A New Beginning: Prologue
Jessica Barber
ghitsa_dogder@hotmail.com
PG 13
Spoilers: Jedi Academy Series
Disclaimer: Not all of these characters are mine, Kyp, Luke,
Han, etc. all belong to Lucasfilm.ltd. I am gaining no money
from this and am breaking no copyright laws.
One year after the winning of Coruscant
from the Empire . . .
Belle, with her elegant hands clasped together in front of
her, smiled happily as her fourteen-year-old daughter floated
into the large ball room like a goddess with a fretting -- if
you could call it that -- CZ-6 droid behind her. The girl, her
hair pulled back and up into a small golden-brown bun,
smiled happily at her mother and at the decorations being
set up by the servants. All of the servants were humans, not
one was an alien. Aliens were not even allowed on the
premises.
The usually bright and happy ball room -- bright and happy
from the numerous meter high windows that replaced the
walls with sunlight streaming through them, and the golden
dancing floor reflecting the jeweled sunlight -- was made
even more cheerful and bright by the numerous and different
colored streamers and flowers hanging from the walls and
ceilings and set upon the white clothed tables that lined a far
wall. Being in the Upper Class of society was enjoyable.
No one could complain about lavishing in its luxuries.
When the teenager reached her mother, only slightly
shorter, her smile fell away. "Mother, Father says we
shouldn't celebrate things 'cause the Empire has fallen
away."
"It was destroyed three years ago, dear." Belle exclaimed
patiently, for her daughter knew not the reason for the
happy settings.
"Yes, but Coruscant was taken over not long ago!" The
young girls face became featureless.
"Smile. Cheer up, dear." Belle said, trying -- like she had
been during the past year -- to erase what the girl had been
taught. "Show some feeling in that beautiful face of yours!"
The girl smiled like a child, but too soon remembered she
was fourteen. Ignoring the beautiful room, she straightened
her posture and let the smile slip away. Belle decided that
she should soon give up; what the girl had been taught she
would never forget. Belle sighed and shook her head, such
a shame to ruin a young, innocent, widely talented girl like
that! It hurt to know that people felt that way about other
humans, especially Belle's daughter who had left home a
chubby cheeked little child and returned a thin-waisted,
pouty-lipped woman.
"Not as beautiful as yours, mother. You're an angel."
There was a short pause, and the girl looked around the
room with little care. "Tell me then, what is this for?"
"You!" Belle smiled, delighted to finally let her daughter
know of the beautiful future that awaited her.
"Me?" The girl arched an eyebrow, " My birthday was a
month ago, Mother. And even then Father wouldn't let us
celebrate. I fear he's still upset about Corus --"
"Enough on Coruscant. You should not let it bother you!"
Belle let her voice fall to a whisper, and she bent only
slightly to her daughter's ear. "Remember what I told you:
the Empire was bad all along and your father just fell into
the wrong crowd. Secretly rejoice the Republic's and Jedi
Knight's return."
The girl nodded her head and a few strands of hair fell
from her bun to encircle her narrow face. "I know, I do
rejoice. Even though Father hates me, I sorrow to see him
like he is."
"Your Father doesn't hate you, he just has too much on his
mind."
"Then why am I to have a party if not for my birthday?"
The girl asked, not bothering to argue about what her
mother had just said.
"Because tomorrow you will become heir to this estate and
all the wealth your father owns, for you are the eldest
child."
The girl's eyes widened at the thought. "But what of
_Dearest_?"
Dearest was what she called her brother, who was a year
younger than she. Though, he seemed to hate her more and
more as each month passed. The girl loved her brother and
ignored his hateful gestures day after day.
"You shall take care of him. I'm sure you will let him in
on some of the wealth."
"I shall let Dearest in on most, if not all, the wealth."
Belle smiled. "Don't forget to let yourself in on some of
it, honey."
The girl smirked, then let her features slacken. "I know,
Mother!"
"You should go change out of your dress now, honey,
your father and brother are taking you to Diel."
"Diel?"
"To buy you a new dress for this ball. Your ball. Almost
like a fairy tale, no? Not only will you become heir to all of
this, hopefully your father will be able to arrange a husband
for you." Belle's smile turned into a grin as her daughter's
face turned slowly into a frown.
"I want to chose who I marry. I have plenty of dresses. I
don't want to go anywhere with Father or Dearest. I don't
enjoy fairy tales anymore."
"Don't complain. You can never have enough of a good
thing! Go on and get ready, there is no reason you would
not want to go to a new setting to buy a new gown.
Anyway, Diel is a beautiful planet, you _must_ look at the
waterfalls!" Belle shooed her daughter off. The girl,
instead of skipping, dragged her feet along the floor,
heading towards her room.
Belle's grin faded at her daughter's attitude; she did not
understand why she was acting this way. Maybe she knew
something that Belle didn't, but what? The CZ-6 droid
stayed behind. She was the girl's personal Nanny droid.
Even though Belle's daughter was sixteen, when she had
been young she had been fond of the droid and ever since
her return home she hadn't wanted the droid to leave her
side for too long a time. The white droid nicknamed Cee
cee had a soft female voice that could be very tiresome at
some points in time, but at other times it was reassuring.
Cee cee's voice wasn't reassuring at this time, though.
"The girl is too active, my lady! I'm sure my circuits will
be fried before she reaches seventeen!"
"Don't worry, Cee cee. I'm sure for now she'll be calm
enough."
"Should I accompany her off world?"
Belle shook her head, "No, just make sure that while she is
absent, the cleaning droids are especially careful at not
breaking any of her things like last time."
"I'll make sure, my lady."
The CZ-6 droid clanked off.
Belle soon took her thoughts off her daughter's strange
behavior and the droid's worries of falling apart in the next
few years as another servant came up to her with her arms
full of roses, asking where she would like them.
Tomorrow was the big day. Belle had so much to ready
she did not have time to say goodbye to her daughter. It
did not matter, she would see her in less than twenty hours.
Diel was only four hours from home. It could not take them
too long to find a dress on a beautiful, tourist planet like
Diel.
"She has a special talent, Belle, like mine."
Belle smiled at her handsome husband. "I know, dear. I
have been teaching her the skills you told me to."
"Ah, and that you have, Love." The tall man kissed Belle
on her ivory-skinned cheek. "She is strong and valiant."
"So is our son." She said softly, and yet the words were
under toned with a strongness that meant the woman
believed what she said to be true.
"But she excels in it, unlike our son. This will be the root
of jealousy between the two, it shall grow," he warned
Belle.
"The two love each other dearly, there should be no root
of jealousy unless someone else plants the seed. Anyway,
dear, you are teaching him well . . . he shall grow up to be
chivalrous and strong also."
"He will . . . our daughter, though . . . may never have that
chance."
Belle narrowed her eyes questionably, "What did you just
say?"
The man's green eyes widened in surprise, he stuttered, "I
mean -- obviously she is already chivalrous, she will not
need any growing to become what -- what she already is."
"I'm not stupid, Cee Cee. Something bad is going to
happen there . . . I can sense it . . . somehow."
The CZ-6 droid swivelled her head to face the young girl.
"My Lady, you must be mistaken. No harm can come from
picking out a dress."
"Why not pick one out here? Father has something
planned . . . he hates me, too, so it must be something bad.
But Dearest would never let anything bad happen to me,"
The light brown haired girl took her gaze away from the
small blaster she had slipped into her empty boots and
looked up at the boxy droid, "right? Dearest does love me,
all that meanness that he's shown me doesn't really mean
anything, right?"
"I do not understand human nature, my Lady."
The young girl sighed and left her boots by the floor. "I'm
going to go find Dearest and see what he says . . . see what
he feels. I'm sure something is going to happen, and I know
Dearest will have a part in it, the only question is whose side
is he going to be on?"
* * *
Belle would not let the servants console her. She ran from
their grasp and into the ballroom that was still happily
decorated. What flowers she could reach she pulled apart,
petals by the handful, throwing them on the golden floor, lit
by the blue moonlight glowing through the window-walls.
What streamers her delicate hands could reach, she pulled
down and shredded. In the darkness the once bright orange,
red, and blue colors now seemed as though they were an
ominous black.
Finally, from lack of sleep the entire six nights and days
her daughter, husband, and son had been missing, and from
the many tears she had shed, Belle fell onto her knees into a
small pile of shredded paper and broken flower petals. The
broken flowers' wonderful smell surrounded the woman,
and she wished with all her heart that she could burn them.
The ball room the day of the will-making had been filled
with beautifully clad humans. No other beings; her husband
as an Imperial could not stand the others. The women and
men were dressed gaily and they talked happily as if there
were no care in the world. They weren't all Imperials, so
most of them had more reasons than this one to be happy.
The small, fledgling New Republic was gathering --
quickly -- planet after planet into its infant grasp. The
Imperials, after the taking over of Coruscant a year ago, had
scattered and fled, hopefully never returning. The galaxy
would soon be restored to peace and happiness as in the
days of the Old Republic.
After two hours of neither the man of the house nor his
eldest child showing up, the crowd began to dwindle, until
an hour and half later there was no one left but Belle and the
servants.
Belle had been worried since the beginning, but now she
was miserable. For all she knew they had been attacked by
Pirates and were dead. At this thought, tears that Belle
thought could not be there fell from her eyes and she
sobbed, covering her face in her hands, rocking her frail
body back and forth as if by doing so she could somehow
console herself.
Hard, booted feet echoed across the large room. Belle
slowly raised her tear-stained face. Two men, obviously
battered -- cut, bruised, and the shorter one limping --
stepped into the room.
He smiled as he watched his wife fly up and run to him and
his son. The younger man, thirteen-years-old, did a bad job
of holding back his happiness and glee of finally being rid of
his elder sister. The man wrapped his arms around his wife,
wincing in fake pain as she pressed up against him, and
whispered how much she loved him and had fretted and
worried about them. Finally, something struck his wife as
horrifyingly odd. Her daughter wasn't there to greet her in
tears of joy.
"Where is she? Dear, where is she?" Belle cried out, fresh
tears falling down her beautiful face. A face much like her
daughters . . . identical.
The father of the boy and girl quickly explained how
dangerous the wind currents of Diel had been. How he had
tried to land safely, but a storm had come up. How their
daughter and son had been in the back, and at the last
moment their son had run to the front of the ship. How one
last wind current knocked the ship over, and it had hit a
small building, tail first. How their daughter had bled to
death. How she had been dead and at peace when he had
finally reached her.
Belle backed away from her husband who seemed to have
almost enjoyed telling her all that had happened. No, she
was crazy. He could not feel a thing as happiness at their
daughter's death. She looked down to her son, and even
through the darkness of the room she could see the happy
smirk on his face. She had to be crazy, it was obvious that
they knew her to be, too.
She was dead, the girl that meant the universe to her --
meant more to her than her soul and life! --was dead. If her
daughter were dead, what made life worth living? What
ever affected her daughter affected Belle. What ever her
daughter did, they did it together! Her daughter's life was
her own. Her daughter's life was gone, as would soon be
her own. Belle could make their souls meet faster than life
wanted.
It was impossible, she would have known if her daughter
had died. Some spirit from the life after would have surely
flown and whispered to her in her ear that her daughter was
dead and with them. That sounded impossible, but her
daughter's death was even more impossible. It was
impossible, because as soon as her husband had died, or
sooner, she and her daughter would have sold everything
and run away to Coruscant to start life anew, to start a life
where they could serve the New Republic and live happily.
Finally, not knowing what to do, Belle pushed past her
husband and son, running past them, heading towards her
daughter's room.
He smiled as his wife ran past him, past the point of being
able to scream of shock, faint, or even cry. He hadn't killed
the brat -- oh, no. But the little brat might have killed him
and her brother if he hadn't been careful to slip her precious
blaster out of her boot before she had had the opportunity
to put it on the day they had left. As a joke he had put the
blaster back where she usually kept it, the top drawer of her
dresser.
Instead of killing her, he had left her to a worse fate; life
on some wretched planet, with a ship of course, but he had
warned her that if she even dared to show herself to him or
anyone in their family again, he would kill her. If he ever
saw her again, no matter where, he would kill her. And, if
one day he felt like it, he would find her and kill her just for
the fun of it. He would not let some girl take away his son's
rightful place. He deserved to be the eldest, and as a man
he deserved to have everything his father left when he died.
Belle entered her daughter's room slowly, oh surely the
fourteen-year-old was asleep, or maybe in her favorite
corner reading a book by candlelight. Yet, the room was
empty. Bleak. Belle slipped silently over the carpet, as if
she feared waking her wonderful, sweet, loving, precious
child.
She reached the girl's dresser. Nothing decorated the top,
nothing but a single, holographic picture. A picture of
Belle. Belle bit her bottom lip, bringing out blood. She
shook the tears away as she shook her head. With a white,
trembling hand -- her mother had always told her she had
beautiful hands and arms --she opened the top drawer.
Inside lay various articles of clothing, a journal -- most of
the pages were blank unless they stated their love for Belle
or Dear, and the love Belle showed her and the hate Dear
showed her. Stacked underneath her journal was a book of
the Old Republic that her daughter considered a prized
possession. The pages were worn to tearing in the large
fictional section all about the Jedi Knights who had probably
existed years ago, before the Empire destroyed them. But,
underneath all this was a small blaster. Small enough to
hide from everyone but Belle. Belle had given the blaster to
keep her daughter safe. She had told her to take it with her
no matter where she went. For once, the first time, she had
forgotten it. Not that it would have done her any good.
Belle wished with all her might that she could see her
daughter again. She whirled from the dresser, as she heard
running footsteps. Foolishly she had left the door open to
allow light to fall into the darkened room. So, now anyone
could tell that she were in here. They were her son's, she
could easily tell. He was yelling Mumma! Mumma! Belle
frowned in confusion, hadn't he been limping when he
entered the ball room? Hadn't he!? Belle decided against
wiping away the tears that slipped like an endless river
down her cheeks. It would take too long, and soon her son
would reach the room and stop her. Her daughter was
dead, her loving, beautiful daughter. Perfect in every way.
Belle whimpered and slipped the barrel of the small, black
blaster under her pointed chin.
_ No_ . . . she could not do it . . .
Her face looked so much like her daughters, shooting her
face would break apart her daughter's memory.
Belle took the blaster away from under her chin. She put
it against her chest. Her beating heart was easy to find since
it was beating so very, very hard. Belle sobbed, and out of
the corner of her eye saw her son, tall, dark, and handsome
even at thirteen, standing in the doorway. He was not
favoring his left leg as he had done. His limp had been fake.
Somehow, Belle figured as she pulled the trigger and heard
her son's heart-rendering shreak of no, that in some way her
husband had tricked her terribly into believing a lie . . .
(A/n* I know, I know, not too Star Warsish, but the story
makes better since with this prologue, though it is a little
odd. I swear, the first sentence in Part I is full-blown Star
Wars! Read on!)
Jessica Barber
ghitsa_dogder@hotmail.com
PG 13
Spoilers: Jedi Academy Series
Disclaimer: Not all of these characters are mine, Kyp, Luke,
Han, etc. all belong to Lucasfilm.ltd. I am gaining no money
from this and am breaking no copyright laws.
One year after the winning of Coruscant
from the Empire . . .
Belle, with her elegant hands clasped together in front of
her, smiled happily as her fourteen-year-old daughter floated
into the large ball room like a goddess with a fretting -- if
you could call it that -- CZ-6 droid behind her. The girl, her
hair pulled back and up into a small golden-brown bun,
smiled happily at her mother and at the decorations being
set up by the servants. All of the servants were humans, not
one was an alien. Aliens were not even allowed on the
premises.
The usually bright and happy ball room -- bright and happy
from the numerous meter high windows that replaced the
walls with sunlight streaming through them, and the golden
dancing floor reflecting the jeweled sunlight -- was made
even more cheerful and bright by the numerous and different
colored streamers and flowers hanging from the walls and
ceilings and set upon the white clothed tables that lined a far
wall. Being in the Upper Class of society was enjoyable.
No one could complain about lavishing in its luxuries.
When the teenager reached her mother, only slightly
shorter, her smile fell away. "Mother, Father says we
shouldn't celebrate things 'cause the Empire has fallen
away."
"It was destroyed three years ago, dear." Belle exclaimed
patiently, for her daughter knew not the reason for the
happy settings.
"Yes, but Coruscant was taken over not long ago!" The
young girls face became featureless.
"Smile. Cheer up, dear." Belle said, trying -- like she had
been during the past year -- to erase what the girl had been
taught. "Show some feeling in that beautiful face of yours!"
The girl smiled like a child, but too soon remembered she
was fourteen. Ignoring the beautiful room, she straightened
her posture and let the smile slip away. Belle decided that
she should soon give up; what the girl had been taught she
would never forget. Belle sighed and shook her head, such
a shame to ruin a young, innocent, widely talented girl like
that! It hurt to know that people felt that way about other
humans, especially Belle's daughter who had left home a
chubby cheeked little child and returned a thin-waisted,
pouty-lipped woman.
"Not as beautiful as yours, mother. You're an angel."
There was a short pause, and the girl looked around the
room with little care. "Tell me then, what is this for?"
"You!" Belle smiled, delighted to finally let her daughter
know of the beautiful future that awaited her.
"Me?" The girl arched an eyebrow, " My birthday was a
month ago, Mother. And even then Father wouldn't let us
celebrate. I fear he's still upset about Corus --"
"Enough on Coruscant. You should not let it bother you!"
Belle let her voice fall to a whisper, and she bent only
slightly to her daughter's ear. "Remember what I told you:
the Empire was bad all along and your father just fell into
the wrong crowd. Secretly rejoice the Republic's and Jedi
Knight's return."
The girl nodded her head and a few strands of hair fell
from her bun to encircle her narrow face. "I know, I do
rejoice. Even though Father hates me, I sorrow to see him
like he is."
"Your Father doesn't hate you, he just has too much on his
mind."
"Then why am I to have a party if not for my birthday?"
The girl asked, not bothering to argue about what her
mother had just said.
"Because tomorrow you will become heir to this estate and
all the wealth your father owns, for you are the eldest
child."
The girl's eyes widened at the thought. "But what of
_Dearest_?"
Dearest was what she called her brother, who was a year
younger than she. Though, he seemed to hate her more and
more as each month passed. The girl loved her brother and
ignored his hateful gestures day after day.
"You shall take care of him. I'm sure you will let him in
on some of the wealth."
"I shall let Dearest in on most, if not all, the wealth."
Belle smiled. "Don't forget to let yourself in on some of
it, honey."
The girl smirked, then let her features slacken. "I know,
Mother!"
"You should go change out of your dress now, honey,
your father and brother are taking you to Diel."
"Diel?"
"To buy you a new dress for this ball. Your ball. Almost
like a fairy tale, no? Not only will you become heir to all of
this, hopefully your father will be able to arrange a husband
for you." Belle's smile turned into a grin as her daughter's
face turned slowly into a frown.
"I want to chose who I marry. I have plenty of dresses. I
don't want to go anywhere with Father or Dearest. I don't
enjoy fairy tales anymore."
"Don't complain. You can never have enough of a good
thing! Go on and get ready, there is no reason you would
not want to go to a new setting to buy a new gown.
Anyway, Diel is a beautiful planet, you _must_ look at the
waterfalls!" Belle shooed her daughter off. The girl,
instead of skipping, dragged her feet along the floor,
heading towards her room.
Belle's grin faded at her daughter's attitude; she did not
understand why she was acting this way. Maybe she knew
something that Belle didn't, but what? The CZ-6 droid
stayed behind. She was the girl's personal Nanny droid.
Even though Belle's daughter was sixteen, when she had
been young she had been fond of the droid and ever since
her return home she hadn't wanted the droid to leave her
side for too long a time. The white droid nicknamed Cee
cee had a soft female voice that could be very tiresome at
some points in time, but at other times it was reassuring.
Cee cee's voice wasn't reassuring at this time, though.
"The girl is too active, my lady! I'm sure my circuits will
be fried before she reaches seventeen!"
"Don't worry, Cee cee. I'm sure for now she'll be calm
enough."
"Should I accompany her off world?"
Belle shook her head, "No, just make sure that while she is
absent, the cleaning droids are especially careful at not
breaking any of her things like last time."
"I'll make sure, my lady."
The CZ-6 droid clanked off.
Belle soon took her thoughts off her daughter's strange
behavior and the droid's worries of falling apart in the next
few years as another servant came up to her with her arms
full of roses, asking where she would like them.
Tomorrow was the big day. Belle had so much to ready
she did not have time to say goodbye to her daughter. It
did not matter, she would see her in less than twenty hours.
Diel was only four hours from home. It could not take them
too long to find a dress on a beautiful, tourist planet like
Diel.
"She has a special talent, Belle, like mine."
Belle smiled at her handsome husband. "I know, dear. I
have been teaching her the skills you told me to."
"Ah, and that you have, Love." The tall man kissed Belle
on her ivory-skinned cheek. "She is strong and valiant."
"So is our son." She said softly, and yet the words were
under toned with a strongness that meant the woman
believed what she said to be true.
"But she excels in it, unlike our son. This will be the root
of jealousy between the two, it shall grow," he warned
Belle.
"The two love each other dearly, there should be no root
of jealousy unless someone else plants the seed. Anyway,
dear, you are teaching him well . . . he shall grow up to be
chivalrous and strong also."
"He will . . . our daughter, though . . . may never have that
chance."
Belle narrowed her eyes questionably, "What did you just
say?"
The man's green eyes widened in surprise, he stuttered, "I
mean -- obviously she is already chivalrous, she will not
need any growing to become what -- what she already is."
"I'm not stupid, Cee Cee. Something bad is going to
happen there . . . I can sense it . . . somehow."
The CZ-6 droid swivelled her head to face the young girl.
"My Lady, you must be mistaken. No harm can come from
picking out a dress."
"Why not pick one out here? Father has something
planned . . . he hates me, too, so it must be something bad.
But Dearest would never let anything bad happen to me,"
The light brown haired girl took her gaze away from the
small blaster she had slipped into her empty boots and
looked up at the boxy droid, "right? Dearest does love me,
all that meanness that he's shown me doesn't really mean
anything, right?"
"I do not understand human nature, my Lady."
The young girl sighed and left her boots by the floor. "I'm
going to go find Dearest and see what he says . . . see what
he feels. I'm sure something is going to happen, and I know
Dearest will have a part in it, the only question is whose side
is he going to be on?"
* * *
Belle would not let the servants console her. She ran from
their grasp and into the ballroom that was still happily
decorated. What flowers she could reach she pulled apart,
petals by the handful, throwing them on the golden floor, lit
by the blue moonlight glowing through the window-walls.
What streamers her delicate hands could reach, she pulled
down and shredded. In the darkness the once bright orange,
red, and blue colors now seemed as though they were an
ominous black.
Finally, from lack of sleep the entire six nights and days
her daughter, husband, and son had been missing, and from
the many tears she had shed, Belle fell onto her knees into a
small pile of shredded paper and broken flower petals. The
broken flowers' wonderful smell surrounded the woman,
and she wished with all her heart that she could burn them.
The ball room the day of the will-making had been filled
with beautifully clad humans. No other beings; her husband
as an Imperial could not stand the others. The women and
men were dressed gaily and they talked happily as if there
were no care in the world. They weren't all Imperials, so
most of them had more reasons than this one to be happy.
The small, fledgling New Republic was gathering --
quickly -- planet after planet into its infant grasp. The
Imperials, after the taking over of Coruscant a year ago, had
scattered and fled, hopefully never returning. The galaxy
would soon be restored to peace and happiness as in the
days of the Old Republic.
After two hours of neither the man of the house nor his
eldest child showing up, the crowd began to dwindle, until
an hour and half later there was no one left but Belle and the
servants.
Belle had been worried since the beginning, but now she
was miserable. For all she knew they had been attacked by
Pirates and were dead. At this thought, tears that Belle
thought could not be there fell from her eyes and she
sobbed, covering her face in her hands, rocking her frail
body back and forth as if by doing so she could somehow
console herself.
Hard, booted feet echoed across the large room. Belle
slowly raised her tear-stained face. Two men, obviously
battered -- cut, bruised, and the shorter one limping --
stepped into the room.
He smiled as he watched his wife fly up and run to him and
his son. The younger man, thirteen-years-old, did a bad job
of holding back his happiness and glee of finally being rid of
his elder sister. The man wrapped his arms around his wife,
wincing in fake pain as she pressed up against him, and
whispered how much she loved him and had fretted and
worried about them. Finally, something struck his wife as
horrifyingly odd. Her daughter wasn't there to greet her in
tears of joy.
"Where is she? Dear, where is she?" Belle cried out, fresh
tears falling down her beautiful face. A face much like her
daughters . . . identical.
The father of the boy and girl quickly explained how
dangerous the wind currents of Diel had been. How he had
tried to land safely, but a storm had come up. How their
daughter and son had been in the back, and at the last
moment their son had run to the front of the ship. How one
last wind current knocked the ship over, and it had hit a
small building, tail first. How their daughter had bled to
death. How she had been dead and at peace when he had
finally reached her.
Belle backed away from her husband who seemed to have
almost enjoyed telling her all that had happened. No, she
was crazy. He could not feel a thing as happiness at their
daughter's death. She looked down to her son, and even
through the darkness of the room she could see the happy
smirk on his face. She had to be crazy, it was obvious that
they knew her to be, too.
She was dead, the girl that meant the universe to her --
meant more to her than her soul and life! --was dead. If her
daughter were dead, what made life worth living? What
ever affected her daughter affected Belle. What ever her
daughter did, they did it together! Her daughter's life was
her own. Her daughter's life was gone, as would soon be
her own. Belle could make their souls meet faster than life
wanted.
It was impossible, she would have known if her daughter
had died. Some spirit from the life after would have surely
flown and whispered to her in her ear that her daughter was
dead and with them. That sounded impossible, but her
daughter's death was even more impossible. It was
impossible, because as soon as her husband had died, or
sooner, she and her daughter would have sold everything
and run away to Coruscant to start life anew, to start a life
where they could serve the New Republic and live happily.
Finally, not knowing what to do, Belle pushed past her
husband and son, running past them, heading towards her
daughter's room.
He smiled as his wife ran past him, past the point of being
able to scream of shock, faint, or even cry. He hadn't killed
the brat -- oh, no. But the little brat might have killed him
and her brother if he hadn't been careful to slip her precious
blaster out of her boot before she had had the opportunity
to put it on the day they had left. As a joke he had put the
blaster back where she usually kept it, the top drawer of her
dresser.
Instead of killing her, he had left her to a worse fate; life
on some wretched planet, with a ship of course, but he had
warned her that if she even dared to show herself to him or
anyone in their family again, he would kill her. If he ever
saw her again, no matter where, he would kill her. And, if
one day he felt like it, he would find her and kill her just for
the fun of it. He would not let some girl take away his son's
rightful place. He deserved to be the eldest, and as a man
he deserved to have everything his father left when he died.
Belle entered her daughter's room slowly, oh surely the
fourteen-year-old was asleep, or maybe in her favorite
corner reading a book by candlelight. Yet, the room was
empty. Bleak. Belle slipped silently over the carpet, as if
she feared waking her wonderful, sweet, loving, precious
child.
She reached the girl's dresser. Nothing decorated the top,
nothing but a single, holographic picture. A picture of
Belle. Belle bit her bottom lip, bringing out blood. She
shook the tears away as she shook her head. With a white,
trembling hand -- her mother had always told her she had
beautiful hands and arms --she opened the top drawer.
Inside lay various articles of clothing, a journal -- most of
the pages were blank unless they stated their love for Belle
or Dear, and the love Belle showed her and the hate Dear
showed her. Stacked underneath her journal was a book of
the Old Republic that her daughter considered a prized
possession. The pages were worn to tearing in the large
fictional section all about the Jedi Knights who had probably
existed years ago, before the Empire destroyed them. But,
underneath all this was a small blaster. Small enough to
hide from everyone but Belle. Belle had given the blaster to
keep her daughter safe. She had told her to take it with her
no matter where she went. For once, the first time, she had
forgotten it. Not that it would have done her any good.
Belle wished with all her might that she could see her
daughter again. She whirled from the dresser, as she heard
running footsteps. Foolishly she had left the door open to
allow light to fall into the darkened room. So, now anyone
could tell that she were in here. They were her son's, she
could easily tell. He was yelling Mumma! Mumma! Belle
frowned in confusion, hadn't he been limping when he
entered the ball room? Hadn't he!? Belle decided against
wiping away the tears that slipped like an endless river
down her cheeks. It would take too long, and soon her son
would reach the room and stop her. Her daughter was
dead, her loving, beautiful daughter. Perfect in every way.
Belle whimpered and slipped the barrel of the small, black
blaster under her pointed chin.
_ No_ . . . she could not do it . . .
Her face looked so much like her daughters, shooting her
face would break apart her daughter's memory.
Belle took the blaster away from under her chin. She put
it against her chest. Her beating heart was easy to find since
it was beating so very, very hard. Belle sobbed, and out of
the corner of her eye saw her son, tall, dark, and handsome
even at thirteen, standing in the doorway. He was not
favoring his left leg as he had done. His limp had been fake.
Somehow, Belle figured as she pulled the trigger and heard
her son's heart-rendering shreak of no, that in some way her
husband had tricked her terribly into believing a lie . . .
(A/n* I know, I know, not too Star Warsish, but the story
makes better since with this prologue, though it is a little
odd. I swear, the first sentence in Part I is full-blown Star
Wars! Read on!)