A New Jedi in an Old Republic

Republica 500

Residence of Senator Padme Amidala

"3PO, put that back," the young woman from Naboo instructed her protocol droid. It seemed to her that the shimmering droid was actually performing better since he came back from the hands of Senate Intelligence cleared of being subverted as a spy.

Now she just wished Anakin was there, to go over his droid one more time. Just to be sure.

"Of course, Mistress." C-3PO returned one of the more opulent dressed to the closet. "Perhaps this blue one?"

"No," Padme replied. "I want the simple garments. The capital of Mandalore was built in the wastelands as a reminder of the costs their wars of aggression brought down on them. They dress simply to match that and showing up in one of the more traditional gowns of Naboo would be an insult to them."

"Ah!" 3PO raised one arm in understanding. "You wish to pack the wardrobe you wear when you go out with Master Skywalker?"

Glad that the droid wouldn't recognize the flush in her cheeks, Padme nodded. "Yes. Please. That would be better."

She was saved from further awkward discussions with the droid when the door to her apartment rang out. "I'll get it!" C-3PO eagerly followed his programming, shuffling as fast as he could to the front door. There was a pair of security guards outside her door now, and Padme regretted the necessity, eager for the day when it would no longer be. Her guest would not have been allowed to knock if they couldn't get past them, and someone trying to force their way through would have brought down a far larger security response.

Finishing the bag in front of her with materials about the culture and history of Mandalore to read on the way there, she gave 3PO enough time to greet their guest, and escort them to the living room. Strolling out, she at first didn't recognize her guest before the face of the older woman became clear to her.

"Ors," she bowed to the friend of Master Katarn, whose words helped shape her opinion. "What can I do for you?"

Jan smiled. "Actually, it's what I'm doing for you, Senator." She produced a small form from a pocket and handed it to Padme. "Due to the situation, Senator Mothma as requested that I be your aide for your trip to Mandalore, to provide security and other services while your normal people are indisposed."

Amidala read the missive from her friend. "She sent you," she read it again. "I don't need a minder."

Jan agreed. "No, you don't. But you're being given one, and I'm not political enough to be a minder. Besides, with a Jedi as part of your envoy, having another person used to working with them was seen as a boon."

"And you have no problems with this?" Padme could see the logic there.

"Of course not!" Jan replied. "I haven't been to Mandalore in a long time. And apparently the good Senator was looking for someone who could keep up with you."

The not-so-subtle reminder of some of her more adventurous exploits was enough to cause Padme to glare at the Intelligence agent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Show me your holdout," Jan commanded her, holding out her hand.

Padme bristled at the tone. "Why?"

"So I can see if it's actually any good." Jan reached into her jacket with her other hand and pulled out a blaster of her own. "This is a Scout Blaster," she handed the Imperial weapon over to Padme to examine. "Lightweight, with an oversized guard to that you can pull the trigger while wearing gloves."

Seeing no way out, and knowing from experience that she would get more done by agreeing with her now and applying pressure later, Padme relented. "I have an ELG-3A. I don't have it on me because I wasn't planning on being armed in my own quarters." She handed Ors' weapon back to her where it vanished inside her clothes. "I hope you're not planning on wearing that to any official meetings."

"Of course I will," Jan replied. "And you'll be wearing yours."

"At a diplomatic conference that is casual at best?" The Senator could only shake her head. "I'm not going into enemy territory."

"No, but you're leaving the Republic." Jan had done protection details before. But that was back in the future when people were used to a more violent Galaxy. "And your self-protection is a contingent requirement of your trip."

"Very well." Padme relented. "If there's anything else?"

"Got a second holdout?"

"What? Why?"

"Or a lightsabre?"

Padme was aghast. "Why would I have a Jedi's weapon?"

Jan shrugged. "I figure Padawan Skywalker would have stashed a spare here, just in case. Or given one to you for your protection."

Recalling how the woman before her had described her relationship with the Jedi Katarn, Padme considered the possibility that she herself had wielded a lightsabre in the past. "I have no skill with such a thing," she admitted. "He did attempt to show me the basics some time ago, but it was beyond me."

Jan nodded. "Alright. Before we leave Coruscant, we'll get you another holdout weapon. One that doesn't scream out 'I am a Naboo Noble'."

"Do you honestly expect I would be in need of such things?"

"A scoundrel I know taught his wife that if you have a holdout, have a second one so you can give up the first."

"You travel in very low-class circles." Padme didn't mean it as an insult, but once the words were out of her mouth, she saw how they could be interpreted as such. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ors smiled. "It's true."

Republic Starship Sathanas

Anakin paused, an unusual hesitancy to knock on the door in front of him. His debriefing with the Captain had gone well enough, and he had received no major complaints about his performance.

It didn't change the fact that people had died.

Not just the Clones. But thousands had perished when the Dreadnought had detonated, unable to reach the escape shuttles or pods in time. And even though he was strong in the Force, the sudden ... he really didn't have a word to describe it. Like a ... shear in the Force had ripped through that ship as it died, taking the crew with her.

He didn't want to think about it, but every time he tried to put it out of his mind, his hands began to shake ever so slightly. To most people, it would be well within normal random motion. But he was no random person. He was a Jedi, and that was a sign of weakness. He couldn't display weakness in front of anyone, including himself.

And that also meant knocking on the door.

So he did, one sharp press of the button that signalled his presence. On the other side of the door, the resident of the room did not call for him, but simply opened the door for him.

Anakin stepped into Captain Corvell's quarters, though the Captain was not in, having given up his room for Wilhuf Tarkin, who sat at the desk that faced the door, thin face framed by the medical devices hooked up to him.

"Sir," Anakin said, saluting. "You wanted to see me?"

"I do," Tarkin snapped without looking up. "You're early. Good. Sit down."

The young Jedi took the hard black plastic seat. "I wasn't aware you were up and working yet," he said, trying to smooth things like his own weakness over. "The word was you were still supposed to be under medical observation."

"I will not take a medical bed or bacta treatment that cannot be first applied to someone who needs it more," Tarkin ground out. "I've had this discussion with the physicians on this ship already."

"I was merely concerned for your well being," Anakin said. "An injured body adversely affects the mind as well."

Tarkin huffed, and the medical devices attached to him seemed to jump with the motion, afraid that the act was a precursor to a more serious event. "Better logic in a single sentence than I got in an hour." He still hadn't looked up at Anakin, causing the young man to worry. Had he done something wrong that the sharp man was going to deliver a personal and scathing review. But he had not erred at all, he was sure of that.

"You summoned me?" Anakin prodded.

"I did, now be patient. You're early." Tarkin still hadn't looked up. "Unless you have other places to be?"

For a moment, Anakin was tempted to say 'No', that he waited on Tarkin's time frame. But the Force nudged him to be a little more aggressive than that. "I have reviews with my pilots, and reorganization of forces until we get reinforced."

Tarkin finally deigned to look up. "Are you telling me that you would rather see to your pilots and equipment than wait on my pleasure?" Anakin knew there was a dangerous answer to that question, but danger was something he didn't shy away from.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Tarkin finally put down the information in front of him. "Tell me about the battle. I was unable to observe the end of it, and the reports I have gotten are quite sterile for the most part."

Anakin found talking about his view of the fight to be calming. Almost meditative as he reflected on what he saw and did. And as he did so, he found that his own views were narrow. As a fighter pilot, he was often more concerned about what was in front of him, rather than the grand sweeping tactics. He could direct his flight – and did, and passed along orders from on high.

Then he realized he had said that out loud, and froze in place.

"No, no," Tarkin said with a slight smile. "Do go on. If you believe that I will fault you for focusing on your duties, you are wrong."

Anakin worked his mouth for a moment before returning to relating his experiences.

"So," Tarkin said, fixing the young man with his stare after he was done, "You believe that there are improvements that could be made?"

"Yes," Anakin said. Obi-Wan had nothing on Tarkin when it came to glaring. "The new ships – the Venator and Acclamator – they aren't focused. They're both trying to do too many jobs at once, and it hurts them for it. The Venator doesn't have enough fighters, while the Acclamator has plenty of strike craft, but its heavy anti-shipping weapons leave much to be desired."

Tarkin did not reply, instead looking at Anakin in a silence that deepened, threatening to join the void outside. "What would you say is the reason for this?" He finally asked, restoring some semblance of light to the room.

" ... I couldn't say," Anakin truthfully admitted, suspecting that any attempt to ... bend the truth would be instantly discovered. "I don't have the experience for that." He played up his youthfulness, hoping that would be enough.

Tarkin snorted again. "I can believe that. And your fighters?"

"Superior." Anakin said instantly, far more comfortable with the machines he had personal experience operating. "The droid fighters were so outclassed in terms of skill and design it ceased to be funny."

"Yet...?" Tarkin prodded.

"They seem to suffer from the same problem that the capital ships do," Anakin replied. "They are generalists. They try to be dog-fighters, interceptors and bombers all at once, and while they are still better, they could still be better." He paused, having tripped over his words. "Did that make sense? That they should be more focused."

It does." Tarkin relaxed. "Truth be told, you are not the only person I've talked to, and many of them share your opinions. These ships, it seems, in the Grand Navy of the Republic were designed on paper, and not through the proper recourse of studying the warships of the past."

"Sir, the Republic hasn't had a war of this level for a thousand years!"

"Yes, I know." Tarkin's anger turned away from the Jedi. "The ships were designed by people who didn't even go that far back, except in the most basic of designs. Although at least they are still intended to be warships. I don't know what I would do if I had to take a ship with large research facilities into combat."

"Ablative armor after evacuating the sections?"

Tarkin gave a sharp laugh. "Perhaps. No, the fleet we have been given at least uses established designs for hospital ships, and civilian science vessels as auxiliaries where needed. It's the warships that people are playing at."

"What do you intend to do about this lack?"

"When we return to Coruscant," Tarkin turned sour, "and I give my reports, having the word of a Jedi with personal experience in this would go a long way to convincing the fleet planners to make improvements."

Anakin understood that implicitly. So many problems could be resolved when a Jedi showed up and gave an opinion, or simply moderated. "I would enjoy that."

"As will I."

Jedi Temple

Coruscant

"How's the packing?" Kyle asked, leaning against the bulkhead. "You look annoyed."

"I am," Jan admitted. "I never knew how lucky we were to deal with people who knew that they could come under fire at any moment. So when you suggest taking precautions, like being armed properly, they were already half-way there."

"And Padme's not."

"She carries a custom designed blaster pistol only manufactured on her homeworld, and which she has custom modified."

Kyle winced in sympathy. "So... instantly traceable."

"Yep. Have to pickup a grey market holdout."

"Can't have mine," Kyle patted the Brylar at his side.

"I wouldn't ask." Jan closed up her travel bag. "What about you? Anything new with you?"

"Just the usual. Haven't got my armor back from the Jedi yet. I think they're poking it like it's going to bite them for the most part."

"I would say that it couldn't be that bad, but I suspect it is."

"They're getting better. I saw the holo of the demonstration that Master Cin gave regarding why, and it was quite effective."

"You mean his idea to shoot someone with a stunner?"

"Yep. And I talked to the Clone Troopers after. They agreed that knowing that the Jedi weren't invincible was a good thing. They had been taught otherwise, and knowing that the Jedi could be taken out like that means that the chain of command doesn't end with them."

"Sounds like you nipped a problem in the bud there."

"Eh," Kyle downplayed his effort. "It's a lesson they would have learned anyway. Now it just happened sooner."

Seranno

"This is the mission you have chosen for yourself?" Dooku asked as Ventress stood on the ramp of her shuttle. "It seems beneath you." The words were honeyed, asked in that combination of statesman and father that Dooku put out for the public to show that he cared.

"Perhaps it is," Ventress agreed. "However, the mission itself is not the be-all, end-all of my purpose on Mandalore."

"Oh? Do explain yourself." There was no threat there, which made the threat even more insidious.

"Fear," Ventress played to the expectations of the Sith Master. "I have chosen this particular mission not because of the immediate objectives – though it will certainly be worthwhile to complete, but because I intend to invoke a sense of fear into the others who would do the same"

"To keep them in line." Dooku stroked his beard in contemplation. "You intend to arrive as an overwhelming force, and deal with your targets in such a manner that they cannot retaliate."

"Effectively, yes. That nothing is too small or too large to escape the notice of the Sith, and all who oppose us will be dealt with accordingly. Dealing with this particular problem may make people think that we cannot deal with ... larger issues, but that will only serve to lower their guard."

Dooku smiled. "Yes. I see. You are making plans within plans. All of which are completed with the same set of actions. How elegant."

Ventress wanted to sneer. Elegance had nothing to do with her decision. She made her decision based on the practicality of the mission, and the results she could generate for it. But still, she had her own part to play still, even as other plans moved in the background. "I assure you," she said as she walked up the ramp, "I do not intend to deal with the small problems forever. I have a reputation to build."

"Then may Mandalore give you want you want."

"Give?" Ventress let her contempt show. "I will take it."

Coruscant

Obi-wan strode up to the Royal Naboo ship, the familiar lines of the vessel that replaced the one destroyed by sabotage shortly before the war began. At the entrance, Senator Amidala stood, smiling. "Master Kenobi!" she greeted him with good cheer. "It is good of you to join us."

"I found myself unable to mount any serious objections," Obi-wan replied as he came to a stop in front of the young Senator. "I trust everything is prepared?"

"Of course, Obi-wan." Amidala used a more familiar form of address among friends. "You are always welcome where Naboo and the Republic is concerned. The debt we owe..."

"Can never be repaid," the Jedi finished off. "Yes, I know. But I never intend to collect."

"It's the thought and the intention that count," the young Senator completed the usual platitudes.

"Senator, is our guest aboard?" A voice that Obi-wan was surprised to recognize came from the small speaker in the ramp. "We're almost at our launch window."

"Let us board," Obi-wan gestured up the ramp. "We can talk more on the way to Mandalore. And I think I've met your pilot."

"Agent Jan Ors? Yes, I suppose you would have." Amidala followed behind, then closed the ramp behind them. "She's been assigned to this mission by Republic Intelligence. I cannot say I agree with the decision, but she seems to be competent."

"She has to be, travelling with the Jedi for as long as she has." Obi-wan kept walking forward, noting that it was just the three of them. "Where are your usual attendants?"

"Security checks," Amidala was annoyed. "Hopefully they will all be cleared by the time we return."

"All aboard?" Jan turned in her seat and leaned to look down the hall leading up to the cockpit. "Obi-wan?" She sounded surprised, but the Jedi detected that she wasn't really. Had word of his assignment reached her through Katarn and the general rumor mill? "I didn't expect you."

"I was assigned to this by the Council thanks to my previous experience with the Duchess," he explained. "I hope that won't be a problem?"

"Not at all!" Jan turned her attention back to the controls in front of her. "The more the merrier. And you're not an unknown factor."

"I'm glad for that. If you'll excuse me though, I want to start discussing things with the good Senator. If there are any problems?"

"I'll let you know." Jan agreed. "We're just a minute out from our launch."

Soon, the shimmering ship pulled away from the landing platform, headed through the controlled space out into space, and Mandalore beyond.

Jedi Temple

Kazdan Paradus was outside his workshops, a ship full of people he had to meet arriving shortly. Masters Javi and Ghera were returning from Dweem with the volunteers from the Iron Knights. He had heard from Master Windu that he would be joining them later, mostly because he felt he had things to apologize for, and being there from the start may have been seen as inflammatory.

The small freighter slowed, emerging from the cloud of ships that were forced to stay out of the Temple Exclusion Zone. It took a moment to locate the landing point that the small Master waited on, but soon set down. He stood up to his full assisted height, letting his exoskeleton show.

A few moments later, the two Corellian Jedi disembarked. They greeted Paradus, then turned to the freighter. "Master Paradus, allow us to introduce the Iron Knights of Dweem, Jedi all."

The droids stepped out, now summoned. They were a mish-mash of parts and designs, more non-humanoid than were.

And to his eyes, they were all beautiful. "Welcome, welcome," he said with tears forming. "We have much to discuss, and many plans to create. I am Master Kazdan Paradus, responsible for droid manufacture and modification here at the Jedi Temple."

"I am Master 01010101," the lead droid introduced itself. "Thank you for your welcome. Let this be the beginning of understanding and reconciliation."

"Yes, it shall."