PRINCE

By: Sapadu

Disclaimer: Yeah, that's right- a SEQUEL to my (not-so) beloved masterpiece Princess. That being said, don't read this without first having finished up it's prequel (And leaving some comments? Please?) This one covers the life and times of her son, Ken, the Jedi Prince. Unlike Princess, this is not an entirely original piece of work- more of a "Behind the scenes" thing. Furthermore, because the original books were written for... well, kids, I'm going to be taking liberties, pretending that the books were more... um... censored and edited versions of "What really happened." Someone once described them as being "Star Wars Lite"- no cursing, blood or gore, mild sci-fi intensity but not really action, and everything politically correct. And, of course, the fun onomatopoeias that kids could sound out.

Oh, yeah, this is a disclaimer... um, the original "Jedi Prince" series was written by Paul and Hollace Davids. Not me. And this is not being made for profit. Just fun. And maybe some practice because now, I have horrible grammar habits. Don't sue.

Also, if you didn't like the whole chapters beginning with definitions thing I did in Princess... don't worry, I won't be doing that with this one. I ran out of words.

Rating: R. The adults in this story have... temper issues. Including Skywalker. Especially Solo. So, there will be language (and LOTS of it) vulgarity, crude stuff, some sexual references, and violence, blood, and yummy, yummy gore.

Chapter 1: Can't Let it Go

"I was no angel and you were no sin, but somehow, I can't let it go."

The quiet of the rainforest morning on Yavin Four was broken by the noise of a lightsaber igniting and the sounds of a battle echoing from the inside of a nearby cave.

Mehgan Retaw held her lightsaber at the ready, eyes sharply trained on her opponent, whom was making absolutely no move to defend himself, nor attack, yet seemed to have outwitted her at every turn. It could hardly be called a fight, but Mehgan knew there was something wrong with this man. He wore a completely covering cloak of black, wide sleeves for his arms that covered his hands, a trail that covered his feet, and a high, wide collar that hid half his face. The rest was covered by the flat hat that only left a peek between his cloak and the brim, enough for him to see out of, and enough for Mehgan to see his eyes, which glowed red. Unlike the eyes of a Sith, however, his were pure crimson, instead of yellow, and two rings of pure black circled the pupil, cutting through the iris.

Mehgan, herself, was sporting long gashes in her arms and legs, one eye bruised, and a twisted ankle, but still stood her ground. She wasn't sure how she'd become injured, as the man had done nothing to touch her, or even move, but it was clear that he was doing SOMETHING.

"I will ask you once more- where did you take the child?" The man asked. There was no doubt who he meant- Mehgan had only cared for two children, and one had grown up, had a child of her own, and died. The only option was that child, whom she had entrusted to Mehgan. Why this man cared, however, was a different story. Mehgan panted for breath, before spitting out a phrase that her old padawan had taught her.

"Go to Hell."

The man did not say nor do anything in reaction, but Mehgan suddenly felt something painful shoot through her hand, right where her wrist connected the hand and arm together. It was as though someone had put a pole right through it as blood flowed freely but no other real damage was evident. With a snarl, Mehgan charged the man, bringing her lightsaber down, only to see that it went right through the man.

"Disappointing, Master Retaw. You should know better." The man scolded, but Mehgan was back on her feet, analyzing the situation. After a brief moment of consideration, Mehgan opened her eyes again and swiftly slashed open her leg.

Almost as though it had never been there, the cave faded away and Mehgan found herself facing the man in a thicket of the forest. She was uninjured, except for her leg, but the man under his cloak sighed a little, one hand unzipping his cloak from the inside, opening the collar as his hand lifted from the point to remove the hat.

"So, you saw through it. Interesting." He said. Mehgan stopped short, staring at the man in shock. His face was revealed to be marble white, thin, and hairless, with lines under his eyes, almost like scars. while his hair was black, black as ink and a venomous snake. His bangs hung framing his face, forehead only bare from hair because of the bandages that went around it, but seemed to serve no medical purpose. What hair was on the back of his head was cropped close to his scalp, leaving only the long, stringy bangs.

But he was impossible to not recognize.

"Dalhouise..." Mehgan breathed. The strange red eyes blinked, once, then twice. Before Mehgan had time to react, projectiles shot out of the trees, as though they had suddenly changed into cannons. Mehgan dodged, but the things- they weren't bullets from a blaster, but something more solid and movable- seemed to follow her, until they connected. While they didn't burn like blaster bolts, they didn't hit and cause damage either- it seemed as though they attached themselves to her body wherever they struck and sank into her skin, molding themselves into her. Mehgan got back to her feet, but Dalhouise had disappeared.

"Always so rash were you." Said a familiar voice that Mehgan could have sworn she'd never hear again, "Never thinking about consequences- always acted as though there would be no afterwards, you did." There, protruding out of Mehgan's arm, she could see Master Yoda's head and body slowly emerging, but still a part of her, still under her skin.

"It was always because you thought with your sentiment- you never thought things through calmly, never kept your distance... you were so busy getting attached to everyone you damn well pleased that you never thought about them." Mehgan felt her shoulder twist and warp before she turned her head enough to see Master Windu's head emerging from the cloth of her brown robe, "That's a disappointment, coming from you."

Another damn illusion. But how the hell was he doing it? It felt so real- her skin was actually stretching and her flesh moving to create these new appendages... so it couldn't JUST be an illusion- there had to be something else.

"You were too weak to save anyone. Even if you had them in your arms, you just let that person be taken from you. Even your own daughter, you couldn't stop her from being cooked in front of you before she even hatched." There was that same pushing, bulging sensation around her knee and Mehgan looked down in time to see a face pressing out of her knee- a nose and two eyes, with two beads on the bridge of the nose, like flesh colored pearls.

"D-Depa..." Mehgan stammered, but her own hand came up and put itself around her neck. Glancing toward it, a pair of gray eyes was emerging, the fingers becoming a tooth-lined mouth.

"It's always you who survives. Why are you so much better than any of us? Why should you get to live any longer than we did?" Kendalina's voice came snarling through the air in its entirety and wholly real anger and spite. A new voice was added, as something wormed its way out of the pouch between her breasts.

"Why were you not strong enough? You had always said you could do anything if it was for her- why could you not save her? Why could you not save anyone?" Instead of seeing a face, Mehgan saw a shag of white hair poke out and a single green eye stare up at her.

Mehgan shut her eyes as tightly as she could and the images still burned in her mind, refusing to fade as the voices grew louder, almost as though they were inside of her instead of pounding on her eardrums.

And then, it occurred to Mehgan. She took a deep breath and calmed, letting the Force flow through her, letting it fill her with itself, allowing her mind to leave her body for the briefest of moments. She looked down and could see herself and Dalhouise both standing perfectly still. She was completely rigid, while Dalhouise was still staring at her with those strange red eyes. More, though, she could see herself in her mind- the emergence of the Masters and friends long past had, indeed, been an illusion, but one that played on all of her senses, working inside her mind to the point that couldn't discern reality from imagined.

Mehgan calmed herself even further, pouring her concentration into the Force, and pushing back the illusion, out of her mind and forcing it back into Dalhouise. To be precise, she went too far, pushing into Dalhouise's mind and seeing into it for herself.

"The adults won't tell anybody this, but they don't like an outsider being so interfering with family matters."

"Now, Dalhouise, take good care of that little sister of yours- you two only have each other, so you have to love each other and protect each other. You're different from the other children in this house."

"You want your sister to live... don't you?"

"The Jedi escaped with her! The girl is now gone, and you let them get away! I should curse you to the ninth circle of Hell!"

"You were in love with Master Retaw."

"Prisoner, strip."

"Son, the importance of these eyes is that only the heir to the clan whom бог choses to inherit them will receive them. And the last heir бог deemed appropriate to bestow the eyes was five generations ago. Learn to use them, and use them well. They are our deadliest weapon."

Blood. Blood everywhere. Nothing but blood. No end, no beginning, no telling where it even came from. Just there.

Mehgan pulled back enough that she staggered a few steps backward, but it had been enough. Enough that she'd understood, and it had made her sick.

"What is it that you want, Dalhouise?" Mehgan asked, glaring at him. Dalhouise's gaze remained impassive as he stared back at her.

"I have no intention of causing anyone harm- My mission is to find the child and you are simply the only person who has any information on this matter." Dalhouise replied, curtly, "Keep in mind that I have no need to fight with anyone on this assignment, but I am not above using violence, as you just saw."

Mehgan scowled.

"You killed off your entire family and murdered your sister- do you REALLY think I'm just going to hand her son to you?" She snapped. Dalhouise's expression did not change, nor did the tone of his voice when he spoke again.

"The boy will not be harmed." He stated, simply. There was no annoyance, nor attempt at persuasion in his voice. He was simply putting forth a fact. That somehow made Mehgan even more fiercely determined to stand in his way.

"The hell he won't." She snapped, "Even if YOU don't do anything to harm him, somewhere down the line, it WILL happen." Dalhouise continued to stare at her with those red, ring-filled eyes, impassively, "I made a promise. I intend to keep it. Even if it costs me my life."

Dalhouise continued to watch her for a moment, before the hat went back on his head.

"Well, there is no deadline to this mission. We still have time." Dalhouise shrugged, carelessly, "I know at least which planet the boy is on. Sooner or later, I'll either find him myself, or you'll give me a clue." Dalhouise turned to walk away, still impassive and infuriatingly uncaring.

Mehgan watched him stalk away, almost disappointed- of all things that he was angry about, he felt jealous! Jealous that she cared for his sister more than himself, and in an attempt to change that, he'd destroyed his entire clan. And for what? Now, he was little better than the Sith who had betrayed and destroyed the Order, at least as far as Mehgan could see. He couldn't possibly think that this was impressing her.

"What exactly is it you expect to gain, Dalhouise Zuka?" He stopped at the mention of his name. Mehgan stood straight and tall, glaring at his back as though she could pierce him with her gaze, "What is it that you want out of this? Do you think that this is the solution, or do you have some other motive?" Well, there was a stupid question, if Mehgan had ever asked one. There was always a different motive- money, power, influence, security, secrets, secrecy, something along those lines. What else could Dalhouise be after?

He paused. For a moment, Mehgan wondered- suppose he was being watched. This might just be an act the way that those two people had pretended during their difficult times. Just a ploy to disguise something. But how was she supposed to decode any message he might give her?

"You'd probably be a good lay." Dalhouise finally said, still not looking back.

O-kay... that was probably code for 'I've become an unmitigated asshole like my father.' Mehgan allowed herself a disgusted snort.

"You were such a cute kid- what went wrong?" She snapped, irritably. It seemed to spark something in Dalhouise, because Mehgan just barely had time to bring up her lightsaber. Dalhouise had spun and thrown something at her, so quickly that her eye couldn't follow it. Only as her lightsaber batted it away did Mehgan see a glowing blue, diamond-shaped dagger. It ricocheted off her blade, undamaged, before flying clear through a tree trunk and leaving a perfectly circular hole, large enough for Mehgan to see the blade embedded into a rock on the other side.

Dalhouise's crimson eyes were glaring at her, almost hatefully, except somehow, not, before he resumed his calm stance.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, the twins said they wanted Toh-Toh to be home for their fourth birthday. I have no intention of delaying this for the likes of you."

And with that, Dalhouise lifted two fingers to his chin and disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving Mehgan staring at the spot he'd been standing and cursing over her inability to fight back. With a sigh, she returned to her scavenging for food, all the while muttering to herself,

"You better be taking care of him, DJ-88."

Deep below the surface, in the Lost City of the Jedi, the little three-year-old that Dalhouise had been searching for was completely unaware that his life or existence were in danger. In fact, he was completely unaware there were any troubles in the galaxy at all, besides his own, the chief of which was that he was hungry, Dee-Jay was nowhere around to feed him, and he was still too short to reach the grain meal.

The first solution was obvious- make a stack of things to climb up and get the grain meal down from the shelf. Ken had some difficulty finding things he could drag over and stack, but did manage to make a tower of some sort, mostly out of pillows and a few books.

Still, it was something he could climb on, and Ken was proud of himself for thinking it up. It was only once he was at the very top on what had to be the flattest pillow in the galaxy that he realized he was still nowhere near close to reaching his breakfast. The shelf it was on was still too high, even with his tower to lift him closer to it.

The second solution would be to try and shake the shelf until the grain meal came down- after all, SOMETHING had to be up there. Maybe it would push the grain meal off and down to him.

Frustrated, Ken took hold of the bottom shelf as best he could and tried to pull. The shelf didn't budge. Ken rocked, trying to pull the shelf with him, but it remained firmly in place, welded to the floor and wall. Ken even tried kicking the shelf, which only gave him a bruised toe, prompting him to sit down and cry for a few minutes before he tried shaking the shelf again. There was a rattling above and Ken could see the box of grain meal shaking, edging away from the shelf.

Oh, he got it- the grain meal was just sleeping. Now it was awake and ready for breakfast too. Ken took another shake at the shelf, rewarded for his efforts when the box tipped and fell down to the floor, opening and spilling.

Mission accomplished. Now, time to eat. Ken peered down at the grain meal on the floor, fingers clinging to the edge of the pillow he was on, before it occurred to him... he was up HERE, the grain meal was down THERE. The grain meal was on the floor, and he was on a tower a foot up. How was he supposed to get down? Ken hadn't thought about that...

"DEE-JAY!" Ken screamed, pulling his injured foot closer and clinging to it. As there was no sound of Dee-Jays familiar footsteps, Ken shouted again, then started to panic. What if Dee-Jay was mad for some reason? Or what if he couldn't hear? Or what if Ken never saw him again? He was just going to sit up on top of this cushion for the rest of his life until he died, his toe hurt, he was scared, and to top it all off, he was still hungry.

Ken had been crying for a good two minutes when two big, metal hands lifted him off the pillows and pulled him up into a rocking motion. White. Dee-Jay. Ken stopped crying, but still sniffled as his toe continued to throb and his stomach continued to cry out for food.

"Bekfas." Ken pointed over Dee-Jay's shoulder to the spilled grain meal on the floor. Dee-Jay understood enough to seat Ken in a chair with an eating tray attached and scoop some sort of food out for him to eat. The moment that a single grain bounced and fell to the floor, however, Ken picked up another and tossed it after the first, marveling at how the grains of cereal all seemed to follow the same pattern- always down, and always bouncing on the ground.

Dee-Jay interrupted the experiment by pushing a grain of cereal into Ken's mouth, reminding him that he'd been hungry.

"Honestly, how can you dote on this boy so consistently? Our responsibility is to raise him as droids, not act like he's offspring or something." Put in a new presence- this one was from the fussy droid that was mostly responsible for cleaning up and watching Ken when Dee-Jay had to be elsewhere. Ken knew him as HC. Dee-Jay had a different name for him, but Ken didn't really care, especially not when there was cereal to be had at. He threw another grain, then put one in his mouth. HC made a frustrated noise that Ken still didn't know was called "Frustrated" before proceeding to clean up the scattered grain.

"This is normal Human child psychology. He is experimenting with gravity to see if everything will fall and bounce if he drops it, or if gravity only works SOME of the time." Dee-Jay explained, calmly setting a bottle in front of Ken. It was always an odd thing- even though Ken knew what it was, he still didn't know that it would always be the same thing. Maybe, one day, instead of this weird, oblong shape, it would be something like an hourglass, or a square.

Ken promptly picked it up, turned it upside down, and shook. Whatever was inside made noise, but nothing came out. Ken shook again, then giggling at the noise it made- it sounded like water splashing, but at the same time, it was thicker, and the resulting sound was, to Ken's ears, the height of hilarity.

HC made a displeased noise and dropped the retrieved cereal onto Ken's tray, only stopped by Dee-Jay.

"When was the floor last sterilized?" Dee-Jay asked. Ken paid no attention to them, content to pick up the retrieved cereal and throw it again, clapping his hands with delight as this one rolled after it bounced. He threw another grain, but didn't clap when it just bounced. Why didn't they all roll like that first one? Maybe he had to do something... well, he'd clapped when the other had rolled, so maybe that was it.

Ken threw another and tried clapping, but the grain simply bounced, uncaring of the experiments it was being put through.

"This morning- just a few hours ago." HC replied, irritably. Dee-Jay removed the grains that HC had just cleaned off the floor.

"During that time, Ken has been crawling over the floor- it's no longer sanitary enough for him to eat off of." Dee-Jay said, firmly. Ken paid them no attention, resorting to chewing on the nub of his bottle and more than happy to discover that he tasted milk doing so. Even as the two droids continued to bicker, Ken didn't listen, happy that he was fed. Then, the grain throwing experiment continued.

"Humans are so impractical- why cannot they just have a science module uploaded so they understand the physics of gravity right from the start? It becomes such a bother to teach them all of this." HC complained, even as he bent to continue picking up the grains.

"Then, when Ken is old enough to begin schooling, you may be the judge of how well he does. Perhaps he will learn quickly if the correct droid is responsible for his grades." Dee-Jay replied, patiently. Ken didn't listen, but continued to throw the uneaten cereal. This time, the piece he threw bounced twice, then flipped in midair, rolled, and finally spun on the floor. Ken's gray eyes grew big as he giggled in delight. Without any warning, three other pieces of cereal jumped, on their own accord, from his tray and performed the same feat. Ken giggled harder and more cereal jumped.

"Fly! Fly!" He cried, clapping his hands. HC chased after the cereal with annoyance while Dee-Jay did his best to calm the boy. It should be noted that "Doing one's best" does not necessarily mean that one succeeds. Ken continued to giggle and clap his hands, sending more cereal over the floor. HC became more irritated, until Dee-Jay eventually walked over and forcibly injected a wire to HC's circuit panel, deleting a portion of his more intense emotional programming.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to teach him to control his abilities early on." Dee-Jay conceded, as HC recovered and returned to his duties, though with less grumbling. Ken continued his experimenting, before Dee-Jay left, returning with a new robotic creation, this one about the same size and shape as the toddler who was still playing with his food.

"What is that?" HC asked, still with some mild annoyance and curiosity, but none of the hostility that Dee-Jay had removed from his program. Dee-Jay set the unit on the floor and pressed a switch. In a moment, the finned head bobbed and started to move while the bendable limbs started to mimic the motions of a child crawling, then standing up and waddling over to the other child in the room.

"Serial number 000001- a droid programmed to be similar to a Human." Dee-Jay explained, as the droid waddled over to Ken, whom promptly poked the droid in what would have been the eye, "Human brains do not develop as thoroughly, nor to their neurons connect as fully when the child is just left by itself. Company, connection, playtime, and physical touch are crucial at this stage for a child to mature properly. Besides which, Ken will need to learn how to behave as a Human. With just droids as role models, there may come the day when he must live with other Humans, and he will be nothing more than a droid in Human skin. To have a companion that will set an example for him to follow, perhaps he will have a better chance at becoming a normal child."

"Just a microchip among computers, then." HC surmised, even as the two little ones continued to study eachother. The awkward tension was broken as Ken poked the middle of the droid's forehead with two fingers and squealed,

"Chi! Chi! Chi chi chi chi!" For a moment, Dee-Jay almost thought that Ken had learned his first swear word, before he realized Ken was simply slurring the 'ch' so it almost sounded like 'sh'. Then, he understood, putting a hand to his metallic beard, considering the matter.

"Now, there's a thought." He mused, "Yes, a real name- Microchip. Not a serial number or combination of numbers and letters, but a name." Meanwhile, Ken was still poking at the little droid repeating 'Chi chi chi chi chi' over and over, "Though Ken seems to have already decided an appropriate nickname for this one."

Ken was let out of his chair and promptly walked over and gave "Chip" a push. The droid stumbled, but finally pushed back, sending Ken to the floor. Ken blinked in utter shock for a few minutes before he stood back up and gave Chip a push again.

"Chi!" Ken asserted. Chip stumbled, then waddled back and gave another shove.

"Ken." Unlike the Human toddler, his voice was very articulate and distinct. Ken didn't seem to quite approve of this, and expressed his displeasure with another shove. This one pushed Chip over, but he got back up relatively quickly.

And thus, the name war began and was quickly ended when Dee-Jay decided that, if they kept it up much longer, they would get each other confused about who was who.

"So, he's been well taken care of then... that boy..."

A/N: ...Yes, children really do act like that. I honestly believe all the people who are writing the Star Wars EU books have never had children, because they have NO clue how children act.

This chapter's title was written and performed by the Goo Goo Dolls.