Korkie liked ships. From huge freighters to the small Jedi starfighters, he adored ships. His aunt Satine always said that he got it from his father, who had died before he was born. She had said that he'd been an excellent pilot as well, and Korkie had decided that he was going to be just like him when he grew up.
Well, except for the fact that Aunt Satine said he wasn't allowed to, since he was going to be a Duke, and Dukes didn't have time to be pilots, and that's why they just hired someone for the job.
Being a Duke sounded boring, but he never said that to her. Instead, he'd just secretly decided to hire someone to be Duke, and he could be the pilot. A much better solution, in his mind.
He was pretty sure that he would be a good pilot. After all, when he'd flown the sim at the aerospace museum, he'd completed the easy course and had gotten most of the way through the normal flight. He'd only been five then, and the sim was made for full on grown ups! Korkie grinned as he flew his model Nubian cruiser through the air. Maybe Aunt Satine would let him fly a real ship for his birthday. After all, he would be six then, plenty old enough.
She hadn't told him what she was doing for his birthday this year, but he was sure it was going to be something cool. It always was. Last year, they'd gone to Kalevala for the day, and she'd even taken him to the Kalevala Spaceworks and let him help her design the plans for her new personal starliner, the Coronet. It was going to be a beauty when it was finished, and large too. A flying palace, as he liked to think of it as.
They'd just finished the plans and were now beginning to build, and Korkie was secretly hoping that she was going to take him to see it. But she would never tell him what she was planning, and, though tempted, he would never force her.
After all, she was the smartest person in the galaxy, and always knew best.
Well, except for about him being a pilot.
But he loved her, more than anyone, and she always got very sad when he forced her.
Korkie didn't like it when she got sad. She didn't do it as much anymore, but when he'd been little, she'd been sad a lot. She was hardly ever sad now, or at least not when she thought he was watching. Usually he was.
"Brrrrrr, brrrrrrrrr, brr, brrr…" the engine of his cruiser hummed, and under his breath he added in a few pews. After all, she was a pacifist, and that meant she didn't like blaster bolts or laser cannons.
At least, not when she could hear them.
He rounded the sofa where she was sitting, relaxing after a long day of important stuff. The news was on and a reporter was saying something about Naboo and Trade Federation occupation, but it didn't seem like she was watching it. Her eyes, a pretty blue only a few shades lighter than his, were following him around the room fondly.
Korkie liked it when she was happy. It made him happy.
Using the couch cushion as a landing strip for his ship, he clambered up beside her and kissed her cheek. "I love you Aunt Satine."
She pretended to frown and put her hands on her hips, but he knew she wasn't angry. "You're not trying to get me to tell you what I'm doing for your birthday, are you?"
He giggled, bouncing up and down. "No. Can't a guy tell a pretty woman that he loves her?" He'd heard someone say it in a holodrama once, and the girl had seemed to like it.
And so did his aunt, for she laughed. "You're a charmer, just like your father. What am I going to do with you?"
"I dunno. I'm your boy, you have to keep me."
She smiled. "Yes, you are, and I'm not going to let anyone take you away from me."
"Not forever and ever?"
Aunt Satine leaned her forehead against his, nuzzling his nose playfully. "Not forever and ever. I love you too much to let you go."
Yes, he liked it when she was happy.
Picking up his cruiser once again, he slid off the couch and began zooming it through the air again. He was Korkie Kryze, Jedi Knight, flying in his sleek new starfighter and shooting down the bad guys. Pew pew pew, pew pew pew. Even if the Jedi were considered the bad guys, he thought they were kind of cool, especially since they had all the coolest ships and lightsabers. Of course, he never told that to Aunt Satine either, since she didn't seem to like the thought of Jedi any more than all things not pacifist.
Korkie paused as the realization hit him. Of course, she was a girl, and girls didn't like violence and gore. It wasn't because she didn't know everything after all. He grinned, taking off after the bad guys with a renewed vigor.
Die bad guys, die!
He was just about to execute a very difficult and highly sophisticated maneuver when his aunt gasped and sat up, turning up the volume of the news.
"...few hours ago, in this very hangar, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi defended Queen Amidala and her retinue from a Zabrak assassin. Currently unidentified, the assassin was apprehended and killed by the Jedi, but not before fatally wounding Master Jinn." The reporter shook her head, seemingly grieved by the event. "A real tragedy. And now, back to you, Cian."
Korkie dropped his cruiser as a wave of intense sorrow hit him. He'd always been able to read Aunt Satine's emotions better than anyone else's, but he'd never felt anything so strong from her.
"Absolutely devastating. Thank you, Slitna. Witnesses have said that the assassin carried a lightsaber-like weapon, and seemed highly skilled in fighting. One of Queen Amidala's pilots has also said that they were apprehended by an assassin of a similar description on Tatooine, though whether or not they are the same person is still to be seen. We have not been able to get in contact with either Padawan Kenobi or the Jedi Council at this time, though we will update you if anything develops there." A brief picture of a menacing looking Zabrak and two Jedi flashed on the screen before changing back to the newsroom, where the Rodian news anchor paused and shuffled some papers on his desk. "And now, meet the boy the Naboo is hailing as a hero. Anakin Skywalker, the ten year old pilot from Tatooine who single-handedly destroyed the Trade Federations entire army. More after the break. And later, we will delve into Queen Amidala's treaty with the Gungans that may have saved the Naboo. This is Cian Toro, with Galactic Republic Broadcasts, live from Coruscant."
The holoprojector went to commercials, but Korkie didn't even notice. His mind was stuck on the Zabrak and Jedi. The old man was dismissed easily, but it seemed as if there was something about the younger Jedi that seemed familiar. Kenobi. Where had he heard that name? Something told him that he'd heard the name from Aunt Satine, but that was unlikely, since she didn't like Jedi. Reminding himself to look the name up next time Aunt let him see her datapad, he moved on to the next thing that trouble him.
The Zabrak. There was something about him, that even through the holoprojector, he felt the dark chill that seemed to radiate from the creature, and he shivered. It felt as if something instinctually told him that there was something purely evil from the red and black beast.
Korkie gripped his starship tighter and imagined shooting the guy right where he stood. Die bad guy, die.
Satisfied with having done his part in saving the galaxy, he turned back to his aunt, who was staring at the holoprojector with horror-stricken eyes. She'd gone completely white, and her hands began to shake as soft sobs welled up in her throat.
No, no, no. She couldn't cry. Korkie hated it when she cried. Setting his starfighter down, he hugged her knee. "Why are you sad? Is it because they were violent?"
She picked him up, cradling him close to her. "No, love. The Jedi who died… Qui-Gon Jinn… I knew him. He was a good man, and I'm sorry that he died."
He frowned, wrinkling his brow. "But I thought you didn't like Jedi."
Something sad flickered in her eyes, and she hugged him tightly. "I don't dislike Jedi, it's just… I'd rather not deal with any more of them for a while."
"Any more? Who were the Jedi you dealed with? Was he Quagan Gee?"
He felt her sigh. "Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice were sent to help me retake Mandalore."
"Obi-Wan Kenobi?"
"Yes, Obi-Wan was his apprentice." He felt a brief flash of regret and bittersweet sorrow from her, but she quickly hid it. "They were both very good to me, and I am grateful for their assistance, but not all Jedi are the same."
Korkie didn't really understand what that meant, but he nodded anyway. "Yes, Aunt Satine. Are you feeling better now?" He squeezed her gently, trying to keep her from crying again.
She laughed softly, kissing him on the forehead. "Yes, thank you. Now it's almost time for you to go to bed. Go and tell Li that I said you could have some tea and biscuits."
Aunt Satine was bribing him and he knew it, but he would take it. She wanted to be alone to grieve. That was understandable, and he would also get biscuits and tea, which he was rarely allowed to have, and was therefore beneficial on both fronts.
Pressing one last kiss to her cheek and willing her to be happy, he climbed off her lap and headed towards the door. "Good night, Aunt Satine."
"Good night, Korkie. I love you."
"Love you too."
"I assume you heard."
"Yes." She longed to be there on Naboo with him, to comfort him in what she knew must have been great trial. "I heard about it on the news only an hour ago."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, seeming exhausted. "Of course. They have been trying to get me to make a statement, but I don't think I can. I'm not even sure if I can attend his funeral, and that's in less than an hour."
"So soon?" Even though there was no chance she could take the time off to attend, it still hurt to know that she wouldn't have been able to make it if she could. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. He was a great man, and I loved him as if he had been my own father. I know you did as well."
Obi-Wan looked uncomfortable at the statement, and something told her it wasn't just about the fact that padawans weren't supposed to be attached to their Masters.
"What's wrong?"
He inhaled deeply, looking more troubled than she had seen him before. "Qui-Gon was like a father to me, but… I can't believe the feeling was singular. He is… was… a caring person, and would do the same for anyone he was too meet. I am hardly an exception."
She stared at the blue holographic image in shock. "How could you say something like that? He loved you, more than he may have shown, even. You can hardly believe that he didn't care for you as much as you did him…"
"He wanted to give me up." Obi-Wan looked sick at the words, and she could tell it was a painful subject. "We had to stop on Tatooine to repair the hyperdrive of Pad… Queen Amidala's ship, and there was a boy there, at the shop. Extremely talented, stronger in the Force than I could ever dream of, that any Jedi could, but a slave. He gambled everything we had for him, on whether or not the boy could win a podrace."
"A podrace?" She ignored the stutter over the Queen's name, choosing to focus on something more pleasant. "But surely, anyone who was old enough to podrace, they would be too old to train?"
"He is only ten, but even then he is too old. Already, he has shown himself easily susceptible to attachment, and the council refused to allow Qui-Gon to train him."
"The Jedi Council? You took him to Coruscant?" She frowned, picking apart his words in her mind. "I thought you said Jedi are not allowed to have more than one padawan at a time?"
His eyes dropped. "They aren't."
A sinking feeling filled her as she remembered his earlier words. "Oh, Obi-Wan…" Qui-Gon had tried to give him up? For a boy he had found? "I'm sure he didn't mean it as an offense to you."
"When the council told him it would be impossible to let him train us both, he immediately asked them to allow me to face the trials, even though he had insisted I wasn't near ready." There was more than a strain of bitterness in his voice, but it was liberally mixed with just as much sadness.
"What will happen to him now?"
Obi-Wan went silent, and for a moment Satine thought he hadn't heard her. But slowly, he raised his eyes to hers, and she could see the raging turmoil in them. "Before he…" he swallowed, blinking rapidly. "I barely got to him in time, and all he said was, 'promise me you'll train him'."
"Oh, Obi-Wan…" She wasn't sure what else to say. He was obviously affected so much by Qui-Gon's- if she were being honest- callousness, even if he tried to hide it. "I'm so sorry."
"I could have saved him, Satine." Even through the blue of the comm, she could see the tears slowly beginning to roll down his cheeks. "If I had been faster, I wouldn't have been caught, and I saw him, he was already tired, if I hadn't been so clumsy, I could have saved him."
She blinked back the tears, willing herself not to cry. "Obi, I'm sure you did all you could…"
"You don't understand. I was so angry at him, for choosing Anakin over me, that I let it cloud my judgement when I needed it most." He was shaking, and Satine wanted nothing more at that moment than to be there and comfort him. "And then, when that… that creature stabbed him, I nearly snapped. I was so close to the dark side, to giving myself in to all the anger and hatred I felt, that I could feel it all around me, as if I was in an abyss with no end. And I nearly died because of it."
"But you didn't." And how glad she was that it was so. "You didn't give in, and you were rewarded for your self-control."
He seemed dubious about her words, but didn't contradict them. "I killed him."
She flinched, hating how matter of fact he was about it. "Was it necessary?"
"He would have surely killed me otherwise, and Naboo may not have been free today." He sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaving it in absurd little spikes. "You remember what I told you? About the Sith Lords?"
Sith. Satine inhaled sharply. "Surely you don't think this assassin was one of them. I thought you said they were extinct."
"I thought they were. The Jedi thought they were, but we're not so sure now. He reeked of the dark side, as if he was made of it, and he was obviously well trained. He even carried a red lightsaber." Obi-Wan seemed troubled at the thought. "We can't be certain, but I have a feeling. The dark side has been growing, and his death affected it little. Even if he was not a Sith, darksiders trained as well as he pose a significant threat to the galaxy. He must have been trained by someone, and whoever they are will be looking for someone to replace him."
Almost immediately, her mind went to Korkie. Even though she had done her best to teach him how to shield his Force-sensitivity from the world, he didn't know why he was so incredibly gifted. It had been one of the choices she had made when she named him her nephew. But if there was someone out there, Sith or no, looking for talent to manipulate, there was not a chance that she would allow him to be made a pawn, no matter what it took.
"Satine? What is it?"
Everyone knew him as her nephew, the illegitimate son of her late brother, but few of them had ever seen Obi-Wan. But someone coming from the outside… even she knew that her story was weak, and it had only gone over so well because of all the turmoil surrounding the reconstruction of Sundari. No, she couldn't let them take him away from her.
"What's wrong? Is everything alright?" She looked up to see Obi-Wan watching her with concern.
"It's nothing, I was just thinking of all the poor individuals who they might take advantage of." Even though it wasn't completely a lie, she still hated saying it. "Obi, I have to go. But if you need someone to talk to, or someplace to get away for awhile, I'm always here for you."
He smiled, and she instinctively knew that he wouldn't be calling again. "I know."
Korkie was just finishing his breakfast when one of the maids came in.
"Master Korkie, Her Grace wishes to see you at your earliest convenience in her office."
He giggled, sliding off his high-backed chair. "Why do you always address me so formally, Kian?"
The elderly woman didn't smile, true to her nature. "You are the Duchess's nephew, and will one day be Duke of Mandalore, so you are my master. Would you rather I called you Your Lordship?"
Korkie made a face. He already got enough of that whenever he went out in public. "No, thank you. Did Aunt already have her breakfast?" He'd been surprised when she hadn't come to eat with him as she usually did, but thought she might have taken her meal early if she had a morning meeting.
"No, Master Korkie."
"Did she have an early meeting?" It had to have been a very early meeting, since Aunt Satine never skipped breakfast.
"No, Master Korkie."
The maid's short reply stopped him in his tracks. "Did something bad happen?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. He was getting a bad feeling about the whole situation, and he'd learned to trust his instincts.
Kian hesitated, then attempted a smile. "I'm sure everything is perfectly well."
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Kian never smiled, even when Salicar told his funniest jokes. Korkie took a step back, trying to read her for any emotions, drawing back sharply when he felt the sympathetic sadness in the old woman. "What's going on, Kian? Tell me what's wrong! Why didn't Aunt come to breakfast? Why does she want to see me in her office?"
"Master Korkie, I'm sure her Grace…"
"Tell me, Kian!" The terror was rising quickly, threatening to suffocate him. "Tell me what's wrong!"
The maid stood there helplessly, tears welling in the soft blue eyes. "I'm sure Her Grace only wants the best for you…"
He didn't hear the end of her sentence. Already he was running down the hall as fast as his legs could carry him. Something bad was happening, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was. Skidding to a stop outside of the ornate door of Aunt Satine's office, he slammed his hand on the access pad and ran straight in.
She was sitting at her desk, head in hands, and even without seeing her face, he instinctively knew that she had been crying. Her head jerked up at the sound of the door opening, and he barely caught a glimpse of her red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks before he was burying his face in her skirt.
Grief seemed to fill the room, and it only served to make him more upset. There was something wrong, so wrong, and he already knew there was no way he could stop it.
"Korkie, love," her voice stuttered and paused, a soft sob telling him that she was crying. "Please, listen to me. It isn't as bad as it may seem, and I'm sure you'll be much happier."
He didn't know what she was saying, but he did know that she was wrong. Gentle as always, she untangled his fists from her skirts and picked her up to sit on her lap. Cradling him close, she smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead, rocking him back and forth.
"I've come to a decision," her voice was steadier, but he recognized the political tone in it. She always used it when she had something bad to say. "You're turning six tomorrow, and you're really a big boy now. You're incredibly smart for your age, and I'm so proud of all the work you've done with Dai."
Dai was his tutor, who came to the palace to teach him since it was too dangerous for him to go to the Sundari Institute for Education. Maybe something had happened to Dai, and Aunt Satine couldn't find another tutor for him. Maybe he'd even have to go to the Institute for classes. That didn't sound too bad. There might be bullies, but Korkie was stronger than most other kids he'd met, even if he was vertically challenged.
"I'm sure you've heard me speak about the Royal Academy."
Of course he had. It had been a project dear to her heart, a place for those training to be in administrative positions. "I thought it wasn't finished yet."
Aunt Satine offered him a watery smile. "They just completed it a month ago. Registration has almost ended and classes will begin next week, but I'm sure you'll adjust in no time. I was going to wait a couple years to send you, but…" she sniffed. "I realized I would be holding you back, and I don't want to do that."
So he was going to the Royal Academy. He mulled the thought over in his head. The only thing he knew about it was they were supposed to be getting a large physical education program unlike any other school in the Mandalorian system, including a rock-climbing wall and obstacle course. That sounded cool. Anyway, it couldn't be worse than going to the Institute. Korkie nodded sagely. "I think that will be okay." he frowned as a thought occured to him. "You won't be lonely while I'm at class all day?"
Tears filled her eyes, and she hugged him closer. "Oh, Korkie, my love. You know I love you, no matter what."
Paralyzing fear began to fill him rapidly, and he could sense that she was quickly regretting her word choice. Gripping her tightly, he tried his best to hide his trepidation. "You can tell me, Aunt Satine. I'm a big boy now, I can take it."
"Oh Korkie… I don't want you to go, but I can't… I love you too much to make you stay."
The realization of what she was saying hit him suddenly. "You're sending me away?" She didn't reply, but her fallen countenance confirmed the truth that he dreaded to hear. "But… I thought you said I was your boy. You said you I would be with you forever and ever."
Tears were running down her cheeks now, and he could feel her genuine distress even though she tried to supress it. "You won't be far. The Royal Academy is only across the city. I'll only be a speeder ride away."
Desparate panic was overwhelming him, and he had no idea what to do to stop it. Everything he had ever known was being destroyed, and he was rendered completely helpless. "Then why can't I stay with you? I can wake up really early if I have to, and I promise I'll never stay up past bedtime. I'll even go to bed early if I have to!" He pleaded. But she was already shaking her head, and he knew her answer even before it left her mouth.
"It's one of the requirements of the Academy. There are so many activities available that it would not be remotely possible for you to go back and forth every day. As it is, you would hardly be able to see me at all, what with going so early and coming back so late." She smiled, smoothing back his hair tearily. "I'll see you whenever I can, and you will finally be able to be with children your own age. It would have been so dangerous to go to the Institute, but you'll be safe at the Academy, and I know you'll love it there."
He wanted to contradict her, to tell her the unshakeable truth buried in his heart. He would never love it there. He never could love it anywhere if he must be separated from her. But she sounded so hopeful, tears still shining in her eyes, and he knew that she could not want it anymore than he did. He didn't understand why he must go, but he trusted her. After all, she knew everything.
Determined to be brave for her, and afraid he would cry otherwise, he swallowed. "I don't understand why, and I don't like leaving you, but I will do it if it will make you happy. And it is only across the city."
"Of course. I don't know if I could let you go if it was any farther." He could tell she was trying her best to be cheerful about the whole situation, even though she was on the verge of tears. "And you know I could never love you less, no matter where you are."
He wiped away the dampness at his eyes and sniffled. "I know, and neither will I."
She hugged him tightly, and he returned the embrace. "I love you so much, Korkie. I don't think I could ever love you more."
"Not even if I were your son?" the question came out before he could stop it, and he felt her freeze.
She relaxed slowly, but didn't release him. "You're more than a son to me, Korkie. You're my entire world, my daily reminder of your father, my love, my boy, and I love you so much."
The pure sincerity of her words radiated from her, something that was rare from someone who always seemed guarded, and he soaked it up like a sponge. "I love you too, Aunt Satine, more than anybody and everybody in the whole galaxy."
Aunt Satine smiled, pressing a kiss to his head before setting him on the floor and rising. "Come, we have a lot to prepare. I'll help you pack."
Korkie placed his hand in hers, putting the remaining feeling that something wasn't right down under nervousness of his new life. He was sure that after he'd been at the academy for a little while he would get used to the idea of not being at the palace. After all, she would only be across the city. It wasn't as if he'd never see her again.
And anyway, his birthday was the day after tomorrow. He would have the whole day to be with her then.
Korkie stared out over Sundari, watching as dusk faded into darkness and the lights of the city came to life. Even though he couldn't see it, he knew the palace would be lit by now as well. Even though he hadn't lived there in eight years, he'd never forgotten his time there.
It was strange, knowing that he'd been at the Academy for over half of his life. When he'd started out, he'd been one in a class of five, and now he was one in a class of a hundred.
He wouldn't lie, he didn't hate it at the academy. Most days he even enjoyed it. The classes were challenging, but not hard. And, as the school had grown, so had the amount of extracurricular activities to participate in. He was on the debate team, held records in climbing, track, acrobatics, swimming, and was considered by most the best pilot. He was fluent in six languages, could sign in both Basic and Mando'a, and was even first in his class of computer science. He was generally respected and liked by his classmates, his instructors were all helpful, if firm.
But no matter how much he liked his friends, teachers, and classes, it didn't replace what he'd had before.
Before he'd come to the Academy, he hadn't truly realized everything Aunt Satine was to him. She was more than an aunt, a kindly relative who had taken him in, his family. She'd been his protector, provider, conqueror, hero, inspiration, guide, teacher, nurturer, world. He'd loved her like the mother he had never had, cried on her shoulder when he was sad, slept by her side when he was scared, played at her feet when he was happy, comforted her when she wept, listened to her when she taught.
She'd been a young woman, weighed down too early with the task of repairing her system, and yet she'd always had time for him. No matter what, she'd always been there to kiss him goodnight, greet him in the mornings, play with him when he was lonely. She'd loved him as if he had been her own son, and he'd loved her back.
She had promised to never let him go.
Tears blurred his eyes, fading out the lights of the city until they were indistinguishable blobs. Eight years ago, he'd woken to find himself in a new place, surrounded by unfamiliar faces speaking of unfamiliar things. For the first time in his life, no one knew who he was, or that it was his birthday. He'd sat alone in his room, staring at his shiny new comm unit and waiting. Waiting for her to call, for her to tell him what their plans for the day was going to be.
Waiting.
A half hour before his bedtime, the call had finally come. In an instant, he'd forgiven her for being late, for not coming to get him, for not even sending him a present. He'd just been happy to see her.
But something had changed.
She'd been distracted and distant, only-half listening to his recount of the day. Her questions had been few and her reaction to his replies disinterested. She'd barely apologized for the lateness of the call, ending the call with an IOU to the space museum and a 'good night' to his desperate 'I love you'.
He'd hoped it would get better, that this was not the beginning of the end, that she was just having an off day.
How wrong he'd been.
His calls went unanswered, unreturned. Requests to visit the palace went unfulfilled. He'd seen her a dozen times in person since he'd started here, and half of those occasions had been at social functions.
The evening bell sounded, signalling the end of all activities and the beginning of their evening free time, but he decided to stay outside for a little bit longer, not yet willing to face his roommates. They were already headed back to the room, he knew, and had already planned to take him out for a night on the town to celebrate his birthday. But somehow, though he should have been used to it, he couldn't get over the fact that she hadn't even taken the time to comm him.
The Royal Academy may have only been across the city, but tonight, even more so than others, he felt as if he might as well have been on the other end of the galaxy.
Hope you guys enjoyed and aren't too sad after this. It made me cry so hard to write this, but it had to be done. Although this is canon compliant, this is also a prequel to one of my as of yet unpublished stories, Being Kenobi. My story This is Awkward is also a part of the same series, so check it out. As always, love all of you guys, and don't forget to tell me your thoughts!