Worlds Apart
"Séana! Séana! You better get out here right now if you want dinner tonight!"
Eighteen-year-old Séana Valderaai groaned in annoyance. "Coming, Mom!" she hollered back, hastily pinning up her waist-length jet-black curls and pulling an elegant velvet cloak over her skintight dance clothes before racing hurriedly down the winding staircase that separated her third-floor bedroom from the first-floor dining room.
"What were you doing up there?" her mother asked as the flushed teenager pulled out her chair, scraping it along the freshly-polished floorboards in the process and earning one of the piercing, furious looks her mother shot her so frequently lately.
"Practicing," Séana replied, hoping to avoid confrontation.
"Dancing again?" Her mom glared at her with stony grey eyes. "Don't you think you can find something more practical to study at the university?"
"Sure," Séana shot back, her tone sarcastic but her own eyes equally grey and equally intense. "I'll go into politics. I bet Dad can get me a job with Senator Organa."
Her mother's already-cold face froze even more. "I told you not to talk about your father," she hissed. "Just eat your dinner."
"I'm not hungry," Séana declared, dropping her fork onto her ornate, hand-crafted china plate with a clatter and shoving away her food. "At least not for the same stale Cylan bread we've had for the past month."
"Be grateful we can get anything through the blockade right now."
"You know, there wouldn't even be a blockade if we just agreed to negotiate with the Republic."
"Séana, sit down and hold your tongue. If your great-uncle heard you talking like that…"
"Oh, Force forbid that I upset dear Great-Uncle Dooku!" Séana banged her fist angrily on the long mahogany table before stomping away down the dark hall and climbing the staircase to her bedroom, where she passed the night alone, watching HoloNet.
Two evenings later, Séana was again watching HoloNet, but this time, her two best friends, Mayleen and Ariala, sat beside her on her plush bed, laughing as they ate their way through a bag of sugary Alderaanian candy.
"Where'd you get all this?" Ariala asked, her mouth half-full and dripping with the delicacy.
"Dad." Séana glanced at her two friends, who nodded conspiratorially and leaned closer. "Breha wanted me to have something for my birthday, according to him."
"Breha?" Although right after her parents divorced, Séana had filled the two in on her father's ties to the Republic, Mayleen sometimes forgot that the father of Lady Séana Valderaai, sole heir to the wealth and legacy of the legendary Separatist leader Count Dooku, loyally served the opposition as Senator Bail Organa's most trusted personal aide.
"Senator Organa's wife, remember?" Ariala filled in before grabbing more sweets.
"His wife? But isn't his wife the queen…Holy Sith, Séana! You're getting birthday presents from the queen of Alderaan!" Mayleen shook her chin-length blonde hair in amazement.
Séana frowned. "I'd rather have a one-way ticket out of here than a bag of candy, but it doesn't look like that'll be happening anytime soon."
"Your mom still won't let you leave? Even to dance on the Core worlds, or something?" Mayleen asked her friend.
"Are you kidding? She hates my dancing, you know that. She says it's unnatural."
"Well, it is," Ariala agreed. Séana shot her an evil glare. "I mean, unnatural in a good way. Everyone knows you're amazing, Séana. You move faster than anyone I've ever seen, and your balance is perfect, and you just…I don't know. You have a talent, that's for sure. I don't know where you get it from."
"Considering Mom's genes, I'm sure it's from Dad's side of the family," Séana remarked, her voice flat. "It's just not fair. Why did Mom have to get custody of me? And why in the name of every star system in the Republic does Vjun have to have this stupid law that you aren't a legal adult until twenty-one?"
"Tell me about it," Mayleen sympathized, and Ariala sighed her agreement. The three girls, and indeed, every teenager living on the planet, spent hours pondering that very question.
"You know, despite how Mom goes on and on about the privileges of being a Separatist world, I really don't think life could get much worse. All these repressive laws, the blockades, the sanctions, the draft…"
She trailed off and glanced nervously at Ariala, whose older brother, forced to enlist in the Separatist army, had recently been deployed to Yavin IV. For a long while, the three girls sat in silence, munching the forbidden sweets and thinking about the many changes that had taken place in their once-ordinary lives since the start of the war.
Finally, as the huge grandfather clock passed down for generations by the nobles of Séana's family struck the nine o'clock hour and resounded ominously throughout the enormous, mostly-empty mansion, Ariala broke the silence. "Turn your HoloNet on, Séana!" Séana quickly obliged as eager smiles bloomed on the faces of all three teens. All women across the galaxy, regardless of species, social status, and political views, looked forward to Friday nights, when at nine HoloNet featured "Fearless," the best war show since…well, probably since the Sith Wars, but no living being could remember that far back. While some people watched the program, which brought the exploits, triumphs, and trials of the Jedi Knights and their clone troopers out of the Outer Rim and into the homes of billions of citizens (and Separatists), for the sole purpose of keeping up on the war news, Séana, Ariala, Mayleen, and most other female sentient beings watched the show for a far different, though no less important reason – to gaze longingly at the gorgeous face of a certain young, daring Jedi hero. After all, Séana thought as she settled back to watch the show, despite the chaos erupting in the galaxy right now, some things never change.
A half-hour later, a loud banging on the door startled the three friends out of their HoloNet-fueled daydreams of romance and adventure on faraway planets. "Séana, what's going on in there? That noise could wake a dead bantha."
Séana grumbled and rolled her eyes. "We're just watching HoloNet, Mom."
Much to Séana's fury, her mother opened the door and entered the bedroom, glancing with hatred at the HoloNet program for an instant before switching it off.
"Sith, Mom! We've been studying hard all week. Can't we even take a break and relax?"
Séana's mother ignored the complaints of her daughter. "You were watching "Fearless" again, weren't you?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.
Séana did not reply, and mother and daughter glared at each other, both equally determined not to back down. Finally, Séana's mother spoke again.
"I told you not to watch it, and still, you insist on disobeying me. I'm sorry, Séana, but I'm going to have your HoloNet uninstalled."
"Mom, come on. You've got to be kidding. There's a war going on right now, my father's somewhere in the middle of it, and you're freaking out about a stupid HoloNet show? Aren't there more important things to worry about right now?"
"It's what you're watching on HoloNet that worries me, Séana."
"We don't sit here and hope that Separatist troops die, Lady Valderaai," Ariala interjected suddenly, coming to the aid of her friend. "My brother's out there somewhere, you know."
"Oh, so you watch it to see him?" Lady Valderaai replied, her tone implying disbelief.
"He's not on there, at least not so far," Ariala admitted.
"And who usually is?" the noblewoman queried, gazing not at Ariala but at her daughter, who sighed resignedly before responding.
"Mom, we've been over this before."
"Who are you watching?"
"The Hero with No Fear." Noticing her mother's blank expression, Séana glanced at her two friends and, seeing the grins on their faces and the star struck gleams in their eyes, could not help herself. In the space of a few seconds, she began giggling uncontrollably, and soon Ariala and Mayleen joined in.
"I'm assuming that's some nickname you three made up for that idiotic, overgrown child they call a soldier at the Jedi Temple."
"Cut it out, Mom. And don't call Anakin Skywalker an idiot."
"Kenobi does that enough already," Mayleen whispered softly enough that only the other two teenagers heard, sparking another round of hysterical laughter.
Furious and fed up with the entire situation, Lady Valderaai grabbed a jewelry box sitting on Séana's nightstand, walked over to the HoloNet, and smashed it in. The laughter abruptly broke off. "There. That solves that problem," the noblewoman mused, as if talking to herself.
Anger swelled in Séana's throat. The nerve of her mother, thinking she could control her like this. It was Séana's choice what she watched, just like it was her choice whether she wanted to support the Separatists or the Republic. "You have no right to do this, Mom," she declared.
"Oh, really? Last time I checked, you were not a legal adult." For a long time, no one spoke. "Séana, it's for your own good, you know," her mother continued eventually, this time in a softer tone. "How many times have I told you – those Jedi programs are just propaganda spouting the views of the so-called Republic. You can't keep watching them, Séana. It's against everything we believe in."
"Shut up, Mom."
"What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me. I'm sick of your preaching. I'm an eighteen-year-old girl, and personally, I could care less about politics and treaties. I'd rather have a happy home and a mother who loves me for who I am instead of trying to make me into a carbon-copy of herself. But that's never going to happen, is it? You know what, Mom? I wish I lived with Dad. And once I turn twenty-one, I'm going to find him, and leave you and your stupid Seppers forever. Because you know what else? It doesn't matter one bit to me whether Dooku, or Palpatine, or Anakin runs the galaxy. But I'd vote for Anakin just because he's hot." At that, Séana pushed past her mother and stormed out of the room, down the staircase, and out the front door, slamming it behind her as she went.
"I think it's time for you girls to go home," Séana's mother said quietly, turning to Ariala and Mayleen, who stood silently in the corner in disbelieving awe of their friend's courageous defiance. "And I wouldn't bother coming back, either."
Neither girl spoke as the two gathered their belongings and left the mansion without giving Lady Valderaai so much as a parting glance.
A week later, the friends sat on the dying grass in the center of Greater Vjun University, where all three attended school. Séana, who had been staying at Mayleen's house ever since the incident with her mother, looked tired and pale, and her eyes seemed permanently puffy from crying. But with the help of her friends, she was slowly getting over the fact that not only had she lost her father, but now, she was without a mother as well. Of course, she could always apologize, admit the "error of her ways," and ask her mother for forgiveness, but Séana was not about to give in. Especially when she knew her mother was wrong.
"How'd you do on that biology test?" Séana asked, peeling a piece of fruit and chewing it slowly.
The other two girls groaned. "I got a seventy," Ariala stated. "Pretty pathetic, huh?"
"At least you passed," Mayleen replied.
"I'm assuming that means you didn't?" Séana retorted, a chuckle in her voice. Mayleen's biology "skills" were notoriously low, and a constant joke amongst the three.
"Why do we have to memorize the anatomy of tauntauns, anyways? They're fat and ugly, and chances are, most of us will never even see one except maybe at the zoo. I'd much rather memorize the anatomy of Anakin Skywalker. That's one test I'd get an A on." All three girls burst out laughing as they nodded in agreement.
A tall, sloppily-dressed young man strode up to the group, and immediately their laughter turned into annoyed groans. "What do you want, Macen?" Séana asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Macen was one of the most obnoxiously self-centered, vain people she knew.
"I didn't know you were an actress, Séana," he responded, a strange grin on his face.
"What? I'm not, I'm a dance major, you know that."
"I meant on HoloNet. You were great last night, standing there and screaming while that bald lady – what's-her-name, Ventress – tortured you. But at least you got saved by your pretty little Poster Boy. That probably made your year."
By this point, all three girls were staring at Macen with open mouths.
"What in the name of the Sith are you talking about?" Séana was sure this was his idea of a really funny joke. "I've never been on HoloNet. And trust me, I sure would remember if I was standing anywhere near Asajj Ventress. Or Anakin. Most especially Anakin."
"Didn't you see "Fearless" last night?" Macen asked, confused. "I swear, you were on it."
"Well, none of us have HoloNet anymore…most people don't, you know," Séana answered. "Yours will probably be confiscated by Interplanetary Security soon if they find out you receive Republic programs. But anyways, I wasn't on "Fearless." What do you think I am, an undercover Jedi Knight who can somehow be in dance class and the Outer Rim at the same time? Sith, guys are stupid."
Séana abruptly stood up, and she, Mayleen, and Ariala walked away, shaking their heads. But before they could wonder what in the name of the Force that was all about, two girls approached them, whispering and gazing with admiration at Séana.
"Séana? Are you busy?" The smaller of the two girls shyly brushed her stringy auburn hair out of her eyes before sticking out her hand. "I'm Laana, and this is Kariosha. I, I mean, um…well, I was just wondering…could we have your autograph?" At this, she thrust a pad of paper and a pen at the utterly perplexed Séana.
"Uh…for what?"
"You're famous!" Laana leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper, looking around suspiciously before speaking again. "After last night's show, I can't believe everyone around here doesn't want your autograph."
"Well," Kariosha put in knowledgably, "not everyone gets Republic programming anymore. And most of those who do probably just didn't realize that Séana uses an alias when she's doing…you know…" Her voice trailed off.
"Doing what?" demanded Ariala. "Either tell us what you're talking about, or don't bother talking to us."
"Doing her job," Laana amended. "Her…you know…Jedi stuff." She murmured the last words so softly that Séana barely caught them.
"Where is everyone getting this idea from!" Mayleen shook her head in disbelief. "Séana's not a Jedi! Her mom is Count Dooku's niece, for Force's sake!"
"She was on HoloNet last night," Kariosha insisted stubbornly. "We saw it. And seeing is believing."
"Kariosha," Séana began, "I think everyone mixed me up with someone else. You said the girl had a different name, right?"
"Yes," Kariosha replied. "Skywalker called her Taylee. But that's just your undercover name. We're not dumb, you know. We re-watched the show this morning to make sure it was you."
Séana glanced at Ariala and Mayleen. "You recorded the show?"
Kariosha and Laana nodded.
"Can we watch it?" The two girls looked hesitant, but then Mayleen added, "You can watch it with us," and they promptly agreed, hurriedly leading the three friends off to an empty classroom.
Sure enough, an image of Séana desperately struggling against the cruel Separatist commander Asajj Ventress appeared on the flickering screen in front of the girls. At least, the image looked like Séana. But Séana – the real Séana – had never fought Ventress. In fact, she'd never fought anyone at all, ever in her life, unless dance competitions counted. And she definitely had never even seen a lightsaber before, much less used one. What in the Force did this mean?
About halfway through the program, as Séana watched with mixed horror and fascination as Ventress sadistically tortured the captured Séana-look-alike, two familiar blue blades cut through the air, driving the Separatist commander off. As Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, the galaxy-renowned Great Negotiator noted for his immense love of peace, led his clone troopers in an assault on the Separatist forces, Anakin Skywalker brushed back his long brownish-blonde hair and sprinted to the young woman lying on the ground. Gently, he cradled her head in his arms, supporting her so that she could gasp for air.
"Padawan," he said, as the woman twitched in obvious pain. "What's your name?"
For a long while, the injured learner did not answer, and for one, horrible moment, Séana thought that she – no, her look-alike, she reminded herself – had died…in the arms of the Chosen One. "I'm…Taylee…" the woman gasped at last, before closing her eyes.
"Taylee," Anakin repeated gently. "Taylee, stay with me. Talk to me. Breath. Come back to the Force." The woman opened her eyes, which shone a dull, glazed grey. "Taylee, what are you doing on Vjun? Where is your Master?"
Taylee slumped noticeably, and a tear ran down her dirty, blood-stained cheek. "Dead," she whispered, before passing out in Anakin's lap. The show cut back to Obi-Wan and his clones, and a few minutes later, concluded with the usual plea begging viewers to send their thoughts, prayers, and support to the brave soldiers fighting to defend democracy.
As the final music faded out, Mayleen, Ariala, and Séana looked at each other, all similarly bewildered. "Did you know Anakin and Obi-Wan were on Vjun?" Ariala asked finally.
"Were? That footage was shot yesterday," Mayleen replied. "For all we know, they're still here."
"Well, one thing's for sure," Séana declared. "That girl definitely wasn't me. Not only would I remember if Anakin Skywalker had been holding me, but I think I would have some scars or something if that awful Ventress woman had tortured me like that."
Laana and Kariosha frowned in disappointment. "But, but…" Laana murmured, clearly uncertain. "If that wasn't you, then who was it?"
"Precisely what we're going to find out," Mayleen declared, striding to the nearest computer console and switching the machine on. "What did that Jedi say her name was again?"
"Padawan," Séana corrected automatically. "She wasn't a Knight yet."
Ariala shook her head, smiling. "And you wonder why your mom thinks you support the Republic. You're practically an encyclopedia on it."
"Not the whole Republic," Séana insisted. "I just know a lot about the Jedi. Dad used to tell me stories…" She stared into space, remembering those pleasant nights long ago, when her father would tuck her in at night, bring her a glass of warm kista milk, and tell her tales of the Jedi Knights who bravely battled with both diplomacy and lightsabers, sacrificing their lives for the Galactic Republic and the ways of the Force.
"What was her name?" Mayleen asked again, shaking Séana from her memories.
"Taylee," Séana answered, and Mayleen typed the name into the computer and quickly ran a search, which brought up thousands of matches.
"Try Taylee/Jedi," Ariala suggested, and Mayleen obliged, her fingers flying.
She stared at the computer screen for a moment after it finished the search. "Holy Sith!" she breathed.
"What? What is it?" Séana, Ariala, Laana, and Kariosha crowded around the console, shoving each other in order to see.
"You don't have any cousins or anything, do you, Séana?" Mayleen asked, already knowing the answer. Séana was, after all, the sole heir to the fortunes of her great-uncle…providing he didn't throw her out or kill her first, of course.
"No," Séana replied. "Why?"
"Because the only Jedi named Taylee who shows up on the computer is the Padawan Taylee Valderaai, of Vjun."