- Alpha Labs, Coruscant....'The Works' industrial Area....

They all sat in order, talking; jabbing one another as the all too familiar voice droned on with its preparatory propaganda before initiating the questions. It was a scenario they were all to used to.

<”Your Duty is to your Republic”>

They didn’t play or razz one another like normal children. Even when they whispered or talked among themselves, something that developed among them in the past few years. They still sat at their desks and held their composures as well-disciplined young men and women. It was a tight group. Even Hamner, who had grown out of the aggressiveness toward his pod mates.

<”There is no higher calling than service, to the Republic”>

Karolin had the top of her holo-screen flipped upright, using it as a reflective device. Moving her hands through her hair and tilting her head left then right as she adjusted her raven black hair. Mrysti pursed her lips and scoffed at her sister. Causing the other, smaller Mirialan to turn slightly and make a face the other direction. “Just because you don’t care doesn’t mean I have to. I like the way I look. I want others to like it too.” Managing to get her hands on some make-up from one of the psychological interns, Karolin poked out her lips and applied some gloss with the tip of her pinky. Moving her lips in a wave afterward to spread the applied gloss evenly afterward. Trea’vor was turned in his seat watching her, after she finished; setting down the screen back on the surface of the desk, she smiled at him. Trea’vor shook his head.

“You don’t need that stuff. You’re beautiful without it.”

“Thank you, Trea’vor…” Karolin shot an annoyed glance at her sister. “That’s very sweet.” Not to leave out Mrysti, who sat just as high in her desk and was as large if not larger than Trea’vor; he looked over at the red-haired Mirialan and quickly added.

“So are you Mrysti, you don’t need that stuff.”

“See…I told you Karolin.”

“Oh, shut up…both of you…”

<”Service to the Republic, is its own reward.”>

“Hey.” Hamner leaned down turning around in his desk to look back at Marstel. The only person who sat behind him. “Check this out.” In his hand he held a datapad, something he snuck into the class room after slipping it off the desk of one of the Scientists. “You ever seen the restricted Holo-net?” Hamner cut the device on and typed in a few codes to access the area of the holo-net reserved for adults. Images played out. Men and women dancing. Advertisements for something called ‘Escorts’. Marstel’s eyes got wide. “Pretty neat, huh?”

Reaching forward, Marstel took the datapad from Hamner. The Zabrak started to say something, Marstel looked up sharply and making Hamner change his mind.

“Pretty neat…” Marstel repeated. His eyes glued to the images playing in front of him.

The soft tone of three bells made all of the children stop talking and turn around in their seats. Blue holo-fields emerged from the projection plates in their desk and all of them placed their hands in the field like they had so many times before.

The computerized voice was always of feminine design. The voice was soft and warm as it asked the children, who were not really children anymore, technical questions concerning the many subjects they learned. Some of the subjects being things a ‘child’ should have no knowledge of.

<”A phased battle line of armored carriers and dismounted troops have come under attack before reaching the designated target area. What would be the appropriate formation for these forces to take before proceeding on to their objective?”>

Trea’vor hit the button almost before the voice stopped speaking. The move got a rebuke from Karolin who hissed his direction. Trea’vor smiled as he typed his answer turning to look at Karolin from his desk and giving her a slight wink.

<”Correct-001 All troop formations would spread into individual travel patterns and continue on to the objective.”>

<”What is the maximum effective range of the DC-5 Blaster Rifle…”>

Trea’vor typed in his answer before the others once again and pressed the button. “That’s two for two” Trea’vor announced, looking over his shoulder at the others. Trea’vor was at the head of the class. Not because he was smarter, but because the children sat in their numerical orders. Karolin hissed again, leaning forward to hit him on his shoulder.

“Let some of us answer some!!”

<”Correct – 001 The Maximum effective range is 1000 meters”>

<”The wave sign of this hyperdrive field is imbalanced."> The computer projected from its platform in the ceiling an advanced formula that was unsolved. It floated in the blue ions above them, spinning slowly as all of them looked up at it. <"Using the terminal in front of you; solve the wave sign and balance the hyperdrive field before it destabilizes….”>

Karolin was already typing. A smile on her face as her hands moved quickly under the blue field of the holo terminal. She slapped the submit button loudly, laughing at the others. It got a collective grumble from the other four in the room.

<”Correct-002 The hyperdrive field has been stabilized”>

<”Calculate the equation given with the following planetary variables: ”>

Again the computer projected another formula. The second one was longer and had many levels. Some of them two and three dimentional. Caluclating the gravity and wind sheer of a planet on approach within a starship was something computers onboard a starship did without the input of operators. Somethign far advanced for a humanoid mind to calculate as a starship hurled toward a planet at speed.

“Oh, one of THOSE questions…” Mrysti exclaimed, looking over at her sister with a sinister grin. Both of their hands primed; awaiting the variables for the planet in question.

<”Planetary wind shear: 27 Gravimetric Shear: 18 Fluidic: 10 Speed: 255”>

They all typed fast. Karolin, Mrysti, Trea’vor and Hamner all looked up as the buzzer sounded. All eyes turning toward one another. None of the four having answered it, they turned their heads to look at Marstel. The big Ratataki looked down shyly, refusing to look at any of them.

“Marstelllll…” Karolin spoke excitedly turning around with the others to look at the last desk in the classroom. The words almost a question, a bit of surprise as she said his name. Karolin flashed him a lazy wink, smiling as she turned back around in her desk. Marstel continued to look down and away. Embarrassed by the fact that he was able to solve the equation.

<”Palgos Theory of Humanoid Versus Environment states: Humanoids as well as all life are all products of their environment, evidenced by the many different races which exist throughout the galaxy. But remove a being from their born environment placing them in a radically changed one and they adapt according to their individual gifts. Answer aloud and either refute or support the theory giving one example.”>

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Hamner hit his buzzer first, standing as he looked up at the glowing half globe like apparatus which was monitoring them all in the room.

“Humanoids and life in general will always struggle to survive in an environment which is not suited to their individual needs. But if life survives in an environment they were not originally designed to operate within; over time their genetic make-up will adapt so their progeny can survive and flourish in said hostile environment. I give the Horn snail of Duros as my example. Stowaways on a transport a thousand years ago from an unknown world, they now flourish on Duros. Scientists determined that the Horn Snail originated on a world whose atmosphere was comprised of mostly poisonous poly-carbons.”

<”Correct 004 – Excellent Example”>

The horn sounded, all five of them sitting up to look toward the door located in the corner of the room. Smiling, as the Jedi Matron entered. The Matron looked somber, her hands folded within the folds of her robe.

“That will be all for today.” Looking at each one of them in turn, The Matron forced a smile and turned to allow all of them to get out of the desks and walk toward the door. As Trea’vor passed, being the last one out, the Matron placed a hand on his shoulder holding him back. He looked over at her expectantly. “Karolin…Mrysti…” The two Mirialan sisters stopped and turned back. They noticed the Matron holding Trea’vor back, figuring he done something to raise the Matron’s hackles in some way. They quickly re-entered the room and stood before the Jedi. “…I have some exciting news for the both of you. ‘They’ have arranged for you both to be sent to the Temple here on Coruscant. We will speak more about it later, but I wanted you both to get prepared.”

Mrysti, already three heads taller than Karolin looked down at her sister and smiled shyly. Everyone knew the ‘they’ the Matron spoke of. The scientists and administrators that oversaw everything they did. The news got a frown from Trea’vor; Karolin reaching out to squeeze his arm. “Run along now, I need to speak to Trea’vor.”

Already a very large young man, Trea’vor towered over the diminutive Matron. She smiled warmly, forcing back tears; trying to bring herself to tell him what he needed to know. He could tell something was wrong, placing a hand over hers that was squeezing his arm.

“They are breaking us up?” Trea’vor asked the question before looking at the Matron, following his two sisters with his eyes as they disappeared down the hall. “Mother Jedi, what’s wrong…” It had been several years since they all started calling the old Matron ‘Mother Jedi’. She looked down and composed herself, forcing a look upward. Steeling herself against the words.

“Trea’vor…you have all been such bright spots on an otherwise dull Jedi’s life.”

“We all feel the same way, Mother.”

“I tried, I did everything I could…for all of you. When they moved you from Corellia, I insisted that I accompany all of you here. To safeguard you, watch over and ensure—” The Jedi choked up, Trea’vor closed his hand tightly around the Matron’s

“What’s wrong?”

“I want you to know…we are coming to the end of our journey together. I am being recalled to the Temple, my health—” The Jedi froze and looked down. “—I am not in the best of health Trea’vor. But there is something you need to know.”

“Is it you?!? You’re sick…they have Doctors here, lots of them. We can—”

“No, no…this isn’t about me.” She forced a warm smile, clearly in some sort of pain as she continued to speak. “It’s just my time, love. The Force has a plan for us all. In you, I found my own. But now the Force has another plan for me and it is calling me back. I told you I was leaving because I will no longer be able to protect any of you. But this…this last thing is for you and you alone.” The Matron stood a bit taller patting the hand which was holding her. “You are their leader, Trea’vor. They all look up to you and what you do, they will follow.” The Matron stifled a cough. Trea’vor pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to lead her from the room. She stopped them before they got to far down the hall. “Trea’vor….these men, they have plans for all of you. You’re not just normal—well children are the wrong words now. You are all so much bigger…” Reaching up she touched his cheek and smiled. “…but you’re not like others. You were designed, nurtured since we found you all; to be something else. I don’t know exactly what dark plan awaits all of you, but I do know that what’s in here—” The Matron poked his chest. “—this they can never and will ever be able to touch. I did the best I could for all of you. Raised you in the best way I knew how. Tried to instill in all of you to do what’s right, be honest always and defend those who need your help. I want you to remember that. No matter what they ask you to do, what they ‘force’ you to do…YOU will always know what’s right because of that heart. Don’t forget that.”

She let him go, staggering away. Having to stop to hold herself up by leaning on the wall before she made it further. Trea’vor tried to go to her, but the Matron waved him off. He watched as she disappeared down the hall. The sound of boots coming from the other direction made him turn.

“Alpha Zero-Zero-One – Trea’vor Alpha…” The young Zabrak turned and nodded toward the two men in uniform. “There is a situation on the main bridge connecting the commercial and residential districts. The rest of your team is already aboard and awaiting your arrival. This is a live field test.”

“Team? You mean my brothers and sisters?” The two men looked at one another as Trea’vor made the correction. “Never mind, take me to them. I’m ready…”

--

Tarkin moved from the observation window after the children left the room. “Remarkable” he said to himself, though his aides who were loitering nearby looked up at his words. “They are…far beyond the scope of what the project originally intended.”

“Yes, Sir…” One of the aides spoke handing Tarkin a datapad over his shoulder. “We are weeks away from phase three. Separating them and sending them on to their respective trainings programs.”

Turning sharply, Tarkin narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t bothered to look at the datapad which was handed to him. “The potential for exposure concerning this portion of the project would be at an all time high. "Are we sure the Alpha Labs can’t provide the proper level of instruction to complete the remainder of the project?”

Another person spoke up. A scientist that was sitting in the dark watching not only the children, but Tarkin as well. He spoke with the disdain he had for Tarkin as well as most administrators.

“Mr. Tarkin…I’m Dr. Vizu Hardiman…” The Doctor stood, nodding Tarkin’s direction. He noticed the Doctor was a Chagrian, the large soft looking horns which protruded from his head and tails down both shoulders causing Tarkin to back up a step. Tarkin was well known in his dislike for alien races. “…I have been with the project since the beginning. So, I can answer that question most assuredly with, ‘No’. There is no way to further advance their ‘education’. At least not without great expense to Czerka and the Republic. That’s to say nothing of the three force using specimens. We would have to reconstruct literally thousands of years of tradition and regimented instruction that the Jedi have made common place within their Temples.”

“And are we sure…” Tarkin began, taking his time to frame the question right. “…we have done everything in our power to ensure no other ‘treatments’ are necessary on our end?”

“You refer to the protocol.” Hardiman smiled. “Infusion is at one-hundred percent. ‘Killswitch’ has been installed according to design. There are literally no other portions of the project left to experiment with or apply to these specimens. They are ready. And only advanced knowledge and experience of the lessons we’ve already been teaching them can further expand their effectiveness. As a matter of fact, they are heading for a live field test as we speak.”

“Good.” Tarkin raised a finger after he spoke. “But I don’t want our specimens damaged. If the test begins to go astray, pull them out. Far too much has been invested in them to simply throw it all away on a catastrophic accident. Innocents die all the time. No need to have our prized weapon systems be part of the loss.”

They all filed out. As the Doctor passed, Tarkin called for him. “Doctor…if you would, remain a moment.” They both waited until the door slid shut and knew they were alone. Tarkin turned with a smile and offered the other man a seat before he sat down. “I’m sure you’ve heard about me, no doubt some of it exaggerated and grossly unpleasant. I’ve only just come on board this portion of the project to give my input, at the ‘tail end’ it would seem. This appears to be the end for you as well, I would imagine.”

“I have other projects I’ve been assigned to, but yes…as far as Alpha Pod and the children go; once they ship out for training, my work here is complete.”

“Excellent.” Tarkin gave a toothy grin. “As you may or may not know, I have been involved with another portion of the project. I’ve seen your name come up in some of the literature regarding the genetic predisposition involving Jedi and Midichlorians. Some of your work has been used in the fashioning and replication of that portion of the project. And I was wondering…” Tarkin leaned in slightly. “…how would you like to ‘advise’ me on some of the more ‘elusive’ aspects concerning my own portion of the project?”

“Some of my work may have been used, none of it producing any results.” Hardiman searched Tarkin a moment. “If you’re offering me a job, I would have to accept. Especially if it keeps me involved with some aspect of these children.”

“In a round-about sort of way, yes.” Tarkin stood and paced to the window, clasping his hands behind his back he looked through the double-sided glass into the empty classroom. “Are you familiar with the incident involving the death of the Jedi Grandmaster?”