71Casivir Therin - Battlemaster of the Jedi Order / Hero of Tython
Room Number 777 - Equinox Apartments, Senate District, Galactic City, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 10:30/10:30 AM
Cas was reading the forwarded files on his datapad with updates on the ongoing war effort when Kira divulged something quite unanticipated by the current Battlemaster of the Order.
"You won't believe this but apparently somehow we received an invitation."
"An invitation?" The Battlemaster's eyebrows ruffled with curiosity as he set the device down onto his desk. "For what and from whom?"
"Thanksgiving and it's from Sam, which is very thoughtful of him."
Cas desired to curse as he suspiciously felt that the paratrooper was setting him up to sit directly across from the Meyer/Cameron family at the dinner table just for some entertainment. "'Thoughtful' wouldn't be the word I would use to describe this."
"Oh, that's right." Kira realized as she glanced back at the invitation precariously and noticed the fine print. "So...This might be awkward with Jake and his relatives hosting the feast but it would be impolite to refuse."
Private First Class Jacob Gregory "Jake" Meyer - Fireteam Alpha, Second Squad, First Platoon, C/Charlie Company, First Regiment, Second Raider Battalion "Carlson's Raiders", United States Marine Corps
Moonlight Crystal Lodge - Polar Region North, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 10:30/10:30 AM
"I still can't believe that you arranged a surprise skiing trip for Thanksgiving, Dad." Jake commented as he removed his M1951 Parka and hung it on the coat rack. "Been one hell of a blast so far."
"Apparently I was the only one who accepted the deal they were promoting." The father smirked. "Though I had to ask for favors in scrounging for the traditional meal and send it here."
"Still, I thought skiing in the Alps was only for rich folks and I never imagined doing it recreationally." The Marine shrugged. "Shame I had to slow down for you."
"At least the Corps sent you, Stephen, and Jack to the Mountain Warfare Training Center for versatility purposes." Paul grumbled. "The Army didn't think it was necessary to send me to the Northern Warfare Training Center."
"Every clime and place afterall." The Leatherneck grinned. "Now I'm tempted to try Biathlon one day."
The father rolled his eyes. "There's a chance that it could occur under live fire conditions if we're all sent to Hoth, Orto Plutonia, or some other ice planet but who knows exactly where we're being shipped off to next?"
Sergeant Samuel David "Sam" Westbrook - First Squad, Third Platoon, D/Delta Company, Second Battalion, 324th Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, United States Army
Coruscant Spaceport - Republic Plaza, Senate District, Galactic City, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 10:30/10:30 AM
'God help us.' Sam thought after he and his old man were pulled out of line by security due to the guards getting suspicious of a supposedly strange odor from the roasting pan. 'Security isn't this overbearing back home.'
"We're going have to hold you two until we can see you're not trying to sneak a bomb aboard a shuttle."
"A bomb? A bomb? It's fucking Lobstah!" Sam's father complained with exasperation in his New England drawl. "Look, we're going to be late to a holiday meal hosted by friends and I'm not sure if we can arrange for a new flight if we miss our scheduled departure."
"I'm sorry, sir, but you're going to be in custody until we can completely verify that you're not carrying any explosives on your persons." The other guard proclaimed authoritatively.
"Well, if your mother learns about this, she's going to try to convince me to go completely kosher once more." The father groaned. "At least she doesn't proselytize."
"I don't want to think about scoldings at the moment, Pop." Sam muttered. "We might be ending up in an alien prison for Christmas."
"Still, I have to respect her for being resolute despite what those unspeakable animals did at Buchenwald." The elder declared after snorting at the mention of the Republic's jail system. "Those damn guards, those inhuman Totenkopfverbände at that camp and Dachau justifiably deserved the bullets and bayonets but admittedly that was too good for those fucking savages."
Sam's eyes widened at the confession of his father taking part in reprisal killings against the SS Guards. "Dad?"
"Nevermind, son. Let's just get this over with and be on the road. We're already late as it is."
Private First Class Jacob Gregory "Jake" Meyer - Fireteam Alpha, Second Squad, First Platoon, C/Charlie Company, First Regiment, Second Raider Battalion "Carlson's Raiders", United States Marine Corps
Moonlight Crystal Lodge - Polar Region North, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 11:05/11:05 AM
"Happy Thanksgiving, Jake!"
"Didn't think that I would see you here, Scott!" Jake laughed as the United States Army artillery gunner. "Miracles don't occur until Christmas."
"Well, Christmas came early and it's snowy here." The First Sergeant retorted before Uncle Steve interrupted them.
"Scott?"
"Hey, Uncle Steve."
Stephen snorted instinctively at one of Jack's and Shannon's eight zany spawns as the brat threw him a shit-eating grin. "I'm going to regret asking this but since you just have to mention the magic words 'Christmas came early': When are your brothers supposed to arrive?"
"One Fifteen at the earliest and they somehow managed to get onto the same flight unlike myself. Why?"
"To be perfectly honest with you and no offense but I thought only my boy was coming, Scott." Steve divulged, adding further confusion over who was exactly coming to the gathering. "In fact, your father didn't mention that you and your siblings were arriving."
"Well, I think it's nice to have a family reunion for once even if it's not everyone due to the circumstances of course." Paul smiled lightheartedly despite knowing the eccentricities.
'A family reunion!? I thought it was just only Dad, Uncle Steve, Uncle Jack, Sam, and his old man were coming, not Cade or four of the eccentric Celts!'
Six Star General George Smith Patton, Junior - Head of the Unified Earth Coalition
Room 201, Fifty-Ninth Floor - Diplomat Hotel, Plains of Coruscant, Galactic City, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 11:05/11:05 AM
"Well, Happy Thanksgiving."
"Thanks, Pop." The Colonel in charge of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, George Smith Patton IV, smirked as he cut into his casserole.
"Thanksgiving is such a peculiar holiday." Erwin muttered from his seat. "Glorified gluttony."
"Now now Erwin, you didn't have to come you know." Old Blood and Guts grinned at the German. "This isn't a surrender ceremony after all."
"It wouldn't have been polite to refuse without justification." The Desert Fox upheld, though his nose was showing signs of irksomeness at the minor jab from a former foe. "Still, I bet Bernard does not have a legitimate excuse for his absence and he's doing it out of spite."
"Bernard will always remain an ass." Bandito growled. "An egotistical, self-worshipping, attention driven son-of-a-bitch." Patton finished his analysis on his old rival when the buzzer sounded. "Or he has finally acknowledged that I captured Messina fair and square."
"Not sure if it's them but I'll get it." Manfred offered as he stood up from his seat to answer.
"Apologies for the tardiness." David excused. "Took time to convince father to attend."
"I'm not surprised." Manfred nodded in understanding. "There's still bad blood between them."
"Let's just get this bloody meal over with and then leave." Bernard sighed as he removed his trademark black beret and placed it on the coat hanger. "I still can't believe I'm doing this."
"Truth be told there is an excellent reason why you needed to come here anyway." The head of the entire Coalition revealed. "But it can wait until dessert."
"Lovely, as we really need the sugar." The Spartan General grumbled further. "Hopefully this won't be long."
Private First Class Jacob Gregory "Jake" Meyer - Fireteam Alpha, Second Squad, First Platoon, C/Charlie Company, First Regiment, Second Raider Battalion "Carlson's Raiders", United States Marine Corps
Moonlight Crystal Lodge - Polar Region North, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 14:12/2:30 PM
"So, how's the Chieftain, Pat?"
"It has some ups and downs, Sean." Patrick replied while stabbing his fork into the baked sweet potato. "Number one, of course, being an English designed tank with a boiling pot meant for that damn worthless leaf water they're addicted to for God only knows why but it has an excellent main gun and the trashy engines were replaced with much better American designed ones at least though it still doesn't entirely compensate for the switch."
"Can't believe we traded our Patton's for them and it was all with Patton's approval." Scott groaned. "I might not be a tanker but I'm sure we could've retrofitted the M60s with a one hundred twenty millimeter, preferably of American make."
Jake watched as the four decided to discuss the necessity of another Boston Tea Party before turning to his only paternal cousin with deadpan humor. "Shame there hasn't been another Jacobite Uprising in the Highlands yet."
Cade snorted at his blood relative's assessment. "Well, then we wouldn't be able to have such lively discussions courtesy of them at the dinner table anymore."
"While I don't have a clue on who's the current claimant since the attempt with Bonnie Prince Charlie in 1745, it's a bit ironic that we all steadfastly believe in American Republicanism yet Jacobitism upheld the divine right ideology."
"Don't let them and Jack hear you." Cade advised. "They might think you're mocking your lineage and your mother would raise hell if she only hears their side of the story."
"They're busy cursing the King Georges and the accursed House of Windsor." Jake grinned. "Besides, it's not like you're excused from being connected to absolute monarchism in the bloodline with Friedrich der Große in mind."
"Wir sind beide Nachkommen aus Preußische Lutheraner, Jake. (We are both descendants of Prussian Lutherans, Jake.)" Cade reminded him, nudging his relative's shoulder. "Und wir wissen beide, dass deutsches Bier Guinness überlegen ist (And we both know that German beer is superior to Guinness)."
"Urgroßvater Gewissheit kennt sich sonntags mit Bier aus, Hausgebräu natürlich aufgrund aus Indiana's Blauem Gesetz. (Great Grandfather certainty knows his way around beer on Sundays, homebrew of course due to Indiana's blue law)." Jake chuckled as he imagined the family Patriarch taking a sip of homebrewed top-fermented dark-copper colored Altbier but the voice of Scott snapped the Marine out of the light-hearted joke.
"Why are you two speaking German?"
"Umm, we were discussing some interactions we had with the Bundeswehr and some of it is classified?"
"Rrrrighhhht." Timothy glared suspiciously. "Maybe Ash has a point about her indoctrination through sauerkraut theory."
"How many times do I have to say that Oktoberfest is more entertaining compared to Saint Patrick's Day?" Jake wondered, still annoyed that such a theory was even conceived by his relative. "I wasn't brainwashed since birth and it's just an opinion of mine."
"Okay, that's enough. It's Thanksgiving so those are past." Stephen interceded. "Paul should be back any minute now and speaking of the devil-"
"Sorry for the wait but the Westbrook's are here."
"Was held up by some obnoxious Republic security guards." Daniel, Sam's father, sighed as he sat his dish of steamed lobster on the table. "Something about never smelling and seeing lobstah before."
"Goddammit, now lobster affronts them? What did they think you were carrying in the roasting pan, Dan?" Jack asked curiously. "A bomb?"
"Believe it or not, that's exactly what they thought." The former resident of Salem, Massachusetts that was employed by Eli Lilly's Pharmaceuticals before the current conflict complained. "I'm not some Irish Republican Army gunman or Palestinian hijacker even if I was actually heading to a ski resort."
Jake shook his head at the poorly conceived joke from Mister Westbrook about ski masks. "Or the damn Weathermen." The former 5811 muttered as he remembered the hectic time due to the traitors. "Still haven't heard how exactly those Viet Cong guerrillas advising the brats studying at the thankfully shuttered Berkeley campus managed to sneak into the country under Uncle Sam's nose."
Paul rolled his eyes at the mention of the VC-backed traitors that made the state of California a battleground on and off for almost three months with their bombing campaign and brazen raids, even managing to strike at Ronald Reagan at one point on Christmas Day through a specially wrapped package implanted into the Governor's limousine as a crude sick sense of Christmastime spirit albeit unsuccessfully. "Wunderbar. I guess Sauerkraut and Haggis are next."
"They can confiscate Haggis over our dead bodies!" Sean affirmed. "The Republic may not be entirely fond of us at times but taking away our cuisine would backfire."
"Don't forget Johnny Horton, Elvis, Janet Greene, and The Amboy Dukes." Patrick added. "Much of the universe are surprisingly fans of Jazz-style tunes over Rock and Country music."
"Janet Greene is technically folk music, Tim, but she and Vera Vanderlaan are leagues ahead over Joan Baez musical talent-wise."
"Can't believe even Baez joined up with the Weathermen robbing banks and manufacturing bombs in the name of Marxism but I have never been a fan of the late turncoat's music anyways."
"Like any true Patriotic American rightfully should be."
"Well, we're getting off track, Scott." Sean interjected. "As much as I want to put Hanoi Jane's and Pinko Joan's portraits on a dartboard, they're still dead as a doornail while there are those here in the Republic who think we're a joke and utilize our music as evidence."
Jake groaned as the discussion switched from remembering Culloden to cursing Fonda and Baez to one over haughtiness from a small yet vocal minority of soldiers and citizens of the Republic ignorantly equating Earth with Ewoks and other societies seemingly not out of the Stone Age. 'Well, at least the soft apple cider should distract me.'
"They're still crazy?" Sam wondered in a whisper.
"What do you think?" Cade asked rhetorically. "Yeah, they're still kooky."
"Jesus. They might try to kidnap some poor Jedi and torment him by hinting at the dunk test followed by being tied to a stake to be incinerated."
"Not funny at all." Jake grumbled. "If they heard that, they'll think it's an excellent suggestion for April Fool's Day to pull on some poor Jedi and besides, we've moved on from those times. There's no need to unnecessarily mock the Space Wizards any further as we still got to cooperate with them."
"I know about the darkness of the past as I got roots in Salem, Massachusetts, remember?"
Jake sighed at the snark 'reminder' when he overheard Tim's analyst of the viewpoints.
"Again, it's probably down to a cultural difference due to the Jazz-like tunes." Timothy shrugged. "Now it doesn't excuse their behavior of course but unfortunately we're generally going to be seen as primitives for quite some time here by everyone overall. At least the brightside is that most folks just don't have an opinion if the Holonet News polling is accurate."
"Do we look like the Flintstones to you, Tim?" Scott scoffed just as an interruption occurred.
"Now who would be knocking at this hour, on Thanksgiving no less?" Stephen wondered. "My bet is not American."
"Australian maybe?" Jack chuckled. "Never understood why November is summertime in Australia. Guadalcanal on the other hand is just a tropical island and therefore completely understandable."
"I'll get it." Jake offered as he rose from his seat and walked to the door, answering it but the Leatherneck wasn't expecting them.
"Jake?"
"Didn't expect to see you, Cas, Kira."
"Well, we were invited." Casivir confessed, looking at Jake's gray and yellow striped sweater, khaki pants, and russet brogues disconcertingly as the Jedi hardly saw him attired in civilian wear even back on Earth.
"I didn't invite you." Jake deadpanned but the shout revealed how they exactly received an invitation to the holiday meal.
"Hey, it's the two guests!" Sam grinned in his sky blue polo shirt, waving at the arrivals. "Nice for you to stop by."
"Why did you invite them?" Paul wondered curiously, still surprised by the unexpected visitors.
"You said we could invite two people." Sam reminded his friend's father/commanding officer.
'That's right.'"Well, since we have them as guests, no talks or any mentions about this nonsensical Force that supposedly needs to be balanced from any of you, got it?" Paul advised with a chuckle. "We already prayed before the meal so let's remain calm, okay?"
"Yes, sir." Timothy acknowledged the 'rule of engagement' with a devious smirk. "But does that mean talking politics with the Space Magicians is authorized?"
Paul sighed as his brother-in-law glared at his son and proceeded to chastise him in front of the guests.
"You only brought it up because the unanticipated arrivals are the only ones here in the room who aren't Republicans, as in the GOP." Jack growled. "Now, apologize to the Jedi before I have you sit in the corner while the rest of us enjoy our dinner as a family."
"Yes, sir." Tim nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry. It was rude of me to suggest political discussions at the dinner table."
"It's alright, Timothy."
"Sean?" Cade asked to help ease the tension. "Can you please pass the sauerkraut?"
"Of course." The 0311 Marine Corps reservist nodded at the Indiana Army National Guardsman as he reached for the specified side dish. "Can you please pass the mashed potatoes and beef gravy, Cade?"
"Sure thing."
"Happy Thanksgiving, everyone." Paul declared as he carved more turkey with the knife.
Colonel George Smith Patton IV - Commanding Officer of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, 2nd Armored Division, United States Army
Room 201, Fifty-Ninth Floor - Diplomat Hotel, Plains of Coruscant, Galactic City, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 14:30/2:30 PM
"If this is important, then why are we hearing it, Dad?" The younger Patton wondered.
"As a precaution since undoubtedly just like the Empire might try something with you three in an attempt to pressure us, so could Saresh. Now while we're still attempting to unravel what that Hitlerette's intentions are exactly with our common planet and how deep the Imperial infiltration is, we need to prepare for any worst-case scenario from exploitation to annexation and janissaries to outright eradication."
Monty rolled his eyes at the utterance of 'eradication' but the Briton knew that it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibilities if the Republic just decides to just blow Earth to smithereens with some superweapon if subjugation doesn't work out.
"No matter what, the primary concern is still the Sith Empire but it's becoming evident that we cannot completely rely on the word of the Chancellor anymore. Still, what I revealed to you stays in this room and it's between us for now, understood?"
"So we're keeping up a charade?" Manfred humored.
"Exactly." The Old Man declared. "The rules in this galaxy are more complex and arguably unfamiliarly nonsensical compared to back home, almost as if the Laws of Physics are consistently broken such as sounds being emitted in space despite being a vacuum, but even with the outlandishness in mind, war, war never changes. As long as an individual soldier is willing to fight with the latest tool at his disposal, then by God, he will do so but as the adage goes: 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer'. I have noticed from past meetings that Saresh is manipulative and conniving which means she cannot be trusted at all."
"Ja, even I have been wary to even speak to her. That's how much she reminds me of das Fürher."
"What about Zhukov?" The Spartan General wondered. "Should we bring him into this?"
"What about him, Bernard?" Old Blood and Guts snorted. "During our poker game, I kept him partially in the loop by casually mentioning how the Hitlerette is manipulative but I still don't trust that Communist."
"You played poker with Zhukov recently?"
"I needed a break and it gave us something to do." Bandito justified. "I've played cards with worse people but anyway watch your backs. There's no telling what she's capable of."
"We're still watching our backs."
Marshal of the Soviet Union Georgy Konstantinovich Zhukov - Commander in Chief of Warsaw Pact and Communist Forces
Room 1242, Forty-First Floor - Diplomat Hotel, Plains of Coruscant, Galactic City, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 14:30/2:30 PM
"Patton is foolishly naive." The Marshal of Soviet Union declared while pacing near his desk. "Da, he's aware of Saresh manipulative behavior but there's no indication that he's suspicious of her motivations and that's truly unfortunate as I'm concerned about the suka's intentions with our glorious Motherland and her sons."
"So, what should we do, comrade? We can't overtly drag Saresh out of her office and force her to kneel before aiming a Makarov at the back of her cranium, not without vindication and public support for the execution that is."
"GRU will watch the Supreme Chancellor closely." Zhukov ordered. "And if our worst fears are realized, we can see if those in the underworld could be...persuaded to rise up against the Bourgeoisie of the upper levels, just to help even the odds for us."
"But that could spark World War Three back home, Marshal Zhukov! The nations not aligned with us and entirely against us wouldn't stand for Communist Supremacy even if it's the way forward!"
Georgy curled his lips to allow a sly smirk to form on his mug. "Perhaps, and you do raise a fair point, but if the result is NATO being outnumbered by billions of fellow comrades …?"
"Ah." The other subordinate realized. "We can spread the teachings of Marx across the stars and overwhelm our enemies through sheer might alone. The Space Fascists, NATO, even the Hutts will have no other recourse but to go extinct under the might of the red banner!"
Zhukov grabbed a fine Cuban cigar from the presentation box gifted to him by Fidel Castro personally in Beijing with Primer Khrushchev, Chairman Liu Shaoqi, and Kim Il-sung looking on. "Realpolitik at its finest. All we need to do is to bide our time and know for certain before we roll the dice and play this card as unwittingly Saresh would be causing her downfall. China is inevitably joining the Warsaw Pact officially soon enough and if this course is followed as predicted, it would be only a matter of time before Communism spreads even if Nikita and Liu believe in peaceful coexistence with the capitalists."
"But what if the prediction is wrong?" The first subordinate wondered. "What if Saresh is just a typical politician of a rotten capitalist system?"
"Then we'll just have to follow the Politburo's peaceful coexistence plan." The Marshal sighed. "Either way, I believe capitalism will be dust sometime in the near-future. It is inevitable for Communism to reign and the fools of the West just hate to admit it."
Leontyne Saresh- Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic
Supreme Chancellor's Office - Senate Building, Senate District, Galactic City, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 14:30/2:30 PM
"Well, it looks like we're going to be forced to upgrade our security systems procedures, again." Leontyne groaned as she personally assessed the damage inflicted to her office under heavy guard. "Thankfully I was at a conference on Tython when that Imperial Assassin struck."
"He even managed to get through the encryption and as much as I hate to admit it but we'll have to assume that everything on your computer is compromised."
"Did Patton propose a meeting recently? Something about a joint operation?"
"Err, yes, yes he did, Your Excellency." Evran confirmed. "It's supposed to help address concerns of combined operations and hopefully repair the strain relations with the SIS and the Jedi."
"We're going to have to clean this mess up and overhaul everything. Have the meeting set for next week and we'll have to play dumb with Uplift by hinting at it being an Imperial ruse, the Earthlings are ignorant savages that seriously need uplifting anyways."
Moonlight Crystal Lodge - Polar Region North, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 15:37/3:37 PM
"You sure you don't want any dessert?" Jake asked the two unanticipated guests politely despite their differences. "Pumpkin or Apple Pie is traditional. Also got Sugar Cream as well."
"No thanks. Cas and I are sure."
"Alright. Just figured to check while it's still available." The Hoosier muttered as he sliced himself a piece of the official Indiana state dessert. "So, is there anything new on your end?"
"Not much really. Just have been occupied with keeping up with reports, doing the occasional behind enemy lines raids here and there, Kira, the crew, and I even just finished finding a significant artifact of Jedi history for Master Gnost-Dural that's classified and I'm not at liberty to discuss."
Jake placed the pie server down and nodded as he took the first bite of his Sugar Cream pie. "I see. Running errands for the brass basically?"
"Something like that." The current Battlemaster of the Order shrugged before changing the subject. "It's funny how many coincidences there are between this galaxy and miraculously just one planet in another."
"Yeah, while it's more of a parliamentary system, your government is still bound by a written constitution. Then there's the fact we're speaking English and Latin letters exist as 'High Galactic Standard'." Jake chuckled. "It's not just only funny but insanely hilarious."
"Still is quite the adjustment but I'm getting used to it." The Hero of Tython admitted. "Nevertheless, arguably you've turned the galaxy upside down." Cas added. "The military academies are envious last I heard."
"Well, in that case, I'm still pretty sure that this Force is nonsensical and nonexistent."
'Here we go again.' Cas thought, not surprised that it was brought up. "Honestly Jake, at this point you can believe in whatever you want as there's no point in trying to change your mind. An old saying goes that everything is seen from a certain point of view and that old hermit or whoever exactly uttered it had a point. You're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view, Jake, and no matter what, everyone will hold different opinions and views."
"Fair enough, Cas." Meyer concurred. "As I still think it's just overcomplicating magic by making it even more outlandish with concepts such as dividing everything into four subcategories or the entire universe would somehow end all at once if the so-called bind is broken. Case in point is me walking, talking, and breathing just fine without this supposed 'Living Force', one whose interpretation wouldn't allow me to exist or the reputed meaning behind the 'Physical Force', which also doesn't cover the Milky Way. I can accept people literally shooting lightning out of their fingertips or hurling Republic soldiers through thin air but regardless of our differing views, everyone is entitled to their beliefs no matter what."
"It's long overdue I'll admit but it's just time to agree to disagree." Cas concurred. "Thanks for the feast by the way."
"Don't mention it." Jake shrugged. "Today is Thanksgiving after all."
Casivir Therin - Battlemaster of the Jedi Order/ Hero of Tython
Room Number 777 - Equinox Apartments, Senate District, Galactic City, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968 - 18:00/6:00 PM
"Remind me to never eat so much food ever again." Cas groaned. "Especially the turkey and stuffing."
"No promises." Kira smirked. "At least the brightside is we didn't consume the dessert as a precaution. We wouldn't want to have effects similar to consuming cheesecake now, would we?"
Cas chuckled at the reminder of possible addiction to a consumable sweet previously unknown to the galaxy. "Well, I would be more concerned about Jake's family. They're comical in a way."
"How so?" Kira wondered with bemusement. "They still are a close family despite the war."
"They're following the social conventions of conformity for one but the four Cameron siblings are indisputably eccentric rascals."
"You know, that is a fair analysis." Carsen nodded. "Scott, Sean, Timothy, and Patrick are exuberant, to say the least."
"Exuberant is just putting it lightly." Therin groaned. "And of course I don't want to think if the other four are just as whimsical as their brothers..."
Private First Class Jacob Gregory "Jake" Meyer - Fireteam Alpha, Second Squad, First Platoon, C/Charlie Company, First Regiment, Second Raider Battalion "Carlson's Raiders", United States Marine Corps
Moonlight Crystal Lodge - Polar Region North, Coruscant, Coruscant, Coruscant System, Core Wars, Republic Space, "The Galaxy"
11:28:15 ATC / Thursday, November 28th, 1968- 22:45/10:45 PM
"Woohoo!"
Jake's eyes snapped open in response to the enthusiastic shout of Sean and dreadfully gazed at the scene to discover the facts around the commotion but the farmboy instantly regretted laying sight on the scene. "Ah, hell no!"
Meyer watched as the quirky quad without a care for the world courtesy of the now scattered alcohol bottles took turns to punt golf balls with a club and send them recklessly at the priceless decor set on the furniture or hanging proudly on the wall, mostly statues of Republic war heroes.
"Hey, I bet that I could knock that statue of Cartho Nasha down." Timothy bet with a slurry tone.
"Ya sure you don't need a bowling ball to hit Carth O'Nessy, Tim?"
"Are we even playing bowling, Pat? I thought we're doing the fine Scottish tradition of golf."
"Fair point." Tim relented. "Thank God for our Scottish and Irish blood."
"What is that racket!?" Paul demanded as he stormed down the stairs, the slippers not softening the impact of his stomping feet in the slightest.
"We're playing indoor golf, Uncle Paul." Pat admitted while tipsy, his Guinness bottle clutched fondly in his hand. "It was snowing hard outside so we thought to adapt and overcome. Hopefully Aunt Becky doesn't mind the redecorating."
'Actually, if she was here, Mom would be beyond infuriated, Dumfkopt.' Jake groaned. 'And Aunt Shannon would be disappointed in you four as well come to think of it.'
"Well, you're about to play a new game called PT, you shitfaced goofballs and you better be grateful that we're not doing it outside in the snow." The Captain snapped. "Drop and give me one hundred, NOW!"
'Why can't my maternal cousins be normal?' Jake wondered for the umpteenth time since childhood as the four brothers cranked out halfhearted push-ups despite not even having their hangovers yet then an uncomfortable thought came to mind. 'I don't even want to know if Ash, Nikki, Natalie, and Amy would be capable of doing the same idiotic stunts as their brothers despite being slightly eccentric themselves.'
Joe Pyne - Host of The Joe Pyne Show
Los Angeles, Los Angeles County, California, United States of America, North America, Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy
12:03:15 ATC / Tuesday, December 3rd, 1968 - 19:30/7:30 PM
"Good evening. With me in the hotseat tonight is Tohil Rans, former Supreme Commander of the Republic Military."
"Glad to be on, Mister Pyne."
Pyne nodded as he tapped the excess of his cigarette into his ashtray. "Anyway, Mister Rans, since you have experienced the onslaught of the Sith Empire from the very beginning until Illum, what can you tell those tuning in tonight about why our forces were stemming the tide when the Republic was barely holding on?"
Rans thought for a moment before answering the shock jock's inquiry. "Well, we have been fighting this conflict for almost thirty years at this point and personally I believe we're just worn out but when Earth officially entered the war, you brought not just a willingness to fight for your homes but also a willingness to innovate."
"How so?"
"Don't get me wrong here but despite trying to create superweapons to give us an advantage, I think the Republic failed to look for other chinks in the armor and exploit it. The galaxy, I hate to admit it, has gone stagnant and complacent so you're looking from the outside for flaws and implementing it into your overall strategy."
"So that does pose another question." The television host announced. "Based on your assessment, would you still consider Earth to be a backwater full of primitives or what?"
Rans sighed as he realized that he fell into a trap. On one hand, the military actions vindicate this world as a probable superpower that even the Hutts were fearful of but on the other hand, there were still nation-states, reliance on fossil fuels, hardly any space travel, and traditional social mores. "I'm probably in the middle opinion-wise as there's a case to be made for both perspectives. While I believe that if someone wants to fight they should be able to, these are your forces after all and not the Republic's."
"I sense a 'but' here…"
"But, how can I best put this? There have been grumblings from organizations over some of your values yet it's your culture and no one should dictate what's right or wrong on you. And as for the grouching from a few of my former colleagues, I believe that the ones who are unappreciative or unwilling to embrace your input on military matters are just obstinate because the galaxy is just familiar with a certain way of doing things for centuries and believe it's preposterous to accept advice from, in their minds, a backwater even if it's good-natured or strategically sound."
"When you put it that way some of the things we heard about society from over there are, well, ludicrously radical in our eyes." Pyne revealed.
"Now coming from the other end it's none of our business to dictate how people should live over there in the other galaxy but hopefully it can be reciprocated unlike Krasul stirring the pot here, his gaffes notwithstanding."
Rans felt that he got ensnared into another trap from the acclaimed reactionary columnist and was forced to evade the snare once more. "I, unfortunately, can't speak for the current administration, the current High Command, or the Jedi Order but I'm sure that the Republic, in general, will respect each individual nation-states customs and mores."
"I and the viewers appreciate your time on the show, Mister Rans."
"Thanks for having me, Joe."
Yes, in case you're wondering, that REALLY is Patton's son (in fact his only son and Bandito also had two daughters) and as two quick sidenotes:
1) After finishing his tour in Vietnam, George Smith Patton IV went on to command the 2nd Armored Division ("Hell on Wheels") that his famous father had commanded just before the U.S. had entered World War II, making this the first time in U.S. Army history that a father and a son had both commanded the same division
And
2) George S. Patton IV became close friends with Manfred Rommel and David Montgomery, the sons of you guess it: Erwin Rommel and Bernard Montgomery respectively.
In fact, both Manfred Rommel and George S. Patton IV shared the SAME Birthday of December 24th.
Talk about a coincidence.
Thus it's feasible to portray a scene where the fathers and sons sat down at a dinner table together.
And I suppose you can classify Jake and the Meyer/Cameron family as Arbitrary Skeptics.
Speaking of which: I will confirm that this won't be the last appearance of the extended family and they'll pop up again. In fact, it might be sooner than you think yet you will all have to wait and see.
Also, yes, as mentioned the maternal cousins of Jake's are undeniably crazy alright but this is mild compared to other 'stunts' I have in mind for the characters.
And it seems like the Communist Bloc has something up their sleeves. The downtrodden masses in the undercity seem likely candidates for… Wait a minute...
…
3…2…1…
A potential Communist Revolution on a planetary and even intergalactic scale as a contingency, anyone?
*Cough awkwardly*
Oh, I almost forgot to mention that Joe Pyne (the literal Bill O'Reilly, Tucker Carlson, and Sean Hannity of his day) just made his debut in the story as well.
While it's not certain, Fanfiction probably will never be the same again once this story is completed. Just a feeling.
