POLARIS
Foreword: A Note For Your Convenience (by LS)
Hello, everyone, and thank you for clicking into Polaris.
As you see in the description, this story has two authors. The other is the incredible DuchessKenobi, the author of The Ashla Spectrum, The Ashla Awareness, and Some say I got Devil. Polaris is a spinoff from the Ashla Spectrum trilogy and fits into its continuity. It is the fruit of our combined effort and imaginations, and there's no way one of us alone could have pulled it off by ourselves. I am unimaginably grateful that we decided to do this together, and that our hard work is finally starting to pay off.
In order to understand the context around Polaris, it is necessary to know Melaana's story in The Ashla Awareness - namely, the circumstances surrounding her sister-in-law, Shara Rupingwood. If you read nothing else, start on Chapter 3 of The Ashla Awareness and read through Melaana's storyline. (Or even better, read through it and Soniee's. They're both incredible!
All chapters set in the generation before the Clone Wars are written by DuchessKenobi.
All chapters set during the Clone Wars are written by me.
And without further ado, we both present the story.
...
POLARIS
Thousands of years ago, when the Naddists still held the world and black magic crackled out of the royal palace, those who were tossed out of the walled city hid in the jungle with bated breath.
The jungle was still a savage place in those days. The dalgos and fambaas raged through the prairie stomping everything in their wake and feasting on the flesh of the poor exiles. The rupings swung down from the sky to steal their food. Those were the days of drexls, the winged beasts who flew from Dxun to wreak havoc on our people. When the exiles saw those demon beasts, they ducked to hide under whatever they could find so they wouldn't be plucked from the ground and eaten alive.
But this isn't some Core world where the exiles cowered forever. This is Onderon. The exiles hadn't been in the jungle long before they dusted themselves off, looked at the world they lived in now, and made up their minds that they would not give the Naddists the victory of sending them to their deaths. Slowly but surely they tamed the beasts; first keeping them away from their villages, later slaughtering some for meat, and finally one brave soul climbed on the back of a ruping and changed the world. His family name was Kira, and he was the first Beast Rider.
Many of the exiles bent the knee for House Kira and learned to tame the beasts from them. But some didn't have the touch. The beasts reared when they reached a hand out to them. They threw the would-be riders from their backs. The other families, the Beast Riders sworn to House Kira, gave those rejected pitying looks and in their minds relegated them to society's low places. In a different situation, they may have pledged themselves to House Kira and a life of mediocrity. But these men and women, especially the most vocal member of their group, Aloysius Blackwell, had pride pricklier than thorns. And eventually Aloysius convinced the others to follow him where man nor beast had gone before: the Northern Seas.
The Seas stand near Onderon's north pole, masses of barely-melted ice which feed the rivers that reach south to Iziz and the jungles. Blackwell and his followers reached them in the autumn and knew they had to complete their journey before the North's harsh winter set in. So they chopped down the trees, bent planks, and built themselves ships to set out for their own place.
Some, like the Flints, settled on the shoreline or along coves. Some, like the Harkons, settled atop rocky crags which howl on windy days. The Blackwells built their home on a stone island in the middle of the sea. Their castle, Blackhold, still stands, refusing to bow to the waves, invaders, or anyone who would dare threaten its members.
The Great Houses still stand to this day. Dendup sitting the throne in the Royal Palace. Bonteri in Iziz, with the new contender Rash reaching for the crown. Kira in the jungles, taming the wilderness on beastback. Blackwell in the north, conquering the deep.
…
The banner's ripped again. With a sigh, Dalla Blackwell brushes her stringy hair behind her ears and removes it from its mount, careful not to wrinkle it. Heraldry isn't something to disrespect, especially her own family's arms. She's honestly surprised she or someone else hadn't noticed the banner's sorry state before.
It doesn't matter now. She folds the banner in half to make it easier to carry and heads for her bedroom and her sewing kit. She threw that haphazardly on her bed a few hours ago when she put Maiden's Heel into harbor that morning, knowing she had to alter her leathers again. She'd thought she was done growing at seventeen, but that apparently isn't the case.
Thank goodness for seam allowance, she thinks and shifts her shoulders in the softening leathers. She hasn't had time to take them off yet, between finally arriving home after the last voyage and seeing the ripped banner. Well, the thing about seam allowance is that it doesn't let itself out unless Dalla grabs a pair of scissors. She makes it halfway back to her room before a pair of arms cinches around her waist and lifts her off her feet.
"Chirn bait!" a cheerful voice laughs and pretends to throw her into imagined water.
She had a feeling it was him and she laughs back. If there's one thing about living at the Hold, it's that privacy is a daydream. "Uncle Jamos, you're the worst."
"There are worse than me," Jamos teases and pretends to toss her again. "Kason, are you getting this?"
Dalla cranes her neck. "Kason, you'd better as haran not be filming."
Her twelve-year-old cousin gives Jamos the thumbs-up from behind his holorecorder. "All of it."
Dalla shrugs out of her uncle's grip and lands on both feet. "Ever thought of sleeping with one eye open, Kason?"
"What can you do to me that Double Trouble can't?" Kason asks, shoving a honey-colored lock out of his eyes. "Anyway, I'm leaving on a trip with some friends tonight. You can't touch me."
"It's like we can't keep both of you in the same house," Jamos' usual smile falters. His brother warned him that children grow up fast, but he didn't think it would happen this fast. It wasn't that long ago he could toss Dalla around effortlessly and Kason was still burbling in his crib. Dalla's got to admit too, that she still does a double take every time she sees her younger brothers or cousins managing on their own.
It still doesn't make their antics any less annoying.
An idea comes to her. "You're taking your boat? Then you need a banner." She carefully lobs the folded banner at him. "Lucky for you, I have one."
Kason catches it and inspects the blue fabric. "Hey, this one's -."
"I would have patched it up for you, but I have ledgers to balance. I mean, unless you want to do those too," she says over her shoulder and continues toward her room.
Uncle Jamos roars with laughter while Kason squawks "Dalla, did you just give me your chores?"
Yup. She's still adjusting her own leathers, but at least the banner's out of the way. "Happy mending, Kason!"
If he really doesn't want to do it he'll pass the task off to one of his brothers or to Thias and Cade. She couldn't care less as long as it isn't her.
She locks her bedroom door behind her just in case Kason gets the idea to chuck the banner in and settles down at her desk with the ledger in some clothes that actually fit. Maiden's Heel didn't have a bad run this time around. It's nothing like Uncle Jamos' or her father's hauls, what with Aunt Shara's incredible beastmastering, but their nets were full and the crew was in good spirits when they landed, ready to go back to their homes or hit the pubs harder than Dalla wished to unless Miranda was around.
There's a knock at her door.
"What is it?" She shouts.
"Dalla!" her youngest brother Cade yells through the door. "Father needs to see you in his office now. He says it's an emergency!"
Dalla drops her stylus. "He said what?"
"It's an emergency!" Cade repeats.
"What kind of emergency?" she prompts and swipes her datapad off her desk. "Is something on fire? Was there a storm? Is it the Bralykburns again?"
"He didn't tell me." Cade rattles the handle in an attempt to open her locked door. "He just said it was an emergency and to get you now."
Dalla disengages the lock. "Thanks Cade. I'll be there right away."
When Marlon Blackwell calls you to his office, you do not walk to get there. You do not run to get there. You go as fast as humanly possible to get there. Dalla only stops long enough to knock on the door before she enters. "Father, you wanted to see me?"
Her father gestures to one of the chairs across from his desk, looking older than his almost-forty years. "Have a seat, Dalla."
"Cade said there was an emergency."
"There is," Marlon folds his hands. "You understand what being the heir to Blackhold means, correct?"
She nods "When you - when you can't perform your duties anymore, then I become the Lady of the north and the head of House Blackwell."
"You remember our house words?"
"We are the deep," she parrots. She's known that and the reasoning behind it since she was able to talk. "We are the deep, and no one can own the ocean. So no one owns us. Why do you ask?"
"And you know I love you very much?"
That doesn't sound like her father at all. Dalla's internal alarms go off. "Father, where are you going with this?"
Marlon pushes a holodisk to the center of the desk with his fingertips like it's dripping with slime.
"I received a hologram from Iziz a few minutes ago. You need to see it," he says and presses a button to play back the message.
A man around her father's age materializes in the hologram's shadeless blue, from his beard to his clothing to the laurel crown around his head.
"This is His Highness King Sanjay of the House Rash, the rightful ruler of Onderon, contacting Lord Marlon of the House Blackwell."
Dalla blinks. "You got a message from the king?"
Marlon snorts. "One of the kings."
"Lord Marlon, I understand there has been animosity between the people of the North and of Iziz, and in such turbulent times the people of Onderon cannot afford to be divided."
"Father, does he want us to declare for the crown? Or be one of his bannermen?" She can see that bordering on emergency territory. House Blackwell likes to keep out of southern politics and most kings tend to assume the north stands with them unless the Blackwells say otherwise.
"No," Marlon glares at the hologram. "He wants something else. Watch."
The hologram keeps playing and Dalla turns her attention back to it.
"It is high time our families were united," Rash declares. "And to that end, I will wed your Dalla."
Dalla jerks back so hard she knocks her chair over and Marlon dashes around the desk to assist her.
"Are you alright?"
She nods and accepts her father's extended hand, staring at the hologram bug-eyed. How in the salt gods' names is this happening? It's only been a few days since her seventeenth birthday, and Sanjay Rash is only a year younger than her father!
"- the North," Rash continues. "I see only good arising from such a match. I'm sure Lady Dalla will be a lovely addition to House Rash."
"Father, please," Dalla begs. "Please don't make me do it. If you want a husband for me, then I'll find someone. Someone northern; we could make a new alliance or reward a bannerman or something. One of the Kretash boys, maybe? Lux Bonteri? The Bralykburns? I'll find someone, I swear it. Just anyone but him!"
Marlon's jaw hardens. "You think I considered it for an instant after what he did to your aunt?"
It takes a minute for that to sink in. "You didn't agree?"
"Sanjay Rash did awful things to your aunt when he got it in his head he wanted an heir. No matter what he says, I know he'd do those things to you. And I don't think he even knows what you look like."
She reads between the lines on that one and instinctively touches her crooked nose. It had been broken in an accident when she was thirteen and it, as well as some of her front teeth, healed crooked. Sanjay Rash must have tried to flatter her father.
"I love my children," Marlon growls. "I'm not about to sell them for a crown."
Dalla hugs her father and holds onto him like a barnacle, trying not to weep with joy. "Thank you. Thank you!"
"He did not take it well," Marlon pulls her back so he can look her in the eyes. "I'm not playing the rest of the recording because I might be tempted to smash my holoprojector, but there was a fair amount of shouting. He claims he's the king, and thus has the ultimate authority. He will try to force us into this arrangement."
Dalla imagines waking up next to Sanjay Rash in the royal palace. She imagines her husband chaining her to the south never to set foot on the sea again. She imagines holding the baby he would force her to have - the baby he could never give her if the rumors are true - in her arms. She imagines the hell he would put her through for that phantom baby.
"If he tries anything, I'm going to cut off his nose," She swears even though she feels her bravado slipping to an all-time low.
"It's my job to make sure he doesn't get within arms' reach," Marlon agrees. "But in case he does, that sounds like a good plan. Pull yourself together."
She does, though the fix is temporary at best.
"You are a lady of House Blackwell," Marlon reminds her. "No one owns us. You must remind them of it, or they'll think they can."
"I'll remind them," she swears and bows her head. "May I take the holodisk with me?"
"Don't see why not," Marlon shrugs. "Why do you want it?"
"I don't know," she says and it's the truth. When she thinks about that recording her emotions range from nausea to primal rage.
Her bravado cracks. The second she leaves the office, panic takes Dalla and she bolts off for her aunt and uncle's chambers.
...
The door to Shara and Jamos Blackwell's wing of the Hold blows open and in the first instant Shara goes to chastise her husband about locking it. Jamos doesn't always remember (you can't very well lock a sailing ship) but for Shara it's almost a religion.
But in the second it takes to turn her head, Shara realizes she heard the lock disengage. She looks over into the family room - all her children are accounted for except Kason, who's out on the open sea with his friends recording Brylk calves. He shouldn't be home for weeks. But in that case, who else has their door code ("Sophia") but their family, Marlon, and his children?
The door shuts and Dalla Blackwell rounds the corner into the kitchen, her eyes twin moons.
"Aunt Shara," Dalla chokes out. Her breathing is all gulps and puffs, like she's drowning or trying to blow out a trick life day candle.
"Dalla?" Shara shakes her hands out over the sink and turns around, the dishes forgotten. "Dalla, what's wrong? Is your father alright?"
Dalla nods and Shara catches a glimpse of a holodisk clutched in her hands. Jamos snatches it.
"Shara, will you try to calm her down?" he asks. "I'm going to see if we can get any answers from this."
Shara's a step ahead of him. She yanks out a chair at their table and plops Dalla into it before seating herself in the other.
"Breathe," she orders, wondering if she should put on tea or something. "Take a deep breath, and tell me what it is."
Shara gets a name out of her niece the same moment Jamos starts swearing a blue streak from the other room.
…
Oh. He got...older.
It's a ridiculous thought. Shara got older; of course Sanjay did too. But to see Sanjay Rash's older face twisted into a pompous grin and saying such things is another matter altogether.
"This is His Highness King Sanjay of the House Rash, the rightful ruler of Onderon, contacting Lord Marlon of the House Blackwell. Lord Marlon, I understand there has been animosity between the people of the North and of Iziz, and in such turbulent times, the people of Onderon cannot afford to be divided."
"Such poodoo," Jamos spits.
Sanjay's hologram continues. "It is high time our families were united. And to that end, I will wed your Dalla and make her a queen. Such a beautiful young lady should be seen, not hidden away in the -."
Dalla slams off the projector before her aunt and uncle can.
"Is he serious?" Jamos seethes. "He's old enough to be her frakking father!"
"He doesn't have an heir," Shara says hollowly "He's always wanted an heir. And she's a healthy, strong girl. Dalla, your father couldn't have consented to this!"
"He didn't," Dalla confirms. "Rash was a highborn snob when you left him, Aunt Shara, but now he's king of the entire planet. What if he tries something? What if he sends royal agents to bring me or Thias or Cade to Iziz? What if he sends the Separatists?" Shara questions whether or not to make Dalla breathe through a flimsi bag. "We can't hold off the Separatists!"
"You don't have to worry about him. Because I'm going to kill him." Jamos says after a string of hardly repeatable four-letter words and jumps to his feet, grabbing his sharpened fishing knife. "He made my wife's life a living hell for two years and now he wants my niece? Shara, tell the kids I went on a fishing trip. I wanted to gut him with a harpoon when I first heard about him and I'm going to do it now. Sanjay Rash is dead."
"Jamos!" Shara cries and scrambles to her feet to block him from reaching the door.
"Uncle Jamos, if you go you'll just give him a hostage. Then what are we going to do?" Dalla argues.
"What's your father doing about this?" Jamos spits. "We can't let him spit on our house's name like this! He thinks we would prostitute you for a crown?"
"I watched the rest of the holo. Father told him where he could stick that proposal. It's a kriffing understatement to tell you he didn't take it well," Dalla snorts. "Uncle Jamos, I think he's been trying to call you but you won't answer your comm."
Jamos fishes his comm out of his pocket, looks at it, and storms into the other room with Marlon no doubt already hanging on the other line.
"You're going to be fine," Shara swears. "I promise, Dalla, he won't touch you or the north. He's not going to win this one."
Dalla unsheathes a knife from her belt and holds up the blade. "I already told Father if it gets out of hand and Rash tries anything, I'm going to cut off his nose." Well, at least she's starting to sound like herself.
"No," Shara says. "If he touches you, I'm going to fight him."
Umpteen years ago, Lana Blackwell said those words for Shara while they were in Iziz for her divorce. When the Rashes crossed the line, Lana shouted after Sanjay and his mother "You won't come anywhere near her! If you do I will fight you here or in the north! I will fight you on the very steps of the palace with Dendup as the referee." Because she was a Blackwell. And they protect their family.
Shara's a Blackwell like Lana was, and she isn't one to leave a debt unpaid. She'll keep an eye on her ex-husband; if he so much dips a toe in the Northern Sea Shara will be there. And salt gods forbid he lays a finger on Steela Gerrera, because even though she hasn't seen the girl since she was a baby, she's of an age with Dalla. Shara will come out of the woodwork to protect Geb and Edda's little girl.
And Sanjay's already threatened her family. Like any other northern woman, Shara reminds herself she can always borrow Jamos' harpoon gun.