Chapter 2
44.5 ABY – Trucemaker
When Keldon Lassiter had watched his eighteen-year-old sister Gennevi enlist in the New Republic Defense Fleet, he never expected that she'd stay in longer than her initial contractual obligation of five years. He certainly had not expected her to receive the references necessary to go through officer's basic training. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in her piloting abilities… it was just that Gennevi had never had the best appreciation for authority and chain-of-command; in fact, he had always suspected that her enlistment was more about rebellion and shirking the norms of Kuati society than any true sense of duty.
More than twenty-six years later though, as he sat in the front row of an audience that was nearly entirely comprised of former superiors, comrades, and subordinates of his sister, he was forced to reevaluate his initial skeptical reaction to her decision to enlist.
He'd always known that she could fly- their father may have been killed along with the rest of Carida when they were all of twelve and ten years old, but she had taken after his love for flying, despite the rarity with which they saw him once their parents had separated. Perhaps her enlistment had been an homage of sorts to their flight-instructor father, a father they had, in truth, lost the chance to know very well at all.
Motivations aside- and, in the grand scheme of things, irrelevant, he supposed- Gennevi was now retiring as a colonel with sixteen years of starfighter command under her belt and just over eighteen months in command operations.
The siblings had not seen one another in nearly three years, so Keldon had yet to hear the full story of her change from commanding fighter pilots to an advisory post in operations- but he had gathered enough to ascertain that she had done something… well, something stupid, possibly even went against orders in the process… and that the change in position had been the result in a roundabout way.
He trusted that he would be able to wheedle the full details from her soon. Though more than twenty years later, he never knew the full details of a reprimand she had received during her enlisted tenure, but could infer enough to know that she had gotten involved in a personal relationship with someone prohibited- an officer, probably, but not one in her own chain-of-command, or else she would have been discharged at a moment's notice, and dishonorably at that.
And as he sat there, watching the ceremony winding down, Keldon Lassiter was blissfully ignorant of the fact that the officer in question had been, at the time, the commander of the much-celebrated Rogue squadron; that, some twenty years later, Gennevi would fly directly under his command in the Fourth Fleet aboard the Trucemaker; that, at this very moment, the commander in question- Admiral Gavin Darklighter- was pinning Gennevi's final citation on the left breast of her uniform.
No, various moments of insubordination aside, Gennevi certainly had a long and distinguished career to look back upon with whatever she decided to do next in life. Her older brother certainly wouldn't blame her if she took some time to figure that out, after more than a quarter-century spent in military service to the New Republic and later to the Galactic Alliance. Their brief transmission from a month prior gave him the somewhat confusing impression that she planned to relocate to Coruscant, but he hoped to persuade her to spend some time on her home planet of Kuat. It wasn't that he expected she'd stay long term- there was a reason she'd left in the first place- but if nothing else, she had two nephews and a niece who hadn't seen her in far too long, the youngest of whom barely remembered his aunt.
"Colonel Lassiter," Darklighter took a step back and stood at attention, "the Galactic Alliance thanks you for your distinguished and selfless service. As someone who has flown with you in combat, commanded a squadron beside your own, and later served as your commanding officer, I can say with complete sincerity that your contributions to the military have been invaluable, and that you will be missed; and I trust that those who have flown under you would echo my sentiments."
There was a jovial chorus of 'hooah!' in the assembled crowd, and Keldon chuckled and glanced around at some of the grinning younger pilots. His eyes lingered for a moment on a young girl a few seats down in the row behind him. She was young, not much over eighteen if that, but she looked ever so vaguely familiar. A simple tan tunic contrasted sharply with the formal navy dress wear adorned by the human and rodian pilot on either side of her.
An unnoticed signal drew everyone to their feet, and Keldon forced his eyes back to front as he stood. Darklighter threw Gennevi a salute, and the rest of the crowd followed suit- those who were actually in the military, anyway- and then it was over, and his sister was no longer a commissioned officer in the Galactic Alliance Defense Fleet.
There was applause- and a few cheers among the younger, more rowdy bunch- and Gennevi exchanged a hug and a few quiet words with the admiral before turning and smiling broadly at Keldon. She came forward and hugged him tightly. "Thanks for being here today," she murmured as he released her and regarded her from arm's length. "It's been far too long. How are Sephina and the kids?"
"Good, good," he assured her. "Thiren just started school, he's five already."
Gennevi winced. "Probably doesn't remember what I look like, does he?" Keldon shrugged and smiled apologetically. His sister opened her mouth to further inquire after the children, but then paused, glancing over his shoulder, and a wide grin blossomed on her face, though she quickly controlled herself. Keldon looked around and saw a man who stood out in a long brown cloak hovering in the doorway. Gennevi beckoned him over and grinned abashedly at her brother. "Keldon, there's someone I want you to meet…"
Keldon's eyes were drawn to the lightsaber at the man's belt, and he cocked a brow as he extended a hand. "Jedi?"
"Yeah… Kyp, my brother, Keldon- Keldon, this is Jedi Master Kyp Durron."
He stiffened at the name, hesitated, the laughed uneasily as he finished shaking the other's hand. "Good one," he said drily to his sister. Her eyes widened marginally, and she looked at the Jedi Master apologetically. "You're… not joking," he frowned heavily and looked between the two, and then remembered the young girl he had seen in the row behind him. "That was the Solo girl, sitting behind me…"
Durron's lips compressed into a thin smile, though it was Gennevi who bristled. "Her name is Leyla, Keldon, and she's a Jedi Knight. Kyp and Leyla flew with my squadron for a short time, almost two years ago."
A brow rose smoothly. "Around the same time you turned over your command?"
Gennevi flushed. "Keldon, don't-"
"Hi, Gennevi," a new voice broke in brightly, "it's great to see you." Leyla Solo-Fel gave the older woman a half-hug and kissed her cheek lightly. Without skipping a beat, she turned to her father. "Dad, Admiral Darklighter was wondering if you'd like to watch me beat him in dejarik. Personally, I think he just wants someone who will be able to tell if I'm cheating, but…" she grinned, and only the slightest tightness around her eyes betrayed her true purpose in asking- stopping a scene before it started.
The Master smiled gratefully down at his daughter. "Sure thing. Gennevi," he nodded to her, "I'll see you later?"
"Of course," she murmured, eyes trailing after the two as they strolled away and met Darklighter at the door. Whether or not there was truly a dejarik game planned between the admiral and the soon-to-be-knighted Jedi, Gennevi did not know, but her now-former commander betrayed no sign of confusion as the two Jedi strolled casually out with him. Once they were gone, she turned stoically back towards her brother. "Keldon…"
"Kyp Durron?"
"Keldon, you can't-"
"He's a murderer, Gennevi!"
Her voice was tight and controlled. "He's a Jedi Master on the Masters' Council, a good father, and a good man."
He laughed derisively. "I'll think about that the next time I remember the fact that he killed our father."
Something stiffened in her jaw and she met his stare resolutely. "I'm hardly looking for your approval, my dear brother."
His smile, while mocking, was somewhat bemused. "My approval? What would you need…?" he trailed away, stared at his younger sister, glanced back to the doorway through which Durron had just disappeared moments earlier, and then whipped back around to gape at her. "My god, you… you're seeing him, aren't you? You're going to Coruscant for him?"
"I don't want to talk about this now, and I especially don't want to talk about this here," she hissed at him.
He shook his head disbelievingly. "You do what you have to do, Gennevi."
It was silent for a moment while she frowned up at him. "What does that mean?" she finally asked.
His smile was brittle and forced. "It means that, just as ever before, I want you to be happy; but if you expect me to make nice with the man who killed millions- with the man who killed our own father… I won't do it, Gennevi."
X-X-X-X
46 ABY – Coruscant
"Admiral Darklighter contacted me," he began haltingly. "And, uh… shavit… you didn't tell me- I mean, I thought that…" he took a forcedly steady breath and exhaled slowly. "I was a horrible prat, alright? But I wish you'd told me that you were getting married."
She stared. "Keldon, we haven't spoken in over a year. In fact, we haven't spoken since you stormed from my quarters- the day I resigned and before I could even begin to feel like a civilian, before I could even dress like a civilian- and said I was delusional and mind-warped by Jedi tricks." He winced. "And as I recall, my one attempt to contact you since then was ignored, so no, I didn't tell you that I'm getting married. Such as it is, I'm getting married in less than an hour and I know you're not foolish enough to get a bride worked up so close to the main event, hm?"
The look in her older brother's eyes was pained, but it was laced with a self-directed chagrin that showed just how aware he was of the justification of her censure. "Gennevi, I know I messed up, and I'm sorry. But you have to understand how… bizarre I found the whole thing. Family considerations aside, it's hardly like I could have expected that you'd even know Durron, let alone that you'd been seeing him for the better part of two years."
Gennevi sniffed. "I wasn't seeing him for the better part of two years," she countered coldly. "I saw him twice in all that time while we fulfilled our existing obligations to the Fleet and to the Jedi."
"Right," Keldon muttered uncomfortably. "Well, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry and… well, I guess I've done that now, so I can go if you'd like."
She let out a heavy sigh. "You came all the way to Coruscant for that?"
He flushed in chagrin. "I- no, not exactly. I bumped up a meeting that was scheduled for next month with some contractors, but I thought that… if you wanted me to… I could be there for you. I could even give you away, if you…?"
"It isn't really that kind of a wedding, Keldon, given the lack of familial relations on either side…" he looked cowed again. "Anyway, Han already offered and I turned him down."
Keldon blinked. "Han Solo?" She inclined her head stiffly. "Wow," he whistled.
Gennevi rolled her eyes. "If you want, you can stay. I'm sure Leia and Mara would be more than happy to show you to the ceremony hall. Anything to keep them out of here for a few more minutes," she smiled ruefully. Her brother came forward and folded her into a hesitant and careful hug that nevertheless served to ease some of the tension between them. "I'm sorry that I won't get the chance to see Sephina and the children."
A definitely guilty look settled on his face. "They, ah- they're in a room down the corridor with the young Skywalker boy- Ben, is it?"
After an incredulous pause, Gennevi laughed. "Oh, alright, go- tell them that I look forward to seeing them after the ceremony." He smiled warmly and backed out of the room. "Oh!" Gennevi called after him, "and tell Leyla to get back in here and get dressed!"
The girl in question stuck her head in the room and grinned. "I don't think you're able to tell me what to do for about another hour."
"Leyla, you're almost twenty years old and- more importantly perhaps- are constantly armed with a lightsaber. I don't think I'll ever be giving you orders… at least not ones I expect to be followed. Nevertheless," she sized up the young woman before her, "I am getting married in forty-five minutes, which means I am in charge, so get out of that grimy jumpsuit and put your dress on!"
A sly smirk touched Leyla's lips even as she retrieved her amethyst gown from the closest on the far side of the dressing room. "You know," she murmured softy as she began unfastening the clasps on her jumpsuit, "I seem to recall that several months ago, you proposed getting married in your dress uniform and dad in his Jedi-wear…" She peered over at the shimmering silver fabric that adorned the figure of the coming bride. "Seems a pretty big step up to me."
"And for that," Gennevi responded delicately, "you may blame your grandmother."
X-X-X-X
Thyferra
The insectoid vratix sat on the other side of a one-way transparisteel window, seemingly unaware of those observing it, looking for any signs of change in its behavior, in the steadiness of its life signs. It was also seemingly unaware of the fact that a small quantity of a deadly gas had just been pumped into its specially modified, air-tight cell.
Seconds ticked by, and it seemed that the humans on the opposite side of the viewing pane collectively held their breath as they observed the experiment being conducted on the Ashern rebel vratix. The being- not truly a he or she, and referring to itself in the collective whenever it spoke- had painted its carapace black and sharpened the claws on its forelegs. Both acts were symbolic as well as practical for the rebellious insects who resorted to uncharacteristic violence to attempt to completely remove foreign aliens- humans, mostly- from the process of bacta production and from their home world.
Executions of the Ashern were all too frequent occurrences at the central detention facility in the capital city of Xozhixi. This particular execution was wholly different however, not least for the reason that the ultimate goal of the experiment was for the vratix to survive- unlike its co-conspirator who lay dead in the next cell. And indeed, as the door to the observation gallery slid open and a woman slipped inside, the tension seemed to break and the chief administrator turned questioningly to the tall, cloaked man at his side.
The silence stretched on for ten more seconds while the man closed his eyes and concentrated… and then he relaxed and sighed. "No change; the experiment is successful." The relief was evident on the balding administrator's face. "Continue to monitor Brey overnight for further signs of the poison; if he shows none, you may execute him how and when you see fit. Just be sure to fully purify the air before you break the seal."
The shorter man nodded his understanding and his companion turned to the woman and motioned her out of the gallery. He followed her to a nearby conference room and waved on the lights with a flick of his wrist. With a heavy sigh, he sank down into a chair and rubbed his eyes. "The whole process would make me less queasy if the vratix's reward for surviving wasn't a swift execution tomorrow."
"He's dead either way," the woman pointed out quietly. "Better to do it this way than to test the substance on vratix randomly pulled from the population." Her companion said nothing and peered at her with reluctant curiosity until she relented with a sigh of her own. "Sullust has fallen."
A fist clenched, but he sighed and shrugged resignedly. "Belotab must be getting pretty nervous."
"He won't do anything drastic; not while there is still so much he doesn't understand. We have time." She perched on the edge of the conference table and touched a hand to his cheek, caressing softly. "Relax, darling; the galaxy will still be waiting for us in the morning."
He brought his hand up to clasp hers tightly. "For some reason, that thought isn't wholly comforting. Then again…" he considered, "things should be pretty interesting when we make it back to base. I thought we'd ship out tomorrow evening."
She nodded. "Come to bed?"
"In a minute."
But as he watched Tahlia's retreating figure, Zekk couldn't shake the image of the dead vratix lying on the floor of its cell. Its passing had been nearly painless, swift- indeed, from the first introduction of the poison into the cell, it had died in under a minute. To go so quickly, lacking comprehension, not even knowing why or how…
Perhaps it wouldn't be such an awful way to go.
X-X-X-X
