A Young Girl's War Between the Stars [Youjo Senki/Star Wars]

90

A Young Girl’s War Between the Stars90

Anaxes, Pols Anaxes. 34 BBY/966 GSC.

I stepped off the transport, reaching up and briefly adjusting my red beret as Asajj came down behind me. Shifting my bag slightly on my shoulder, I placed a hand on her upper back and pushed her slightly ahead of me as I directed us towards the Republic security checkpoint. The ensigns carrying blaster rifles and wearing arm bands proclaiming them MPs manning the post snapped a salute as they spotted my pips, before one of them spoke into the radio clipped to his shoulder. A moment later, a lieutenant—also an armed MP—stepped out of the small guard post and likewise snapped off a quick salute, which I returned. I felt the man’s attention and interest, but ignored it—that was pretty much par for the course and something I had been getting used to.

“Commander. I’m Lt. Oswald. If you’ll provide your ident chip and your code cylinder, we’ll get you checked in,” the man said, grabbing a piece of gear from inside the office.

“Of course, Lt. Oswald.” Nodding, I pulled the wallet containing my ident chip out and handed him the card. He slid it into the machine as I pulled the silver tube out of the dedicated pocket on my olive uniform jacket and inserted it into the slot on the machine—never relinquishing control of the silver cylinder, as regulation dictated.

A moment later, the machine beeped, lights on it turning green as it produced a hologram of me in uniform. The lieutenant nodded and handed my ident chip back. “Thank you. Welcome to Anaxes, Cdr. von Degurechaff. And your companion?”

“My sister, Asajj,” I prompted, and the shorter blonde produced an ident chip of her own.

He scanned it and nodded. “Ah. A sibling, and you’re the legal guardian. Understood. We’ll send word to Housing and let them know.” Handing Asajj back her card, he sent her a smile. “Welcome to Anaxes, little lady.”

“Thank you,” Asajj returned the smile somewhat awkwardly, earning a chuckle from the man before he turned his attention back to me.

“If you’ll both put your bags on the conveyor, we’ll run them through the scanner and get you on your way.” Pausing, he eyed the beret and sidearm. “But ah, ma’am no offense meant, but I believe that’s out of regulation.”

“Check my service record again,” I instructed, and he raised an eyebrow, before doing so.

“…Transferred from Republic Army from the rank of major. That explains the beret,” he murmured, nodding. “Also, I have to inform you that Anaxes War College is a strict weapon control zone. Only authorized personnel such as MPs are allowed to carry a sidearm, unless there’s an exception, such as parade formation practice. I’ll have to ask you to relinquish your weapon for now. Once you’ve been assigned housing on base, we’ll have it shipped to your residence in a secure lockbox, keyed to your ident. You are allowed to carry it in the city, but you must return it to the lockbox when entering the campus.”

Smiling, he leaned in a bit and quietly added, “However, I know it can be a bit of a pain, transporting the lockbox around. If we don’t see it, we have no reason to say anything.”

I frowned but nodded, undoing the holster and handing the weapon over, holster and all. “Very well. I’ll expect that back in a timely fashion. And thank you for the advice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lt. Oswald agreed, taking it into the security room to put away.

The rest of the security check proceeded smoothly and soon enough, we were through and making our way to the Housing office. As with any Republic government institution, it took them entirely too long to get things sorted and housing assigned. It was late into the afternoon before we made it to the apartment we had been issued—a two bedroom affair meant for small families or officers with a spouse.

“Ugh, that took forever,” Asajj complained as she flopped down onto her bed with a groan.

I chuckled as I began unpacking my clothes. “Trust me, it could have been much, worse.”

Namely, if the security checks had failed at any point. Thankfully, Xana did good work. My head spook had started laying the groundwork for this little infiltration the moment she was informed of my intention to enroll. She, or someone in her employ, had gained access to Republic systems and duplicated then edited my service record to add ‘Tanya von Degurechaff’ into the system. Then they had duplicated and edited Asajj’s identification.

LtCdr. von Degurechaff had been on leave handling a family matter. A death in the family meant she had to take guardianship of her younger sister and had been unavailable for a time. But now she, or rather was back. Family circumstances had forced me to reconsider my career options and transfer into the Republic Navy, which should provide a more stable environment to properly raise and care for a child.

Or at least, that was the story I was using—all backed up by my paperwork, in a few places. Tomorrow, I would enroll Asajj in the local civilian school at the appropriate grade level, then things would be set on her end and I could focus on the coming placement exams to determine what class I would be attending, followed by getting through courses as quickly as possible and learning everything they had to offer.

Rolling over onto her back, Asajj murmured, “It’s too quiet without Allaya around.”

“You could have stayed,” I reminded, but she shook her head.

“Nn. It’s fine, it’s just, this is the first time we’ve been apart, and I can’t even contact her.”

I shook my head. “Calls are monitored. Everything in and out of the system relay is scrutinized.”

Security here was . Possibly some of the strongest in the Republic. Even after all these years of the Republic becoming lax and corrupt, they remembered the value of their navy and naval assets. After all, the navy was how they controlled the rest of the greater galaxy. Without it, they couldn’t enforce their rule and collect taxes. So it and the areas around it had suffered the least amount of degradation in the intervening centuries.

“And I miss my cat.”

Now that, I could definitely relate to. Unfortunately, “Pets aren’t allowed, and a teleporting cat would raise eyebrows.”

“Yeah, I know. Still sucks,” she sighed.

The sound of the doorbell filled the room and I made my way over to check it. Finding that it was the lieutenant who had confiscated my sidearm, I opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

The man smiled, and I could feel the friendly and hopeful feelings radiating off of him, along with interest again. “I brought your sidearm, Commander,” he said, offering up a small, rectangular steel box—along with what looked like a well used leather under the shoulder holster.

“Thank you,” I nodded, accepting the weapon and holster.

“If it’s not too forward, and since we’re both off duty… I was wondering if you wanted to get a meal that doesn’t come from the commissary. My treat? I can show you around the city and the best places to get food, groceries, and everything else you’ll need on and close to base.”

Of course, there was the unspoken implication there that came with those feelings I was sensing. Lt. Oswald was within my physical age range, perhaps a few years older. He was an apparently unattached and conventionally attractive man and I an unattached and somewhat more than conventionally attractive woman. There was the hope on his part that more may come of such a relationship than I was willing to give. I would have to politely shut down any romantic or sexual pursuit before it became problematic, but without burning him as a future contact and source of information.

“As long as you don’t mind me bringing my sister?”

“Not at all,” he shook his head. “I actually have a kid brother about her age, living with our parents here on planet.”

“A local, then?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, and he nodded.

I stood aside and opened the door a bit further. “You’re welcome to come in and have a seat. It shouldn’t take us long to get ready.”

“Thanks,” he grinned.

He took a seat on the small couch in the living room while I made my way to Asajj’s room, opening my uniform jacket and pulling on the concealed holster, before slipping my blaster inside. “Asajj, we’re going out to eat with Lt. Oswald.”

She frowned, sitting up and pulling her shoes over with the Force to slip them on. “Who?”

“The man we met this morning at the checkpoint.”

“Ahh,” she nodded. “Okay.”

I fixed my uniform jacket and we made our way out, the lieutenant standing and sending Asajj a smile, before turning his attention to me. “You know, we’re off duty. You can just call me Gideon.”

“Tanya. This is Asajj.”

With that, we left to go explore the base and the city it was situated in. “So,” I began, deciding to get right into collecting intelligence. “Has it been busy lately?”

“,” Gideon nodded as we walked to the elevator. “Class intake sizes have tripled since the secession was announced and the Seppies started hitting the Tradies.”

“Lots of competition?”

“Yeah. We got a lot of volunteers. Scuttlebutt says we’re building up for something in a few years. Either a response to the Tradies screwing with shipping lanes, or a punitive fleet to bring the Seppies back in line. Maybe both?” Gideon shrugged.

Frowning, I asked, “Shouldn’t we be worried about infiltration? Saboteurs?”

“Yeeeah,” Gideon sighed. “My workload has increased. That’s why we were so thorough this morning, and why we’ve gone to strict weapon controls. That, and the incident in the Senate. The brass doesn’t want anyone getting any ideas… That was a mess. I feel sorry for the poor sods who were on security detail.”

He shook his head. “We’re also subjecting anyone not born in the Core to a bit more scrutiny.” I raised an eyebrow and he hastened to add, “Not to the point of or anything, just… a healthy amount of paranoia. You understand the need, right?”

“Of course. But enough about work for now,” I said as we stepped out into the underground garage and followed Gideon to his speeder. “Where is it you’re taking us?”

The man grinned as we climbed into the vehicle. “A little hole in the wall place. It doesn’t look like much on the outside, ”

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Wilhuff Tarkin stood at the head of a classroom, watching as the students began to file in. He kept his hands folded behind his back and his back straight as he watched them, taking their measure as they entered. The carefree and the serious. The more social already making the rounds and the aloof keeping themselves apart.

As he waited for the clock and the time to start the morning’s first class, his mind wandered back to why he was back here and what it meant.

He had been enjoying his work, keeping his home of Eriadu and the Outland Regions safe from pirates. Though, in the last few years, things had become more busy as it seemed that many lesser pirate gangs had begun moving away from the galactic east, as though something were pushing them out of one area and forcing them to seek shelter elsewhere.

Then, one evening shortly after the galaxy-wide announcement made by the new Suzerain Dooku that a number of Mid- and Outer Rim planets would be seceding from the Republic, he had received a holo-call from a colleague in the Republic Navy—one of his old instructors. There were apparently some concerns about naval buildup from the separatists and internal, very quietly spoken doubts about the Navy’s ability to suppress the upstarts, so some of those within the upper echelons of the Republic Navy were quietly beginning to prepare for an expansion in the Navy’s capabilities over the next few years.

The short of it was, they desperately needed fresh recruits. Loyal, patriotic new recruits to captain starships, whom the Republic could entrust their future to. They wanted him to help shape these minds, to spend a few years training the best and brightest to eat, sleep, and breathe naval warfare tactics.

Wilhuff had agreed, as that was his duty to the Republic and being able to say that he taught at Anaxes, the Republic’s most prestigious naval war college would be a nice feather in his cap to pad his resume—it even came with an immediate promotion to captain. The Outland Region would be well in hand without him for that long, at least.

When he’d arrived—three months in advance of when he was to start teaching, at the request of his former instructor—he had learned a bit more about the position and what, he would be teaching. He and several other instructors were to teach a special group of students. It was a test group, to see if it was possible to get students through the program faster and still retain everything they needed to know to get the job done. The thinking was that it was better to test out a new method of instructing and a new curriculum now, while they were still technically at peace, than having to scramble later when they more people faster than they could train them.

They had spent those three months going over the entire four year curriculum required to turn a new officer into a competent ship’s captain and cut out all the fat. Everything extraneous, superfluous, and not critical to the job of directing a warship had been cut out. The admiralty weren’t with the proposed new curriculum, believing it didn’t honor and instill the proud traditions of the Republic Navy, but for the sake of testing to see if it was possible, they had agreed to allow it.

In order to select candidates for the program, he and the other instructors working on this project had put together a test. A test not just of their knowledge of everything they should have learned up to this point, but of logic, problem solving, critical thinking, and thinking outside the box of standard doctrine. It was meant to create people like Wilhuff himself—future leaders who would make up the great tactical minds of the coming war.

Now, here he stood, waiting for a class of just twenty recruits to fill up. All twenty had scored over ninety percent on the placement test. They were, in theory, the best of the best the new intake had to offer.

A splash of color in the sea of green uniforms drew his eye to a red beret on top of a head of blonde hair. The young woman looked around, then moved to the front row and took her seat, where she proceeded to take out a notebook and pen, before opening a thermos and pouring herself a cup of tea. The smell slowly began to fill the room and Tarkin felt his mouth water at the scent of premium caff and vanilla as she took a sip.

A chime sounded overhead and he strode over and closed the door, before moving back to his podium. One of the two highest ranking students there, a lieutenant commander, stood and turned to the class before barking, “ATTENTION!”

The other students snapped up from their seats and came to attention. There was a noticeable pause as the other lieutenant commander, the blonde young woman took her time setting her cup down before standing and likewise coming to attention. The young man who had assumed control of the class frowned, but said nothing as he turned to face Wilhuff.

“At ease. You may be seated,” Wilhuff instructed, and the class returned to their seats. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Captain Wilhuff Tarkin, and I will be your instructor for Tactics and Fleet Maneuvers.” Looking out over them, he began laying everything out for them. “Look around. The men and women in this room are the very best the Republic has to offer, of this year’s new recruits. You have been selected for an enhanced, abbreviated training program. This program will last one year and in that time, you will learn the essentials of commanding a ship within the Republic Navy—at the end of which, you will be promoted and entered into consideration for a commission.

“You will have, by now, received your syllabi and had time to go over them. For those wondering if there has been some mistake, . The hours will be long—we’ve had to extend class time to twelve hours per day to accommodate the number of courses you’ll be taking. The work load will be difficult. You will be under intense scrutiny, not just from the faculty of Anaxes War College but also the admiralty and eventually, the senate. If any of you feel that you are not up to the task, you may freely leave and be reassigned into the standard course now. There is no shame in recognizing your limits and acting accordingly. However, if you stay, I expect you to not just excel but thrive.”

He met the eyes of everyone there, trying to impress upon them just how serious this was. “In order for this experiment to be considered a success, you must all not just pass but beat the scores of this year’s graduating class. At the end of the year, your final exam will not be given on paper, but in a series of simulated exercises against that class. During the year, both classes will be evaluated and the simulations will be stacked against you. You number but twenty, against a class of one hundred. Make no mistake, the future of the academy and the Republic itself rests upon your shoulders. In order to meet the demand for new officers in what is sure to be a coming war, this program must succeed. must succeed.”

Wilhuff paused, letting that sink in for a moment, before asking, “Any questions?”

There were some looks around the room as the students considered each other. After a moment, the blonde stood, tucking her hands behind her back. “Yes, lieutenant commander…?”

“von Degurechaff,” she supplied. “What are the rules of engagement, sir?”

Wilhuff raised an eyebrow at what the question implied, but decided to ask for clarity’s sake. “What do you mean?”

“This year’s graduating class has clearly been designated as OpFor. They are the enemy and as you pointed out, they are a superior force with larger numbers and more experience. What are the rules of engagement for dealing with this enemy, to ensure we succeed? What level of engagement are we allowed? Digital or physical sabotage? Psychological warfare? Physical combat? Or are we expected to sit on our thumbs and only do our work, competing on a playing field that is set up to favor the enemy?”

Wilhuff felt his lips twitching into a smirk, but quickly suppressed it.

“You may do nothing that violates the rules of the academy and should I learn that any of you have started any physical altercations, you will be expelled.”

The woman considered that for a moment before nodding and retaking her seat. “Understood.”

“Any more questions?” he asked, and another student stood.

“What happens to us if we fail?”

“You will be entered into next year’s second year course and the experiment will end in failure,” Wilhuff explained.

He looked around to make sure there were no more questions and that no one seemed intent on quitting. Nodding, he tapped the controls at his podium and shut off the class’s lights, before activating the hologram projector. “Now, let’s begin with today’s lesson…”

After he finished his two hour long class, Wilhuff left the room to head for the observation room, where a few of the other teachers were watching the students. Instead of having the students move all across campus to go back and forth to classes, for this group they had elected to bring the teachers to the students—that way they could spend most of their day in a single class environment, broken up with fifteen minute breaks between classes.

Wilhuff arrived just in time to catch the audio as LtCdr. Soya stood, intercepting Degurechaff on her way out of the classroom. “Degurechaff, what the hell was that this morning?” the man demanded.

The blonde started to move past, but he put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her. She paused, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me. Our break time is limited and I need the restroom.”

Soya frowned, before reaching up for her beret. “You’re out of uniform—”

Tarkin watched as the shorter blonde caught the larger man’s hand and pulled, turning him around and putting a boot in the back of his knee. Once she had him on his knees, she wrenched the arm she’d captured behind his back and torqued it up, before hyperextending at the shoulder, wrist, and then a finger. Soya hissed through his teeth, his face going red.

Degurechaff leaned in, her lips next to the man’s ear. “Listen to me very carefully, Soya. I have tolerance for petty dick measuring contests. I would have been perfectly content to stick to my studies and not engage, but you chose this. So we’re settling it, here and now. In this class, I’m in charge. You may act as my second in command. Do I make myself clear?”

The man grunted as he tried to get free, and it changed into a hiss as she applied just a bit more pressure on his finger. One of the other teachers quietly asked, “Should we do something?”

“No,” Wilhuff shook his head. “They haven’t crossed any lines yet. Let them establish the pecking order between themselves.”

“Fine. Fine!” Soya grunted.

Degurechaff eased up slightly, but not entirely. The feed almost didn’t pick up what she whispered next. “For the record, touch me again. I have executed men for less.”

Tarkin mused.

Degurechaff released Soya and jerked him to his feet, before turning to the rest of the class. “You heard Capt. Tarkin. So long as it doesn’t break the school’s rules or devolve into a fight that you start, we are free to conduct disruptive operations against the opposing class. Write a short summary of any relevant skills or experience you may possess that would be useful for hindering them. I expect those reports on my desk tomorrow morning, even if it’s just a statement that you’re willing to contribute manpower and follow instructions. After I’ve had time to review them, we’ll meet outside of class hours to discuss plans and I’ll begin issuing assignments.” Pausing, she added, “And remember: if you don’t get caught, you haven’t broken any rules.”

With that, she turned and left the class.

The door closed behind me with a click and I sighed as I pulled off my uniform jacket and made myself comfortable. Asajj looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table as I entered, a frown on her face and books spread out on the table in front of her.

“How was your day?” I asked, looking over her shoulder at the books. It appeared to be one on advanced mathematics.

“Boring,” the girl sighed. “How do kids deal with this?”

“By burning off physical energy with sport, typically,” I murmured, going over her homework and finding everything looked to be correct. “You seem to be doing well?”

“The practical classes are… bleh,” she sighed. “Math is easy. You made us learn harder stuff. Science, physics, all that crap. Easy. History is mind numbing. It’s all, ‘The Republic are the best guys ever and everyone who ever opposed them is the bad guy.’”

I nodded. “That’s called propaganda.”

“Can we go out and ?”

Smiling, I reached out and ruffled her hair. “Yes. Go get changed,” I instructed, before heading for my own room to do likewise. I didn’t have my robes or anything that would give away my identity—nothing that would look suspicious if someone checked my luggage at any point. Instead, I pulled on a set of civilian street clothes—boots, jeans, long sleeve shirt, jacket. Nothing that stood out.

Making sure I had my ID and my pistol tucked under my jacket, I found Asajj waiting in the living room, wearing a similar outfit. From there, we left the apartment and I called a speeder from the taxi service. We had to stop by one of the security offices to let the MPs know we were leaving, then it was out into the city—then past it, into the wild places, not monitored by cameras.

Following the Force, I found a nice spot beside a lake and set us down. From there, I found a nice tree and cut down a couple of branches, trimming them down to the appropriate length.

As soon as Asajj had hers, she lunged at me, swinging for my head. I smiled, my practice sword clashing with hers as we used the Force to reinforce them, making sure they wouldn’t simply explode under the strain as we traded blows back and forth.

“Now, tell me. How was school, really?” I asked as we moved across the terrain, the clacking of our weapons echoing over the surrounding area.

“I hate it,” Asajj grunted. “I feel like I’m wasting my time.”

“You are, unfortunately,” I conceded. “But as much as I would to let you just do your own thing, Republic law states that all children must be enrolled in school. It would cause problems for you to be here, visibly in their system and accounted for, and not attending. It would bring attention we don’t need. So please bear with it.”

The younger girl sighed, even as she locked blades with me. I kicked out and forced her to back off and reset. “I get it. I just don’t like it,” she complained.

I studied her for a few moments as we went back and forth again.

“Did something happen?”

“…A boy stole my lunch.”

I frowned, before raising an eyebrow. Knocking aside her next blow, I tapped her on the arm and she backed up and corrected her stance. “And then what?”

“I told the teacher. Everybody else said he didn’t do it and I was lying, so the teacher believed him.”

Studying her for a few moments, I finally said, “.”

“You said no powers,” Asajj reminded.

“I said no use of Force powers,” I pointed out. “So, do you want to constantly have to deal with this problem for the rest of your time in school, or do you want to solve it once and have it stay solved?”

“Solve it once.”

I nodded. “Then you have two choices for a permanent, non-lethal solution. For the diplomatic option, before class, tell him to stand up in front of everyone and tell the truth and why he did it, and to apologize for being a liar. That will solve it on the administrative end and everything he says from then on will be in question, because he will be a self-confessed liar.”

“And the other one?”

A smile spread across my face and she perked up—and for once, I noticed it send chills down her spine. No, I felt only . That left me feeling a bit proud of the girl. “The nuclear option. Tell him to go climb on top of the teacher’s desk and shit on it.”

Asajj’s eyes went wide, her mouth falling open as she made a disgusted face. “”

“Because the teacher obviously deserves it. Also, doing so will either mean he’s a troublemaker, or a mental deficient. Either way, his reputation will be in tatters and he will no longer be able to get away with anything and it’s highly likely he will be removed from the school. You will just have been the first unfortunate victim of his bullying campaign.”

“I don’t want to because he was a jerk!” Asajj yelled, coming at me with a lunge.

I chuckled. “Then . Why don’t you just try asking him why he did it? If you don’t like the answer, tell him to leave you alone. Either way, you have all the tools you need. I trust you to use them responsibly—or at least to not get caught.”

“Ugh, fine,” the girl agreed. Quieter, she murmured, “If this were Dathomir, I’d have just stabbed him and been done with it.”

I shook my head. Sending her an amused look, I decided a little teasing is in order. “Perhaps he likes you?”

“As if! Why would you steal someone’s lunch if you liked them?!”

I wasn’t sure on the answer to that myself, having never been subject to it. I understood, distantly, that sometimes children didn’t know how to express that they liked someone so they teased them in a way that most would call ‘bullying.’ But it seemed to be a fairly widely acknowledged phenomena.

Shrugging, I caught her practice sword in my hand and nodded for her to follow, so we could practice with the Force. As we went, Asajj asked, “What would you do?”

“What did I do, you mean?” I asked, thinking back to my time in the orphanage in the Empire, then again on Zeltros. “I treated school like a prison. Find the biggest, meanest person there, antagonize him, then beat him up where the teachers couldn’t see. After that, everyone else fell in line.”

Asajj rolled her eyes. “Of course Master would,” she murmured. “So… anything interesting happen at school?”

“Nothing much. I just learned that we’ll likely only be here a year or so.”

“That’s good news,” Asajj cheered up.

“Indeed it is,” I agreed.