SCHISMS
BEGINNINGS
GR PROGRAM - ORIGIN 6 - MEETING #63
The room's lighting was subdued as four people seated themselves around a table for their latest discussion. The room was sealed and protected from all sorts of eavesdroppers and the group's extra sensory perception augmented the security. It was their job to meet at the end of every week and discuss what they had observed and prepare a report of their conclusions to the appropriate people.
There was an aura of exuberant accomplishment all across their government's sphere of influence that the group felt and was proud to be a part of. CSIS, their new intelligence agency was starting to find their feet, their confederation of worlds starting to come out onto the galactic scene and seize opportunities for growth and expansion. The undercurrent of raw potential was everywhere and it electrified the silent observers.
Electrified and yet terrified them at the same time.
For their gaze could be cast farther than the typical citizen's and the dangers over the horizon came to them with a clarity that seemed to befuddle those without the gift. There were two of their numbers absent from the meeting still observing while trying to assertain just how far the average leader could see.
With each progressive meeting, however, their mounting fears could no longer be pushed aside....
"One has only to consider the dominant aspects of the Galactic Coalition to extrapolate the direction they will take," started the First Speaker, a premier Socialogist or, rather, the copy of one.
"Based on the current Azguard model, their quasi-religious culture will continue to drive the local economies to the brink of disaster when faced with..." the Second Speaker started before being interrupted by the cold logic of their preeminent military leader. Or, rather, their resident copy of one. The Second did not mind, however. His speciality was technology and his interest was the application of his extra-sensory perceptions on the current technology-base of his people and how those foundations could be strengthened, augmented and improved upon. This talk of religions and governments did not hold the same level of interest for him as it did the First or Fourth Speakers.
They all came from a military background, though. In his mind, the First Speaker prepared the people for war. He, the Second, would supply the people with the tools to make war and the Third, the Third would lead them in war.
The Fourth, the Fourth dealt with the aftermath of war be it gaining as much as one could in victory or ensuring all was not lost in defeat.
"The Coalition does not have the military flexibility and ability to match the independent commands of their Imperial counterparts," the Third stated with absolute finality. "Their successive strategies do show marked improvement as do their ability to coordinate complex attack patterns, given they are a coalition of multiple cultures and peoples. However, the number of experienced commanders is lacking given their tonnage losses over the last decade. For each consecutive war, their soldiers are green to the experience and ineffective commanders are not replaced. The combination of battlefield losses does and will continue to do irreparable damage to their overall military readiness no matter how flexible."
"To what is this attributed too?" the Fourth asked, a woman of some elegant stature.
"The government may be modeled after Azguard sensibilities, but they are not considered the dominant aspect at this juncture," the First continued, both agreeing and disagreeing with the Second Speaker. "The lack of military victories has caused the Azguardian leadership to keep their military command in constant flux causing confusion among the ranks. As a result, military failures will continue while individual portions of the Coalition continue to exert a greater influence over the body politic as a whole.."
"..which, in turn, will contribute to a self-perpetuating and growing list of failure after failure," the Fourth finished.
It was not a new concept but it was a poignant one for them as they were also a part of this grand Galactic Coalition of Planets.
"Interdependency is the Coalition's greatest strength and its greatest weakness," mulled the Second Speaker. "Given we are generally considered the novice in both Coalition politics as well as galactic politics, our influence is practically non-existent."
"We have a strong diplomatic corps," the Fourth started out angrily. Her original was Christine Thorn, hell,
she was Christine Thorn when it came down to it, even if hidden from sight. To have her experience and abilities sidelined by the well-meaning, do-good fools of the Coalition when what they needed most was a dose of exceptional diplomatic ability was galling.
"Irrelevant," the Third Speaker concluded, causing the Fourth to bristle. He turned to her while raising an eyebrow, "I do not like it any more than you do but our admission into the Coalition was fast-tracked on their end not because they recognize a society functioning like a well-oiled machine but because of the amount of hulls we can bring to bear against their great enemy, the Empire."
"We need to martial our strength before provoking a conflict with such an enemy. Only then will the odds of victory be in our favor.." the Second started again causing the First to chuckle.
"We know that is not going to happen. We have all seen it," the First's chuckle drew little mirth. Nothing of what they had seen showed anything remotely good enough to qualify as a reason for mirth.
"What were we thinking when we joined?" asked the Second and the Fourth smiled grimly.
"We did not have the benefit of foresight or the ability of our extra-sensory perceptions," she replied and the Third grunted.
"We had 'hope'."
"Hope?" the First considered the word almost distasteful. "Were we really so blind?" he asked but even he knew the answer. He was an exact copy of the original, only with the powers granted by the Program.
If their originals knew what they knew and could see what they saw, their decisions would be a hundred times more effective and beneficial for their people. That revelation was the entire justification for their own existence and they had excitedly tried to inform their originals time and again of this fact.
But, being originals and without the benefits of the perceptions/observations of the Program, all they could do is 'hope' and proceed at a cautious pace so slow that it taxed the clone's patience. They wanted proof and while such a stance was not surprising, or unreasonable for they knew themselves best after all, it was maddening to have something in the palm of your hand but not be able to grab it.
The natural outworking of events, even accounting for a situational domino effects, seemed to proceed rather slowly.
Too slowly. Perhaps there was something they could do to speed up the process and give their originals, themselves, the proof they needed to take that step also and give themselves over to the Program.
The Fourth Speaker was the clone of Christina Thorn and she enjoyed talking with her original. It was as if they were both the sisters to each other that they never had. But, lately, she was beginning to think of Christine as her younger sister realizing that the original just did not have her range of perception or vision. It was not really the others fault or was it?
Christina Thorn now had the opportunity to volunteer for the program, the same as she did. Still, something was holding her original back and for the life of her, she did not know what it was even though she was the others exact copy.
All except Corise. His original did not know he had been cloned but was a victim of an overzealous scientist. The clone, once the transference had taken place, woke up thinking he was the 'real' Corise and upon realizing what had been done had been extremely angry for a good long while. So honorable was the man that he had even contemplated taking his own life but life is not so easily discarded. She liked to think that it was her intervention that had stayed the Corise-clone's hand.
"How did you know you were the clone and not the original?" she had once asked him.
"I do not remember there ever being voices in my head," he replied dryly, though with a hint of sadness.
"Maybe you are going crazy?" she added playfully but his eyes only radiated more sadness.
"If that were the case, better my end come by my hand rather than from the inevitability of a fading mind."
She could not fault that stance, however, wasteful. The man was brilliant but the man was also a copy. That was something the Jedi, Sith and Jensaarai did not have to contend with. The Jensaarai who originated from the Program were not copies but were the original volunteers. Not every volunteer ended up with a success story and those that 'didn't take' to the program were kept isolated and locked away for the safety of all concerned. But the upper echelon of Contegorian society, that was a different story.
"If the Coalition keeps nipping at the heels of the beast, the beast will rear up and kick them down. And when the beast comes kicking, they will not differentiate who in the Coalition were the fools and who were not. We will all equally be destroyed..." The First Speaker stated.
"Then we must separate ourselves from the pack," the Third, Corise, concluded flatly. "Our first concern must be our own people."
The statement was fact and no one contested it.
"We would draw the ire of the Coalition if we separate. In fact, such a separation would be ugly." The Fourth Speaker interjected, the political ramifications running through her mind.
"Plus the Empire will see two smaller enemies rather than one large enemy. There is a reason we joined." The Second Speaker reminded them. Just because the originals did not have their perceptions did not mean they were not making the best choices they could given the information at hand.
"So the dominating factions within the Coalition will continue to provoke until the Empire's patience has expired and we will all suffer? Or we separate from the Coalition and the Empire sees an opportunity to strike and we still all suffer?" the Fourth asked.
"Hang together or hang apart, we all still hang," the Second remarked dryly.
"So we act," the Third stated flatly. He held up his fingers, "
One, we need to disengage from the Coalition while ensuring the survival of the Coalition.
Two, we need to secure the respect of the Empire or at the very least, a fear that they will lose more than they will gain in any conflict with us. And
Three, we need to ensure a new dominant faction within the Coalition. One more stable and reasonable than the current hot-heads running things which means unhinging them first."
"And
Four," the Fourth's eyes lit up, "we need to win."
The Corise-clone nodded at that as all around the table contemplated her words.
"And I think I know how we can accomplish this," the woman stated.
*
"Chris, the man is a conflicted, emotionally battered shell of a man. He was a leader of a galactic power only to see it fall and now he oversees a part of the Coalition."
"A dangerously growing part," The Fourth reminded.
"Chris, you are talking about sending the man onto a course that will end the lives of a great many people," the Third observed and his companion frowned.
"Corise, the man is going to make the move sooner or later. He
will strike, he
will make a play for the Coalition leadership and he
will get a great many people killed. We cannot stop this. Even if we tried to by killing him, his son will take his place and the same issues will still exist!
Here," her finger went down on the table, "Here we have an opportunity to set events in motion according to our own timetable. Events that are going to happen anyway! We control the why and the where here and now and the rest will fall into place as we will it. It is classic negotiating techniques, Corise. You take control of the conversation and you can steer the resulting agreements in your favor. It is the gaining of that control that is the most difficult but in this case, in our case, we have certain advantages in our favor."
She grinned and Corise shifted uncomfortably because he knew what effect her smile was having and, perhaps, she knew it too. It was strange, there being two Thorns.... and he grinned to himself at the thought.
Two Thorns in my side!
He understood the reasoning behind the Program and the cautions that the upper echelon had before volunteering themselves to the procedure. They had the money to create clones but it was a government program and so the cloning required certain, if clandestine, government oversight. He was just a starship driver, or his original was, but there was a lot of ways this could get out of hand. The sheer scale of what they were contemplating and strategizing about staggered the warrior. He knew what his original would say. He was, in fact, an exact copy. Up until his eyes opened and he found he had perceptions the other did not. Their lives diverged from that point but he figured he still had more than a good idea of what his original would say (and vice-versa).
He would want me shot!
At least, on some level.
The danger outweighed the risk.
Or did it?
So far, the six clones of the leadership lived quiet lives discussing their experiences as they traveled throughout their growing confederation. They even played the parts of their originals, discreetly of course, and always, with the exception of Corise, with the full knowledge of the originals. Stepping into the lives of their originals was like slipping on an old glove over a new hand and it was exciting to suddenly be back in charge, in command of a situation and making a difference.
He knew the others felt the same way. In fact, he could sense how they felt.
But in their travels, a feeling of disappointment had also been growing. Of results that could have been better, of opportunities missed, of losses that might have been prevented if someone in the higher positions could have seen what they had seen, felt what they had felt and perceived what was becoming second nature to them.
There had to be a better way!
His eyebrows rose. There was a better way.
That was what the program was all about.
Their way!
He looked into Chris' eyes and saw the same frustration that was eating at him... at all of them. There were others coming as their cloning and transference cycle schedules came due and they knew that these, eventually, would also begin to feel the frustration. That was why there were only six original clones brought to term first. To tweak the integration process and prepare the way for the others to be seamless. Or less rocky than what the six experienced.
Still, the frustration was also knowing what needed to be done but not being able to do it.
Action!
He was a man of action. Or, rather, the clone of a man of action.
He still felt the urge to roll up his sleeves and get to work along with the others. To contribute something to the cause and feel the satisfaction of accomplishment.
His mind flared up with the possible strategies and tactics that would be needed to accomplish what the group was wanting and he realized something.
"We cannot accomplish what we need to accomplish within the framework of government we have now," Corise started and when Christina started to open her mouth to object, he shook his head, "We have enough military assets that might be able to be detached without our counterparts knowing or others that might want to interfere."
And it was conceivable that others would want to interfere for the group would be acting on something that only they could see.
"..but we do not have the infrastructure to back up any action the limited assets at our disposal could perform. We would require the entire Navy and I do not see our government giving us a blank credit chit to charge our expenses on. It requires finesse. Your idea would help take care of number Three, which could then be the catalyst for number one. But I do not see how we can start number three without first addressing two."
"Manipulating an empire is not as easy as manipulating a person," Christina remarked ruefully.
"We do not need to manipulate an empire. We just need to puff up the ambitions of a fool or two and the empire has plenty of those."
The two of them laughed at the thought and began to talk in earnest.
In the end, the group found the perfect catalyst to chose their when and where...
*
NUMBER TWO
"You want to what?" Christina Thorn stared at her "sister" behind the massive desk in the Pro-Consul's office.
"I would like to purchase foodstuffs from an agricultural planet for the upcoming Confederation Anniversary Celebration. I am coming to you for permission and a government credit chit."
"Foodstuffs?" the Pro-Consul frowned and the clone laughed lightly.
"When was the last time you purchased foodstuffs for the government?" she asked a little jovially.
The Pro-Consul's eyes narrowed as if doing a mental search but realized the clone already knew the answer since she was, in fact, a copy of herself. The Pro-Consul smiled grimly, "You know very well that we have departments who handle government acquisitions of that sort. Besides," her smile vanished, "do your powers inform you that there will be a food shortage during the celebration?"
The clone waved the question away. "This is not about the Force, Christina. This is about me getting out and
doing something.
Anything! It is strange to know that I am the Pro-Consul but I am not the Pro-Consul and so I have all this experience and ability sitting idly by all the while I am taking tours around the Confederation observing and reporting."
"You know why.." the Pro-Consul started to speak defensively when the other interrupted with a placating gesture.
"Of course, I know why! So this request is partially your fault!"
"My fault?"
"Yes! In my observations on these tours, I have noted a few displaced peoples and a growing need to address issues regarding the poor."
"What do you mean 'displaced peoples'?"
"Stop taking everything I say so personally!" grumbled the clone. "Our economy is booming and much of it has to do with our interest in automation. As a result, there are those displaced by that drive for automation. It is not a large number but as our automation endeavors increase, so will those numbers."
"We have programs.." started the Pro-Consul when the other waved that away too.
"We do have programs. That is why I am not asking for permission to purchase food for these people for the rest of their lives. Just during the time of the Celebration! Parents who might be between jobs or in that niche between being let go because a droid can do the job cheaper and new classes the government programs are providing for reeducation and retraining starting up and I would like for them to worry about how much to dote on their kids during the Celebration rather than if they can afford food! I just... I just felt like doing something and I felt this would be a 'low impact' action with regards to your position."
"Low impact?" the Pro-Consul's eyes widened. "That does not sound like me. That sounds like the good Commodore."
"Well, now that you mention it..." she knocked on the side door to the Pro-Consul's office which led to the office Christina thought was vacant as its owner was involved in meetings on another world for the week. The door slid open and Corise Lucerne, or, rather, his clone stood in the frame.
"May I enter?" he asked politely and the Pro-Consul numbly nodded.
"You are not supposed.." she started weakly as he entered.
"I know," he interjected gently. "Corise is out inspecting the fleet right now and Chris," he motioned to the Pro-Consul's clone sister staring back, "my Chris," he corrected causing a little wave of jealousy to cloud the Pro-Consul's mind for a few seconds before dismissing it.
They represented lives on a different path.
Or did it?
Would her path also bring her and Corise closer?
"..Chris wanted to do something for the children during the Celebration coming up so I figured I could be her wingman without undo trouble."
Part of the Pro-Consul's mind realized that his presence was manipulative. Still, she had wondered how Corise's clone was doing since she only saw her sister from time to time.
"It must be tough to know you had other responsibilities only to wake up and find someone else was performing them and all you had to do is sit around and observe and report observations," the Pro-Consul started.
Corise grinned slightly and shrugged. "I am more relaxed now than I remember myself being while I was flittering around the Sector in a Pegasus. I will not lie and say I do not miss it but even this life for us," he gestured to himself and her sister, "while it has it's benefits and drawbacks, it will not go on forever."
Christina paused, "You think about that?"
"Of course," Corise answered honestly. "Eventually, you will have enough information to know if the benefits of the Program seen in us is going to motivate you to volunteer or not. Irregardless if you take the step or not, we are living beings and once we are cleared as the Jensaarai were, I figure we will either be publicly acknowledged with full rights of citizenship or if the government is uncomfortable with acknowledging us, perhaps we can be given a ship to go exploring or colonizing or ...just something to do! Idle hands make idle minds, after all."
"I had not realized that you thought about what would happen after being cleared and I should have. I apologize. But what if you are not cleared?"
"Then I would have more serious things to worry about than where I want to retire," Corise admitted. "Maybe the program doesn't take and we all become Sith Lords brandishing lightsabers about? I would imagine that we would either be incarcerated or shot but my money would be on being shot."
"How likely a possibility do you think that would be?" the Pro-Consul asked interested, wondering if the clone would really answer honestly about turning into a raving mad Sith.
Corise shrugged again, "It is always a possibility. Likely? Probably not. I do not even know 'what' a Sith is exactly or how to build a light saber."
Her sister shrugged as well, "I would probably cut my own arm off if I handled a saber."
The Pro-Consul nodded, chuckling to herself. She remembered cutting a finger when she tried to cook a traditional Kashan dinner. Twirling a lightsaber around? She would probably cut off more than an arm. She tapped some entries into a datapad and opened a drawer taking out a credit voucher.
"There is a limit so do not go crazy!" she stated sounding patronizing.
Corise's eyes lost their smile but her sister, Chris, took the chip gratefully. "Thank you! We really appreciate it."
There were tears in her sister's eyes as both left by the side entrance and the Pro-Consul suddenly realized what she had done. She had effectively told her sister that she did not trust her and gave her a limit on the credit chit as if the other were a novice.
What if their roles were reversed and she was the one asking and her sister had begrudgingly gave her a credit chit with a limit not trusting her to make smart decisions in the purchase of... food?
She sighed. If you could not trust yourself, who could you trust?
~
"There is not nearly enough credit to purchase..." Corise stated darkly as they entered their area once more.
"Ssshhhhh.." Chris added, brushing his worry away.
"Chris, it is not enough even for a down payment. You know how those marketeers are."
"Just wait..." she replied which only further frustrated Corise.
"The plan will have to be scrapped.." he started again when the credit chit beeped and he looked at it dumbfounded.
The credit restrictions had been removed.
"It pays to know thyself," the Christina-clone stated sagely.
*
Agamar
"This is quite a contract, my lady," the negotiator nervously glanced at the particulars. The Contegorian Confederation had just purchased five years worth of production to be spread out over that same period. It effectively blocked Agamar from entering any other large contracts in that time period but the Confederation was also paying a premium for the privilege.
"As Pro-Consul, I am authorized to deliver the down payment within ten days to a bank of your choosing," agreed his customer and the negotiator nearly clicked his heels in glee. Her government credit chit had confirmed as much. His company's investors would be pleased!
They would be able to use this new contract to expand their own equipment base and operations to the point that such massive requests in the future would not limit them having stock for other large customer accounts. All they needed was a boost like this!
"We have checked your credentials and verified your purchasing power," the negotiator mentioned matter-of-factly and the female in front of him nodded in acknowledgement and started to rise.
"Then, I shall await your instructions on my vessel," the Contegorian Pro-Consul finished, seeing the satisfied look in the other's eye.
~
"Corise, if this does not happen in ten days, the request for the down payment will go through to the government and my original will know what I did and what I didn't do. There will be backlash."
"The local stock markets are projecting large increases because of an early press release of the pending agreement which will not be set until the downpayment is actually made. Still, the stock increase and the press release are sure to get the Imperial's attention."
"The Empire is here?"
"They started a campaign a few weeks ago working to spread themselves into the Hydian Way just as we predicted. With this news hitting the local holonet, their commander will be pressured to seize the world quickly rather than allow the planet to continue to negotiate as a neutral lest their stocks are sold out from under them and nothing be left to supply their campaign."
"Or worse," Thorn remarked lightly, "sold to their enemies."
Corise grinned, "Wouldn't that make their Admiral-on-the-scene's head hurt?"
"The Empire will automatically cancel our contract in favor of having the supplies for themselves to fund their conquests thus negating the need for our down payment."
"Well, the Agamar authorities cannot fault us for pulling out when the Empire takes them over and the Pro-Consul cannot fault us for not having purchased the food..."
The clone of Christina Thorn smiled sweetly as Corise's voice faded away.
"What?" he said, sensing something he said was amusing.
"I did make a small purchase for the Celebration and the shuttle will be making a delivery to us shortly. The Pro-Consul would be pleased with the deal I negotiated."
"How do you know that?"
"Because
I am pleased. This is, of course, a time to celebrate!"
"Sir," interrupted a scanning officer. "Long range sensors are detecting Imperial scout vessels on the far edge of the system. As we are leaving, their signatures are becoming more pronounced. I doubt the planet can see them yet.."
"Not a minute too soon. Send a note to their planetary defense tracking regarding the incursion. Let's not make it too easy for the Imperials, shall we?" The clone of Corise Lucerene grinned.
He truly looks happy! Definitely a time to celebrate!
Expansion
"Sir, to feed our conquests in the region, and force them to capitulate to us, I believe it would be wise to take the regions most important bread basket planet and therefore rob all planets who resist us of their most important food supplier."
"What do you have in mind?" Gilford asked.
"Sir, the planet Agamar is the most important Bread basket planet in the region, and controlling it and its exports would do a great deal in getting the surrounding systems to follow us. Importing enough food to feed all or even just part of a planet from the galactic core would be exceedingly expensive, so they would be forced to at least forced to listen to us, if not capitulate immediately to us if we took it.
"Plus, until more permanent supply bases in the region can be set up, it would allow us to resupply in the region instead of sending valuable ships back to the core worlds to bring up supplies.
"Surprisingly, due to its importance to its neighbors, the planet is almost defenseless. They, as in the planets government, state that they're neutral in all conflicts and accordingly do not need weapons. Of course, if someone
weak warlord or similar scum took the planet in a pathetic attempt to dominate the Hydian Sector, the defense fleets of several dozen nearby planets would rush to Agamar to get their food source back before there reserves ran out and they starved. But against us they wouldn't' dare. Any pathetic effort to take the planet from us would be effortlessly squashed and they'd be forced to, as I stated earlier, to work with us or starve."
"A good plan with good logic," Gilford said, his voice carefully neutral. "You are going to take this planet."
"Of course sir."
~
The group of six met to discuss the new orientation schedule for the latest clones. Already they numbered fifty with more on the way as news of the success of the original six spread quietly through the ranks of the upper echelon of society. There were those that were considered failures in that the GR program did not seem to work with come clones. The scientists thought that perhaps it was a genetic defect that hindered the augmentation of midichlorians that transferred over from original to clone. As a result, some clones were given new identities and appearances and released into the public to live out their lives. So far, there were no clones that 'didn't take' to the program, a euphemism meaning the physical augmentation was successful but the mental integration was not. There was really no way to know how this would manifest itself until a clone (or original for that matter) actually 'did not take' to the program.
Would one go insane?
Would one consider themselves Palpatine reborn?
Most material regarding Sith and Jedi were restricted and Jensaarai were on hand to help the people work out any 'philosophical' issues that might trouble the clones or originals in the program.
"...now with that out of the way, let us talk of the issues with Metalorn." the First Speaker started. "The government is sending out the good Commodore and our very own Pro-Consul-clone," a nod to the Fourth who bowed, "to this world to secure an alliance and submission into the Confederation."
"How can we be certain that Metalorn will agree to Confederation terms?" the Fifth asked.
"Because I know the Prime Minister of the world. Or rather, my original knows the Prime Minister and that will go a long way to smoothing out any wrinkles. The world is relatively stable under their current leadership and the populace trusts their Prime Minister about as well as we can reasonably expect," the Third answered.
"How can we be sure that people will not suspect some sort of conspiracy because of this knowledge?" the Second picked up.
"Because Commodore Lucerne is unaware that an old aquaintance is the Prime Minister of this world. The surprise will be genuine from both parties and will be captured and promoted as a good sign of things to come. It is an
industrial world and anything that greases the wheels of industry will be looked on as a good omen with these people."
"How is it you know about this Prime Minister but not the original Corise?"
"Because I look at a wider range of Confederation reports and intelligence pieces. My job is to be an observer to the Confederation and his job is to be a Commodore. It is my business to know and it is his business to carry out orders with all the efficiency of a Confederation officer."
"And this is going to be the matchpoint?"
"Yes," the clone of Christina Thorn started, "Our diplomacy is still carried out with our warships and the planet under consideration is trying to move the last food stuffs from Agamar which is under Imperial control. Metalorn reserves are low and will want to be fast-tracked into the family, as it were."
"Well, we cannot actually have the Pro-Consul lead the negotiations then. No offense, but she is known to go by the book and with our window of opportunity closing, we have too move fast. The Empire will not be far behind."
The Christina Thorn clone smiled. "No offense taken. I know I can be a pain to the fast-tracking process and with good reason. My original would expect me to go by the book though this is her way of letting me 'do something' to help out after the Agamar affair. Our vessel was nearly fired upon by the advance Imperial units after all. She would not have felt guilty if it was herself out there but, with me, she feels a sense of responsibility. However, I do concur with your assessment. Corise will want to do the right thing first and worry about fallout from the Pro-Consul later and I am sure I know just how to act to remove myself from the situation and give Corise and the Prime Minister time to themselves. I will drown my sorrows talking bitterly about Corise to the Pro-Consul's droids. They cannot even tell us apart." Her eyelashes batted at the Corise-clone and he raised his eyebrows.
"We should have CSIS recommend moving ships in the area once Metalorn is granted acceptance," the Sixth concluded. "It will not be long after that until the beast strikes..."
"... and when it doest strike, it will be sharp, swift and surprising."
The Sixth placed his elbows on the table and looked at the others, "We will need to blunt their spear!"
Shackles of Industry
Commodore Lucerne leaned back in the shuttle chair amidst the sterile environment of the shuttle, the vibrant hum of the ship’s engines suffusing the Contegorian Courage. Crisp refreshing air coursed through the cabin via the ventilation vents. Given the busyness and resulting stress from it, this should be a welcome sanctuary for me. He squirmed a little in his seat as he checked his chrono. Takeoff was suppose to be two minutes ago.
The tread of armored boots began to reverberate throughout the shuttle. About time. He glanced up to see the white-clad Pro-consul warily approaching one of the seats. Behind her, a full squad of the Contegorian Shock Troopers marched aboard, a quartet arraying themselves about each triumvirate member. Christina was several seats in front of the officer. A frown rippled across his face before disappearing behind the cold, professional mask of a seasoned officer.
No smile. No facial recognition or contact. No expression. No chit-chat. No acknowledgement of my existence; something is wrong. Very wrong. I’ve never seen her like this. Corise began to entertain various possibilities of why she was upset. Through their various trips across the galaxy from the Gestalt Colonies to Audacia, the Commodore had appreciated her company, both in a professional and personal way. Her charming and engaging manner often persuaded people to their cause, and moreover, it was not fake like that of so many politicians and salespeople that pervaded the galaxy. Proof of it was in the time they talked within his cabin on the Seraph or the various shuttles whilst they traveled through space. It as if someone sapped her very essence out of her or replaced with an emotionless android. Corise entertained the possibility of Vice-Commodore Shipwright replacing the Pro-consul with one of his Delta units, before vigorously shaking away the absurd notion. No reason he would, no way he could, well, maybe he could. But given our security precautions and that she seemed fine…normal… about an hour ago, it seems a little unlikely. Obviously something has happened within the hour to upset her, but what?
~
“We had a deal with Agamar. We make the machines and droids they need, and they gave us a large stock of grain and foodstuffs that we need.”
“Go on,” stated the Coalition man, watching his former crewmate closely.
“The deal’s off with the Imperial occupation. Our major food source has been completely cut off. We have products tailored specifically for Agamar’s agriculture sitting in warehouses. It’s not public knowledge, but there is likely going to be a food shortage now when the reserves run out.”
Corise frowned. “Can’t you have private traders bring some in?”
“We already are. But few traders are interested in bringing foodstuffs. There isn’t a lot of profit in trading food. You and I both know that; CEC taught us that.”
The Commodore relunctantly nodded as he set down the glass back on the table.
“And it doesn’t help that we have agriculture hardware sitting with nowhere to be. That in itself won’t devastate the economy, but it will be a small setback for the government’s factories. There is a reason we want in Corise,” stated Kriel, rising from the couch.
“The nearest major supplier of food is Audacia, and that’s at least as much of an agricultural powerhouse as Agamar for this sector. You can prevent the food shortage. You can prevent the hunger.”
Corise warily shook his head.
“I don’t understand. I am not the deciding factor of if Metalorn can join the Confederation.”
Kriel looked down at the blue carpeting.
“Maybe, maybe not. You have influence the Confederation to allow us to join fastly.”
“I don’t doubt that the Confederation would not allow your membership even if I didn’t have any influence within it.”
“That may be, but you can make it faster, more seamless.”
Corise frowned. “Forgive me, but I don’t follow.”
“Sure, signing the articles of the Confederation and having them ratified takes at most a day; we’ve been waiting for this. Actually integrating us into the Confederation’s infrastructure to get those foodstuffs that we need will take weeks. We need them soon. We need them now; we just activated the foodstuff reserves hours ago. That’s not public knowledge.”
Corise shook his head. “I can probably arrange through Elder Monoceros to reroute the next shipments of foodstuffs from Audacia to get to you. My home planet can also send some of its products.”
Interlude
Emergency Session - Origin Six
"The mission went as planned. Why the emergency meeting?" the First Speaker asked curiously. They had come in from various locations throughout the Confederation making the timing a bit inconvenient as well as mysterious.
A reason for the emergency had not been given.
"I need to relay something that was not in my report and it is something that I think will affect the overall Plan," the Fourth started and Corise looked at her with growing concern.
"Why did you not relay it in your report?" The Fifth Speaker asked and Christina's clone felt the wariness of the others go up a notch.
"Because if I had, we would no longer be given the freedom of action that we have been granted so far. That we seem to be taking for granted! I needed time to think about it and come to terms with it. It has to do with the Force," she replied causing that wariness to turn suddenly to worry.
"Are you saying the Program is not taking?" the Sixth asked the question that the others were too taken aback to inquire themselves.
"I am saying I was suddenly faced with a situation during the last mission that I had not faced before and that my...my perceptions and influence were not operating at optimum."
Corise clasped his hands together and laid his elbows on the table, "Just tell us what happened, Chris."
And so she told them of the incident during the Metalorn mission involving the soldier Barflos and his intent to murder the real Corise Lucerne and the Prime Minister who had hid in a nearby closet. She relayed how Barflos had taken her from her quarters by threat.
"If not for my value as a hostage, he would have easily killed me," she remarked with remarkable calm now.
Sure, you can be calm now! When your life is not on the line! The self incrimination was evident to all.
She talked of how, during the skirmish, she ran and ended up coming back.
"To get help, more likely," Corise supplied, nodding approvingly as did the others but the emotions from the Fourth felt like sadness.
"No," she disagreed honestly. "I ran because I was afraid. The fact that I ran into Contegorian officers was just fortunate happenstance! No, for the first time in my life, my life as a clone, I was faced with my own mortality. Do you know what I sensed? Do you know what I
saw?"
As the others stayed silent, she slammed her hand down on the table.
"NOTHING!"
"I sensed nothing! I saw ...nothing!"
Her eyes narrowed, "What good is our Plan if we can be picked off at random by anyone wielding a blaster? What good is our perceptions if, at random, we can be killed as quickly and as easily as anyone else?"
"Perhaps," the Fifth Speaker started slowly, "Perhaps the Force was telling you something?"
"Are we Jedi now? Sith? Jensaarai? Do we believe in the mysticism of the Force?" the scorn in Christina's voice was withering.
"In any case, you just pointed out a weakness in our force ability. If we are too focused on the larger picture, we sometimes fail to account for the little things that may have a rather dramatic effect on our plans," Corise interjected, moving past the Fifth's suggestion and the Fourth's scorn.
"But would the Plan be affected by a death of one or two of us if there are others to carry on?" the Sixth asked and the rest contemplated.
"Oh sure, on paper," Christina Thorn's clone pressed, "But that is my whole point. The entirety of our Plan is based on paper. On actions and reactions we are extrapolating from our perceptions!"
She turned to the Sixth, "Pretend we are our real counterparts and not clones! Pretend you are the real Professor and that you are killed in a mugging gone wrong. Sure there is another professor that can come and take your class over. Your place. But it would not be you! Any input, any advice, any influence you might have had is lost in favor of someone lesser. Someone perhaps without the benefit of your experiences and without the same world view. On paper, yes, if I had died, there are other generations of the Program where one might be plucked to be another observer as I but the value that
I...that I bring to this table is lost!
Our counterparts, the people we are clones of live and act in the galaxy at large knowing that their lives may be snuffed out at any moment. We are so removed from this in laying our plans..."
She could see that they were narrowing their eyes not yet convinced.
"... how can we say we are acting in the best interest of the Confederation if we do not place a value on our lives, removed as we are at this table making plans? How can we say we care for the lives of Confederation citizens if we do not value our own lives, feeling we are replaceable? How can we send them into danger if we are unwilling to go ourselves?"
The Second Speaker frowned, "Do you really think it would make a difference to the Plan?"
Christina Thorn smiled grimly, "I
know it would!"
"She is right," Corise remarked, seeing an opening. "I for one would love to be out there on a ship seeing the outworking of our plans first hand. We also need to talk about what we are seeing with the third generation clones.
We have been circumspect in what we say to them, grooming each generation slowly, but the government has set a timetable to make a decision regarding the program. We need to realize that our time is limited in the capacity we are currently fulfilling."
"We also need to develop personal protection skills. If we are going to be taking a more active role, we will need to see how we can use these abilities for personal protection." The First remarked.
"Send that up the government channel. What good is having the Force if you cannot use it to detect personal threats? Who wants to bet the government will give us the training and time to sort this out?" Corise smirked.
"Then we could get the government to sanction our increased activity while training us in the name of research they themselves will benefit from if they decide to join the program. Brilliant!" The Second exclaimed.
"Are we
sure the Force isn't telling us something?" the Fifth asked, with eyebrow raised.
"Which side?" the First joked and they all laughed, one of them with relief.
FORGE
It’s an abandoned Jedi Academy on Almas, directly built above the caverns that house Forard. Almas didn’t have any Clone Troopers on it during the Clone Wars. So when Order 66 was issued, all of the Jedi there were temporary safe, but fled in a hurry in order to not get caught. Most of them were Padawans, some were Knights, and a very few were Masters who refused to fight in the war. Nearly everything there was left in place, untouched for centuries. In any case, it has been abandoned for some time. We’ve been using it as a storehouse for anything Force-related that we could find. For example, those few crates of refined Cortosis that we found in the Techno Union’s old Cortosis Battle Droid Factory on Metalorn are now stored there. We’ve kept its new activities secret, and there is a host of Paladin IIs inside the buildings that are under orders to kill any unauthorized intruder.
~
“Understand this: the wisest and best laid plans will go awry. Nothing can prevent this, not even visions from the Force. And just as often as they will be foiled from your foes, they will be foiled by ignorant fools and simple chance.
You must be prepared their interference. You should not make one plan to accomplish an important feat, but ten. And all of them should be ready at a moment’s notice.”
~
“One day, the sun and the wind argued over who was the most powerful. A being wearing a cloak walked by past them. The sun and wind decided to have a wager of who was the most powerful. They decided whoever who could get the cloak off the being was the most powerful. The wind blew heavily, trying to blow the cloak off the being. But the being clutched his cloak harder. The sun came and cast its light on the being, and because of the fair weather, the being took it off. The sun won. So it is with the art of moving objects.
The best way is not to try and physically force an object to move by your own energy and physical exertion. Rather, it is to make it move with its own energy, and thus not drain you. It is the most powerful, and efficient way, to move anything. With this method, the most powerful force-users have moved massive starships. The Force flows through everything, the animate and the inanimate, the living and the dead, for everything has an energy presence. It is not a physical battle, but rather a spiritual battle of wills. I sense a strong will within you, maybe from your father, or maybe from your intense military training. But either way, it is one of the keys to becoming the best of the Jensaaria. Now, see that crate? I want you to move it by its own accord, and just within this room. I have no doubts that that security droid in the hallways has had enough practice for the day…”
“But how?”
“Persuade it.”
"...if you are trying to persuade someone to your point of view, what do you need?”
"I need to know who they are, their relation to what I’m trying to persuade them to do, and any means of leverage that I could use over him.”
"So it is with the crate. You must understand how it connects and interacts with the Force. Only after you understand its state of being can you hope to persuade or connect with it to make it move by itself.
You must also understand this: the crate does not wish to move. Just like anything within this galaxy, is does not want to be disturbed. You will have to spiritually overpower it, just as you physically overpowered the chest.
It is key to understand that the greatest battles are not those waged with limbs and muscles, but those of the mind and heart. Spiritual warfare can be just as rewarding, if not more so, as those fought with the sword. For when you can turn your enemy into a friend, or save people with your other powers is far better than what any lightsaber hacking can achieve. As for your telekinesis traing,It’s a start. Practice daily. You will get better in terms of power and ease-of-use in due time."
~
"Today, we will talk about using the Force to conceal ourselves from the eyes of the enemy, whether they be people or machines. It is an invaluable power, in fact, one of the reasons that I am able to teach you today."
And so the Origin Six went through a short and intense training program working to sharpen their skills in the Force as the galaxy around them changed to the environment they thought to mold and shape.
Hunters & Gatherers
The plan was a simple one. The small fleet of Imperial warships - backed up by a generous loan from Yaga Minor - was to intercept an expected shipment of foodstuffs en route to Metalorn.
They were far enough from both worlds that they would not be seen, and it was expected that the destruction of the convoy would be both quick and orderly.
Of course, in battle, things rarely were either quick or orderly.
With five minutes to contact, the Commodore ordered the Interdictor to half power. That would yank the Coalition convoy from hyperspace. Mentally, the Commodore went over the composition of his small fleet in his mind: three of the brand new Cayman class Cruisers, one of which was serving as his flag. Twice as many Tiburon class Frigates, flanking their larger siblings. These three groups were arrayed in an inverse V, the better to surround the convoy once it was yanked out of hyperspace.
The Interdictor and its escorts, one of the mysterious EMPIRE ships, screened by a pair of Curiassier Heavy Cruisers.
Any ship present that fielded fighters had launched them, and gaps were filled with buzzing TIE-2s, Defenders, Interceptors, and EMPIRE Superiority fighters. Tucked away at the back of the formation was the Dictator, one of only a handful of Fleet Communications Vessels, designed to jam the enemy's radio signals.
"Commodore! Contact!" The sensor officer called out. Indeed, the enemy fleet was emerging from hyperspace, right in the midst of the Imperial force.
As planned.
"Right. Shields up. Commence jamming. Bring the Interdictor to full.
Open fire."
...
Aftermath
“Citizens of the Confederation, as many of you full well know, the New Order recently raided our civilian merchant marine and assaulted Metalorn. They were repelled at the cost of the lives of our servicemen and the intervention by mainstream Coalition forces. Frankly, it is my belief that we were fairly lucky, or the Empire was not prepared for the valiant resistance of our forces. This is but one foray into our territory. It is neither the first, or nor will it be the last.
Audacia remembers the Vong. Almas, the Sith and Jedi. Kashan, pirates. Forces conquer and are vanquished. Thus the tides of war shall ever ebb. But if we wish to retain our freedom for at least our generation, and hopefully for our children, from these tides, we must be prepared. We must make the tidebreaker wall. We must have our watchkeepers watching our shorelines. We must have the personnel ready to deal with this catastrophe. For the galaxy is the ocean, and the tides are nothing more than the unprovoked attacks of our enemies, whether they be the Vong or the Empire or even less reputable elements. For this we must be ready. For this is what we fight.
...
The group listened to the transmission from Genon as the work of dismantling was going on all around them. The R&D Centers, including the GR Program were being moved to the newly created and rapidly expanding compound on Metalorn.
"Good job on those pulsemass mines," the Third slapped the Second on his shoulder.
The Technologist grinned ruefully. "I should have thought of it earlier. Overlaying algorithms and all that..."
The Third moved on as the Second began to babble more about the mines. The presence of mines in the spaceways would ease the minds of the citizenry but their practicality and effectiveness was something else altogether. But time would tell.
For now, one lived and learned.
Number Two had been accomplished.
He turned to the Christina-clone, "It is your turn now. You and your 'shadow'."
The smile he got back was chilling.
*
NUMBER THREE
"Consort?" the other woman asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Of course," the Pro-Consul continued not noticing the shadow in the other's face as Ms. Thorn began to describe the start of their (her) (new-found?) relationship. If anyone would have seen them it would have looked like two twin sisters conversing, one looking radiant but maintaining a classically tasteful demeanor all the while her voice excitedly describing the situation to another serious-looking and radiant lady... but also ...not a little envious.
Before the emotion of her own built up, pent up longing could come to the fore of her features the Pro-Consul turned to her sister with a gleam in her eye, "How would you like to do me a favor?"
A flash exploded in her mind and the tantalizing prospects of a certain Pro-Consul with a certain Commodore were pushed aside. If it wasn't for the words next out the her sister's mouth, she might have wondered about how nearly a lifetime of carefully nurtured respect and admiration for a man could be so easily dismissed.
"Have you ever met Joran Logan?"
...
She smiled as she perceived the man who initiated the distress signal coming from Ovise One was not the same man who had descended into its bowels.
The success of outsmarting one's enemy fanned the kernel of ambition that began to burn brightly...
And he began to burn with a righteous anger...
All the man needed....
When her sister had left to the Commodore's quarters, her tale finished, the unseen tendrils of the other's purpose stroked the web even as her fingers activated the encrypted government communications device.
All men ever needed...
"Code Epsilon Delta, four-two-seven-three, reissue of command orders to...."
And with that, a Contegorian fighting force of Pegasus Star Destroyers and Cavalier Destroyers were on their way...
...were the tools.
"Shine, Joren Logan. Shine brightly....
...and burn."
The small fleet had gone dark under Commander Lucerne's direction as they closed the vast gulf of space to arrive quickly at the meeting point chosen by the Onyxian Commonwealth for Joren Logan's attack.
The attack plan had been forwarded to him and as far as he saw, it was to take shape in three phases. They had to be a part of the first phase or they would get caught up in the quagmire of fury of what was to come. They needed to be swift and deadly to cross the gulf and penetrate the enemy lines.
From that point on, his mission would be different than the attacking fleet but no less important. Fourth Speaker, the Christina Thorn clone had secured their secret orders and he and Second Speaker were to finally see action at the heart of an Imperial stronghold.
"This fleet manifest boasts quite a bit of ships. It is hard to imagine that this will turn into a disaster and compel us to leave the Coalition. If Joren Logan succeeds, he may just drive his victory in the heart of the Empire." the Second Speaker remarked.
"Or just the opposite. I do agree that the manifest is impressive but how many other battle manifests were equally as impressive? Christina believes she has the measure of this man and I for one have never doubted her."
"Of course not. As humanitarians, we act as one," the Second waved the comment away, intent on whatever technical schematic he was reading.
"One..." murmured Corise as he looked at the chrono.
Bilbringi
Dozens of small pinpricks of light suddenly became very large in the space just outside the gravity of Bilbringi.
Well trained crews instantly initiated the standard order of battle on their vessels. Shields, weapons, and other things were prepared and activated, starfighters were launched. No communication between the vessels was necessary, it was all perfectly executed.
Sublight drives were instantly kicked on and the whole fleet went charging into the system.
~
"This is the Coalition vessel Keerow to all Imperial forces. You are advised to abandon the shipyards immediately and all vessels bearing the Imperial flag are advised to stand down or be destroyed. This is your only warning."
"Maker.." whispered Corise as the advance scans of the system were coming back. The Imperial Fleet was arrayed against them as if...
No. That could not be, could it?
"Order the others to follow Logan's tactical doctrine under Commodore Bektor's command from
Burning Sword. Good luck to all," he motioned to a comm officer. "Are we still dark?"
"Yes, sir. Tactical bursts have been transmitted and we are alternating our approach vectors to avoid standard detection parameters."
"With all the ships Logan has brought with him, I doubt it would matter," muttered the Confederation leader.
The opposing Imperial fleet was impressive, and Logan could almost sense the apprehension from the crew of his ship. But he himself took on a nonchalant look, hoping his example would ease the crew's minds, and at first it seemed to work. He had seen larger fleets opposing him, and this one hardly frightened him at all.
But what was curious was the fact that they seemed to be waiting for him, in typically large numbers. The fleet buildup near Ord Mantell was relatively quick and took no more than a day. The fact that they could have a fleet waiting at the right place at the right time was a bit of an oddity to Logan. Perhaps there was a spy in their midst, or perhaps the Imperial leadership was good at guessing?
"They are sending out orders for Phase One to be implemented." informed a bridge officer and Corise addressed the helm.
"You will have to watch out backsides and follow the second volley closely. The multiple detonations should blind their sensors enough to allow us to slip through. With our dark profile, if they see us they may think us a missile that got through on it's way to the asteroid field."
"Aye, Sir."
Thousands of missiles and torpedoes lanced out from every ship capable of carrying them. Some of the fighters had been modified for that simple purpose, and responded in kind.
Of course all of those missiles would not get through to their intended targets. Some would inevitably collide with the many fighters the Empire had put forth, some would be picked off by the Imperial anti-missile defenses on their ships.
But that is why phase one also called for an instant second salvo from all ships. Another massive salvo instantly followed the first. Some of these collided with fighters as well, but the wholes punched through by the first wave assured the second would be free to move.
The anti-missile defenses were overwhelmed temporarily, and the majority of the missiles got through, although a lot of them were picked off. Nevertheless, most got through, and Logan smiled as the opening shot was fired, and countless missiles went through their bright detonations.
"Wait for it.." Corise droned one as everyone's eyes were riveted to their station responsibilities.
Many were struck by flak fire form the Imperial formation, and these exploded, and their blasts created a chain reaction that left gaping holes in the approaching mass.
Of course, a significant number of missiles made it to strike the shields of the waiting fleet, but this was exactly the purpose shields had been designed for: the initial volley (or rather, what was left thereof) detonated rather uselessly against the shields of the Guardian FDVs, whose shield walls rose invisibly against them, leaving the ships of the line unharmed behind them.
The second volley was more worrisome, or rather, would have been, but for one caveat.
The first salvo had left behind it a fair amount of debris, the remnants of missile casings and burnt out TIE fighters.
What was more, because the second volley followed so closely the first, this debris was still superheated, and as the missiles passed through a number were detonated prematurely.
The Guardians had rejuvenated their shields, their reactive systems proving their worth, and while the second wave suffered even more losses because space between the opposing fleets was now filled with superheated debris, the shields of the defenders could not hold. They shimmered, turning almost entirely opaque for a brief moment, and then faltered.
"Now!" and the Pegasus slipped past the blind sensors and opaque shields with the rest of the Coalition fleet not too far behind.
The Coalition fleet was still coming on strong, charging down the throat of the Imperial defence, but taking fire from all directions as they did. The Imperial ships, by contrast, now concentrated their shield power in one direction against the Coalition fleet.
The battle proper had started and it looked like the forward momentum slowed as the heavies had moved to protect the smaller classes of ships from the Claw envelopment tactic employed by the Imperials. As long as the heavies were indeed 'heavies' (capable of soaking up as much damage as possible) and not a smaller ship designed to take on much larger ships, the tactic would work for the time being.
The ionization of the detonated torpedoes and missiles prevented the rogue Confederation warship from following the battle as closely as Corise would have liked but that was not what suddenly worried him.
It was a thought.
A tremor.
The enemy commander was doubtlessly making comments that made him feel superior to the "Rebel commander". Logan had known many such men, with egos so big it could not fit inside a Death Star hangar bay.
"They are so convinced they are superior...." Logan mused.
"Oh no.." Corise whispered looking at the Second Speaker as he too felt it.
The Coalition fleet continued it's drive into the Imperial armada, bringing the vessels within spitting distance of the medium Imperial vessels, but slightly out of range of the heavies. The large Coalition ships began duking it out, and suddenly the battle was looking more like a battle, Imperial style.
But without warning,..
...The light Coalition vessels, under the command of Line Captain Talzon, suddenly surged forward, bypassing the large Imperial vessels and poring on every ounce of speed they could muster.
Driving straight through to the heart of the shipyards, evading most of the fire directed at them with their agile abilities.
The battle plan was unfolding as the briefing ind