Chapter 63: Politics

Summary: The return of a certain former Queen, and a bit of a peak through them at Tythe Central.

Chapter 63: Politics

Padmé grimaced at the look Sabé was giving her. Sighing, she forced herself to stop pacing, sit, and slip into a meditative exercise she'd been forced to learn in the last few months. She fed her worries, anger, frustration, and annoyance into the mental image of a flame. She let the flame burn each of them away, one by one, until there was nothing left but emptiness. Mostly. Supposedly the technique, properly learned, would leave one with a Void of calm that you could act within. A sort of sea of tranquility. That, however, was for masters who had been practicing the trick for years or decades. Padmé had yet to truly achieve that 'Void' state. But even the crude facsimile she had learned did a marvelous job of helping her focus.

She found it more than a little bitterly ironic that she'd gotten through multiple actual battles, as a fourteen-year-old no less, without having focus issues. Only to discover that juggling the stresses and complexity of politics on a galactic level was so much worse that it caused her to need meditation training. She'd had actual training, most of her life, for the political game. But she'd somehow found the relative chaos of battle easier to manage than the web and weaving of interlinked galactic power brokering and backstabbing. If something hadn't practically set the Senate on fire so early in her senatorial career, she supposed it might have been the case. But something, or someone if you looked at it a certain way, had done that. So Padmé had found herself in need of something to help center her.

If she let herself dwell on that, it was positively depressing.

Thankfully, the flame had burned that thought out easily enough, along with the worries.

Equilibrium regained, she received a pleased nod from Sabé, who'd taught her the trick in the first place. With her mind cleared, at least for the moment, she focused on the door of the conference room. They were early, rather than Master Midoriya being late, and that hadn't been by accident. They'd wanted to get some impressions of Tythe Central, the impressively massive space station that apparently acted as the seat of power for the immodestly named League of Free Stars. Logical, given it currently officially contained only a single star system. Though they'd picked up whispers that a few more worlds, ones taken by local rebellions rather than conquered by the League, were already organizing for entry as member worlds. A series of facts which, combined with how few people had traveled in and out of Tythe recently, had led them to be uncertain what to expect. A barely-there, threadbare and military-oriented station? A plush statement of power? They'd expected to glean quite a bit from the state of the station.

To be fair. They'd even been right.

The problem was that what they'd gleaned was confusing as fuck.

Tythe Central was, just for a start, massive. Oh, it wasn't Centerpoint Station massive or anything. But the 44.7km long and 12.8km wide station was the sort of thing one normally only saw in the Core. It also wasn't even remotely a standard design, being almost as much of a work of art as a space station, which made it stand out even from Core World designs that were as big or bigger. The station had a central ring, from which five arms protruded, each 43.6 kilometers long and 330 meters thick. Those arms, which they'd been told could shift between 'open' and 'closed,' were currently 'closed' as a security measure.

It was easy to see why that was, as the 'top' side of each arm was made of extremely tough armor-glass of some kind, under which cityscapes could be seen. With the station 'open,' each of those arms would give the impression of a city under glass, hovering in space. Closed, the 'cities' faced each other instead, presenting the far more heavily armored hulls of their bottoms to any enemy. Any ship trying to get within those arms to assail the 'glass' would find themselves vulnerable to fire from all sides and ripped to pieces. All for little enough gain even if somehow they survived to open fire on the supposedly vulnerable glass. The openly available statistics for the station, incomplete as they were, explained that each of those 'vulnerable glass' ceilings were covered by multiple layers of potent shielding.

The entire thing was both a breathtaking work of art and a feat of engineering that made it very clear you weren't dealing with the sort of hardscrabble third-rate worlds typical of the Outer Rim. A pair of statements that were only emphasized after you actually boarded the station and looked…just about anywhere, really. Not only was everything clean and well maintained, but there was a tech level on open display that would normally be reserved for only the elite of society. Shops had tasteful advertising projected in high-resolution, full-color holo-form. The extremely cosmopolitan population casually made use of handheld, flat-faced comms that seemed to double as dataslates. Something called a 'smartcomm,' according to someone they'd asked about the devices. Apparently a Tythe-exclusive technology that they couldn't yet manufacture in large enough numbers to sell on the galactic market.

Everywhere you went, it was made clear that this station's technology was head-and-shoulders above even what you'd find on the massive orbital stations above Coruscant. And, moreover, that it had been built that way from the first weld up. All while still keeping a balance of beauty in mind. Each of the five arms, called Wards by the locals, had a different architectural style. All of them quite pleasing to the eye but in wildly different ways. Parks with exotic plants broke up promenades of shops, and art installations from hundreds of worlds were on ready display everywhere. Music filled streets at a low hum, some from speakers and some from live performers. Even the public transportation looked like it had every nut and bolt crafted with care, murals and inlays creating interesting looking designs in the surfaces of every monorail car and every flying taxi having body styling that fit the architecture of the ward it operated in.

They'd gleaned a lot from the station, all right. But what they'd gleaned was…confusing. Tythe was new. A nearly new world, with new construction, and next to no meaningful history beyond exploitation by the previous owners that had nearly destroyed it. It was also an industrial powerhouse that had helped produce an impossible fleet, and which was surrounded by some frankly kind of horrifying orbital defenses. Yet Tythe Central somehow gave the feeling of history despite its newness. Of a vibrant culture its people belonged to. An oddly eclectic culture, yes. But one that felt unified. Like it had an identity that it just shouldn't be able to summon up without a lot more time to do it in.

Dormé had been impressed as hell. Their social-political analyst able to pick out at least pieces of how it had been done. Pointing out the ways that someone had subtly created a culture, nearly out of whole-cloth, then co-opted the spirit of 'freedom' by stacking the whole place with bright-eyed ex-slaves who'd been given a second chance at life in a way that made them both optimistic…and slightly feral about the idea of making sure everyone else got the same chance. She'd called it the 'single greatest masterpiece of benevolent psy-ops' that she'd ever seen. Padmé was pretty sure she her handmaiden had developed a crush on whoever had pulled it off, without ever having met them.

Padmé's own reaction to the subtle methodology being pointed out had been a chill down her spine and an instant, total reevaluation of just how horrifyingly dangerous the League of Free Stars was. This wasn't, as she'd feared it was, a group of the displaced and disenfranchised coming together to make their own pain everyone else's problem. No, it was much worse than that. Or better, depending on how you looked at it. It was those same people being told that they were worth something too, and then made to believe it. Healthier in a way, as they weren't just lashing out blindly. More terrifying in every other conceivable way, since giving someone hope when they'd only known despair was the strongest possible way to create fanatical loyalty. Particularly when the hope was real.

She still really wanted to bitch-slap Izuku Midoriya for ambushing her and Naboo with all of this. Yet, at the same time, she couldn't help but be swept up in the raw appeal of the place. The aura of the station and its people was a heady thing, as full of hope and determination as it was not a little bloodthirst. And the fact she actually agreed with their viewpoints, bar only the violent means they were willing to employ to make those points stick, made her vulnerable to the appeal. Honestly, even the violence called out to her a little, given what and who it was aimed at.

It was really hard to sympathize or feel pity for Hutts, after all.

Snorting as that thought once more flowed through her now clearer mind, Padmé straightened a moment later as the door chime sounded and the author of her current frustrations and rise to power alike stepped through the door. Time to see just what she'd gotten herself into this time. Wait…what the fuck is his assistant wearing?!

... ...

Izuku did his best to hold in a groan as he saw Padmé's eyes locked on Asora and practically pop out of her skull in disbelief. Despite his weak attempt to argue with her, Asora had been fully engaged in her Mischief Mode today, as he privately referred to it as in the sanctity of his own mind. She, at least, hadn't gone with the utterly scandalous reverse bunnygirl suit she'd shown off as a new work-outfit option so recently. But she'd insisted on accompanying him to the meeting with Senator Amidala in her usual 'Professional Bunnygirl Secretary' outfit. A spruced-up version of the Lucky Rabbit uniform that covered only a little more, but was patterned with a business suit's details in mind. She'd even added holo-glasses to the look, claiming they were both useful and made her 'look smart.' Realizing he'd better speak in his own defense before the Senator jumped to conclusions, he sighed and greeted her.

"Hello, Senator. I apologize in advance for my assistant's sense of humor. She's insisted on using that as her uniform since the day I hired her, and my attempts to veto the idea have been derailed, repeatedly, by Aayla. I'm rather sure you recall how…incorrigible my partner in galactic chaos can be."

Incredulity shifted to understanding between one beat of a heart and the next, and Senator Amidala actually groaned.

"Please tell me she's not here, too? I don't think I can handle that much chaos right now."

Izuku had to resist snickering as one of the two handmaidens with the Senator looked at her mistress's reaction with appalled disbelief. Clearly, this was not going to script. Well, he supposed he had Asora to thank for that, so maybe she'd been right that wearing her usual uniform was the right call. Letting amusement tinge his voice to show he wasn't offended, he responded.

"Don't worry, Aayla's busy helping lead the forces in Hutt Space. We couldn't both be away from the Front. Even if she'd likely have loved the chance to tease you some more."

There was a curious mix of relief and disappointment on the Senator's face, before it shifted to a glare. He got the feeling through the Force that she was a bit chagrined that she'd been derailed and sucked into a different pace than she'd been aiming for. To her credit, she immediately just rolled with it in a way most politicians would have floundered trying to attempt.

"Yes, well, that means I can focus fully on expressing my personal displeasure with you instead of splitting my efforts. I trust you realize that you've caused me a month straight out of the Corellian Hells, do you not?"

The glare leveled at him was real, but it also lacked potency. Her emotions, which had started out curiously muted, were now present in full force and wildly mixed. Almost at war with each other, really. Oh dear. He really had poked all her buttons, hadn't he? He was getting the distinct impression that her inner pacifist was attempting, poorly, to wrestle the part of her that was gleefully cackling about the 'Evil Slug Monsters' getting what was coming to them into submission. From what he could tell, the idealistic portion of her was putting up a good fight, but losing to the inner pragmatist any politician was forced to become with time and bitter experience.

"Ah. But from what I hear, you've come out firmly on top as a result, haven't you? That is why you're here, after all. That you've managed to position yourself as the closest thing to an authority that the Senate could send to deal with the chaos I've unleashed?"

Padmé's glare lost even more potency as her lips twitched, her emotions clearing up into wry amusement above all else.

"Don't try to claim you planned for that. But…more or less, yes. As I'm sure you're already aware, the Senate is…chaotic, at the moment. There's a lot of people screaming for your head. A lot of people screaming for the Hutt's heads. And even more running around screaming the next best thing to doomsday prophecies. The fact that you're technically an outside power, fighting with another technically outside power, is only complicating the issue as the Senate realizes it doesn't have an easy way to order you to knock it off."

Izuku finally sat down, choosing to slide into a seat quite casually, directly across from Padmé, as he responded.

"Oh? And is that the general consensus of the Senate? My own information indicates that they are still wildly divided, with just as many voices screaming that the Republic should stay out of it…mainly to screw over the Hutts."

Padmé's expression shifted into something much closer to a politician's poker face. Yet, her eyes still gave her away, even as her emotions did arrange themselves into something closer to proper order. She wasn't truly back on balance yet, and her official agenda wasn't quite matching with what she wanted to say.

"There is…considerable confusion. In truth, there is far from being a majority opinion. But the single biggest organized block is deriding your invasion as 'dangerously destabilizing to the Outer Rim.'"

Izuku snorted, having a pretty good idea why her official agenda wasn't matching with her personal one as she said that.

"Let me guess. The biggest two blocks are made up of corporate conglomerates like the Trade Federation, and Core Worlds who are worried that their habit of sucking the Outer Rim dry of resources is at risk."

To her credit, Senator Amidala managed not to wince. Even as he could feel her unhappiness at that being pointed out.

"There is some truth to that. But there are quite a few worlds who simply value peace, as well."

Like Naboo, she didn't state. Mostly, he knew, because she couldn't. While Naboo was still personally pacifistic, that pacifism had eroded a great deal in the last decade. Enough so that even those who still clung to it were less vocal about others taking care of problems with a blaster, even if they still wanted to keep that sort of thing over there instead of on their own world. Still, Izuku wouldn't tweak her over that too much. He had plenty of less personally irritating ammunition.

"Ah, so I take it these peace valuing people are in support of us then. After all, the Hutts have been disrupting the peace for 25,000 years! They must be so relieved that someone is finally calling them to account, so that peace can be had."

That broke Padmé's expression for just a brief instant, before she got it back under control. It had been a nasty shock to her when the Queen of Alderaan, Breha Organa, had made that statement, almost word for word and in an official announcement. A lot of people forgot that, despite being one of the most famously peaceful planets in the galaxy, Alderaan did have a strong security force and a significant amount of military history. As well as a very, very long memory of times the Hutts had screwed everyone over.

Combined with the tight relationships formed with many of Izuku's own charitable organizations, which had garnered him considerable support from the general population of the planet, Alderaan had made their own stance on his actions clear. Not outright support, but official declaration that it was 'Not the Republic's business, save to help mitigate medical and other relief needs of our neighbors.' With the statement backed up by relief ships, four of them being the same Mon Calamari design that Izuku and Aayla had originally commissioned for their own use, the message to the rest of the galaxy had been clear.

Honestly, it had come as a surprise, but a pleasant one. Alderaan was a founding member of the Republic, and an extremely highly respected and politically powerful one. Their unexpected neutrality, which blatantly leaned in favor of the aggressors in this case, had caught the entire Senate flat-footed. The more blindly pacifistic member planets of the Republic had been left fumbling, as one of their largest supporters had simply said 'nope.' Such, Izuku mused, was just how badly disliked the Hutts had made themselves.

It also meant that pretty much the only coherent power blocks that had an issue with what Izuku was doing were just what he'd said. Abusive corporate conglomerates and Core World interests that very much didn't want to see a stronger Outer Rim. They had quite a lot of influence, but their reasons were sufficiently transparent that allying with them was a dubious and uncomfortable prospect for those who objected to the violence for more moral reasons. Politics made for strange bedfellows at times, and eventually those moralists might get over their issues with the other blocks to add their voices together. But it was the sort of thing that wouldn't happen quickly.

"There may be some who say such things, but there are just as many who are worried about the speed and unexpectedness of your actions. Not to mention the possible economic consequences of the Republic's largest neighbor being at war. Surely it would have been better to open negotiations, first…"

Padmé did her best to rally, even if it was clear she knew she was on unstable ground, at best. Smirking, Izuku leaned into the debate. Time to see just how far he could get Padmé to spin whatever she took back to the Senate in their favor...

... ...

Sabé watched as her best friend and nominal boss practically tossed herself into the sinfully comfortable embrace of the poofy chair in their quarters. Padmé had an interesting expression on her face, something hovering between frustration, admiration, and satisfaction. Sabé had to admit that she herself was equally amused and intrigued by how easily Izuku Midoriya had pulled the rug out from under Padmé's professional demeanor and drug her down into something closer to social banter and intellectual debate. It was an extremely effective tactic, given Padmé's basic personality. One that her own handmaidens used to great effect when their charge was being particularly stubborn. Get Padmé to actually debate with you, on an intellectually stimulating level, and she'd start making concessions to logic and reason instead of just digging in her heels.

The thing was, so far as Sabé knew, no one else had ever figured that out. Her handmaidens and a few close allies from her time as Queen had all possessed the advantage of sufficient exposure to Padmé. Enough to probe out, test, and settle on the best methods of getting the stubborn woman to actually consider other points of view. Izuku Midoriya shouldn't have a deep enough understanding of her to do the same, despite their previous meetings. Yet, Sabé had watched on with fascinated interest as he did exactly that from the moment he stepped into the conference room until the moment they'd departed. He'd seemed able to get a rise out of her friend even more easily than Sabé, and she knew full well that she was closer to Padmé than anyone else alive. Even her own parents had a little more distance between themselves and their daughter, due to some disagreements over political necessities between Padmé and her father.

"You know, you did get almost exactly what we wanted out of him, right?"

Padmé slumped, groaned, then shot her a betrayed look. It only made Sabé's lips quirk into an amused smirk, given that what she'd said was technically correct. They'd come to Tythe with three major points on their 'official' agenda. The first was to establish themselves as the contact point and go between for the League of Free Stars and the Republic Senate. Given that what was happening in Hutt Space was by far the biggest set of waves to disrupt the Republic in a thousand years, such a position would be a huge guarantee of influence for the power block they were building. That particular point of agenda was their own, along with the major point of their closest allies, such as Mina Bonteri.

Second, was to convince the League to allow observers. Allowing such was seen by the peace-first members of the Senate as the first step in reigning the 'warmongers' in. Allowing observers would make it more difficult for the League to commit war crimes of various stripes, which many of those voices were absolutely sure must be taking place. They felt certain their observers would report back abuses which would allow them to raise support among the populace of the Republic for putting a stop to the violence. This point of agenda was formulated by many Padmé had previously cultivated as allies. It was a concession that would allow them to keep the power block they'd been building, prior to Naboo being pinpointed as 'involved' with the faction attacking the Hutts that was, somewhat happy with them. The damage done by that 'involvement' was sufficient that they couldn't be kept as full allies, regrettably. But getting them the concession they wanted would leave them as a friendly set of voices willing to work with Padmé's newly forming and currently ascendent political block.

Third, was to establish guarantees for the continuation of commerce and communication between Hutt Space and the Republic. This touched most pointedly on the Hypercomm network. Hyperspace Relays, the massive transceiver stations that ensured interstellar communication was possible, were a huge chunk of the reason the Republic even existed. The stations were hideously expensive, far more so than any one world could hope to maintain more than a few of. So it was that funding the building and maintenance of that network was a critical function of the Republic. Despite not being part of the Republic, there were multiple relays within Hutt Space. Keeping the information flowing was near the top of the list of 'must haves' from the corporate interests.

The other subpoint for the third agenda, of course, was maintaining the free trade agreements between Hutt Space and the Republic. Those agreements were looser with the Hutts than within the Republic. Deliberately so. Many Hutts demanded minor bribes to use their systems, but the treaties largely kept the flow of business going between the admittedly wealthy Hutts and the Republic. The fact that a lot of things which were hard to get, if not outright illegal, within the Republic could be sourced from Hutt Space was of not inconsiderable interest for a lot of corporations. As was the fact that certain goods were much, much cheaper when sourced from slave labor and a race that weren't all that concerned about little details like not collapsing planetary ecologies. Combined, these two sub points represented the agenda point which belonged to the Trade Federation, Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Banking Clan, and so on.

All three of the points on their agenda had been accomplished.

The problem was that Master Midoriya and the League had cleverly twisted them in ways that no one had anticipated.

Izuku hadn't just made them the first and most important point of contact for the League. He'd officially labeled Padmé as 'Ambassador of the Republic.' Which, just incidentally, was an actual position within the League Hierarchy. As in, Padmé now had an observer's seat in the League's own Liberty Council. A seat from which she could officially address the League on behalf of the Republic Senate. It was a non-voting seat, of course. But much like the Jedi had an observer's seat in the Senate that could at least speak and be listened to, Padmé had been unilaterally granted something similar.

Unfortunately, the sneaky part of that was that it was an official position that required a certain amount of involvement and certain duties. A minimum number of sessions had to be attended every quarters, just as one example. Not to mention, of course, that there had been carefully worded oaths to treat the position with neutrality. None of the oaths contradicted her existing oaths to the Republic or Naboo. They merely required that she report to and from the Senate in an unbiased fashion, without altering the spirit intended or legal documentation of the contents relayed.

With a lot of politicians, the phrasing wouldn't have hemmed them in much at all. But for Padmé, it might as well have been tailor made to pin her down to the positions within the Senate that the League wished to take, at least regarding the League's own policies. She wouldn't violate such an oath once given, and much of the Senate would refuse to believe she didn't support whatever position she relayed that the League was taking. More accurately, most of them would believe it, privately. But publicly they would spin it freely, to their own electorate or rulers, that she 'clearly' supported such-and-such position. At least when it was most convenient for them. On balance, they had gained a certainty of influence within the Senate, but paid the price for that by having their options for what positions they could take or support limited by the very connection that assured the influence.

The same sort of clever twisting to the official agenda had happened with the other two points, as well. Master Midoriya had cheerfully allowed observers aboard his vessels. Warships and landing craft alike. So long, that is, that they reported on any crimes or atrocities both sides committed, complete with footage of proof. And that, of course, the League was allowed to vet the observers to prevent malicious actors from being on their ships.

Oh, and he just so happened to have a number of pre-vetted neutral agents already on hand. Abrion Major had supplied a number, as had Alderaan, Kashyyyk, Corellia, and Naboo. That last via the officially recognized Gungan representatives of the planet. All of those observers had already been officially given status by their home governments, and were only waiting for an agreement to be countersigned by the Republic. Meaning they would be the first ones in. With Alderaan and Corellia on the list, those wanting their own people placed in the observer positions would be hard pressed to force the issue. Naboo being included just added fuel for anyone claiming Naboo supported the positions it was relaying to the Republic. Which was now complicated by the fact that the Gungans actually did support those positions, and Padme's own work as Queen had brought the Gungan leadership into positions of official authority on Naboo.

Meanwhile, communication and free trade had been happily agreed too…after dusting off the agreements that claimed anyone passing into or out of 'Hutt Space' was subject to search for illegal contraband and seizure for such. If the Senate ratified it, which was a big question, it would essentially give the League full rights to seize and try for smuggling any slaver or spice running moving in or out of their space. The Hutts, for obvious reasons, had never cared. But it was part of the existing treaty. If the Republic didn't ratify it, there would be a lot of uncomfortable questions about why, as the treaty was quite harmless and open in the main.

Of course, just for good measure, the same treaty was the one that had created the original flexible border between what was and wasn't Hutt Space. Hutt Space had grown and shrunk over twenty-five millenia, and the Hutts had insisted on baking that fact into the trade arrangements with the Republic. Any world that 'shared a border' between Hutt Space and the Republic was actually free to declare if they were a Republic or Non-Republic world.

In the past, this had been a practical necessity, as the waxing and waning of influence along the soft boarder with the Hutt's had frequently caused it to be impractical for one side or the other to maintain links to each world. It was the only agreement of its kind, and one that only existed because the Hutts had always been there. It was considered normal for the worlds in the zone around Hutt Space to need the freedom of action to do so, and the agreement had been in place for far longer than the current iteration of the Republic had existed.

The entire thing was a masterful piece of work, Sabé could readily acknowledge. It technically gave them everything they'd come for, while at the same time laying a nasty set of mousetraps for the Republic based entirely on the Senate getting exactly what they'd asked for. The requirements were so blatantly reasonable as well, that the Senate would be hard pressed to explain to the public at large why they hadn't agreed to them. Yet, Padmé could obviously sense the massive headache that was going to ensue if they Senate did agree. Which they almost certainly would, given that the contents of the agreement were being forwarded to every world the League or Izuku did business with. There was just no way to keep it out of the media. Which would mean thousands of butchered political careers if the Senate didn't agree to the reasonable agenda that they themselves had asked for in the first place. Even as she sank deeper into the ultra-comfy chair, Sabé's boss looked like she wanted to go back in time and rethink her life choices.

"Sabé? If you don't shut up and get me a drink, I'm going to order the handmaidens new uniforms based on Izuku's assistant's. After all, I'm an ambassador now and should respect local customs."

Grinning, Sabé didn't blink as she replied with enthusiasm.

"You totally should! These robes are super boring, you know! And, since we have to be able to swap with you from time to time, it will mean you getting fitted for one, too! I bet negotiations would go way better if you wore yours to the next meeting with Master Midoriya. He couldn't completely keep his eyes off Asora whenever she made an excuse to bend over. Not that I can blame him, I couldn't either. That woman's got a fantastic ass. Besides, Master Midoriya has already seen us in less!"

Padmé, who had started blushing almost as soon as Sabé opened her mouth, let out a strangled cry with the last comment and dove for the couch. Laughing Sabé dodged the cushion thrown at her a moment later.

"Really, Mistress! It would be a great tactic! With a little makeup, we could give him a triplet fantasy to distract him with while we switch a few words in some agreements here and there!"

Laughing as Padmé stopped throwing cushions and simply dove into a tackle toward her, Sabé danced out of the way and grabbed her in a gentle throw. Planting her boss face down on the couch then sitting on her primly, she ignored the way Padmé wiggled as she prepared her next verbal salvo.

"Or maybe he'd like this view? If you're too embarrassed, I could pretend to be you. I bet I can keep a straight face sitting on top of you like this! And if you wiggle like that, he'll absolutely be distracted! Don't worry, I don't mind you giving me a reputation for liking that sort of thing~!"

Sabé yelped a moment later as Padmé finally found enough leverage to buck her off and the chase was on. She laughed as she danced around her friend, trading blows with couch cushions. Her poor friend was wound up way too tight. Hopefully, a pillow fight with couch cushion ammunition would help her blow off some steam…

... ... ... ... ...

A/N 1: If you recognized the series the Void and the Flame techniquePadméused comes from, give yourself a cookie! The Wheel of Time is my favorite series of books and has been since I was a teenager...which is long enough ago that I had to read something like a third of them as they came out.

A/N 2: If you recognized where the design for Tythe Central came from? Also give yourself a cookie! I pretty much completely stole the design of the Citadel from Mass Effect. I always thought it was sort of cool and very under explored. This version, of course, is not a mass relay to dark space.

A/N 3: Tech levels. I think I've explained before that I attribute some of the odd tech level inconsistencies in Star Wars (if we're looking for an in-universe explanation) to the fact that it's nearly impossible to create new tech AT SCALE for something as large as the Republic. As a result, cool new tech ideas might never escape their originating planet or, at best, their sector, as no one can manufacture enough of anything beyond the basics to spread it everywhere. Hence, Mei has introduced things like smartphones (smartcomms in this case), which are popular on Tythe. But they can't make anywhere near enough of them to spread them to the entire Republic.

A/N 4: Izuku isn't the one behind the benevolent psy-ops. Some of his minions are doing it without bothering to tell him. Though he'd approve if they explained it to him properly.

A/N 5: Alderaan's position. Many people mistake Alderaan as entirely pacifistic. They aren't, at least not at this time. They err on the side of peaceful negotiations, but they are very much capable of defending themselves and don't buy into the idea of peaceful neutrality at pretty much any point in their history.