                                Star Wars 

                           Wizard's RPG Stories

          source : http://www.wizards.com/default.asp?x=starwars/newsarchive
          upload : 10.IV.2006


     Zero Zero Zero

     By Morrie Mullins

     In a recent article  appearing  on  Cularin's  holonets,  Senator  Lavina
Wren's performance during an impassioned speech to  the  Galactic  Senate  was
likened to that of a female gundark protecting her young. "It was," the author
said, "a display of barely contained rage. All teeth and muscle, Senator  Wren
pounded her podium hard enough that it spewed forth a shower  of  sparks  that
caught the hem of her robe on fire. If  the  Senator  noticed  the  smoke  and
flames before her aides put it out, she gave no sign. She was too busy  daring
the Senate to ignore Cularin's plight, calling into question  the  loyalty  of
anyone who refused to assist her home, who ignored the fact  that  the  single
largest Jedi training facility outside of Coruscant might be in danger. Only a
rebuke from the Supreme Chancellor himself quieted the  furious  Senator.  She
took a deep breath and asked permission to lodge a third  formal  request  for
military assistance. Her voice, calm and dangerous, offered none of  the  fear
her aides - - their faces pale and drawn behind her - - clearly  felt  at  the
request. They knew, as she must, that  a  third  denial  of  assistance  would
indicate that the Senate viewed the request as frivolous, and  would  consider
no further requests for assistance for the duration of whatever current crisis
the system faced..."

     What follows is the Lady Senator's subsequent address to  the  people  of
Cularin, delivered after the Senate's decision. (The information in her speech
ties in to "Decision: Coruscant," the latest scenario  for  the  Living  Force
campaign.)

     Citizens of Cularin. It will come as no surprise to anyone that  the  war
across the galaxy seems to be escalating. Many  lives  have  been  lost,  many
worlds ruined, by the forces of the Confederacy of Independent Systems and  an
insidious enemy who seems, if reports are true,  to  have  begun  specifically
targeting Jedi for extermination. When the war was just a war - - in the sense
that any war is ever "just" anything - - I found myself able to understand the
Senate's reluctance to provide assistance to our  home.  Understand,  but  not
accept.

     Toward the end of last year, I filed my first formal request for military
assistance to the Senate. The request was denied after minimal discussion, and
I did not fight it openly. There are times and places to fight, but the flight
deck of a ship whose pilot is trying to navigate a drunken asteroid  field  is
not one of them. When  you  find  yourself  in  such  a  situation,  the  only
responsible thing to do is step back and wait. Go aft, find a quiet  place  to
sit and collect your thoughts. Save the fighting for a time when it won't  get
everyone on board killed, or for a time when not fighting will send your  ship
hurtling into the nearest sun.

     The first petition is protocol. That's the way of things. I knew  nothing
would come of it, but as I told you when last I addressed Cularin,  I  had  to
ask, and I had to recognize that Cularin is  uniquely  capable  of  protecting
herself. There's no need, I thought, to call in a Jedi-led clone army. We have
our own Jedi army, and we have the people of Cularin herself. I  cannot  think
of a stronger, more capable people than you. Perhaps they exist  somewhere  in
the galaxy. If they do, the Confederacy armies should beware of them, just  as
they are clearly wary of Cularin.

     It was protocol, but it was necessary protocol. To not  file  a  petition
under those circumstances would have taken away the possibility of  requesting
aid if the situation were to escalate. It would have set us adrift  without  a
locator beacon. So I filed, I was denied, and the universe went on.

     Three months ago, one of my senior aides informed me that another  threat
had arisen within Cularin. She assured me that while our citizens had risen to
the challenge, this situation might be a sign of new dangers.

     This forced me to make a difficult  decision.  As  pilot  of  our  shared
vessel, whenever threats arise, I have three switches on my control panel that
I can flip to attempt evasive maneuvers. The first of these, I flipped when  I
lodged my initial petition for military aid. This switch rarely does  anything
but prime the ship's engines, but sometimes, that's all it takes. It  was  not
so in this case, so now I had only two switches left. Put differently, I could
petition for assistance twice more within the year. But  no  more  than  that.
Each petition requires a separate vote, and if three votes are  denied  within
the space of a year, the petitioning system is  treated  as  making  frivolous
requests. Past Senators have abused the willingness  of  the  Senate  to  hear
requests for assistance, and Supreme Chancellor  Palpatine  wisely  enacted  a
restriction on the number  of  such  requests  that  may  be  heard  from  the
representatives of any system.

     The decision, then, was whether to flip the second switch - - whether  to
ask the Senate for aid and risk being refused. I spoke at length with Sa'arli,
my aide, and decided to petition once more. The situation in Cularin seemed to
have become direr, and in my judgment, the lack  of  progress  and  a  rumored
increase in the Thaereian Navy justified a second petition.

     The fight this time was harder. I asked, I pleaded, I made the case  that
Cularin needed to be protected. We might not be at the center of  the  galaxy,
but we are its very heart. We are the people who make the galaxy what  it  is.
We are a microcosm of all the galaxy has to offer, with  hundreds  of  species
represented, with our growing Militia, with a Jedi Academy, and with  our  own
invading army. Beyond all of that, Cularin has faced threats the rest  of  the
galaxy can only imagine. I won't enumerate them now - -  you  live  with  them
every day. But I stood before the Senate and listed the threats faced  by  the
heroes of Cularin over the past decade. Point by point, I  went  through  what
you have been forced to endure. I provided them with a list of  the  names  of
the brave individuals of many species who have given their lives in defense of
our home.

     I could not have made a stronger case. I could not have shown the  Senate
my love for my home, and your willingness to fight  for  our  home,  any  more
clearly. The Senate voted.

     The petition was denied.

     There is no time for self-blame in politics. Things are  what  they  are,
and we cannot dwell on them. It's one of the first lessons learned  by  anyone
entering the political arena.

     It's one I still haven't learned as well as I'd like.

     My weakness - - and I tell you  this  now,  Cularin,  so  that  you  will
understand me all the better when the time comes to decide if I will  continue
to represent you in the Senate - - is that I love  my  home  too  deeply.  Too
completely. Any failure is unacceptable to me, if  it  means  my  people  will
suffer. There can be no justification for suffering in Cularin. There  can  be
no "acceptable" level of loss. But this is exactly what the  Senate  told  me.
"Cularin has taken losses, but every system has taken losses, and Cularin  has
managed to hold its own thus  far  without  intervention.  Be  proud  of  your
people, Senator Wren. You're right that they are the heart of the galaxy,  but
the heart must beat on its own. It must be trusted to keep up its  rhythm.  If
you attempt surgery on a healthy heart, you risk the entire  body,  especially
when there are other wounds that must be treated first."

     In my pride, I represented you too truthfully. I  could  have  downplayed
your strengths. That is not, however, the way I view Cularin. The  surest  way
for me to be voted out of office would be to call my people "weak" in order to
bring outside forces to our aid.

     Then I realized that the second  surest  way  would  be  to  fail  to  do
whatever I can to keep you alive. In short, there  is  nothing  I  can  do  to
extend my political career.

     This realization freed  me.  I  cannot  possibly  continue  to  represent
Cularin if my focus is on my career. My career can rot. Elect me next time  or
don't. Right now, I can't say that I care. The only  thing  I  care  about  is
keeping my people alive and piloting our ship to safety.

     I could have petitioned again immediately, but I knew the outcome of such
a petition. It would be denied, and we would be on our own. Then, last week, I
learned more of the leader of the Confederacy army, a  general  who  seems  to
exist to kill Jedi. My heart nearly stopped. If the goal of this  creature  is
to kill Jedi, then the single place where he can do the most damage is in  our
home. It wouldn't just be the Jedi who died, though. He  would  come  with  an
army, and Cularin would be wiped from the galaxy.

     It never crossed my mind that a  third  petition  might  be  denied.  The
threat was so obvious, so direct, that there could be no way that a reasonable
Senate could deny my request. I prepared my speech. I scrapped  my  speech.  I
prepared another, then a third.

     When I stood before the Senate, I ignored everything I had written and  I
spoke from my heart. By now, you've seen the recordings. Most  of  the  galaxy
has seen the recordings. You know that I held nothing back.

     I shouted. I stomped. I dared them to ignore our plight.

     After I finished to a resounding silence, the Senate took my dare.

     There will be no help from the armies of the  Republic  for  Cularin.  We
will fight our own war, as we have always fought our own wars.

     And we will win. Because we are Cularin. Because this is our home. I will
continue the fight from here, but if the day comes that the battles reach your
doorsteps, look for me. On that day, I will come home,  and  I  will  draw  my
blaster, and I will fight beside you.

     On that day, and until that day, may the Force be with Cularin.