Jedi Insurgency 337

Across a thousand worlds, from the pleasure palaces of Zeltros to the industrial wastelands of Eriadu, countless trillions had found themselves captivated by an extraordinarily unlikely spectacle: the wedding of a Jedi Knight.

More specifically, the wedding of Yon, disciple of the legendary Revan, Order Master of the Jedi and the most wanted man in the Galactic Empire.

For the better part of a month, the HoloNet had been positively consumed by the approaching celebration. Gossip columns speculated on everything from the bride's ancestry to the cost of the wedding arrangements. Political commentators debated the implications of a formal marriage alliance between the Jedi Coalition and Umbara's ruling families. Military analysts questioned whether the event represented an extraordinary lapse in judgment by the notoriously cunning masked man. 

The criminal underworld had taken an especially keen interest.

Hondo Ohnaka had cheerfully proclaimed that he would be attending the wedding as an honored guest, before attempting to sell exclusive broadcasting rights to no fewer than seventeen separate media conglomerates.

Fashion designers throughout the Core Worlds had begun advertising their interpretations of traditional Umbaran wedding attire. Influencers from Coruscant, Naboo, and Zeltros had arrived by the thousands, eager to capture footage of the galaxy's most controversial celebrities.

Even the Imperial HoloNet had struggled to ignore the festivities.

An entire generation had grown up believing that the Jedi were austere, detached warriors who rejected marriage and personal attachments. Yet here was the Order Master himself, enthusiastically arranging the marriage of his own student, apparently without the slightest concern for the ancient traditions he had inherited.

For some, it was an outrage. For others, it was the most romantic story of the decade. Naturally, the Imperial propagandists were quick to jump on the bandwagon, and use this event as yet another piece of evidence for Jedi hypocrisy. 

As for Corvus? It was yet another Tuesday in this grueling war 

Judging by the festivities unfolding beneath the perpetual darkness of Umbara, the deception was proceeding splendidly.

The capital of Umbara had been transformed. Its towering black spires were adorned with flowing silver banners, while thousands of bioluminescent lanterns illuminated the boulevards beneath. Exotic flowers imported from Naboo, Alderaan, and a dozen other worlds had been cultivated in magnificent gardens surrounding the ceremonial district.

Music echoed across the city as Zeltron performers entertained enormous crowds, their colorful costumes contrasting sharply with the pale complexions and somber clothing of their Umbaran hosts. Gungan musicians performed alongside Bith orchestras, and merchants sold refreshments from temporary stalls. Enormous holographic displays projected the smiling faces of the bride and groom over the rooftops, making sure everyone knew who the protagonists of the day were. 

Hundreds of thousands had gathered to witness the procession. Billions more watched through local broadcast networks. And over a trillion sentients followed the celebration through the HoloNet.

Within the Grand Palace, guests from across the galaxy mingled beneath an enormous vaulted ceiling of polished obsidian.

Senators, governors, admirals, merchants, bounty hunters, aristocrats, and Jedi shared drinks and exchanged pleasantries. Some had come out of genuine affection for the couple. Others sought political opportunities. A considerable number were present simply because attending the wedding of Revan's disciple was an opportunity too extraordinary to ignore.

The bridegroom himself appeared distinctly uncomfortable with the attention.

Yon stood near the ceremonial platform, wearing his standard Jedi robes, refusing to change into anything else.

He had spent the better part of the morning enduring the ministrations of Umbaran attendants, who had insisted upon arranging his hair, adjusting his clothing, and explaining the significance of various traditional ornaments in excruciating detail. None of that mattered much to him, as cultural studies were his lowest scored subject back in class. 

Beside him stood his bride, S'vala.

The pale-skinned Umbaran woman wore an elaborate gown of midnight silk, decorated with delicate silver threads that shimmered beneath the palace lights. Her white hair had been gathered into a beautiful arrangement of braids, although the expression upon her face suggested that she would have greatly preferred to be conducting an assassination.

The couple exchanged a few quiet words. Whatever Yon said earned him a sharp elbow to the ribs, and several nearby holocameras immediately captured the interaction. Within minutes, the footage would become one of the most widely shared recordings on the HoloNet.

In a hidden chamber just above the wedding procession, however, another conversation was taking place.

Marshal Pots was leaning against a wall, lazily glancing at an enormous tactical holoprojector with a cigar in his mouth. 

Years of warfare had left their marks upon him, although extensive cybernetic augmentation had rendered his physical capabilities vastly superior to those of an ordinary soldier. Beneath his custom-fitted beskar power armor, reinforced musculature and sophisticated mechanical systems had transformed him into something considerably more dangerous than the clone commander who had once served at the Chancellor's pleasure. At the moment, he was Revan’s man through and through. 

Across from him, Corvus was seated in a swivel chair, steepling his fingers deep in thought. Clad in immaculate white robes, the masked Jedi studied the tactical projection with his usual air of composed interest.

Hundreds of vessels drifted through the space surrounding Umbara.

Freighters, passenger liners, diplomatic transports, private yachts, and commercial shipping convoys, the congestion was extraordinary.

Pots regarded the display for several moments before speaking. "Never seen this many civilians gathered around a military objective." 

The Jedi chuckled quietly.

Outside the chamber, distant applause reverberated through the palace. Corvus adjusted the holoprojector, causing the image of Umbara to expand.

"Well, Marshal, what do you think of my wedding arrangements?"

Pots examined the display, then took a long drag of his cigar. “I thought you were going to use droids. Not that I'm complaining.” 

Corvus sighed, then shook his head helplessly. “That was the plan, but who knew Hondo, and our newest Prime Minister of Zeltros would insist on using this marriage to boost their own brands? I could hardly turn them away, lest I risk making the ambush appear totally fake. The best I could do on such short notice is to create a civilian exclusive zone on the other side of the planet. The second the enemy arrives, everyone will be escorted to that region.” 

“Heh. You're overly relying upon those mines, General. Just because it worked for the blue bastard, doesn't mean they'll work for you.” Pots scoffed, then grinned. 

"Forty-three million naval mines, distributed across seven primary approach corridors and their associated hyperspace emergence zones. Some are conventional proton devices. Others employ ion charges, electromagnetic disruption systems, or specialized warheads designed to cripple capital-ship propulsion." Corvus said with pride, and then tapped a few more buttons, revealing new data on the HoloDisplay. 

"Another twelve million are dormant, awaiting activation orders. They are concealed among the asteroid fields and shipping debris that litter the surrounding systems."

Pots narrowed his eyes, then laughed as realization dawned on him. "You're telling me those cargo manifests listing ornamental fountains and flower arrangements were carrying naval mines?"

"Approximately forty percent of our military supplies entered the sector aboard legitimate commercial transports. Another thirty percent were transported by vessels carrying diplomatic credentials. The remainder arrived aboard freighters whose manifests were altered by our friends in the Trade Federation."

‘About time they came in clutch.’ Corvus thought to himself, still somewhat salty at the useless lot in the CIS. 

Pots studied the expanding tactical picture.

"That's a hell of a supply chain. What kind of fleet elements have you scrounged up for this operation? Not that I doubt you, General, but you'll leave other zones vulnerable if you place all your eggs in one basket.” Pots warned, offering up solid advice. 

The Jedi expanded the projection again. This time, dozens of enormous capital ships appeared beyond the sector's principal hyperspace lanes.

Pots recognized the configuration immediately.

"Interdictors, huh? You really don't want the Empire to get away. Heh. Fighting a cornered beast, I wouldn't have it any other way.” Pots aggressively growled, then puffed out a thick cloud of smoke. 

“A full 28 of them. Trust me, my friend, I understand Vader. Although he is no longer the brash Skywalker, his arrogance has more than doubled since he started wearing that black cloak.” Corvus confidently stated. “He will come to Umbara.” 

Pots leaned closer, stroking the stubble on his chin. "That's enough gravity-well coverage to turn the entire sector into a prison."

"Four groups will remain hidden beyond the primary shipping lanes. Another two have been positioned along the most probable Imperial withdrawal routes. The remaining vessels form our reserve." Corvus explained. 

"That's a dangerous game, General. I like it. Meet them head on, like men…but leave a little leeway incase things go south. Very clever.” Pots nodded, beginning to get onboard with the plan. 

Pots studied the projected battlefield. His eyes moved across the various indicators, measuring distances, possible firing solutions, and the vulnerability of the hidden ships.

Then he understood.

"You're going to let them think they've broken through the outer defenses. A classic trap of over extension.” 

"Precisely. The idea is to give them a taste of victory, and make them push harder in their offense. Thrawn would never fall for it, but Vader is a different animal. Without a higher authority, or skilled Jedi like Kenobi to hold him back, Vader is a rogue element.” Corvus smiled along. 

The Marshal removed a compact tactical stylus from his belt and began marking possible Imperial attack routes. "All right. Mines and interdiction. That takes care of their mobility. What about firepower?"

Corvus made another adjustment, and the holographic representation of Umbara flickered. Then, across the entire sector, thousands of friendly military signatures appeared.

Pots raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Behold the generosity of our wedding guests." Corvus said, spreading his arms wide. 

The first formations were clustered around the planet's moons.

"Three Zeltron expeditionary groups have arrived under the protection of diplomatic shipping agreements. Their crews are currently enjoying shore leave while their vessels undergo what the official records describe as routine maintenance.

The Zeltrons have contributed more than ships. Their technicians have spent the last two weeks upgrading Umbara's planetary shield generators. They've also supplied several thousand atmospheric fighters, electronic warfare platforms, and mobile defensive installations."

He pointed toward the planet's equatorial regions.

"Much of their equipment was imported as lighting apparatus for the celebrations."

Pots smirked. "Let me guess. The fireworks?"

"They've been replaced by advanced orbital flak batteries. Those decorative towers are now long-range sensor arrays, and the giant floating sculptures over the city are shield projection platforms." Corvus said with pride. 

Even though the Empire knew this was a trap, that didn't mean he could afford to skimp out on the deception. After all, to the galaxy at large, this was a grand alliance wedding. An event pushing for peace. Should he win or lose this battle, regardless of the outcome, he would win the moral victory. Whilst the loss of Umbara would seriously suck, it would be like the death of a martyr. With trillions of viewers from across the galaxy, recruitment numbers would soar. And should he win? It would prove that the Lightside was behind the Jedi, that their cause was a just one vanquishing evil. 

Pots scratched his chin. "Any part of this wedding actually a wedding?"

"Yon and S'vala are getting married. This alliance is more than symbolic. For example, the Umbarans have been equally industrious. Their shadow fighters have been dispersed throughout underground hangars, and their militia has mobilized beneath the pretext of ceremonial security."

"How many troops? Think it will matter against the Empire's supposed billion droid army?” Pots asked with a furrowed brow. 

"Approximately 50 million under arms, with another 50 million if things go awry.” Corvus said. 

Pots whistled softly. "That's quite a wedding guard."

"The Umbarans are taking their new alliance very seriously." Corvus said, omitting the fact that he had basically strong armed or removed all of their leadership. 

“Hmph. I still don't trust them. I'd watch out for any sneaky business if I were you, General. The shield generators, for example. I want them to be guarded by the brothers.” Pots said, shaking his head in disagreement. 

Corvus paused his speech to consider, then snapped his fingers. “See? This is why you're so important Pots, and wear the best Beskar. See to it.” 

“Way ahead of you, sir.” Pota ferally grinned, and began to tap away at his dataslate. 

For several moments, the two commanders watched the icons shift across the holoprojector. Outside, music swelled as the festivities reached another crescendo.

“This one feels different. Are you expecting to hold out for a long time? I'm reading these shipping manifests, and the amount of armor & portable shield generators is enough to bankrupt a Mid Rim planet several times over.” Pots said in one part concern, one part excitement. 

"I am preparing for one. The beskar I made on Axion was enough to arm several million men. And I'm just getting started. Vader has his billion, but my quality will be better than his quantity.” Corvus firmly stated. 

Pots gave a grunt of approval. The old soldier had served under enough generals to distinguish genuine preparation from empty confidence. Corvus possessed an almost infuriating abundance of the latter, but he had never mistaken it for the former.

"There's something else bothering me…Vader. He's got the ships. He's got the troops. And we both know he wants your head mounted over that fancy throne of his, but Vader isn't stupid." Pots said, frowning between puffs of his cigar. 

Corvus remained silent, waiting to see where his #1 military mind was going with this. 

"And Thrawn's even worse. I've read the reports. That Chiss admiral has been holding Imperial territory together while half their command staff runs around trying to impress Palpatine. He knows how to fight a war. And so I ask myself. why would he bring an entire fleet into an obvious trap?"

Corvus remained silent for a moment, then the tactical projection changed. "Tell me, Marshal. What would happen if the Empire declined to attack Umbara?"

Pots considered the question. "We'd finish the wedding."

"Indeed, and then?” 

"The Umbarans would have time to rebuild their military. Zeltron trade would start flowing through the system. We'd have a forward base right on their doorstep into the Core, and this entire trade route would belong to us.” Pots listed out each objective one after another. Speaking from his experience as a soldier, weapons, reinforcements, and logistics were the things most prescient on his mind. 

"And the HoloNet?" Corvus teased. 

Pots glanced toward the windows, where fireworks had begun illuminating the distant sky, and countless influencers were talking into their hovering drone droids like a hive of bees. 

"They wouldn't shut up about it for months. I'm sure the dastards would call it something overly dramatic like ‘The Umbaran Incident’ or ‘Revan's Revenge.’ 

Corvus nodded along with a small chuckle. The Jedi then paced slowly around the holoprojector.

"The Empire has spent considerable resources portraying our coalition as a desperate collection of fugitives, criminals, and traitors. Yet here we are, openly celebrating a marriage between a Jedi Knight and an influential Umbaran family. Our allies are arriving openly, merchants are conducting business, diplomats are making agreements. The galaxy is witnessing an alternative to Imperial rule."

Pots understood. "You're daring them to stop it."

"They have no choice." Corvus smugly rebutted. Corvus gestured toward the map. "If Vader attacks, we have an opportunity to cripple a substantial portion of the Imperial fleet. If Thrawn refuses the engagement, Umbara emerges as an immensely valuable Republic stronghold. Either outcome benefits us."

Pots studied the sector boundaries.

"And if Thrawn does something else entirely?"

"Then we adapt. Our principal mobile formations remain distributed across multiple fronts. Admiral Clip's successors have been informed of the possibility of an Imperial offensive. The Corellians and Alderaanians have been instructed to maintain their readiness. We have also increased reconnaissance throughout the Galactic North."

Pots tilted his head.

"You think that's where he'll strike?"

"It would be an intelligent choice. Particularly with the Mon Calamari occupied and Sev'rance Tann's whereabouts uncertain."

The Marshal sighed.

"Then you already know the enemy might not take the bait."

"Naturally."

"And you're still throwing the biggest wedding in the galaxy."

Corvus looked toward the distant festivities. "Marshal, whatever happens, Yon deserves his wedding."

There was an unexpected sincerity in the Jedi's voice.

"He has fought for our cause, and has endured hardship and shed blood alongside his comrades since he was 14. An attractive murderous woman suits him quite nicely, don't you think?" Corvus lightly laughed. 

Pots gave a small nod.

"Fair enough."

"Besides, the opportunity to irritate Darth Vader is an attractive secondary consideration."

That earned another dry chuckle from the veteran clone. "You're a dangerous man, General."

Corvus shook his head, then looked back at the HoloProjector. No one else could sense Vader like him. To other Jedi, the Dark Lord of the Sith was like a black hole. But for him, he could sense the Chosen of the Force just as easily as he could sense Jax, Yon, Keira, or Tann. Like someone he had a Force Bond with, yet estranged. That was why he was so confident. 

The time for their reunion was nigh. Corvus flexed his gloved fist. This past month, he had conquered four planets, slaughtered countless Imperials, and [Healed] billions of people. His power had never been higher as a result. 

Level 42 -> 45

He stared at his System screen, unable to look away from the bright blue words:

[Order Master unlocked]

Soon. 

~~~~~~~~~

AN: Power tier list: 

VI = Master (high) lvl 36-39

VII = Council Master lvl 40-44

VIII = Order Master lvl 45-49

IX = Grandmaster/Dark Lord of the Sith lvl 50

X = ???