishti and the Humans above were working to the same point rather than at cross purposes.

 

Message torpedoes had gone out, and ships began popping out on the last day of the meeting. Coruscanti cargo vessels loaded with formed metals to begin construction, tools for working it, and several manufactories designed just for the Sulishti to operate. It would take the better part of a year, but one of the first ships reported that a Czerka Corporation was sending a full scale repair dock to arrive within the month so that the Sulishti fleet in orbit could be maintained.

 

“How long do you think this will last?” She asked.

 

Padawan Losian her student shrugged. “The natives or the contagion?”

 

“The affects on races other than the Sulishti?”

 

“Maybe forever. Until we have a measure of how this chemical was manufactured and how it degrades, it’s too soon to tell.”

 

“Record it. Record it all.” She sighed. “Honor Blade, this is Knight of Corellia. Deploy the warning buoys.” Both ships turned, and they seeded the space with glittering gems. As each fell from the ship, it activated.

 

Warning, Planet Sulishti has been affected by a chemical weapon lethal several species. Do not land under any circumstances. This agent is deadly, and will remain deadly for an estimated minimum of 20,000 years. All communication with the planet is via Station Omega 1 in orbit. This is your only warning. A few moments later, it repeated, each buoy covering a different band, in every known language.

 

Finally Knight of Corellia broke the silence “Come on, Lang. There’s nothing we can do.”

 

The two ships turned, headed away.

[Char Ell]

Hey! You had a double-post of Too Late. Did you know that you can delete a post if you want through a "delete message" option in the edit post feature.

 

I felt the honor of Sanji's death, even though his decision to sacrifice his life to prevent the cargo vessel from reaching the planet was rendered useless. In my view his decision to turn kamikaze was the only choice he had left if he still wanted to save the planet. As so often happens during the course of battle he became a victim of circumstance and his effort rendered useless. That doesn't mean that his sacrifice shouldn't be remembered and honored.

 

I thought the planet went all crazy rather too quickly. I grant you that you've stated in a previous chapter that the freighter had enough gas to poison an entire planet's atmosphere but would the gas have dissipated throughout Sulisht's atmosphere that quickly? I definitely can see how the hive the freighter crashed into was affected as well as the surrounding 100 kilometers or so but I don't understand how the entire planet would have been affected that fast.

[machievelli]

Did I mention I've never studied British naval history?

OK, I know about Nelson, but only because of a class on Fr. Revolution/Napoleon.

 

Not to worry. I studied it for you.

 

Question, I'm trying to remember the name for a reaction when a chemical such as caffeine in an adult, which causes them to be hyped up, causes a young child to go to sleep or relax instead?

[Jae Onasi]

Not to worry. I studied it for you.

 

Question, I'm trying to remember the name for a reaction when a chemical such as caffeine in an adult, which causes them to be hyped up, causes a young child to go to sleep or relax instead?

 

Paradoxical effect. (you'd think it'd sound more Latin/Greek than that. For once someone called a med term by what it actually does.)

Usually refers to the stimulants used to treat ADD/ADHD.

[machievelli]

I have edited the last chapter so that I have removed the 'miraculous' destruction. The next chapter follows. Two more to go before Part one of the 2nd book is complete.

[Jae Onasi]

Speaking of stickies (I know we weren't but I was thinking about it) I may post a thread on 'Resources' and if stingerhs wants to sticky it, then he can. I also thought that since a million of us ask you how to get a review, but don't read the entire critic's corner right off to get the info, you might want a separate 'So you want to get reviewed' thread, which would include info on how to submit and the recommendation to spellcheck/edit/etc. You know, the things you repeat for all of us.

 

You'd think I'd be more interested in naval history with my dad being a Navy man, but it just doesn't float my boat.

[machievelli]

Speaking of stickies (I know we weren't but I was thinking about it) I may post a thread on 'Resources' and if stingerhs wants to sticky it, then he can. I also thought that since a million of us ask you how to get a review, but don't read the entire critic's corner right off to get the info, you might want a separate 'So you want to get reviewed' thread, which would include info on how to submit and the recommendation to spellcheck/edit/etc. You know, the things you repeat for all of us.

 

I'd love it. Now if only I could get paid. To tell you all the truth I haven't had this much fun in ages. Reviewing, editing, critiquing is fun because I can act as a teacher, somthing I would never get hired to do.

 

You'd think I'd be more interested in naval history with my dad being a Navy man, but it just doesn't float my boat.

 

 

Kid, I fell in love with military history when I watched an old movie called the 300 Spartans. I started studying anything and everything related to it. I can give you reasons for why a war began (Except for the Iraq mess, which makes absolutely no sense at the start) which go beyond the history books, and lay out how weapons changed warfare. I served in the Coast Guard, and my special love was Naval warfare for about fifteen years.

[Jae Onasi]

I'd love it. Now if only I could get paid. To tell you all the truth I haven't had this much fun in ages. Reviewing, editing, critiquing is fun because I can act as a teacher, somthing I would never get hired to do.

 

One of the reasons I didn't finish the history PhD--there's no jobs. That, and while studying history of medicine, I missed actually being in the med field.

 

Kid, I fell in love with military history when I watched an old movie called the 300 Spartans. I started studying anything and everything related to it. I can give you reasons for why a war began (Except for the Iraq mess, which makes absolutely no sense at the start) which go beyond the history books, and lay out how weapons changed warfare. I served in the Coast Guard, and my special love was Naval warfare for about fifteen years.

 

You are just too kind with 'kid'....I've celebrated multiple anniversaries of my 29th b-day.

Iraq--I don't think we'll get too far on that til some documents get declassified. Watching Villepin and Powell debate in the UN prior to the war was fascinating.

The scuttlebutt among folks in the military (which I take with as much salt as I do any other gossip) is that they thought they were seeing WMDs moving, worried about Saddam doing something idiotic (esp to Israel, since he'd tossed some Scuds over there in the other war), and thought that Saddam was financing some of the terrorist cells. They also think the WMDs were transported just over the border in Syria and we don't want to go in and stir things up there. My thought is if they had enough nerve gas to take out an entire Kurdish village, they likely had at least chem weapons around somewhere. The fact that Saddam was thumbing his nose at the UN resolutions didn't help.

[machievelli]

Captive

 

Breia shook her head. She knew what had hit her. A sonic stunner circuit connected directly to the very internal communications system. It felt like someone had played a rather nasty game of Parpan with her head.

 

Her eyes opened. She was slung against a wall, tightly wrapped in plastic as if a spider had hung her for a meal. At a small table a few meters away, Landru sat, staring out the clearsteel at the panorama of Fondor. She sensed to her left and right. She was the only one on the wall. What of Amberdon?

 

“I am sorry. Your Padawan died.” Came a soft voice from the table. Landru sipped the bitter wine he had chosen for this moment. He looked up at his teacher. “There are some more susceptible to a sonic blast. I had not considered it.”

 

"What does one more death matter?" She asked.

 

He shrugged. "I had no animosity toward such a noble man. You have always chosen the noble kind of people for Padawan I have seen."

 

“Had you considered how many hundred of thousands would die when you created that hell weapon?”

 

“Yes I did.” He stood. “I am building a new world, a world without sin, where no devil with six legs can ever dwell ever again.”

 

“So a quarter million people had to die so you can live in this new world?”

 

“So I could create it.” He turned, walking toward the panels. He reach out, touching them as if he could hold the planet in his hand. “I don’t plan on living there, and they would not let me if tried. Don’t you see I know what I have become. I have not only cast aside everything you taught me, I used it to help me. I have become a monster that has only one reason to live, and once that reason is gone, I will leave the stage to those who deserve it without taking a bow. My name will be cursed for centuries, and no one will remember quite why I have done what I have.

 

“Remember the old legend of the Wanderers? Cast into space for two generations, led by a man that knew where they were bound, but unable to tell them where? If you remember he reached that new world, but died before he could set foot on it. Remembered now only for the voyage.” He pointed. “There, the red spot? That is my home town. Where I was born. Where my family lived until the consortium chose our planet for their vision of a better Galaxy.” She could sense the anguish he felt. “That red is Kusberi. It grows rapidly and is incredibly invasive. The Sulishti scattered spores of it throughout the northern hemisphere. They have been carried by the winds throughout the planet. There are little sprigs of the filth everywhere.

 

“None of my family survived that. Kusberi has a secondary effect that the Sulishti didn’t bother to mention. It is an allergen of exceptional strength. The pollen causes severe reactions in some people specifically humans.

 

“No one bothered to discover this until it was too late. Not the Sulishti, not the Companies that belong to the other races, not the governments.

 

“Oh the Conglomerate developed a medication eventually, when they had problems with their own people. But it isn’t for us. Unless a Fondorian works for the Conglomerate, they aren’t allowed to have it. Instead they offered compensation and relocation.

 

“Compensation! My family is extremely susceptible. My father died choking on his own vomit because the Conglomerate couldn‘t be bothered! When I heard I tried to go home, but the Conglomerate requires tests now for anyone coming to my home world. I was more susceptible if that is possible. I stood here!“ He pointed at the deck at his feet. “Here while watching my father’s pyre. My sister’s, my mother’s both of my younger brother’s. Unable to even touch that beloved flesh when they died. I can never go home because doing so will kill me as surely as it killed my family. A lot of my people have already died.

 

“Then I had to consider who is worse? The animals that needed a special diet, or the ones that strip mined mountains into pits for materials? That have let a quarter million people die rather than supply a vaccine because it will cut into their profits? It will take ten millennia or more before the planet can heal what they have caused if they stopped today. Ten thousand years of anguish for my people which can’t even start until the occupation ends.

 

“The Trade Authority-”

 

“The Trade Authority has only one rule. Trade must continue. No planet has the right to gainsay them in that holy quest.” Landru turned back. He motioned, and a droid moved forward. “Lower her and bring her, please.”

 

The droid, a version of the L7 Police units of Corellia slid her down off the wall, carrying her upright to be held before Landru.

 

“Don’t you think I tried, that We-” he waved back toward the planet, “didn’t try? Every time we found a sympathetic judge, we were forestalled. On Corellia, on Coruscant, on Ryloth, even on Nal Hutta, our injunctions would be filed, and on each planet other judges on higher courts struck them down.

 

“We tried one last time. I asked the Order for arbitration in the name of our people. What did we get?” He snarled. “Your precious council on Coruscant would only ‘study the problem’. They would ‘advise’ that there be a moratorium to discover if Kusberi could be rendered less dangerous to humans. They would try to convince the Conglomerate to suspend mining.”

 

“Zardan, the order does not have the authority to force governments to change. To force companies to do things a better way. That is what governments are for.

 

“And every government I mentioned except the Sulishti are controlled by the companies they would try to rein in. Eventually they would finally do so. What are a few hundreds of thousand of additional lives in that mix?” He motioned. “My people are still sick, they are still dying. If you were born on Fondor, living there is a death sentence issued at birth, thanks to the Sulishti.

 

“The Sulishti were the worst. To them all other races are either impediments, or background noise. They only speak to us when they want to. I went myself after I left the order. No hive officials would recognize my need, my pleas. I was detritus in the road to them.

 

“This is an excuse for killing-”

 

“Half a million of our people died while that went on!” He screamed. “Half a million people that did no harm to anyone. That weren’t important because they weren’t stockholders, didn’t vote on boards, didn’t live on Coruscant or one of the other worlds that decided to use our home as a factory and garbage dump.” He calmed, “I am merely returning that favor.”

 

He turned back to the screen. “Down there, fifty kilometers from my home, I have decided to put and end to it. When I am through the Galaxy will have to give us that ten thousand years.”

 

“So now you execute your own people?” She asked softly. “How does that balance the scales?”

 

“Kill them?” He laughed gently. “No my dear teacher. I am going to save them.”

 

*****

 

The Jedi in the second flight were rocked by the deaths of almost an entire race. The worst of it was there was no way to communicate between them. Traveling in hyper space was not unlike digging a hole, getting in it and filling it back in. Nothing went into that abyss that did not go in with you.

 

Yaka was affected worse than Breia was. She had felt death before, close enough because she had been dealing it. But the gentle Ithorian had never felt violent death beyond what was natural on his world, and that which happened by misadventure in a city. This was a weight that bore him down on his knees weeping. Breia was a little better off, but she held him as he cried not only for a race, but for those who had had done it, led by one of their order.

 

Aboard Padawan Rees of Coruscant. Newly appointed Padawan teacher Yodai locked himself in his room, weeping silently, rocking as he did. I failed you master he thought. [/i]I was not there to help you, protect you, and if failing die with you. How did you know?[/i]

 

Board Knight of Coruscant, Master Hobart wept for the Sulishti, for a student he had known for three decades, and in his heart for Breia Sookor. Even now he knew she could feel Sanji’s death. How much more pain could she take?

 

*****

 

Breia had decided that she had quite enough of hanging like a trophy on Landru’s wall. She felt around her clothes, and came to an alarming discovery. Landru had removed every bit of metal and plastic from her clothing while she was unconscious. For decades she had used her blindness ruthlessly when dealing with enemies. No one considered a blind woman as a real danger, and a blind old woman was even less so. She had always secreted blades and Cnifta darts through her clothes sowing them like crops she would need in the future, and had never been failed by them. Not this time.

 

She had never considered that anyone who was an enemy would ever know her this well.

 

Landru came into the room, looking out of the window again with a hungry look “I just received the message torpedo from the Monastery meant for you. My plan has worked beyond my wildest expectations. I had assumed the Monastery would send ships to stop the ship from crashing on Sulisht. I never imagined I had judged the Sulishti so poorly. They not only stopped the Jedi, allowing my plan to work, but when they discovered that it allowed their own people to be eliminated, they went home” He shook his head in wonder. “They went home and died with them.”

 

“This pleases you?” She snapped. “You have committed genocide and you’re pleased?”

 

“No.” His eyes grew sad. “That my people will no longer suffer because of them pleases me. That instead of living more years trying to hunt the last of them down I can end it pleases me. All the pleasure I gained was that my plan had worked. You taught me to enjoy a perfect plan clicking from beginning to flawless fruition. The few remnants of the species will die out, and good riddance.” He looked through the window again. Beyond it, Feradi awaited his signal. He punched in the codes, and the ship drove toward the planet below. “One more piece needs to be in position, and my task is done.” He turned. “I cannot allow you to stop me, but I do not want your death on my conscience, Master. I must wait for the rescue that will come. Only then will it all come together as it must.”

 

“You must stop. Millions will die.” Breia pleaded. “Think of the children!”

 

He maneuvered the distant robot vessel with finicky care, placing Feradi in orbit above his home at less than fifty miles altitude. Once it was there, held only by orbital mechanics, he leaned back, turning to face her.

 

“No. I have made an estimate. 62,500 more will die. None of them Fondorian.” He smiled sadly. “My last legacy. My last slap in the face at those who wish to treat my home as a garbage pit. My death will follow within hours.” He turned. “For my family, for my people. For my beloved dead. It ends here today.”

[machievelli]

Cordon Sanitaire

 

Like avenging angels three couriers dropped out of hyperspace. Ahead of them approximately 14000 kilometers away was the bulk of the docks in orbits.

 

“Master, there is a ship registering as the Feradi in very low orbit of the planet.” Padawan Mooroli reported, the Lekku of his head weaving gently.

 

“Any sign of Millennium Falcon?”

 

“Yes sir.” He keyed a button, flashing a holo up. “The Falcon is in the boat bay of this small station in orbit approximately 50 kilometers higher.” He flinched. “Feradi is in motion. Dropping downward. The station is deorbiting. It will hit atmosphere in ten minutes.”

 

“Stop it I will, Master Hobart.”

 

“Do that, Yodai.” Hobart considered. There were too few of them. The people in shuttles headed for the planet had to be warned, as did the massive stations in orbit as well. But Breia was also in danger...

 

“Padawan Solo, go to Master Sookor’s rescue. I will go to the command station and quarantine everyone who has come up from the planet. We don’t have a lot of time.”

 

“On it.” Padawan Sani of Naboo swept down into a tight turn. “Padawan Reiger, you have to play shepherd. Do not let any more shuttles approach the planet. If they refuse to stop, fire a warning burst. If they still fail, fire to disable.” Without a word Knight of Ossus turned onto it’s new course.

 

“For all, may the Force be with us.” Knight of Coruscant turned toward the stations ahead, radio waves already reaching out.

 

*****

“Sir, these shuttles are scheduled up to 48 hours in advance. We cannot just cut the planet off-”

 

“Almost a half million people are already dead and you’re saying you can’t stop shuttles because it will interfere with your schedule? There are over sixty thousand of your own workers on the planet, along with three and a half million Fondorians and your precious schedule is more important?” Hobart asked coolly.

 

“Well I-”

 

Hobart continued ruthlessly. “Since this conversation is being recorded I ask you again; Which is more important, your precious schedule or more lives!”

 

The man swallowed, and his voice was quavering. He hit a button and an alarm klaxon sounded. “All stations, cease launching and recovering planet bound shuttles. I repeat., all stations, cease launching and recovering planet bound shuttles. All stations go to defensive fire plan Beta. All defensive systems on active.

 

“All shuttles approaching planet Fondor. Do not enter atmosphere, I repeat, all shuttles approaching planet Fondor. Do not enter atmosphere.

 

“All shuttles on approach from planet Fondor, go to area grid Zed Alpha Niner, hold until called for. Any and I repeat any attempt to dock before you have been cleared will cause your destruction. Defensive systems on all station are now active.” He switched off. “Satisfied?”

 

“Not until this menace is taken care of.

 

*****

 

Padawan Rees of Coruscant dived howling into the upper atmosphere. Below it, barely traveling mach 7, was Feradi. “All weapons active.” Yodai ordered. He turned to his console. The ship had made three circuits of the planet before he had closed the range, and the gas that was venting stopped. A series of smaller canisters had been spraying outward on this orbit instead of gas, but Yodai wasn‘t taking any chances. The Proton torpedo dropped, slamming forward at almost a tenth of light speed. The launch and the explosion that shredded the ship into flinders happened almost simultaneously.

 

“What about the canisters?” Padawan Samsun asked.

 

“Too small to target they are. Hope we must that people not there when they land.”

 

The canisters spun madly on their descent, steadying to drop almost straight down as they cleared a kilometer’s height. At a quarter kilometer, very small charges peeled them open like ripe fruit, dispensing flocks of bird into the air. On the night side they settled down, going to sleep automatically. But on the day side, the air was filled with deadly song.

 

*****

“Shuttle Alpha two niner, this is Jedi courier Knight of Ossus. You will immediately come right to two zero niner and proceed to area Zed Alpha Niner as instructed.”

 

“Knight of Ossus. we are closer to Fondor ground one. Will proceed-”

 

Padawan Reiger keyed the guns. He had purposely offset by seven degrees, a distance of just 200 meters in front of the plunging shuttle’s bow. The tracers shot past like bolts of livid fire. The shuttle leaped upward like a fly attempting to escape.

 

“Mayday, mayday! This is shuttle Alpha two niner! We are under attack!

 

“Shuttle Alpha two niner, that was your only warning shot. I am dialing the weapons to center of vehicle mass.” Reiger, a tall man with long ash blonde hair and cold eyes leaned into his microphone. “You have five second to comply.” He then began counting calmly.

 

At four the shuttle lifted back toward orbit.

 

“Shuttle Alpha two niner, I will warn you that if you attempt to head anywhere except Area Zed Alpha Niner, we do carry four missiles. You will get a first hand look at what they can do out to three light seconds distance.”

 

Sullenly the shuttle did exactly what it had been told to do.

 

“Master Reiger. I though the range of our missiles was only two point five light seconds.”

 

“Really? You mean I lied to that man?” His look was so innocent that Padawan Diera Coori laughed.

 

*****

“Look, Master, they approach as I anticipated.” Landru opened the boat bay, dispassionately watching Millennium Falcon flip end for end as the air blew it away from the station.

 

“I do hope someone saves the ship.” He commented. “We spent a lot of years aboard that ship.”

 

“Yes. “ Breia sighed. “Enough to know that you have gone insane my apprentice.”

 

“Apprentice.” He sighed, looking back at her with love in his eyes. “You may not know it, but you saying that word takes me so far back.”

 

“Back before murder was an option.”

 

“After I am dead, and you see what I have done, at least someone will understand.” He turned away, all business again. “Only one ship. A maximum of four Monks. I will deal with them, bundle you onto the ship, and send it off. Goodbye, Master.” He slipped a pair of earplugs into his ears into his ears, and touched the key for the sonic projector.

 

*****

As Padawan Sani of Naboo settled on the deck, Yaka found himself humming. An atonal wail from all four throats simultaneously. He almost stopped, but it suddenly struck him.

 

There was a predator on his home world called a Shrieker. It attacked by first stunning it’s prey with a supersonic wail, then stung the victim to death and fed on the body. His people had developed the same atonal wail to protect themselves and when struck by such an attack, the instinctively gave out this humming sound. Beside him Breia Solo gave a shriek of pain, holding her ears in agony. He stood, still wailing, and ran to the cargo bay. He found a set of ear protectors, sliding them on the woman as the tone died.

 

“What is happening?” A4’s eyes turned toward him.

 

“Sonic weapon. The Master is unconscious.” He turned. The droid had followed him. Can you pilot this ship?”

 

“That is very simple. I can-”

 

“This station will fall out of atmosphere in less than a minute. If I am not back you must get the ship away.”

 

“But you don’t have time-” The droid was talking to empty space.

 

*****

 

Yaka passed the droid carrying the unconscious Master Sookor. He could not have explained to a layman where he was going. Another Jedi would have understood that little tilt of sound or light that guided him.

 

The room was deep and open. A man stood at the transparisteel windows, watching as they edges of metal began to begin to glow. He looked up, taking in the Ithorian with a calm glance. “If you don’t leave immediately, you will die.”

 

“I am taking you with me, Landru. The dead demand it.”

 

“I don’t care what they demand, my young friend. I am going home.”

 

“If I must force you, you will come.” Yaka drew his sword, then gently lay it on the deck. Then he lumbered forward.

 

*****

 

“What is happening?” Breia Sookor snapped awake with yet another headache. There was a rather ugly droid standing over her.

 

“I was ordered to move this ship away and into space when one minute had elapsed.”

 

She stood. She was unsteady, but she had been freed. She walked over to the command seat where her young namesake lay still stunned taking her sword. “Then I suggest you obey that order.”

 

“But Master Sookor-”

 

“I have to try to save an old friend.” She dived out of the ship, running. A4 watched her go. 29 seconds and counting...

 

*****

 

Breia flew down the corridors, running against time. Even as she knew she was too late.

 

The room was as it had been when she had first awakened there. Only one thing was different, the crumpled body of a young Ithorian lay curiously relaxed on the floor. She turned. Landru stood at the window. “Another life.” She snapped.

 

He turned, tears running down his cheeks. The gun he had used to kill the young Jedi dropped from his trembling hand “He was the bravest being I have ever met. He cast away his sword to take me with his bare hands. I pointed the gun at him. Fired a warning shot! He struggled with me, it went off...” Landru fell to his knees. “Why can’t you just kill me or let me die?” He screamed. “It is done, over, and I want to go home!”

 

She padded toward him, standing over him like Nemesis. He looked up, eyes begging.

 

Breia set the sword down, kneeling to hold him. The frame of the transparisteel was burning away as the station continued it’s final plunge.

 

“My greatest student, my greatest failure.” She whispered.

 

“But you don’t understand. I didn‘t fail.”

 

He spoke to her, telling her all. By the end she was laughing when the transparisteel melted.

 

*****

 

Three seconds...Two seconds...One second... A4 keyed the controls. The ramp coming up even as the engines screamed. He spun the ship in place, ramming it through the opening door of the boat bay.

 

“Wha...” Breia Solo tried to stand, but between a blinding headache and vertigo she ended up sprawled on the deck. Around her she could feel the ship shuddering as it punched up out of the atmosphere.

 

“Yaka...”

 

“Padawan Yaka left the ship intending to find Master Sookor and the enemy. He did not return. Master Sookor was brought aboard by the L7 waiting in the cargo bay. I have accessed it’s memory. A full rendition of how the gas was manufactured was in it‘s memory along with a list of everyone connected to it. Those who have not already been incarcerated will be.”

 

“Breia...”

 

“She left the ship to save an old friend in her own words. Both of them gave me a countdown to depart if they had not returned.”

 

“They... Are still on the station?”

 

“There is no station for them to be on.” The screen lit up. Behind them, the burning hulk of the station was screaming down into the atmosphere. As she watched, it landed in a circle of buildings surrounded by a deep red growth of plants. At mach 20 it was no longer metal and plastic, but an energy state eager for immolation. The equivalent of a ten kiloton warhead erased the town it fell on from the map.

 

She stared at it in horror. Yaka, Master Breia Sookor. Gone in a flash of light heat and sound. The com panel flashed, and she keyed it absently.

 

“Padawan Sani of Naboo. This is Padawan Reiger aboard Knight of Coruscant. Did you succeed?”

 

“No.” She whispered, sliding into the flight seat of the ship. “Padawan Yaka and Master Sookor are both dead. They rode the station down.”

 

“Gods.” Reiger gasped. “Join up at the command station with Master Hobart. I’ll keep this up.”

 

“No.” She wiped her eyes. “You need help. I will circle the containment area until all shuttles are accounted for.”

 

“Understood, Padawan Solo. You ride herd, I‘ll chivvy them along.”

 

*****

 

“Curious.” A4 said.

 

“What are you going on about now?” Breia asked dully.

 

“The chemical composition of the weapon.”

 

“What?”

 

“It is not stable.”

 

“Of course it is not stable. Creating a weapon susceptible to a sound vibration pretty much guarantees that it will be unstable.” She snapped.

 

“Yes. But examine these.” above the droid’s head a holo showed the artificial chemical breaking down then recombining in the Kusberi DNA. As she watched, each was highlighted. “The Sulishti specific compound has changed. It is no longer lethal, but...”

 

“But what?“

 

“It now causes a violent reaction to air pressure, making them physically sick the higher they go. The effects are similar to withdrawal from some of the nastier pain medications. An altitude of even a few hundred meters will cause physical discomfort bordering on agony.” The photo receptors swiveled. “You do know that on ships all species reduce standard air pressure to save on mass carried. Just being in a ship when they seal the hatch could be painful. It also causes a panic reaction linked directly to this in any that breathe it in the long term. Every time they try it will become worse. But these,” The other three flashed. “Are unstable. they have half lives if you will.”

 

“Meaning?”

 

“The first to dissipate into uselessness is the Human specific. It needs these key elements (Sections started to flash) which do not occur in nature. They are manufactured. 48 hours after the Kusberi begins producing it, the compound becomes this.” Another molecule subtly different appeared. “Though it does not degrade into safety for almost 2,000 years.

 

“the Twi-lek specific begins degrading next, but is still dangerous for 4,000 years. However when the cast off molecules interact with the degraded Human specific compound it creates this.” Another molecule again subtly different appeared. “This will begin to occur within two weeks.

 

“The Hutt specific will take almost 10,000 years to degrade, but the castoff molecules will combine with the newly formed Human / Twi-lek hybrid to form this within about three months.” The new molecule looked a lot like...

 

“Bidraxidine?”

 

“A naturally occurring form that does not need to be manufactured. Actually if my figures for collecting and encasing the gas in carbonite are correct it will be cheaper to merely siphon filter and bottle it there in atmosphere rather than pay for manufacture. Since the primary supplier of Bidraxidine to the Galaxy are the Hutt, they no longer have a corner on the market.

 

“The large molecules which are still toxic can be filtered readily, so when the plant life creates the Bidraxidine it can be sold. The species in question merely cannot go to the planet for it.

 

“If any Sulishti are off their home planet, they will be unable to live on a planet or travel through a station where this chemical in use unless they are willing to stay there forever.”

 

“What about the Ruurians Verpine-”

 

“Yes, in the artificial form. This agricultural form will not break free if aspirated by those races. Their adrenal analogs will not cause it to form the weapon. It is perfectly harmless.” The droid swiveled it’s eyes toward her. “However, there is one other problem with the raw gas product during that period. The only way to be perfectly safe for either Humans Hutt or Twi-lek or for species other than the Sulishti on their home world require two things. One is they have to be exposed to this gas in every form from original to reconstituted, or have been born where it is present.

 

“Second, they must have a quantity of Kusberi pollen in their lungs and sinus cavities equal to a minimum of six months constant exposure. Any human not already been resident on Fondor for that period of time, is in deadly danger, and no new people can move there until the initial toxin has been rendered harmless without taking the chance that some of it remains.

 

“The children!”

 

“What has not been checked by the medical staff was the affect of this gas on juvenile forms. However like most stimulants used by adults, the paradoxical effect comes into play. Even in a normal environment, a child is unaffected by this chemical. Had you noticed that most of the survivors aboard relatively undamaged stations have been children?”

 

She hadn‘t. Damn. But it made sense. Everyone goes mad, you are afraid, you run and hid. Somewhere they can’t reach you. A child’s idea of hiding saved you when force of arms could not. “But what of the workers from the orbital facilities?”

 

“They get only sporadic doses of the pollen when they are in the planet. A continued exposure to the pollen is why the native Fondorians are so badly affected. They get it constantly. But when this strikes they will be the only ones free of the weapon.

 

“Then there is this which is also odd.” The toxin was displayed, and beside it, a small series of molecules. “On the left is the toxin. On the right, is the primary enzme in Kusberi pollen which affects humans and especially Fondorians. When they combine...” The toxin touched the pollen, and rolled around it, the toxin matching the pollen exactly. “The toxin blocks the chemical in the Kusberi from assimilation. It is a totally natural antidote to the allergic reaction. At the same time this combination renders the toxin inert in humans but no other race.

 

“Oh gods.” Breia slapped her forehead. He’s created a cordon Sanitaire!’

 

“What?”

 

“A term that means ‘clean area’. He has created a place where humans can live eventually, and anyone native can remain, but no one else can.”

 

She looked toward the planet, shaking her head in wonder. Then turned to her duties.

 

*****

The final death toll was 61,428. Watching the scenes from the cameras set up in the towns created for the workers was too reminiscent of what she had seen to feel good to Breia. But the scenes from the towns where the Fondorians lived apart from the interlopers was positively pastoral. Behind he she could hear a couple of the Conglomerate board members talking.

 

“We’ll have to build a massive station just for R&R.” One commented. “It’ll set our growth predictions back by at least a decade.”

 

“No. We‘ll just raise the price on our ships 10% across the board...”

 

Master Hobart came up before she turned to rip someone’s head off.

 

*****

 

Breia Solo’s Journal: Looking down on the planet, I am sure that both Landru and my namesake Master Sookor are both having a good laugh at what has occurred. Two planet has been neatly excised from the galaxy, and the only people capable of settling on the other one live on the planet below me, which is under quarantine, and will be for ten millennia.

 

She would probably be upset with the loss of Millennium Falcon but when Knight of Ossus went back to tow her in, the ship had been spinning down into atmosphere. Master Reiger and Padawan Diera Coori swear the ship turned to point her blunt bow at the planet before her final dive. She had served one mistress since I was a baby, and refused to let anyone sail her with that mistress now dust.

 

There are fifty thousand workers in the, uh ‘soft’ industries still trapped down below. Read bartenders, waitresses, people of negotiable affections, you name it. People that had lived on the planet so they could batten on the workers. The one group that Landru did not work into his calculations. All there long enough for the pollen to save their lives. It will take a long time to work out a way to transport them off. Without their usual source of income, they are not happy to be there, and the Fondorians don’t want them there.

 

There are also 42,000 children of five different races down there and seventeen human planets as well, orphaned by the weapon. While the conglomerate is trying to find parents and relatives, there is no hurry. The Fondorians are family oriented, and every child even the Rodian and Hutt children can find homes if they wish to stay. i watched a pair of families arguing who would take a poor immature Hutt of only seventy years old. The Sulishti trapped on that world have been relocated to Delta continent. Oddly enough now that they are trapped among us, they are beginning to interact more readily with other races.

 

The change between the sickly people that had lived tormented by the Kusberi and the people now immune to it is astonishing. If the corporations decide they have to mine on this planet. the citizens won’t forget the mess that has been made any time soon.

 

They have named the small songbirds ‘Landru’s skimmer. Whether we wish to label him a villain or a hero, the people of that once tortured planet will remember his music with fondness.

 

Even his last act was a touch of genius. The station he rode to his death landed almost exactly on the village he had been born in, abandoned by the Fondorians for five decades. He went home, and assured no one would live there ever. Only 20,000 odd of those leeches who worked for the Conglomerate lived there.

 

Master Hobart told me that Breia went to her death in peace. She was still alive when the station fell into the atmosphere and he swears amused greatly just before she died. He also opined that it was the Force itself that helped Landru succeed.

 

Now I wonder.

 

The Force is within all of us. Perhaps the power of four million odd people in torment fed his ability, made his plan no matter how insane it seemed work so smoothly. The reports from Nar Shaddaa are a puzzle because no one ordered Hand personnel to lay the elaborate fields of booby traps that were discovered at the stations that had been attacked. There is no signature of who might have done it, or why. Every piece used in their manufacture were common materials and the only way to tell a Corellian ‘Room Broom’ from the Coruscanti ‘Man sweeper is by serial numbers. Everything supposedly was already aboard those stations, and you can believe it if you wish. A lot of the Military do.

 

Some have suggested that people on the stations that have knowledge of such things placed them during their madness, but it begs the question of the ones set up with equipment they would not have had, such as missile pods. It is the one puzzle remaining.

 

The Chancellor won the election with a landside, his party so firmly in power I do not expect him to be deposed any time soon. He assured that the courts martial for the officers arrested at his order were scrupulously fair. Admirals Tori Logan Nadien Charles were convicted of all charges. The only one not sent to prison was Charles, who shot himself with his own sidearm before the sentence was read. Minister Riker was stripped of his seat in the senate, and is to be tried before a civilian court. Considering everything a lawyer can do in front of a civilian court that is not allowed before a military one, the trial may begin sometime in the next decade.

 

We are enroute to Coruscant. I am being assigned a new Padawan learner...

[Jae Onasi]

Sigh, very bittersweet. Enough to make me feel quite emotional about it. And that is no easy task.

[machievelli]

Well, I have only one question for all of you.

 

Was Landru really that evil?

[Jae Onasi]

I have a tough time justifying exterminating an entire species for any reason. I'm not a moral relativist.

I can understand how he went down that path, however.

[machievelli]

If you read my critic column, you will notice that at least three of our young fellows (One in the Galactic Senate) have explored this subject deeply. It isn't a matter of the old miquoted 'we destroyed the village to save it'. Rather it is, as I asked, did the Force itself assist this poor man to save his people? I agree that the destruction of an entire race was a bit of an over reaction. I will probably rewrite it and instead hit the Sulishti with something else.

 

Tell me, Jae, could I have arranged for the toxin not to kill them all, but to make it so the only place they could live is on their home world? Requiring say a constant supply of the enzymes from the Kusberi, like an addiction complex for Barbiturates?

 

It would mean that the toxin would also have to alter the Kusberi on Fondor (Maybe something in the soil is fundamentally different) so that they can live on their home world but can't come to Fondor without dying?

[Jae Onasi]

This is something you can play with. If you want to keep them tied on their planet/system exclusively, you might want to do something that prevents them from being x miles outside the atmosphere/system or something like that, or alter their hive mentality so that they never want to leave (such as changing something in their pheromones and so on), etc. You could make the xenophobia so bad that they never even want to leave their system. You could create a compound that interacts with their chemistry that means they can't leave an atmosphere of their specific chemistry, or make something unique to their planet--make it so that only their planet has the one thing they need to survive--a chemical, a bacterium/good virus/etc., the specific wavelength of their sun or planet magnetic field (though that could be reproduced I guess on a ship) etc.

Anne McCaffrey's Crystal Singer does it with a symbiot--once you're infected with it, you can't leave the planet for very long if at all.

 

If you do something to only keep them off Fondor, they can go other places.