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SHATTERED STARS CHAPTER ONE - INTRODUCTIONS

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None

War! The Separatist Alliance has begun attacking the Galactic Republic, sparking a galaxy-wide conflict. In an attempt to keep the peace and protect the Republic, the Jedi Council has begun deploying their Knights and Masters to fight the droid army. Young Knight Taska Rokanh is waiting anxiously to receive her assignment. Unbeknownst to her, her new attaché of clone troopers is doing the same.

Breathe.

Breathe in. Breathe out. When you breathe out, you are entrusting your worries to the Force. And when you breathe in, you are accepting the strength It offers you.

Taska hoped that the Force was generous with strength today.

The extremely temporary quarters the Kaminoans had offered her for the few days she would be on the planet really weren’t that different from her quarters at home—in the Jedi Temple, that is. The floor was made of durasteel, and so colder than the polished terracotta floor there. She hadn’t had the time to bring her mat. Instead, she spread her robe out on the floor and sat cross-legged there for her morning meditations.

This would be her last on Kamino for a while. This morning, she would be assigned troops and sent to whatever corner of the galaxy the Chancellor and the Council deemed necessary.

Her master had told her to stay planetside as she left to assist during the Battle of Geonosis, and despite her anxiety to help, she was grateful. She took the time to meditate, and, when she was ready, used the days before the Council would contact her to study the art of war. It was tedious, exhausting, nauseating, and wholly unpleasant. She was glad that her enemies would be battle droids—inanimate objects with no presence in the Force—but she was all too aware that the ones she would be directing were not. She didn’t know how she would react to the death of one of her own clones. She had been able to dimly feel the flickering-out of some of their presences during Geonosis, lightyears away, how it took away from the brightness of the massive combined glow of all the clones.

She could only imagine how painful it was up close.

She continued her deep breaths and reflexive smoothing of her tunic under her new armor all the way to the hangar, where she was to meet her troops and then board her new ship. It didn’t feel right, to be put in charge of a war vessel as an agent of peace. She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind. A Jedi had no doubts, and if the Council knew what they were doing—of course they did—she should trust them.

---

“Yes, Master, thank you,” she nodded and bowed. Master Mundi flickered out of view, and Taska sucked in another breath. He had just confirmed their plans for the morning. Taska did the math in her head—they would have three days in hyperspace to get to know each other and learn how to work together before arriving at their first planet, Zarrebar.

Taska had never provided reinforcement for a Republic military base, much less commanded troops for that purpose. She was just glad that there would be established military personnel already there at the strategic base. Hopefully they were willing to cooperate with “new blood,” as she had already been called.

She sensed the discord inside the hangar before the doors opened, and braced herself for overload. The hangar was bustling, with long lines of clones going to and from, but mostly to, ships, whether fighters or transports, to take them to the seven Star Destroyers or various light cruisers waiting in the upper atmosphere.

“Force,” she whispered to herself. She checked her holopad again, a nervous habit, to make sure she was headed in the right direction. Bay 37, Gunship 12. On the other side of the hangar. She expected to be making close calls as she wove through the dense melee, but the clones recognized her presence almost instinctively and halted to clear a path. She tried her best to thank all of them.

She got the sense that the clones thought the Jedi were quite far above them.

She didn’t like it.

---

“Are we all here?” Ace asked, taking another breath through his nose. He wasn’t going to start shaking this time. He could take this. He could do this.

“Yes, sir,” Lark answered. Ace could practically hear the laughter in his voice. Even after the past few years, it never felt natural for him to call his brother ‘sir’. “I think two headcounts is enough to prove that. We just have to wait for our general.”

“Bay thirty-seven… good, alright.” Ace would barely have been able to hear the muttering with his own ears, but the enhanced helmet picked it up clearly. A good thing, too, because it gave him time to straighten to proper attention.

“General Rokanh, sir!” He heard a small kriff before Lark clicked his heels and followed suit, followed by all the men in the gunship. He sighed and tried to focus on the general instead. She wore cream robes and tall dark brown boots, characteristic of the Jedi. The plates of armor on her chest and arms creased the fabric awkwardly, and the end of her long, slick braid was too close to getting caught in one of the junctions. She would have to get better armor soon.

“Oh! Um, hello,” she said, moving her arm almost as if she wanted to salute before thinking better of it. She stuck her hand out instead. “Taska Rokanh. And you are?”

“CC-3135, Captain of Hail Company, sir,” he answered, hesitantly grasping her forearm in greeting.

Her brows furrowed over her deep, dark eyes. “What’s your name? You must have something other than an ID number.”

“Right, it’s, um, Ace, sir,” he dropped his hand quickly to his side. “Nice to meet you,” he added as an afterthought.

She smiled warmly. “It’s good to meet you as well. Hello, I’m Taska Rokanh.”

“Lieutenant Lark,” his brother answered easily. “Excited to be working with you. Do you prefer sir or ma’am?”

I should’ve asked.

“Either is fine, whichever you like better,” Taska reassured him.

She stepped onto the gunship, the men giving her more room than they could really afford, sandwiching themselves into the back of the ship. She carried on in the same friendly fashion, shaking hands and introducing herself to each clone, and by the end, the weight was so evenly distributed on Gunship 12 that they no longer had to worry about their landing capabilities.

The general smiled as they went through the energy field over the hangar, the blue light playing strangely on her slightly crowded teeth and bronzy skin.

Funny. In all of Ace’s imaginations of Jedi, none of them smiled, and she had just done it twice.

---

The light cruiser Silverhawk was much smaller than the Star Destroyers, to be sure, but no less impressive. At least, that was what Taska thought, as it loomed closer and closer in view. “I’ve never been on a ship this big,” she said to no one in particular, and regretted it almost instantly. She didn’t want to put her men ill at ease, thinking she was incapable.

“This day is full of firsts, sir,” Lark added, and Taska smiled. At least he was being nice about her slip-up.

When they touched down in the hangar, Taska hopped out and stood to the side. It didn’t take long for the Captain to follow her lead. He looked at her as if he expected her to say something. “Give your orders, Captain, you know what you’re doing more than I do,” she lifted her hands. She had studied command, but she wanted an opportunity to check that her information was up-to-date.

“Right,” Ace said slowly. “Men, we have work to do. I want each ship that comes in after us arrayed, introduced to their superiors, and especially the general, before bunking up. We’ll have time to get bedding and kitchens set up after we leave atmosphere. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” The call was ringingly loud, even from only nineteen clones.

“So I’ll stay here, then, get a chance to say hello to everyone,” Taska said, only half-questioning. It was a solid plan. Morale and unity depended on everyone knowing and trusting one another, and that meant introducing herself as soon as possible.

“Yes, sir, I’m sure the rest of us are… eager to meet you,” Ace said, clearly trying his best to be polite.

She wrung her hands. “Right,” she echoed. “It looks like the first transport is coming in,” she nodded up to the open hangar doors, where three transports were lowering in in quick succession.

“There’ll be four more in a minute,” the clone told her. “There are 165 men in Hail company, including command. There’s probably about half of that just running this ship.”

“That’s a lot of people,” she muttered.

“Not really,” Ace disagreed. “There are at least four times that aboard each of those Star Destroyers.”

Taska smoothed the front of her robe. “Right. I know. It’s… it’s just good that I’m starting small, I suppose.”

Ace hummed almost imperceptibly in agreement.

---

The general and captain stood off to the side as the transports unloaded, all the men proceeding in mostly orderly lines to their sergeants and then the sergeants to their lieutenants. Hail Company was nothing if not efficient. “It looks like they’re about ready,” Ace said, though it was so quiet that Taska couldn’t be sure it was intended for her. She made her way in front of the crowd anyway.

“Attention!” Ace bellowed, voice ringing through the hangar. There was a loud crash as 164 feet stomped and 164 hands went to temples at once. “Our new general wants to speak!”

Taska thanked him and seemed to nearly float onto a nearby crate—one full of bedrolls, a glance at the label told—and went from being a foot shorter than the clones to a foot taller.

“Hello. My name is Taska Rokanh. I am a Jedi Knight. I am twenty-two years old, and I was knighted just about six standard months ago. I’ve lived most of my life on Coruscant, but I’ve studied cultures and environments from all over the galaxy, and been fortunate enough to visit several worlds. I’ve started to and will continue to intensely study the art of war so that I can be the best possible leader for you.” She tried her best to look at each individual clone. “I would like to get to know you all, so please don’t be… afraid to approach me. Don’t think that I will turn away your questions or dismiss your thoughts. Thank you. I will speak to you all again when we’re closer to Zarrebar.”

She hopped down on her own, and mentally, Ace scolded himself. He had seen shows and movies before. He should have thought to offer her his hand. It was the polite thing to do, something she would probably expect from a professional.

“Get to your assigned bunks and set up! There will be no trading, and there will be no pranks. I want us settled in before 0900 and ready to ship out!” He barked, and the hangar dissolved into a flurry of activity.

“I suppose I should do the same,” Taska said. “I think I saw my bags over there. Walk with me? I prefer not to be all alone.”

Ace almost forgot to speak. She was… seeking out his company? But they had only just met. And she was his superior. “Of course, General.”

“And… would you mind removing your helmet? I haven’t had a chance to speak to you face-to-face.”

He silently obeyed.

“Hi,” she said with a smile before sobering a bit. “I hope that’s not intrusive of me. With the way I was raised, I like to make connections.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Actually, I had a question for you.” Ace calmed himself silently. He hoped it wasn’t a strange, intelligent Jedi question that he wouldn’t be able to answer. “Have you studied a lot of strategy?”

“Extensively, sir,” Ace answered easily. That was a question he knew the answer to.

“Naval strategy as well?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” she breathed. “I wasn’t… I had my studies growing up, but they were mostly of the engineering, investigative, diplomatic sort. Nothing about commanding armies,” she chuckled nervously. “And I probably shouldn’t tell you that, what with me being in command and all, but I think you have a right to know that I will need your help.”

“Our first assignment is a good one to learn on, especially if you’re unfamiliar with army structure and protocol, sir,” Ace tried to provide some form of relief. “And that’s what I’m here for. To help you.”

Yeah, that sounded good.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“General Rokanh, sir!” A clone painted in green ran up before planting his feet and saluting. “I’ve been sent with a crate for you, sir!” As he spoke, another clone pushed the levitating package toward the group.

“Oh?” Taska said inquisitively. “Well, thank you. Ah, what is your name?”

“CT-1516, Sergeant in charge of mechanics, sir!” The clone responded, not breaking attention.

“You can put your arm down, you know,” Taska said gently, and waited for him to do so. “What is your name, Sergeant?”

“Greaser, sir,” he responded, still looking unsure.

“Thank you, Greaser,” Taska smiled. “Now, do please open this crate, I wasn’t expecting a delivery.”

He did as he was asked, and pulled a stout cylindrical droid from its depths.

“Aree!” Taska said with a smile as the droid was booted up. The chromium-and-ice blue droid whirred and spun its head in greeting.

“Aree?” Ace asked timidly.

“Well, his full name is R2-E3, but I shortened it to R-E, or Aree, I just like the sound of it,” the Jedi explained with a shrug. “How are you, bud?”

The mech gave a couple of happy chirps, and Taska laughed. “Yeah, we’ll finally get to put all that training to good use,” she agreed. “If you haven’t guessed yet, Aree is my astromech,” she told Ace. “We’ve been flying together since my first sim when I was about fourteen. He’s very experienced with repairs, but neither of us has a lot of practice with weapons systems,” Taska’s face became more serious as she spoke. “That’s something we’ll have to brush up on, eh?”

Ace stood by silently, slowly realizing that this Jedi felt very similar to himself—entirely unprepared.

He supposed they’d learn together.

---

Ace seemed worried. That was what kept Taska from sleeping as she lay in her new quarters. The floor was durasteel again, but this time, it vibrated. The light cruiser wasn’t as large as it seemed, and the dull thrum of the three powerful engines spread throughout the cruiser. Not that she minded. She could thrive in much more uncomfortable conditions. She had her meditation mat now, a few changes of clothes that she would put away in the morning, and a small folding table that she thought would probably fit best under the mirror someone had recently installed. That was all she needed. More than enough, really, so it wasn’t that that bothered her.

It was the ill feeling that rolled off of Captain Ace from the moment she met him. It wasn’t sinister by any means—he was clearly sincere and wanted to do a good job. But he was worried. For some reason, Taska wasn’t sure what. When she finally got a chance to look him in his honey-like eyes, they were just… uneasy. Wary. There was anxiety everywhere on the ship, but nothing like his. She didn’t think she was the cause. She hoped she wasn’t the cause. The clones were battle-ready, but Ace taught her something that day—they were also still very young.

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