Chương 107: Chapter 101

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away… Eight years since the fall of the Old Republic, the Confederacy of Independent Systems now reigns over the Outer Rim. Relentless in the pursuit of their own national mythos, they have flung their fleets and armies across and beyond the untamed frontier. After years of resistance, the many worlds of the Tingel Arm have finally surrendered. With each planet's conquest, the Confederacy's own zeal only grows even stronger.

The latest to fall under the Confederacy's Third Expansion is the isolated mountain planet Jelucan, whose citizens hope for a more prosperous future even as the Separatist starfleet gathers overhead. ⁂ JELUCAN A ship sliced through the shale-grey sky overhead, so quickly it was little more than a line of light and a distant screech almost lost in the wind. KYWMAR SECTOR

"That was a Maxillipede-class shuttle!" Thane Kyrell pointed upward, standing upon the tips of his toes, as if it gave him enough height to reach it, "Hey, Dalven, did you see that!? That was definitely a Maxillipede!" His older brother hammered his skull with a fist–not very forcefully, but definitely not lightly either, "Shut up! How would you know? You're too little to know. It could have been a Sheathipede." OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

"No," Thane insisted, stomping his feet, "I saw two dorsal fins! It couldn't have been a Sheathipede. It's far away now, but that was definitely–" Dalven stiffened, and Thane prepared himself. Dalven never hit him very hard whenever their parents were nearby, but those lesser shoves or punches often forewarned of worse to come later. But the strike never came; Dalven glanced at the two long-robed figures on the road ahead, and harrumphed.

"Just keep walking, idiot," Dalven sniffed, clearly embarrassed Thane could identify the ship he couldn't, "They all look the same from far away anyway."

"Children, come along now!" their mother shouted at them when she realised they were no longer right behind. Not that she stopped for them, so concentrated she was on lifting the hem of her saffron-silk dress so it wouldn't drag in the dust of the cliffside road, "I told you we ought to have come by repulsorcraft. Instead we're wandering down to Valentia on foot like valley trash." She was talking to their father, Oris Kyrell, who replied with a grunt, "No–all of Jelucan will be in Valentia.

There will be thousands trying to land whether or not they got a reservation. Rather we suffer a little now than spend the whole day fighting over the pads. Besides, the boys can keep up, can't they?" Dalven could, already skipping up the road to rejoin their parents. Thane's older brother was twelve-years, long-limbed and proud to tower over his little brother. For every stride he made, Thane had to make two or three.

Dalven only had four years on him, but Thane was shorter than most boys his age, with large feet and hands that made him look awkward. His blonde hair was reddish in the mountain dust, and it stuck to his forehead with sweat. As he struggled to keep up, he wished his father had let him wear his favourite boots instead of these shiny new ones–that pinched at his toes and chafed at his heels with every step.

Not that he would have let anything make him stay home, not these stiff new clothes or difficult trek or even the bullying of his older brother. Just for the chance to see real spacecraft, real starfighters and shuttles, even– and he hoped dearly –corvettes and frigates, Thane could suffer much worse than this. Because Jelucan didn't have anything like that, the most they've got are clunky old atmospheric ships like the V-171.

The galaxy was finally coming to Jelucan, and all of Jelucan would not miss it for the galaxy. Thane included.

"We should have left Thane at home with the housekeeper droid," he could hear Dalven saying as he caught up, in that sulky voice of his, "He's too little for any of this. One more hour and he'll be whining to go home."

"I won't," Thane insisted, "I'm old enough, aren't I? Mama?" Ganaire Kyrell nodded absently, "Of course you're old enough. You were born the same year the war ended, Thane. Never forget that." How could he forget when that was the fifth time she had reminded him that day? Or so he wanted to say, if not for the fear of another cuff from Dalven, or the red hot ire of his father. He looked away, down the road to Valentia, so they couldn't see, and read, his face.

The wind tugged at his blue-and-gold-embroidered cloak, and Thane shivered. Other worlds had to be warmer. Brighter, busier, more fun in every way. He believed this despite never having visited another planet in his life; it was impossible to think that the vastness of the galaxy didn't contain someplace better to be than here. A little smudge of black and brown appeared on the road ahead. A family of three, a father, a mother, and a little girl about his age, all wrapped in these brown woollen cloaks.

Muunyak wool. Skin like the colour of tilled earth, and thick black hair that fell in messy curled tresses. They were travelling with a muunyak, these big and shaggy animals that lived in the valleys below. They were all warmer than him, that's for sure. The Kyrell family gave the valley-folk a wide berth as they passed, Dalven even pinching his nose as if they stunk of something. Thane couldn't smell anything. The girl sitting atop the muunyak, staring blankly into the sky, her eyes tracing some invisible line.

"That was a Maxillipede, sister," he heard her murmur. It was enough to make him stop in his tracks and stare. Thane didn't see any sister, but that was definitely a Maxillipede, so he wanted nothing more than to shove it in his brother's face with a loud'I told you so!'

"Don't get near her."

"Mama!?" Thane jumped a little, though he wouldn't admit it. Ganaire had suddenly appeared beside him, though he was not the focus of her attention– she rarely noticed him at all –glaring at the family of valley-folk as if they had done her a great wrong just by walking the same road.

"We don't like in the same world as them," she whipped back around, an iron-clasped grip on his shoulder, "Those are first-wavers. This is why we should have come by repulsorcraft; it's humiliating enough we have to share the road with first-wavers. How do they have the face to attend the celebration dressed in such filthy clothing?" Jelucan had been settled late in galactic history, probably because nobody else had been desperate enough to live on a nearly uninhabitable rock at the very edge of the Outer Rim.

Nearly five hundred years before, an initial group of settlers had been exiled here from another world, equally obscure. They'd fought on the wrong side of some civil war or other. Thane didn't know the details. His parents had told him only that those first settlers had gotten themselves mired in the valleys, in nearly total poverty, and had barely been able to keep themselves alive.

True civilization had only come later, or so they said, a hundred and fifty years ago, with the second wave of settlers, who had come here voluntarily in hopes of building their fortunes. They'd managed to establish mining, engage with galactic commerce, and lead modern lives–unlike the people from the valleys, who behaved more like pre-technological nomads than modern people. They were Jelucani, too, but they were unfriendly, isolated, and proud–or so they said.

Or maybe it was simply that the valley-folk were still mad about being dumped on this dreary dusty rock of a world. If so, Thane didn't blame them. He didn't linger on it long; the next time he looked up, they had finally arrived at Valentia, the capital city of Jelucan. His eyes widened as the cliff face opened up into a wide and large canyon, buildings carved into the pale white stone of the cliffs as far as the eye could see, stretching along the mountainside until they vanished into the faraway mists.

Some were over ten or fifteen stories high, and all around them stood tents and awnings, dyed in a dozen brilliant colors and draped with bands and beads. And flying high above it all, fluttering from a pole struck into the stone, blazed the six-sided shield of the Confederacy. The streets were alive, filled with more people than Thane had ever seen in his eight years.

Some were hawking food or souvenirs for the great occasion: little Separatist flags and banners, holos depicting the Hex or some other symbol, even these toy swords–holoswords, from which a beam of solid light shot out from a shiny metal cylinder. Thane had definitely seen them before, maybe on one of his mother's holo-dramas? Nevertheless, most of the people, however, were headed along in the same direction as he and his family, same as all the repulsorcraft and speeders and transports headed there.

"Wow! Look!" Dalven suddenly cried out, "Battle droids!" Super battle droids, Thane corrected in his mind. Top heavy, clad in rippling grey steel, and towering two-metres high, they lined the roads like unmoving walls. That stalwart stillness even gave the local children enough confidence to poke and prod at them, as if daring–or betting–each other to make the droids move. Thane knew better; he was more mature than them. Or more scared.

"–Don't touch me, you filth!" The voice of Oris Kyrell rang through the throng of bodies.

"Don't get near me, you pauper! First-waver!" Thane's father was standing over a man from the valley, whom Thane had seen before. It was the man from the same family that they had crossed on the road not an hour before. His father had shoved the man to ground, that much he could tell, but as Oris Kyrell contemptuously spun away, the man reached out, grabbed the hem of his robe, and jerked him back.

"Yes, I did bump into you," the man gritted his teeth, still on his knees, "And that is my mistake." Oris Kyrell pulled away as if recoiling from a flame, a great fury upon his face that Thane had only ever seen before he was scolded and beaten. It made him shrink back, and notice the rest of the valley family watching from their muunyak, the woman, and the little girl.

He thought they would ask their man to give up, maybe even apologise–for first-wavers were never equal to second-wavers–but all he saw was a coldness in their eyes, as stony as the mountains themselves.

"Yet," the man continued, rising to his feet and brushing off his trousers, "you are so self-important you cannot even see that now, under the Confederacy, this distinction between 'first wave' and 'second wave' will disappear. After today, we will all be 'Jelucani'."

"Tch," Dalven sneered, "He must be dreaming. Their smelly disgusting sort will never be equal to us." That was the second time he said they smelled.

"You've smelled them?" Thane asked, "They smell?"

"Hah?" Dalven looked at him like he was an idiot, "See for yourself. Unlike us, the first-wavers have no money. Don't they just look smelly?" They certainly looked like they had no money. Their skin was dark and rough, their hair tangled and unkept, their clothes simple and fraying. But Thane still couldn't smell them, at least, not beyond the stench of sweat and dust that permeated the crowded city of Valentia.

"They even rode that filthy muunyak to the ceremony," his older brother scowled. As Dalven stalked off, Thane saw the man reunite with his family. Through the crowd, he saw the girl again, now dismounted from the muunyak. As if she could feel his gaze, the girl turned, and met it.

"It was definitely a Maxillipede," he muttered.

"Thane, what are you doing!?" Ganaire Kyrell called, "Come quickly!" ⁂

"Today, you are no longer just citizens of Jelucan!" There was a lady on top of the stage.

"Each and every one of you are now proud citizens of the galaxy, of our Confederacy!" Thane couldn't really see her, but her image and voice were projected large on holograms and holofeeds throughout the city. At her back, draped over the mountainside, was the six-sided shield of the Confederacy.

"On this day ends your long isolation, and on this day Jelucan begins its new and prosperous future by assuming its rightful place among the stars!" Her hair was like that of the valley-folk, long and wavy and black as pitch.

"What is that thing?" Dalven whispered, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Her skin was blue. Bluer than any sky. Bluer than any water. Her skin was blue like painted clay.

"I don't know," Thane whispered back, and at that moment, both brothers had paused their childish rivalry just to be equally dumbfounded. Her eyes were red. Redder than blood. Redder than rubies. Her eyes were red like painted stones.

"Quiet, both of you," Oris Kyrell growled, transfixed on the speech, or on the creature. Right then, Thane Kyrell so starkly realised what the valley man had meant. From this day onward, they were all'Jelucani'. So what if one had darker skin and the other lighter. So what if one had blonde hair and the other black. So what if one was poor and the other was rich? There was a whole galaxy out there, filled with things and people drawn straight from their dreams and nightmares, just waiting to awe and terrify them.

It was not just he who had realised this. Applause and cheers filled the air, and Thane clapped with all the rest, driven by the tide. But he was a perceptive boy, and his eyes picked out a few people who remained silent–elders, mostly, second-wavers who stood there, still and grave, more like mourners at a funeral. Because there were so many people out there. Soldiers, officers dressed in crisp grey uniforms. Some human, most not.

There were reptile-people, fish-people, spider-people, little-people, large-people, other -peoples, so strange and wonderful and scary Thane could not even begin to describe them. There were droids too, battle droids and super battle droids and Vulture droids shrieking overhead in picture-perfect formations. And there seemed to be nearly as many ships as there were soldiers.

Shuttles and starfighters, corvettes and frigates descending through the clouds, ten-thousand new twinkling stars in the sky, each and every one of them a battlecruiser or battleship high in orbit. And even beyond them still, a star larger and brighter than them all, the picture of it plastered across every display in the city. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Star Station Independence. The largest starship in the Outer Rim, if not the entire galaxy.

Bigger than every city on Jelucan put together, they said, a thousand times over. Thane could scarcely imagine it all, and it thrilled him down to the bone. This is my way out, he thought in his own world, even as the lady continued talking, if I could pilot one of those ships, I could see the whole galaxy! He wouldn't have to flinch every time his father raised his voice, wouldn't have to beg and plead for his mother's attention, wouldn't have to fight his brother every day.

There was another cheer, and Thane cheered with them, but his attention was already elsewhere. There was a shuttle flying in towards the mountain, towards a hangar. It was a Maxillipede, with its two dorsal fins. That's how I will leave this place, he thought. If only he could take a closer look… Maybe after the ceremony?

When the speeches and music ended, and the crowd began to disperse and shuttles began to return to their battleships overhead, the Kyrells held a private reception to meet with the officials from the Confederacy. They told their two sons to return to the inn first, and for Dalven to keep an eye on his little brother. As they said those words, Thane inwardly estimated how long it would take for Dalven to ditch him to go hang out with his friends.

As it turned out, it would be as soon as their parents were out of eyesight.

"See ya," he had said, the moment he caught a glimpse of his friends waving from across the grounds.

"Huh? But Mama said–""I'm not babysitting you!" Dalven grabbed Thane's hair and pulled until it hurt, "And if you tell Dad, I'll hit you so hard you'll be tasting blood for a week. So shut up."

"F-Fine…" Thane stood rooted to his spot until he could no longer see his older brother or his friends. Then he immediately marched for the hangars. Thane was old enough to take care of himself. Besides, this way he could see those ships! Sure, there were barricades, and the signs said to stay back, but he figured he was still young enough to get away with the excuse that he couldn't read them if he were caught. Besides, he was harmless!

All he wanted to do was look at the ship up close, and maybe touch it, just once. So he crept around the back of the podium until he could see the hangar door, and, upon seeing that the coast was clear, kept his head low and raced all the way to the hangar itself. He found it mostly empty by the time he entered; most of the ships had already gone back into orbit or to one of the new projects being built out on the southern plateaus.

But that Maxillipede-class shuttle was still there, with its sleek, curved lines, almost biological, its grey hull and blue paint, its golden running lights. It towered him, made him feel smaller than he already was, made him shiver in… in excitement and something else he couldn't place. Papa is nothing compared to this thing, much less Dalven. Thane wasn't even sure why he was so scared of them any more. He thought that even this mere shuttle was larger than anything on Jelucan–beyond him, beyond them.

He reached a small hand out to touch the metal.

"Keep your filthy hands off!" Thane flinched violently, snatching his hand back as if scalded, "Sor– Sorry–!"

"–I'm not dirty!"

"...?" He stepped back. And he stepped sideways, peeking over the side of the shuttle's hull.

"You'll always be dirty!" Disappointment bloomed within him at first, at the realisation that several other kids had the same idea as he. Several other kids he knew from his school had gathered there, too, the older boys that Dalven played with more than he. There were six of them–and one other, a skinny girl in shabby roughspun clothes and hide boots that marked her as a valley-folk. Next to the rich hues of scarlet and gold of the boys' robes, she looked like a dry autumn leaf about to fall.

It was, to his surprise, the same girl he saw on the road.

"What are you doing here, valley trash?" he recognised Mothar Drik's voice. One of Dalven's friends.

"I wanted to see the ships," the girl's voice was flat, "Same as you."

"Same as us?" Mothar laughed, and his cronies laughed with him, "You don't belong here!"

"And you do?" the girl shot back, "I doubt they let you in either." Mothar was, for a moment, at a loss for words, but soon enough fell back on the old reliable–"You're a first-waver!"

"And you're a second-waver," she replied matter-of-factly, the same way Mothar said 'first-waver', as if it meant anything. Thane couldn't help himself. He laughed out loud. A few of the other boys noticed him, then.

"Oh hey, Thane. Wanna help us take out the trash?" They were going to beat up the girl from the valleys. Six of them, one of her. It made him frown. Growing up with Oris Kyrell for a father had taught Thane many things. It had taught him how strictly and harshly rules could be enforced. Taught him that his brother responded to their father's cruelty by being equally cruel to Thane. Taught him that it didn't really matter who was right or wrong–because the rules were set by whoever held the cane.

Until now, on Jelucan, it was the second-wavers who held the cane. But now Jelucan was part of the galaxy.

"Why is she trash?" he approached them, and before he knew it he had instinctively put himself between the girl and the boys. He could feel her staring into the back of his neck.

"She's a first-waver!"

"So?"

"First-wavers are beneath us!"

"Why?"

"They… they're poor, and dirty…"

"–And they smell!"

"Yeah!" Why is it always the same three things? Thane looked at the girl. Their eyes met.

"You're poor?"

"Well, a little."

"Are you dirty?" The girl blinked, "I washed all over before coming here." Thane lowered his head and sniffed the girl's collar with all the innocence of an eight-year old boy.

"Oi, what the hell are you doing!?" Mothar shouted. Thane stood up straight, his investigation complete.

"She smells like dried grass," he announced proudly, "It's not bad."" But she's dirty! Look at those rags she wears!" The girl pinched at the collar of her sleeve, as if embarrassed. Always, always, always the same thing.

"Oh yeah?" Thane retorted, "And don't you think you're smelly to the rest of the galaxy? Don't you think the rest of the galaxy considers what you're wearing right now as rags? You think she is trash, but what makes you think the galaxy doesn't think you're trash?" Mothar Drik punched him in the face. Thane Kyrell punched him back, just as hard, if not harder. Hard enough to knock the larger boy flat on his back.

Thane Kyrell got in a couple more punches before someone dragged him off Mothar, and as he was forcibly spun around, he prepared to take another fist to the face–only for the girl to slam herself into his attacker and knock them both to the floor. Their eyes met again, and so did their grins. She has eyes like that of a hawk, he noticed then, when she smiles. Two against wasn't any better odds, but the girl fought hard.

Thane did too, because if roughhousing with Dalven had taught him anything, it was how to take a hit and keep going. Still, the odds were against, and they were being backed against the shuttle hull. Thane already sported a split lip and bruised eye, and if this kept up, it wasn't going to end well– Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud. The heavy, inevitable approach of steel-on-steel that could only come from a battle droid came like a splash of freezing water on all of them.

All eight of them froze, spinning around with hands clasped behind their back. Only five metres away stood the blue-skinned, red-eyed lady from the stage, surrounded by grey-uniformed officers and super battle droids. She came closer, and unlike the droids she was silent, almost gliding across the hangar floor, until she was towering right over them, taller than even the shuttle. Thane couldn't read her face. He had been in trouble before, countless times, with this father, with his mother, with his brother.

He had learned to read all of their faces. But now, face-to-face with something so alien, he didn't know where to start. Her blue-skinned face was without features, no freckles or creases or lines. Her painted red eyes were without irises, so he could not know where exactly she was looking. He braced himself for anything she could say. Anything. Except for–"Spies?" The children grew paler than they already were.

"... Well?" there was a hint of impatience. Even as Thane struggled to muster up the courage to speak, the girl was already speaking.

"It was my fault, ma'am," she said as confidently as she could, though the quiver remained, "The other boys were going to beat me up, but he stepped in to stop them." She gestured at him, and Thane felt the heat of gratitude and pride swell up all at once.

"Here?" They all winced.

"We… we wanted to see the ships, ma'am!" Thane stammered.

"Is that so?" her gaze swept over them all, or at least, Thane thought so, "Take them all in for questioning." Oh. It's over now. The first battle droid was already marching forward, but one of the junior officer stepped into to interrupt it.

"Pardon me, sir, but I would advise against this action," the officer gestured at them, "These are evidently children, and, a little bit of mischievousness aside, clearly hold no ill intentions. They simply found themselves in a little bit of a scuffle, I'd wager."

"Here?"

"Mischievousness aside," he repeated, "These are clearly children of the… noble families, here. I would advise against creating any undue friction so early on in our… campaign." The lady's lips thinned, "Very well. You are dismissed." Mothar didn't need any further encouragement; he and his cronies took off the moment the final word left her lips. Thane was about to take off after them, only to realise the girl was staying stubbornly put.

He decided to stay put too, then, and little would he know that one small decision would change his life forever. The lady raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know if you were addressing us or the officer, ma'am," the girl bowed her head, "I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to be in the hangar. I broke a rule. But I didn't mean to do anything dishonorable. I only wanted to see the ships." Thane quickly bowed his head too, inspecting the polish of his boots.

"..." A drop of sweat fell onto the polish.

"Sir, it could be worth humouring them," the same officer suggested, "This shuttle has been in service for decades. I highly doubt there is nothing these children could find out that our enemies already do not. If nothing else, we could reward them for their sense of responsibility… if not bravery."

"... Thank you for your input, Cartroll," the lady said, "Form a perimeter. I do not wish to be interrupted."

"Understood, sir."

"Piett, join me."

"Right away, sir."

"Now then, you two," the lady looked down at them, "You are brave, if a little foolish. You are certainly curious, if a little too much so. I want to know why, and I hope you can tell me."

"I like ships!" Thane was quick to answer, as if he was just waiting for the opportunity. Aside from his family, who would definitely beat him for it, who else would listen?

"I want to be a pilot, and see the galaxy!"

"I want to serve, ma'am," the girl's eyes burned with a fire, and Thane cringed when he realised he should've thought to say ma'am too, "I want to be part of what I saw today." For the first time, the edges of the lady's lips curled upwards, and she nodded towards the officer called Piett. He waved a hand, and with a hiss and spray of mist, the rear door ramped down.

"What kind of vessel is this?"

"Maxillipede-class shuttle!"

"Maxillipede-class shuttle!" They said in unison, and looked at each other in surprise. Grins broke out next.

"Very good. Why was there steam when the ramp was lowered?" Thane read the girl's eyes, and when he saw the uncertainty in them, he answered for her–"It was the pressure inside the shuttle equalising with the outside," he said, "It means the ship hadn't opened up since it landed."

"..." the lady regarded them with more care than before, "Would you like to look inside?" Did she mean it? The officer called Piett stepped aside, a small smile gracing his thin face as he beckoned for them to come. The two children needed no further convincing to race up the ramp with small wonder, where everything was white and shiny and lit up with a hundred small lights. He weaved through the boxes and crates, and pieced together that they had originally come to unload the vehicle.

Piett showed them to the cockpit, the lady following close behind, where a droid was sitting in the pilot's seat.

"Can you show me the altitude control?" They both pointed to it instantly.

"The autopilot? Very good," the lady hummed, "And the jump drive?" That one was easy–it was the big lever in the centre!

"It would appear Rear Admiral Cartroll was correct," the lady finally backed away, satisfied, "There will be a very bountiful reaping on Jelucani indeed." The boy and girl looked at each other again, beaming as brightly as they ever had. We've made it, they seemed to tell each other.

"Glad to hear it, sir."

"What are your names?" the lady asked them next.

"Thane Kyrell, ma'am!" distantly, Thane wondered if she would recognise his last name. His family seemed to think she would, but she made no indication to prove them correct.

"My name is Ciena Ree, ma'am."

"Do both of you intend on serving the Confederacy?" she asked then, "And fly, or even command, ships like these? Then you might be Captain Kyrell and Captain Ree." Thane's chest swelled with pride. His parents had told him the Confederate fleet was the largest in the entire galaxy, and he could imagine no greater or glorious fate than becoming an officer of it. From the look on Ciena's face, he imagined she shared his sentiments. She whispered to him, "We'll have to study hard."

"And practice flying." His answer made her face fall.

"I don't have any ships to practice with, and our only simulator is old." The lady overheard them, "Then I will build a new academy on Jelucan, which all of you may attend. It will be difficult, and it will definitely not be what you may expect. Even if it may cost you more than merely blood, sweat, and tears, would you still strive to reach for our stars?" Thane had no idea what that meant, and he didn't care, either. He had already made up his mind.

"Definitely, ma'am!" The lady rose, straightening out her uniform and running a gloved hand down the lining of her cape, "You may tell your future peers that your first lesson was given by General Sev'rance Tann." Thane and Ciena stood ramrod straight.

"In the Confederate Armed Forces," spoke the Grand Marshal of the Armies of the Outer Rim, "All enlisted officers of greater rank are to be addressed, regardless of age or gender, as ' sir'. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Very good. The next time we meet, may it be aboard Star Station Independence. Can I trust you both to make it there?"

"Yes, sir!"