Aridia Cluster takeover




A year later...



The roar of the shuttle overhead seemed not to concern the old man staggering by the on/off loading facility of Yaga Minor.


The capital of Bhindi Drayson’s bastion of power was a metropolis of bustling economic activity as Tie Fighter squadrons of the Empire’s famed Black Fleet patrolled overhead.


Everything proceeded according to order. Imperial order.


An order that Drayson, upon becoming Grand Moff, instilled in her Protectorate. Instilled whether the people wanted it or not. And yet all Imperial in nature.


And as was evidenced over the years, the people of the Yaga Minor Protectorate, as in the entire Empire, would soon grow used to the imposed order.


A few more years and the public would learn to love the order, the freedoms of the Old Republic merely whispered dreams on the wind.


It was a very shrewd move of the former Grand Marshall to instill such organization into the Empire for such discipline cuts into a man. It shapes him.


And what people get used too, they fight like mad to protect.


Sure there was a certain romantic notion of ‘change’ but in reality, most people hated change. Get a good thing going and who wants it to stop?


But the same self perpetuating machinery of the Empire that Kaine established would eventually be his undoing.


The old man smirked to himself and watched, holding onto an old cap as another transport lifted off a nearby landing platform and departed just overhead, the roar of the engines drowning out all other noises.

In it’s wake came a slightly older INS officer and the old man smiled. A little older, a bit higher rank.. but still a fool!

It was the age old adage… Tell a story long enough and people begin to believe it the truth. Yet, the same was true of the storytellers. After a while, they too would begin to believe their own Propaganda.


And have the gall to look surprised when they are slapped with the truth.


The approaching man had a icon of the Citadel on his breast and the old man raised an eyebrow in amusement.


Another subtle control lever for their ever growing citizenry. An official religion for the masses. A religion that incorporated many portions of the larger beliefs found in their sphere. With priests ordained through Imperial protocol, the government could control what was said from the pulpit.


Independent religions or cults were either swallowed by the Citadel as new ‘understandings’ were fused into the quasi-conglomeration of faith and tradition.

A stim addiction for the masses to be sure.


"Well, well... if it isn't my favorite news agent." the old man rasped.


"You aren't dead yet?" came the rather sardonic response and the old man inwardly glowed.


"At least you aren't acting like a woman and found some backbone." he growled holding out his hand surprising the news agent. Their last meeting a year ago did not start out nearly so well.


"Did you hear about your hero Kaine?" the news agent started with a grin that drew a scowl from his aging companion. "No longer Grand Marshall and if that ain't news, I don't know what is.."


The old man's estimation of the news agent's progress suddenly fell and he briefly wondered if he should have kicked the younger man in his groin to find out if he still held a pair.


Or did he sell those for the rank?


"Don't believe everything you read in the paper.." he eventually said and motioned the younger man to his side to be escorted to a nearby drinking establishment. He glanced at the stormtrooper standing nearby watching the procession with an alertness that really could not be confirmed given their armored state.


Stepping through the doors the old man took in the odors of the less than orderly establishment noting the different characters mingling, drinking and generally going about their business.

"At least there no fucking drunk Jedi sitting on a bar or sitting on a table looking to make friends. Can't tell you how many times I frequented a bar where some turd of a Jedi sat only to end up in some stupid fist fight, because.." he stressed that word, "..because there always was some fracking stimhead who claimed to be Sith."

He glanced at the other man and grinned, "Funny how frequent that situation happens in the galaxy. BARKEEP! Two Flaming Bothans!"

His grin widened and asked to the news agent loudly, "You want anything to drink?"


The laughter over the old joke told many times in many similar bars with only the names of the aliens changing.


Taking a table in a corner the news agent looked about at the patrons and simply shrugged as if he suddenly found his editorial judgement of the place suddenly no longer relevent which, in fact, it wasn't.


"If you think that I believe Kaine's power has diminished, you are sadly mistaken. He's still Supreme Commander of our Imperial's armed forces and that he's probably the second to the throne of Hyfe if the Praetor was suddenly to disappear."


The old man's eyes widened. "Found out about the Praetor did you? Good for you. You are only about a year and seven months behind in the times."


"The destruction of the tyrant, Macbeth, and the dissolution of the Bastion Conclave's territory holdings sort of took precident."


"And the assassination of Hyfe?" the old man added and the news man shifted uncomfortably.


"There was that..." he ventured but would go no further.


The old man leaned forward, "Do you realize just how close Kaine came to actually becoming the Emperor?"


"You want me shot for treason?" the news man whispered harshly.


"One less faggot to feed off the Imperial citizen's tax dollars." the old man added glibly. "And to think the Citadel granted acceptance to your faggoty way of life.


"A truly progressive religion." the news agent stated firmly.


"No doubt," the old man murmured taking a drink to hide his grin.


"So why did Kaine suddenly lose the Grand Marshall-ship?"


"Our beloved Emperor punished him for fighting a damn viscious war and keeping it quiet."


"Themien War?"


"That one. You see, Kaine did his job but it was costly. And the fact that this 'war' was kept out of Coruscant's (and the Emperor's) respective sights, only gave Hyfe cause to fear the actual operating power of one Simon Kaine." He took another drink, "Besides, Hyfe has never forgiven Kaine for the Jedi Corps and the fact that his fucking Emperor-ship was based on Kaine not standing in his way."


The news agent shifted uncomfortably and the old man barked a laugh. "What I am saying is that Kaine's days are numbered."


"You think the Emperor would execute him?"


"To execute Kaine is to probably move a Protectorate Governor or Grand Moff up in his place which would upset the Empire's balance of power. Besides, it is hard to execute a successful leader in the Empire outright. No, Hyfe will maneuver with this one and perhaps allow outsiders to be brought in. An assassination attempt on our Supreme Commander or... some sort of setup which will ruin Kaine."


"Ruin?"


"At least ruin him in the eyes of the Empire and give Hyfe the reason to put someone more... pliable in his place."


"Do you think Kaine knows this?"


The old man laughed. "I'd be surprised if he didn't. But there isn't much he can do about it. Sometimes life just throws something in your way blindsiding you. Perhaps the Emperor will fall down with a heartattack thus ending my speculation."


"What do you think would happen?" the news agent asked quietly.


"With Kaine?" he old man suddenly sighed. "How the frak should I know? All I know is that it would be the third time Kaine would have been blindsided in life and each time, he is shaped in such a way that determines just how his influence will affect the rest of us."

"Third time?"

"The first was when his mother was maneuvered by Emperor Palpatine into being executed and his father turning rebel. Kaine's life irrevocably changed from that point on. And many people have paid for that experience."


The news agent downed his drink and both men ordered food. "Tastes like putrid jawa but it fills," the old man rasped out.


"The second time Kaine's been blindsided?" the agent asked and the old man looked at him in irritation.


"Do you not remember my tale last year? Guildway War and all that?"


"What has that to do with the price of putrid jawa?" the agent shot back and the old man chuckled.


"You've grown balls, faggot. You need a fair amount to survive in this New Fucking World Order now." the aging man rasped out. "And to think you survived my poisoning."

The other man coughed slightly. "Well Major, I see your cough has lessened of late. And yes, the continued duties of Intelligence ended up being something I failed to see in my future."

"And so here you are, no longer the dog on someone else's leash and alive."

The food arrived and the old man stabbed his cooked meat from some unknown animal and pointed the portion and fork at the other as he talked. But even as he did, the recalled memories caused a bitter sadness to crease his features as a part of his mind truly reflected on just how long he's lived and just how depressing most of it really was. "Anyway, the second time..." he rasped out in a hoarse voice.


The second time...

*



Aridia Cluster ... the past..


Aridian Orbit - Guildway Three



"We remove the pylons in these sections and install heavy cranes to handle the durasteel plating." the Imperial Engineer of the 256th spoke showing Colonel Kaine the intended progress of the project to turn the Guildway station into a shipyard. At Kaine's curious expression the engineer elaborated, "We need heavy cranes to handle the inertia issues. While weight is eliminated in space, there is still mass to contend with and the larger the mass, the more force behind inertia. Imagine having to stop the crane's revolution with a load before striking the ship under construction."

Simon smirked slightly and nodded. The man knew his trade.

"How about the the Guildway field itself. The power generators were already installed but can they be used? Or do we need to fabricate something else?"

The engineer paused. "They were designed to project a field that pushes ships to near light speed between planets in this system. The receiving Guildway Station projects a field to slow down approaching craft so every station has departure and arrival power generators. We will have to fabricate a different type of power generator for a shipyard as the energies are different. But, I would like to propose keeping the short range Guildway generators on the station. You see these areas," he pointed to the overhead holographic map of the surrounding space. "We could station materials in a standard orbit pushed and grabbed by these short range fields. The principle is quite simple. To push and slow mass in space."

"Like an overpowered tractor beam.." Kaine mused.

"Exactly!"

"Then if we were to use these overpowered tractor beams to set inventory in orbit around the yard, we would need to have the field projector to be able to adjust beam direction. As I understand, these Guildway Stations are set in their direction and do not change."

"Given the bulk of the power requirements for a beam that launches ships from one planet to another, they'd have to be. But we are talking shorter ranges. Much shorter ranges on the scale of a few hundred to a thousand kilometers."

"Problems?"

"Labor. We are having to train the people working on the station before setting them loose. Different principles. Ship construction takes place in the cluster on the surface of planets. Not in space. So there are new issues that these people have never had to face."

"Why on the planet's surface?"

The engineer shrugged. "Costs too much to move materials into space for the size of vessels being built. So they keep everything planetside. Remember, smaller ships, no hyperdrive, lessened power requirements make for small power plants to be installed. An accident would not cause quite as much damage as a KDY heavy turbine reactor of an ISD if made planetside."

"A solid point." Kaine agreed. "Very well, Neras, Carry on."

"Colonel."


The Colonel turned to see an approaching soldier and walked over.


"Sir, the shuttle carrying the daughter of the King is on approach."


Kaine nodded at the news and felt himself suddenly nervous.


How strange it is to feel this way. A small self styled smile creased his lips.

How strange and wonderful at the same time.


The news of the death of Ysanne Isard had finally reached the holonet receiving stations of Arcadia, the base of operations for the 256th. Even then, several months had passed since Captain Chandler and his team had left to retrieve the strike cruisers and had failed to return.

Kaine had to consider them lost and it hurt. They were his men and more than that, they were his friends. Having been forged together outnumbered on the rebel planet of Sotel.

The news about the fallen Director of what was left of Imperial Intelligence, the only surviving organization of Palpatine's New Order at least in the public eye seemed to spell out the end of the Empire.

And since, no other news concerning the Empire.

Always, the New Republic this and that. Always, Mon Mothma, Princess Leia, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker and their cronies picked at the bones of the fallen Empire.

And as the months progressed, Kaine found even the sting of that subsiding. The Aridians had taken in the detachment of the shattered Empire as their own, especially after they risked all in support of King Agreon's throne against an upstart supported by one of Kaine's own.

Major Willam and those of his following had nearly won but the King's men and the 256th prevailed.



The demons of the past: the haunting of his early years on Arcadia tamed by his conquest of the planet, the anger at his father diminished by his father's death all seemed to fade the more they were at peace.

The demons that so pushed and fueled his rage across Sotel were silent as they were laid to rest.

Several of his men had married locals and were beginning to integrate slightly into Aridian society even though Kaine kept the Imperial distinction alive. His men signified the best educated and experienced fighters in warfare not dependent on the Aridian's Guildways. He was determined to keep their edge.

But he would not begrudge his men finding happiness.


Not when it seemed there was nothing left to fight for except survival.


He walked slowly to the hanger that carried a person he very much wanted to see.


Mya..

Mya waited anxiously as the starport loomed ever closer. If her heart beat any faster it would have jumped through her skin and onto the durasteel plating. She knew that Simon has been in some rather heated talks with her father regarding the procurement of materials for his plan to renovate the Guildway Station and wondered how he fared.

Simon was no politician like her father and uncle and would simply bull ahead to get what he wanted damning the consequences. And for the most part he had come out ahead but her Uncle had pierced him during his last visit to the palace. It was during one of these 'talks' that the young Imperial had had with her Father and his advisors, in yet another heated round of discussions when her uncle had cut through the ‘what if’s’ and posturing on both sides. He turned to Simon and pointedly asked, regarding the young man’s planning, “To what end?”

And that was the crux of the matter.


In the little privacy that both Simon and Mya shared he had confided (as men did in those circumstances) that he had heard no word from (or of) the Empire. It was as if his mighty government had vanished from the face of the galaxy leaving he and his men suddenly alone.


Were they still Imperials?

Already, his men were courting and marrying local Aridians much to the delight of King Agreon and his brother. By integrating the Imperials, the King could count on their expertise and knowledge serving him without the difficulty of acknowledging them as “Imperials”.


Simon tried to keep his men separated from the Aridians with regards to work and fealty but saw that he was loosing ground on the issue.


So, what was he doing?


To what end was he working?


Was he still Imperial if there was no Empire?


And if he was now Aridian, to what were his efforts given?


The King? Or the creation of an independent state within the Cluster?


Her heart had gone out to the young Imperial as he, with quiet dignity, withstood the multitudes of questions from her uncle, other ministers and her Father. Their questions were brutal and direct but the young Colonel stood stiffly against their verbal onslaught with a coolness statesmen and soldiers alike would envy.


To drive off the stresses of being pulled in all directions, Simon involved himself much more intently in the work of building Aridia’s first true starship construction yard.


She heard a rustling sound behind her and her eyes lowered hiding the irritation that the Agriculturial Prelate had caused interrupting her thoughts.


The man was from Fero and was one of her father’s most staunch supporters. A strange situation as the man had been one of her father’s fiercest opposers in the government only a year ago.

What had changed the man’s mind was something of a mystery but her father never looked a gift bantha in the mouth. While she liked to think the best of people, she couldn’t help but feel a quiet uncertainty in the man. As her father’s opposition, he had still held a warmth and was widely known for his family life.

Now, he was withdrawn, almost cold and his private life evaporated off the grid of popular support.


She pushed the thoughts away as the station loomed ever closer.


She wondered if Simon would show surprise at her presence. She remembered when he first appeared, he was a rather cold fish himself, merely giving her a cursory glance.


She thought him no better than an automaton.


It was that horrible night when the Imperial Major Willam attacked the Palace in his coup attempt that was nearly successful. She'd seen for the first time the passions that raged within the young man as he fought like a devil possessed.


As if war was his only element to live!


It was an aspect that both fascinated and frightened her. And as he fought nearly laying down his life in protection of her and her family she felt something else that, as the King's daughter, she'd never quite felt so acutely.


Shame.


A man she did not know and a man that she didn't want to know gave no thought to dying for her and her family. Suddenly those quiet certainties she lived by were suddenly no longer certain as she began to look at the world around her in a different light.


And so she tried to get to know the young Colonel though he tried to push her away at first. But it seemed the more she tried, the more the man began to lower his walls.


Almost as if she were succeeding on some imagined proving ground.


Simon did not trust easily.


And with men like the Major Willam, she could understand why.


What sort of Empire produced men like these?


"Guildstation Three docking in two minutes." came the computerized voice.


Through the viewport she could see a uniformed figure standing against the clear observation deck watching the shuttle on approach.


Simon!

The Prelate was silent as he stared at the back of the King's daughter as she tip-toed in silent excitement at the prospect of their arrival. His eyes were riveted on her hair style, so much like the way his daughter used to wear it.


With the same innocence.


His eyes drew themselves to the hull plating and they quietly burned.

No longer.


And this daughter of the king was eagerly anticipating meeting the very man that brought the Imperial demons to the Aridian Cluster to begin with. An act that he could not forgive nor forget. Especially since the Major sought to remind him of the fact for far too long.

He was a broken man.

He also had nothing else to live for.


His mind, though pushed beyond it's limit calmly began to dissect the memories of when it was that the totality of his defeat actually sunk in.

When his rebellion with Major Willam failed against the King?

When the Major showed up at his house and had taken to his wife and children with all the care of a master sadist?


Or was it when, after a year of use, Willam and his men discarded his daughter's battered body into the courtyard of the Agricultural Compound, now Willam's unofficial fortress?

He remembered being ordered to meet with Willam and walking through the courtyard and coming across her thin and frail and very dead body. Tossed out with others that Willam's machinations used up and wasted.

His wife and son had gone six months earlier.


And now his entire family was destroyed.



The jolt of the docking clamps shook the craft slightly and the ship's ramp began to lower, hissing into the pressurized landing bay.

Standing to the side was the Imperial Colonel!


Did he know!??


But the man saw that the young Imperial's eyes were looking at the King's daughter in front of him.


She was almost giddy nearly running up to him and hugging him in a display that the King would surely have disapproved of.


Simon Kaine nodded to Prelate Kreen almost absently as his eyes took in Mya's brightening features as she saw him.

He was surprised by the passion of her hug and knew that if her father was around he would be experiencing the King's stern gaze.


At that moment, however, Kaine wouldn't have cared.




Prelate Kreen bristled at the mere dismissing gaze of the Colonel. As if he was of no importance and as he stared at the couple hugging and laughing the King's daughter suddenly became his own.


She should have had the happiness Agreon's daughter was having.

She should have had the same chance to love...


Did she not deserve it just as much?



A bitterness took hold of the man and his eyes hardened as he located the appropriate transport conveyance and left the deck for the interior of the station.




*


"Mya.." Kaine drew her aside allowing the other passengers to disembark without them standing in the middle of the walkway. "You took a chance coming here." he started off, slightly worried. "Your father is taking a political beating with the moderates on Aridia and this move could be seen as a flat endorsement..."

Mya put her finger on Kaine's lips silencing him. "I don't care what others make of this. My father will deal with his issues but I feel we must deal with ours."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "We have issues?"

A smirk threatened to appear on Mya's face but she managed to keep her face serious. "I have been thinking for a long time. I know it has been hard for you to be a part of us... and I know my parents have not been making it any easier and neither have I."

Kaine began to object with polite lies when she pressed her finger against his lips again. "Let me finish." she said, drawing an amused expression from Simon. He nodded and she took a deep breath.

"Which is why I have decided to become 'Imperial'. I will renounce my standing if that is what it will take..." and her voice trailed off, her courage fleeing.

Simon stared at her in surprise, not expecting the move.

Her nervousness turned into annoyance at his silence finally. "Well, say something!" she nearly growled out, not able to take his lack of speech.


"If that is what it will take to do what?" he finally asked and her mouth dropped open. Whatever she had thought he would say, it certainly was not that! Could he be so blind? She tried to speak but no sounds would come. She did not know how to handle this response.

Her eyes focussed on Simon just long enough to see his spreading grin and if a blaster was within reach, Simon Kaine would have been vaporized instantly.

In fact, her arm did raise to pummel the Colonel when his hands came out holding her and he whispered, "You will never know how much I appreciate your offer. But ..." and her heart began to sink...


"... I already have applied for Aridian citizenship."


...only to soar.


He smiled at her and her eyes began to water.


"I love you, Mya.." he whispered and she began to cry, a release of pent-up emotion finally breaking through.





*



The double doors of the construction platform opened and Prelate Kreen followed the excited Aridian as he went on with his tour. The Prelate's eyes widened in surpise at the gargantuan ships taking shape in the station's dry dock corrals.

"The bastard is farther along than we all thought!" he mumbled to himself.

"Do you like them?" the Aridian tourguide asked with apparent joy. "They should be ready to launch sometime next year..."

And the Prelate felt like he had been dealt a blow.


And everything fell into place.


Why Willam had handed him what he did and why he was allowed to come to the station.


She was dead.

But she could be avenged!


And perhaps... Just perhaps there might have been some meaning to his daughter's death after all.


And with a despondency born of circumstance, he knew what he had to do.


Perhaps there would be some meaning in mine as well...

Simon stared into the mirror looking at the face of a near stranger. Vanishing were the lines of conflict, the worries of strategies and the anxieties of caring for his men.

The lines around his eyes softening with the comfortable life they were living among the Aridians. With no word from Captain Chandler for over a year, no word on the status of the Empire as the New Republic ate up the crumbs of the pieces that once represented the most powerful regime to inhabit the galaxy, there seemed no point to continuing their warrior stance.

War with no perceivable goal to achieve was merely waste.

And Kaine was not one to waste the lives of his men.


It seemed destiny had different plans for this one-time self consumed man of the Empire.

His mother executed according to the word of Palpatine (and hence the Empire) for the betrayal of his father. His childhood on Arcadia living like a wild animal and subsequent reeducation on Corellia and entrance into the Imperial Academy ...

..to Sotel where he destroyed his father.


All for an Empire that had vanished.


There was nothing left but to live for self.


And he had to admit, looking at a holopic of Mya, that a life without war was something to very much be desired.


He looked at his Aridian dress uniform, so much more comfortable than an Imperial uniform. Today, the 256th would be indoctrinated into the service of the Aridian Empire and pledge their loyalty to King Agreon.

They would have a home once more.

Let others fight for the fate of the galaxy for my life is here. Let me simply fight for a life.

Simon's trademark expressionless face, his cold features and dead eyes were a thing of the past. His eyes held a kernel of warmth and he felt a contentment that he had all but given up on.

He was officially courting the King's daughter and before any thought to a wedding took place, this indoctrination needed to happen.


Aridian tradition would hold for nothing less. And when he thought about it, it was not an unreasonable request nor one that he felt any great anxiety about.


First the ceremony, and soon, a wedding.


Married!


The young Colonel grinned ruefully to himself as he finally turned from the mirror toward the waiting Master of Ceremonies.


Soon!







Aridian Orbit - Guildway Three



Major Gordon Sveli looked at the communication officer with surprise.


"An Imperial code?"


"That's what it looks like, Sir. The bursts were coming from a device set in our generator room.."

Major Sveli frowned. "But a burst to where? The Empire is no more."

After a moment of thought he ordered, "Triangulate the position and we'll see if we can get a shuttle out that way for a look. It could be a criminal element using the code."

"Sir, the cryptologist did not think it was a message of any sort. More like a beacon."

The Major nodded. "Given that the transmitter was set up without our knowledge, we have to assume hostile intent. Send a transmission to Arcadia and put them on alert." And as an afterthought, "We should probably notify the Aridian Military just to be safe."

The Major grinned to the other officer, "These new Aridian protocols are a pain. We have to show these people the true meaning of efficiency."


"Sir!" came a shout from the tracking station, "Tracking shows multiple signals outside the Guildway!"

Outside the Guildway meant hyperdrive worthy vessels. Non-Aridian.


But hostile?


Sometimes the occassional trader or merchant moved into the system looking for new trade lanes. But the numbers tracking displayed were more of the order of a convoy of some sort.


Or a fleet.



"Let's find out who they are before we interrupt the Colonel's ceremony." Sveli commented, handing back a signed report to a nearby administrator.

*

"I'm telling you, Zsinj. These people are ripe for the raping! They have the resources to help your cousin rebuild, manpower for the needed slave labor, and more importantly, a shipyard!"


Willam calculated that the last bit of information would be the spark that lit the fire under the rather rotund relative of the famous Warlord.


"Shipyards, you say?" Zsinj replied contemplating.


His dear cousin would pay a premium indeed!


And so his small but adequate force embarked for the unknown regions and to the coordinates Willam had sent.


"Lord? The planet is requesting a statement of intent." came an intruding comm officer and Zsinj glanced at him in irritation.

According to Willam these backward folks were dependent upon something they called a Guildway. Path's of energy that kept ships on a singular path from planet to planet in this quaint little system.

Willam had better be right!


He smiled a grim smile stroking his thin beard.

"Attention Aridian Empire. This is Ceric Zsinj, cousin to the Warlord Zsinj who demands your immediate and unconditional surrender. Failure to compy with his wishes will result in our bombardment of your cities until you do surrender.

You have fifteen of your minutes to comply."


Bold. Direct. To the point. No room for maneuvering.


These primitives were his!

An entire minute passed as Major Sveli and those nearby stood in shock at the annoucement. And then, everyone began scrambling.

"Shipyard Control, launch the ships!" he ordered, relaying the secondary information to a nearby Private.

"Command, say again? These ships got no engines!" came back the reply.

"Guildway 2. Use the tractors to shuffle them to Guildway Two! We've got a fleet outside that has not looked our way. If they do, they'll blow us out of space! There is nothing we can do here but die! So everyone... evac to Guildway Two... the planet should block their sensors..NOW MOVE!"

Fifteen minutes was not a lot of time.


*

"Colonel Simon Kaine, I accept your offer of fealty and ..--"

Everyone turned at the sound of running steps. Some in surprise, some in annoyance and some in anger for they had interrupted their King.

The grounds was suddenly crawling with military men and Kaine noticed the leader of the group moving directly for the King. The King, not one to wait for anything, met him halfway and they both began speaking in hushed tones.

The King seemed to go white at something the other man said and Kaine tensed. It was not good news.

Agreon suddenly motioned the man away and they soldiers began to direct the audience elsewhere. The ceremony was over.

"Simon." The King had walked over to the young man and put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you know a man named Zsinj?"


And it was Simon's turn to turn white.



Zsinj! The Warlord!


He had survived!


"How far out is he?" Simon asked, his mind beginning to already accept and reject the plans forming in his mind.


"Far out? He's outside Aridian Orbit threatening to level our cities unless we surrender!" The King suddenly cried out.


Kaine's plans suddenly evaporated.


"Could we launch your .." the King began and Kaine knew where he was going.


"The ships do not have the engines installed. They would be sitting targets. In fact, I am surprised Zsinj hasn't blow-..." Simon suddenly stopped.


The shipyard!


He's after the shipyard!


How did he know?

*



Fifteen minutes.


On the grand scale of time, it was but a drop into the bucket of infinity. And yet, when measured against an end of that which you held dear, it was a lifetime within itself.


Fifteen minutes before an entire city was vaporized as if it had never existed. Fifteen minutes before countless lives were snuffed out.

Fifteen minutes to act.

And what actions could be wrought within that time frame?

On the one hand, if one wanted to preserve the current order of things, defiance became the logical decision. An acceptance of the cost that defiance invariably would bring. In this case, the deaths of countless thousands as Zsinj's fleet would open fire on the planet below. It was simple numbers. The entire Aridian Cluster against whatever ships Zsinj would have in his attacking fleet.

And those numbers would not be great!

They would not have the numbers for dropping troops into the capital. They couldn't! If they were willing to pay the butcher's bill, they could hold out until the attacker's stores ran out. The rest of the Cluster having been warned would have their orbital ships ready to defend the other worlds.

And Simon knew that Zsinj had greater worries than some backwater, out of the way system to contend with. That greater worry being the New Republic's hunt for them.

If he could not have a quick and easy victory, he'll be forced to leave!



All of this flashed across Simon's mind in the brief few seconds he spoke to King Agreon.



But that mean't factoring these people into one's mind as mere numbers. Not names. Not aquaintances. Not friends.

Not lovers or wives.


It was different in leading soldiers. Even soldiers that were friends. Soldiers were trained for this sort of work. Soldiers were trained to follow orders and even die if necessary. That was their function in working for the greater good. Most soldiers entered this profession knowing what may be asked of them down the road. And if they didn't, they would soon understand.


But to sacrifice civilians who had no such understanding? Who had no such training? Who had no such knowledge of this death-dealing work?


Simon's gaze found Mya in the crowd, her own eyes filled with worry. But also with trust and he felt that trust as a knife twisted into his heart.

The military strategy was crystalized in his mind and he had a course of action open. Brutal and as costly as it was.

But his heart was already rejecting that idea.


For there was another side to the equation. One that danced in his mind as he knew was also dancing in the mind of the King.


There was a chance the destruction...the deaths.. would be spared if they merely surrendered.


Surrender and Zsinj would take the third guildway and shipyard. But Aridia would be spared and the warlord would not have the numbers for a permanent presence!

Buy time.

Extend that fifteen minutes!



It was a move that went against this thoughts and played into the desires of his heart. If they surrendered they would never be as vulnerable as they were now.



But something still tugged at his mind.


The King was issuing the correct orders in having their comm systems spread word of their predictament... ordering air traffic grounded... to ordering military bases all over the planet to alert.


But these were the minor decisions made in the interim as the mind went through the options of the pending major decision.

The answer to the attack fleet's demand.


"Simon," Agreon captured the young man's attention as he was issuing orders to his men planetside and he turned to his future father-in-law. "Are they bluffing or will they exterminate a city?"


Simon pressed his lips together. Military doctrine assumed that such threats were real and planned accordingly. One never assumed the enemy bluffed. But it was also military experience that told him that bluffing was as much a military tactic as much as fighting.

If they capitulated to a bluff, Zsinj would have captured quite a boon without firing a shot.

"We have to assume, Sire, that they are not bluffing." Kaine answered truthfully.



Fifteen minutes.


Just enough time to find out just what sort of person you are. Just enough time to know how far you are willing to go to protect your pride, your ideals, your government, or your people... your friends and your family.


It was the same maneuver he had used against his father, he suddenly realized. On Sotel. Outnumbered, outgunned and ill supplied and equipped, he had stolen a march across the desert to threaten the capital city.

Rather than build up a defending position behind which his smaller numbers could defend against his father's larger armies, he had not allowed his father time to combine his numbers from each region and slipped around the forces to attack the civilians who had instigated the rebellion against the Empire.

In his mind, they had been the culprits that simply utilized his father's services as one did a mercenary.

His father's force was about equal to his and he could wait to augment those numbers as they were joined by forces from other regions and let Kaine level the capital cities sacrificing the citizens to the cause of the Rebellion or he could change direction to protect the citizens giving his son even odds and let the pieces fall where they fall.


If his father were the true military general people had thought of him he would have simply sacrificed the citizens and confirm his eventual victory by taking the time to raise a larger force to destroy his son. But Simon knew the Rebellion soldiers were full of bleeding hearts. Or so the Imperial military thought and would protect the people.


But now?


Now Simon's eyes looked across the hall seeing people he knew personally. People he admired and people whose qualities he was encouraged to emulate.
He saw people he loved and suddenly, they were not numbers.


And he had a hard time keeping the cold military logic of what was necessary in his head.


Could I sacrifice these people?


Could I sacrifice Mya?


And as soon as the question was asked he knew he could not.


And a sudden guilt formed over his maneuver against his father. Were the civilians on Sotel people his father had known? People he had come to respect and love?

Those people Simon had threatened with destruction.


And a bitter despair at another thought set in. So, given his fleeing Imperial Center leaving he and his mother and to face Palpatine's harsh laws indicate that his father really didn't love them?

Fearing so and knowing so were two different things and though he thought himself over it, a sudden heaviness crept into his heart. To come to realize that his father didn't love him....or at least, not as much as he loved the people of Sotel.


Such thoughts hurt.


He looked at Mya determined not to hurt her as his father had hurt him.


Fifteen minutes.


The length of time to take a measure of man.


Simon felt tired in his soul. He felt truly defeated though he knew the decision was not up to him.

It was his fault.

He had brought the warlord here.


He couldn't ask them to die for the utopia he dreamt of inside his head.


He started to open his mouth to advise the King.


Surrender




Fifteen minutes.


For an epiphany.


"No surrender," the King said with hard eyes.

At the same time Mya, who had come up to stand next to Simon whispered, "No surrender!"

There were murmurs among the gathered crowds.

"No surrender!"


The words spread across the masses with an energy of it's own and Simon's eyes widened.


That defiance.


Reminiscent of the Rebel Alliance and their Rebellion.


And in that moment, surrounded by the people he loved and knew loved him, he added his agreement to the chant, throwing his arms around Mya.


I've truly become a Rebel... he thought with no small wonder.

"No surrender.." the old man whispered and the INS man looked up expectantly at the other.


The tale-spinner saw the look and started to bitterly laugh until he started coughing. "Don't give me that look! What do you think happened next?"


"They stood together and..."


"..and defeated Zsinj?" the older man asked incredulously, letting the laughter come over him. "How?" The laughter was truly annoying the INS man now.

"Well...!" he started angrily his eyes searching for an answer that he evidently could not find.


"Magically whipped up an navy? Magically pulled Zsinj's ships from space? Magically made all their enemies vanish?" the man asked helpfully, cackling.


"But... but... It's Kaine." the other weakly added.


But that only drew the scorn from the older man. "What? You think he was some tactical genius that popped out of his mother? Some infant brainiac?" He started to laugh all over again and the INS man thought of standing up and leaving. It was a fleeting thought for the tale had captured his interest once more.


And what was worse.


The old codger knew it!



"Kaine was, back then when he was a pup, what the Coalition's greatest minds are now. A person who couldn't see past their kriffin noses. Just jumping into action not counting the true costs others have to pay for their blind ideals." The old man stopped. "Everyone has their beliefs but only a fool charges ahead without the strength to support them. Kaine, in one moment, forgot about the lessons his life had taught him. In one moment, ignored what must surely have been screaming in his mind."

The old man sat back, the chair creaking, and chuckled again but this time without mirth. "Ah... the power of love."


His eyes suddenly went dark arresting a glance from the other. "Fifteen minutes that will never be repeated! Fifteen minutes that decided the galaxy stage for the next two decades and perhaps beyond! The Azguard's couldn't find their underwear in fifteen minutes!"


"What are talking about?" the INS man asked irritated. "With what you've told me, I don't see.."


"KAINE WAS OUT OF TIME, YOU FOOL!" the old man wiped his mouth to stifle another cough, "He had seen a threat and began to address it."


"The system's dependence on these guildways.."


"You're not such a fool after all! But you are right! Except Kaine could not get the shipyard built fast enough.. he couldn't get ships built fast enough. Always hampered by the primitive thinking of these Aridians!"


"And his focus wasn't exactly on the task at hand anyway.." the younger man interrupted and the old man nodded approvingly.


"Kaine was kriffing stupid! I find it so amazing how his monumental rise to power now has only been matched by his monumental stupidity back then!"


"I still don't understand.."


"Then listen! Why do Jedi hate Sith?"


The switch in subjects caught the other by surprise and he stared blankly at the old man. "The Jedi believe in reigning in their emotions but, unfortunately, they are emotional creatures and so they subject themselves to a frustrating and ultimately futile task of denying their nature. The Sith, on the other hand, let loose that control. They ride their waves of emotion and allow their selfish hurts fuel their strength (such as it is). With Kaine's mother's death, with his father's perceived betrayal and with his harsh childhood, he had alot of pent up rage and raw anger. It made him strong. It made him clever and he was good. But not good enough. Not when you begin to play on a galactic level."


"He lost." It was not a question.


"Zsinj had all the cards. Even a few trumps that Kaine and the King did not know about."


"Major Willam."


The old man smiled. It was not a pretty sight. "It is clever to leave your options open. But you never leave your options out of sight. You never leave them out of mind."


And in the silence that briefly followed, the older man moved closer, "The King and Kaine took stock in the fact that they believed it was Zsinj against the entire cluster. That bolstered Kaine's slide into stupidity because he did not realize what Major Willam figured out upon arriving there. That Aridia was the most important part of the Aridian kingdom! Willam had prospered on another world within the Cluster using the Prelate to his own designs destroying that man's family but even he knew for his plans to move forward, to actually checkmate a blind Kaine he had to be on Aridia at the closing act."



"The threat from within.." the INS man whispered the pieces falling into place and the old man barked out a laugh.


"Guess who was in the crowd when the King and his family, when Kaine, all mouthed their oh-so-noble, their oh-so-heroic and dramatic 'No Surrender'?"


The old man's laughter sprayed spittle across the table but the other did not notice too wrapped into the story.


"Zsinj knew their response before the King gave it!" the old man was holding his sides as he talked though wheezing laughter. "A city was leveled at the ten minute mark!"


"The King was issuing emergency orders and these people were starting to get together to organize but the loss of the destroyed city kept them off balance. And in the confusion, Major Willam struck.

Zsinj slid the knife into the belly and Willam cut off the head. The Aridians could have resisted but they had no time to mount any sort of defense."


Fifteen Minutes.


"At the end," the old man's eyes grew wistful, "King Agreon was dead. His wife and most of his children... Kaine captured as well as those of the 256th with him though most were on the shipyard. In the next fifteen minutes, Willam forced some noble official's boy onto the throne and Aridia formally surrendered."



"THAT COULDN'T HAVE BEEN IT!?" the INS man shouted appalled.


"It happened so fast that it took a while for the ripple effect to spur action but every force sent from the rest of the cluster to Aridia was blown out of space by Zsinj's ships. They sat off the guildway lanes and blew them away as the other ships could do nothing until the Guildway stations slowed them down and let them go. The people on Aridia tried several uprisings but Zsinj simply bombarded another city and the rebels were punished mercilessly. The problem was, as harsh as this was, the occupation was not a bad one. Willam and Zsinj did not have the forces to occupy and so the people were mainly left alone. And if they simply gave their conquerors silent approval, they were left alone. In the end, civilians simply like being left alone."


"And Kaine?"


The old man smiled sadly. "Ahh.. Kaine."

*



The splash of water against his head drew him out of his unconscious state and the first thing he knew was pain. Incredible pain. The side of his head was slick and he felt a slow trickle slide down his cheek and drip off his chin. He heard steps retreat into the foggy distance and a large clang of a door closing.

He was suspended from the ceiling by his arms, steel shackles set around his wrists, digging into his hands as his weight was suspended.

He found that if he moved his legs he could stand up relieving the stressed muscles in his shoulders. Opening his eyes he saw he was in a small stone cell, the old dungeon that the King had joked about having under the palace. He'd never seen them but he assumed that was where he was.



The people were moving about being ordered to go back to their homes and the leadership was gathered around King Agreon as he was issuing orders to begin their resistance to Zsinj's ultimatum. He had left Mya who was going to rally the city civil corps to prepare the people for...

For what?

He had turned away from her intent on moving to Agreon when blaster fire had started to erupt from behind him catching the royal guards and retainers by surprise. Someone must have had a rocket launcher or something more powerful for the last thing he remembered was being thrown from the steps and losing conscious.

There was a flicker of an image has he laid there just before darkness claimed him of people frantically running.


What had happened?


He coughed and the motion hurt as his head spun. He found as he moved his legs that his legs were also shackled. He would not be able to move very far at all and if he lost his strength to stand, he's be hanging one more from his wrists.

He tried to calm himself to stave off panic trying to assess what he could despite the distraction of pain. There was a lot of dust in the room and he knew that it had not been used in probably centuries.

A voice broke through the images in his mind and he looked up only to stare at a pair of eyes looking at him through a small slit in the door.

He tried to squint and as his vision cleared the eyes became recognizable. He fought to push down the sense of despair that began to well up from within.

"Willam." He tried to talk but his voice came out as hoarse croak. He had missed whatever the Major had said before.


"Simon." the eyes replied.


He coughed again and simply waited. It was the hardest thing he ever had done. To remain silent when his mind began to crowd with questions upon questions, demands and threats. To give into the overpowering temptation would only weaken himself in the other's eyes. That was all he had since his position was about as weak as it could get.


But the eyes drew away and a cover slid over the opening separating him from the outside world.


A brightness poured through his eyes as he tried to pick himself from the pavement. He was too disoriented and he simply rolled over. Everything seemed quiet and as his eyes adjusted to the smoke and debris he saw that there was fighting going on. He realized he had been knocked deaf from the explosion and he found himself surrounded by dead people, some he vaguely recognized and others he didn't.

A hand went to a nearby step and he began to crawl on his knees slowly up the steps. The outlines of figures in the distance were moving about and he could see the flashes of blaster fire. He tried to blink his eyes to focus and as he reached the top of the steps he looked into the dead eyes of Sasha.

Mya's little sister. Her mouth was slightly open as if she had seen what was coming. As if she had seen what had killed her.

Her delicate features were marred by the thickening blood around her body and he felt tears well up. She was the King's youngest and his daughter was taking great pride in how she handled blasters in practice and in her scores in the shuttle simulator. She never let her youth hinder her from trying the things that usually caught boy's attention. A tomboy at heart.

And now she was gone.

He reached over, his head resting on the pavement, laying across the steps and closed her eyes.

His dirty cheeks were tear stained and began to turn sensing motion behind him.

There was someone coming up the steps and they were shouting but Simon could not hear them. Perhaps they had been shouting for there were weapons leveled at him.

As his eyes adjusted once more he felt a sharp pain across his head and lost consciousness once more.


He looked at his right arm just under the wrist and saw the remains of Sasha's blood smeared across.


It was no dream.


It was a living nightmare he had come too.



The questions in his mind were starting to pound against his silence. The lack of information like an overwhelming thirst that he could not quench.


The reality pounding against his mind as frantic as his thirst for answers was the fact that he was defeated. Totally. Utterly.


He was powerless to stop what had happened and he was powerless to stop what was happening.


And in that despair, remembering Sasha, tears came through the tattered remains of his reserve.


He broke down and cried bitterly.