Akashic Records
patreon
Star Wars - Ripples of the Void Chapter 6: May the Force be with you
🕑 Added 2025-10-15 18:03:01 +0000 UTCChapter 6: May the Force be with you
“This is an odd initiative,” Mina commented as she read over my proposal. Bec and Avi were both silent as they also read the next idea I planned to present to Congress, but they seemed intrigued if nothing else.
“The Force exists, and so too do people who can manipulate it,” I replied easily. “One cannot simply deny that. And, if they do not have training… well, it is no different than leaving a loaded blaster next to a curious toddler.”
“Some will think you are trying to revive the Jedi Order,” Bec claimed, to which I could only snort.
“Well, they’ll be wrong,” I declared. “The Jedi were a mistake. Allowing a bunch of sword-swinging zealots to have so much freedom and power was a disaster waiting to happen, as the war clearly proved.”
I tapped my desk slowly as I gathered my thoughts. “What purpose did the Jedi serve? To counter-balance the Sith? Those lunatics hadn’t existed in any way that matter for the last thousand years, and the Jedi completely failed to notice there were some hiding right under their noses.”
“The Jedi were their own worst enemies, and the makers of their own demise. They let some nebulous, undefinable entity, the ‘Force’ guide their every move, and this led them to their extinction. Not to mention their terrible PR. Taking children from their parents and then forcing said families to have zero contact with each other, all while claiming all forms of emotional attachments were taboo, could only lead to one outcome, which it did. No, I shall not make the same mistakes as the Republic and the old order with the way they handled Force Users.”
“The idea of a school for these ‘gifted’ individuals is an interesting one,” Avi Singh commented. “Though I do question the need for it to be so… intense. The model you’ve chosen to show to Congress reminds me of a private boarding school. But ten to twenty years of schooling and training seems rather extreme.”
“It won’t just be Force studies, I want them to be well-rounded. They’ll be taught all sorts of other subjects, like any other school that teaches younglings all the way up to university level classes,” I assured him. “The reason I gave those numbers is to have some idea of how long they might have to stick around. Graduation will depend on how well they manage to assimilate the important lessons on controlling and using their powers, as well as what not to do.”
“I see. You wish to create a training facility for Force Users who will join the Confederacy’s armed forces,” Bec realized. “You teach them to be good citizens and that using their powers for the CIS is worthwhile.
“Indoctrination,” Mina accused, and I shook my head in denial.
“While I admit there will be some focus on why they should do things our way, and not the old, failed methods of the Jedi and Sith, it is not about indoctrinating a new generation of Force wielding super-soldiers and commanders, even if the GAR proved how deadly they could be in either role,” I declared. “Once they have been giving the training they need to understand their powers and control them, they can choose what to do with their lives. Like I said, pushing Force Users into statically defined roles in a terrible idea.”
I waved a hand through the air. “If they want to use their talents as bakers, writers, actors, politicians or whatever the hell they want, then that is their choice. They have the freedom to do so. Yes, there will be incentives for a Force User to joining the military, but I won’t bully anyone into choosing one way over another.”
“This will not be easy to pass through Congress,” Mina warned. “And I fear that if you try, you’ll receive a lot of pushback. To say nothing of how expensive this initiative is.”
She gestured at the datapad. “You want training centers to handle tens of thousands of Force sensitive children. Such a thing won’t be easy for the budget to handle.”
“Do you know what a Force Sensitive person can do?” I asked them. “You’ve never been to the front lines, so your experience with Jedi and Sith is limited.”
Leaning forward, I swept my gaze across the trio in front of me. “Imagine, if you will, somebody with the power to leap a dozen feet in the air, grab an object a hundred feet away, and then strangle you to death with their mind, all while peeling open your thoughts to learn your darkest secrets. These are all things a Force User is capable of. They do not need a lightsaber to be a threat. In fact, in many ways, a lightsaber is their way of holding back.”
Seeing the three Congresspeople blanch a little, I continued. “Now, imagine that the person who can do this is not a monk taught since they can walk that using these powers is a burden and blessing that should only be used with immense care. Imagine that you give the power to send another person flying to a child without those lessons.”
At that, all of them began to see where I was going with this, and I smiled. It was a grim expression, and could not be described as pleasant.
“These schools will not only train these young Force Users and teach them to better control their powers so they don’t accidentally kill or mind-rape somebody, but also inform them about the right and proper ways to use their gifts. Their lessons will reinforce that using Mind Bending on another sentient is an evil on par with rape, that using the Force to alter the outcome of a bet is just another form of illegal bet rigging, that pushing somebody with Telekinesis can cause grievous bodily harm that might lead to death. These children must understand that the Force is not a toy, but a tool, and a dangerous one, no different from a loaded blaster.”
I leaned back. “We cannot stop people from using the Force. Ban it, and all you do is create terrorists with supernatural powers. But teach them to control it and to use it properly, to assign morality to certain functions and abilities, and you add a force multiplier to your society, if you forgive the pun. If you do it right, these future members of society will want to use their powers for good and not for selfish reasons.”
“Sure, there will be those who want to use their powers for crime, but that is why we need people willing to not do that in the first place,” I finished, giving my allies one final nod. “So, do you understand now?”
“I believe I see the purpose, as well as the benefit,” Bec said after a moment, breaking the silence that had filled my office.
“Where would this ‘school’ be located?” Mina inquired, trying to shift focus a little bit.
“I was thinking there would be more than one,” I replied. “Concentrating every single Force User in the Confederacy in one spot is a bad idea, both logistically but also from an optics stand point. Before the war, the Jedi were seen as aloof legends in the Republic because they rarely left their ivory tower.”
“So, several of these training academies, likely centered on major CIS worlds, or at least ones with easy access to major Hyperspace lanes to allow for even the most distant worlds to send their Force Sensitive children to them,” Avi mused, already pondering the logistics of such an endeavor.
“Yes, that was what I was thinking as well,” I agreed. “As for the expense, as Senator Bonteri pointed out…”
I pressed a few buttons and sent an updated budget plan to their datapads. Watching their eyebrows rise was most amusing.
“This is reckless,” Mina warned. “Taking out loans using the Mega-Corporations as lenders will result in ruinous interest rates!”
“Indeed, it seems that you want to mortgage entire planets in order to finance these new budgetary increases!” Avi Singh exclaimed.
“The planets I’m prepared to use as collateral are worthless balls of rock and metal,” I told them. “They have few, if any, lifeforms upon them, and those that exist are not sapient, so there isn’t any worry on that regard. And in the long run, they will provide some use, as we desperately need credits.”
The current economic status of the Confederacy was… let’s call it ‘bad.’ Which was honestly an understatement! We could not completely shift the factories and industry away from a war footing to return to civilian manufacturing, not with the Empire on our doorstep and no idea what their plans were, but neither could we continue to pump out nothing but blasters and war droids.
To say nothing of the debts and other monetary issues the CIS had to deal with! It was a newborn state, after all, and one that spanned entire sectors and thousands of worlds. A few billion credits wasn’t nearly enough to cover it all.
Hence, the need for a way to extend a few lines of credit and find some method to pay back the existing loans while also ensuring we got a chance to acquire more money. Declaring bankruptcy would be a very bad look for the CIS right now, same as raising taxes to unreasonable levels, and I could not afford to have faith in me or the system shaken any more.
Was it insider trading if I was manipulating the government into mortgaging planets that the corporations I controlled could strip-mine for making more droids and ships? Oh, absolutely! But it was for a good cause! There were more planets in the galaxy than you could count, and many of them were uninhabited.
Add in the fact that much of the Outer Rim was unmapped and unexplored, and this created an opportunity to expand the reach of the CIS. More mines and factories would also benefit the economy, helping put credits into the pockets of the people who’d be hired by said mines and factories. To say nothing of the freighters who’d travel to and from, carrying supplies to be bought and sold.
This was not a perfect solution. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact I held the reins of five of the Mega-Corps the loans were coming from, then it would likely backfire spectacularly.
“Doesn’t selling off our own planets create a rather poor image of us?” Avi inquired. “Err, pardon the pun.”
“It’s not selling, it’s mortgaging,” I stressed, before glancing at Bec. “What are your thoughts? You’ve been rather quiet so far.”
“I do not like the idea,” he admitted, glancing at Mina and Avi. “Using planets like they are products to be bartered away and sold piecemeal to the corporations gets far too close to the way the Republic would treat the Outer Rim. But I’ve seen the numbers. We must find a way to acquire capital soon, or we may be forced to raise taxes across the board, and lower Congressional salaries.”
“It won’t just be Congress that will be bellow at us if that happens,” Mina winced. “The media and the public will eat us alive.”
“Especially after we just promised no further tax increases this year,” I pointed out.
“Very well, I will throw my support behind this plan,” Mina sighed. “But in exchange, I want one of these Force User schools to be located on Onderon.”
“Deal,” I replied with a nod.
“‘Forcer User’ is a bit of a mouthful, too,” Avi murmured. “Can’t call them ‘Jedi’ or ‘Sith,’ either. I believe something else, separate from the two, would be a good idea.”
“A new name, for a new legacy,” Bec agreed.
“Hmm… yes, I agree,” I mused. “In that case… I suggest the name ‘Bendu’ to represent our new group. Neither Light, nor Dark, but balanced in between.”
“Bendu…” Mina hummed to herself, tasting the word on her tongue.
“It sounds as if there is some history to it,” Avi commented. “Though I have no issue with choosing it as the new designation.”
“Yes… Bendu works,” Bec stated.
“Then we are in agreement?” I asked, looking at the trio.
“We are,” Bec nodded, the other two Congresspeople bobbing their heads along with his words.
We shook hands, and they left to convince their voting blocs to back this latest bit of legislation.
As for me? I leaned back in my chair and decided to scroll the exo-net for a bit before my next meeting with a few members from the Retail Caucus who wanted permission to build a mega-mall somewhere on Raxus.
111 &&& 111
“This is…” I murmured, trailing off a little as I stared out the viewport of the Refuge in Audacity at the devastated orb that was Murkhana.
Once, it had been a tropical, oceanic world covered in exotic black sand beaches, vast shallow oceans that plenty of resources, from fish to minerals, could be extracted from, as well as coral reefs the size of continents that supported truly fascinating species.
The Corporate Alliance, a conglomerate of medium-sized businesses that had banded together for protection against the Mega-Corps, had their main office here, and had joined the Confederacy very early on, thus earning them a seat at Dooku’s table.
Now? It was a tainted husk of its former glory. Just another Outer Rim world subjected to Republic cruelty. For all their claims about freedom and the sanctity of life, the GAR had been very trigger happy and more than willing to unleash orbital bombardments on undefended worlds.
Not all of the GAR’s atrocities could be blamed solely on the Sith, either. Far too often, it was the actions of the unworthy, arrogant Core and Inner Rim officers who didn’t see any problem with ruining entire worlds for no reason other than CIS forces had been on it.
For months, Republic warship had rained destruction onto the surface, reducing the beaches to slag, tainted the oceans and killed off most of the fish and coral, and caused an ecological collapse that would take centuries to fully recover from.
‘All because of the Shadowfeed broadcast station,’ I thought, eyes narrowing darkly at the ruins.
There hadn’t even been a major CIS presence on the world! It was a resort planet, with the only things of interest being the high-class hotels, some mining platforms and fisheries, and a single city that housed the Corporate Alliance HQ building, the Argente Tower. The local garrison had been a few thousand battle droids and a single Lucrehulk, plus some corvettes and monitors.
No, it wasn’t the military presence or the industry the Republic had set out to ruin, the GAR had struck the world to try and destroy one of the propaganda-engines of my uncle. The Shadowfeed was an ‘illegal’ holofeed that broadcast Separatist propaganda by slicing into the HoloNet.
During the war, there had been dozens of worlds that were used to bounce the signals off of, and Murkhana just so happened to be one, unfortunately, thus making it a target.
The Shadowfeed still existed, and continued to broadcast anti-Empire news and information. Meanwhile, the Factory, the CIS operated media outlet that was used to spread Separatist aligned entertainment within the Confederacy itself, was turned into the CIS version of the BBC, providing public access shows and information to spread the views I wanted my citizens to see.
‘And it was Tarkin who spearheaded Republic Intelligence’s hunt for the Shadowfeed stations,’ I thought with a scowl. That man had been a thorn in the CIS’s side since day one, and continued to be one, the prick.
“Yes, it is unfortunate about what has occurred here,” a Sugi murmured, floating by my side on a cute little hover-chair like what Yoda has used. “It is going to take a lot of time – and resources – to fix it all.”
Former Congresswoman Voe Atell had been Murkhana’s – and by extension, the Corporate Alliance’s – representative to the CIS, but with her death, a new person had to be selected.
This duty had fallen on the shoulders of Verpa, a middle manager who’d been thrust into the position without much warning following the Decapitation. Though he seemed to be doing well enough so far.
I turned to the Sugi and gave a little bow. “Seeing the ruin wrought here with my own eyes, I can tell that it will be expensive. But, it is something I will be bringing up with Congress. If you present a request to have Murkhana put onto the Restoration List, I will ensure that it receives top priority.”
There were many worlds badly damaged by the war. Some worse than others. Murkhana was easily one of the worst. It was bad. Really bad. Restoring it would be the work of generations, but at the same time… abandoning it was out of the question. We were trying to be better than the Republic which had used up worlds and cast them aside, damn it!
“The Corporate Alliance will gladly accept your offer,” Verpa said, bobbing their head gratefully.
“Good. Now, how are plans for the parade?” I inquired.
“All is ready for your arrival. But, again, I would advise against it, Head of State,” Verpa stressed, sounding a little nervous.
“Seeing it all from orbit is one thing. But I came to Murkhana to show its people that they aren’t forgotten by the Confederacy, and not walking among them would be a grave insult,” I replied. “Though I will be using a respirator, do not worry.”
Verpa sighed but knew I would not back down, and so accompanied me to the luxury Sheathipede currently berthed in my battleship’s private hangar.
Following my appointment as Head of State, my flagship was turned into my personal method of travel between the different worlds of the CIS. Space Force 1, if you will.
Some might say using a battleship that still had all of its weaponry online and fully functional was too threatening, but Tarkin and the other Imperial commanders were all using Venators and early model Star Destroyers for their own personal ships, so it was best to do the same.
I rarely had to go all that far anyways, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Especially with the damned pirates crawling out of the woodwork these days.
‘I hope Lap’Lap has some good news for me soon,’ I thought with a hidden grimace.
The Rear Admiral had been on pirate hunting duty for a while now, and while the Rimma Trade Route was more secure, the ugly little womp rats were popping up everywhere, taking advantage of the chaos.
Once Verpa and I were safely ensconced within the shuttle we exited the Refuge and descended from orbit towards Murkhana City, the sole city on the planet. It was located along the coast, which had let it take advantage of the beautiful beaches it had been known for, though nowadays the waters were filled with sludge and pollutants.
We landed at the Corporate Alliance space pad, an impressive landing site built a short ways away from the city on stilts holding it above the tainted ocean. A quartet of kilometer-long bridges connected the landing pad with the city, and several aircars were already waiting for us as the shuttle touched down.
“It stinks,” one of the organic guards, a Kage this time, muttered as the hatch slid open, letting the toxic fumes in.
On my other side, an Aqualish guard hastily put on the respirator I’d gotten for them, and Congressman Verpa had sealed himself inside a transparent duraglass dome on his hover chair to avoid the polluted air.
I was glad I was already wearing mine, but I could still smell the stench of burning rubber and hydrocarbons in the air, along with the tang of rotten fish and salt.
“Feeble organics with your weak olfactory organs,” one of the Magna Guard droids chuckled, unbothered by the planet’s atmosphere.
“I’m sure you’d fare just as well with the acid rain as we would,” the Aqualish retorted.
“Let’s leave the bickering for the barracks,” the Kage muttered.
“Yes. Do not make the Head of State look bad," the other Magna Guard said, and that caused my security detail to straighten themselves out as we exited the Sheathipede and made our ways to the aircars.
“Welcome, Head of State Jarik!” a Gran said in greeting as he saluted us, the three-eyed goat-like alien wearing a crisp CIS military uniform.
“Thank you for the kind reception, Colonel Gee,” I said, giving the man a nod, and he nodded back before ushering us to the vehicles.
“The motorcade is ready to take you to the place where your speech is scheduled to happen,” the colonel informed me.
“And where is it being held?” I asked. I already knew, but I wanted to make sure nothing had changed.
“Argente Square, in front of the ruins of the old Tower,” he replied.
“A good choice,” I said in approval, and sat back to enjoy the ride.
Flying over the city made me grimace. While most of the broken down war machines left behind from the war had been moved away along with plenty of rubble, there were plenty of shattered tanks and pieces of warships embedded in buildings or trapped amidst collapsed structures. The fighting had been street to street before the Republic was finally driven from the surface.
‘Of course, that was when they decided to begin their orbital bombardment campaign,’ I thought with a flicker of a scowl crossing my face as I beheld the devastation.
Craters littered the city, and entire skyscrapers had been vaporized. Plenty of structures survived in intact, but these were burnt out husks or those far from the actual fighting, and some had tilted and looked ready to topple with just a nudge. Construction was underway all across the city, but it’d take years before everything was cleared out properly.
Argente Tower, once the tallest building on the planet – and, as a mark of pride for the Corporate Alliance, one of the tallest in the entire Outer Rim – was gone, the upper half wiped away with everything left turned to rubble by missiles.
The people I could see clustered around the square in front of the remains of the Tower as the aircar descended were just as miserable. Gaunt, dirty, and desperate, the convoys of medical and food aid were the only thing keeping anarchy from ripping through the streets and turning the city into a lawless wasteland.
Music began to blare from speakers set up around the podium, the CIS anthem playing for the citizens of Murkhana, and when the aircar touched down, I could hear the cheers through the vehicle before the doors had even opened.
“Despite everything, they still trust us and believe in the Confederacy,” I said, touched by the display of genuine adulation.
The doors opened, and a Magna Guard and the Kage got out first, scanning the area before allowing me to exit the vehicle.
I emerged, waving my right hand to the crowd and smiling as I made my way to the podium. The cheers grew louder, though they soon dimmed as the cameras and microphones turned on, allowing me to be seen not just by the people of the city, but the rest of the CIS as well, as this was being broadcast across the Galaxy.
“People of Murkhana, I have come here to say two things to you,” I said, voice booming through the square. “The first… is that I am sorry.”
I reached up and took off my respirator, taking a deep breath of tainted air even as my aides and guards urged me to put it back on.
There were gasps from the crowd, which only spread as I deeply bowed my head to them. “We failed you. The CIS should have been here. The fact that there was war raging across the galaxy at the time is no excuse. That is why, the second matter I am here to tell you, is that I promise you, Murkhana will be restored!”
I raised a fist into the air. “Even if it takes a hundred years, the seas will be blue again, and the sands naturally black, not stained with tar and oil!”
“Why am I going this far for you?” I asked rhetorically, sweeping a hand out. “Because it is the least I can do. It is the least that the Confederacy can do, after all you have sacrificed for us. And you will not be alone. Many worlds have been harmed by the war. They, too, shall have all the aide necessary to put things right.”
“It won’t be easy. It won’t be quick. But we are the Confederation of Independent Systems! Unlike the Empire which even now tramples the very freedoms and worlds they claim to uphold and protect, we will not leave allies behind! No, we shall bring them with us on our journey to a brighter future! Working together, we’ll ascend to the stars, lifting each other along the way! When one rises, so too shall the rest!”
I threw my arms wide, as if to embrace the crowd. “This is the future that I seek! No, this is the future we all seek! Unity! Prosperity! Freedom! Innovation! Purpose! Equality! These six tenants will be what the CIS shall be known for and remembered by! Join me, Murkhana! Join me, people of the Confederation! Join me in creating this future! It will be hard, I admit this freely, but nothing worth doing is ever easy!”
I then began to cough, covering my mouth as the rancid air of the dying world finally got the better of me, but the cheers drowned it out, and the sympathy being sent my way by the crowd as they urged me to put my mask back on was worth a minute or two of breathing without a respirator.
My security detail rushed me back to the aircar as soon as the speech was over, and one of the Magna Guards popped out a medical scanner from a hidden compartment within the vehicle.
“Our job would be a lot easier with a less reckless principal,” it grunted.
“A few minutes out there won’t kill me,” I huffed, even as I let the droid check me over.
“I do hope it was worth it,” Congressman Verpa inquired, sounding rather sassy to my ears.
I simply shrugged. “Yes, I do, too.”
Today, I had proven my honesty and intentions to the galaxy. The CIS would rise, and dramatic though it was, I’d made sure I had secured the adoration of the public for another few months. With the common people on my side, I could finally start to push through several new legislative reforms that would help secure the wobbly foundations.
Yes, it was all coming together nicely.
111 &&& 111
Author's Note: Thanks to all who voted! Here, have some more chapters!
Comments
Ian Rodgers
Maybe some point down the line he can, but the pirates are currently causing too much bother to his own shipping for him to do that quite so soon.
Duke of Coffee
Pity he can't hire the pirates as privateers and throw them against the Empire shipping lanes.
Catherine Colin
Thanks for the chapter!
