STANDARD DISCLAIMER: JQ characters belongs to HB. Non-JQ people are mine. Most of the places not familiar with JQ and actual real geography are due to the fact that this is an alternate Universe. While countries and territories are mostly historically accurate in the real world, there are also noted changes. Kannada native speakers, please forgive my preposterousness… feel free to suggest changes if you see stuff that badly need editing.
August 29, 2007
Into the Valley of Darkness
Chapter 1: In the Beginning...
Act 4: Behkhadji
by Ina-chan
TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP...
Angry footsteps thundered through the polished and exquisitely adorned halls, followed by panicked skittering footsteps behind it.
"Young Master... please... I beg you... his Excellency is in the middle of entertaining important guests..."
The servant's pleas were completely ignored as the doors opened with such force that they swung and slammed against the walls with a loud bang, causing the occupants of the room to look up with a start. Four important-looking people, who looked like they were enjoying a leisurely afternoon tea, stared at their intruder in surprised silence. The servants in the room curiously watched the tense situation from their posts.
As the image of the handsome and very angry young man finally registered in his mind, the oldest figure in the room let out a pained moan and made a small instinctive motion of looking up as if to ask for heavenly guidance.
A squeamish looking servant scurried precariously behind him and wrung his hands nervousely. "I tried to stop him Excellency... I told him that you were in the middle of entertaining guests..."
Deepak Karnataka, the current Prime Minister of the New Republic of India, was known through the country as an old wolf. His quiet and sedate demeanor always gave people the impression that he was simply a quiet old man.
But everyone who knew his role in Bengarulu's history was aware that the quiet old wolf could turn into a cunning and menacing predator when push came to shove. Fortunately, his killer instincts were rather slow to surface, just as his anger. Often times, people were caught completely unaware when the wolf would suddenly go for the kill. Those around him had learned to recognize the symptoms of his anger.
"Behkhadji, I see that you have safely arrived home."
It was a well known fact, that when Deepak called one of his wards by their full name that was usually a good indication that the old man was keeping his infamous temper in check. Behkhadji... Hadji, in his apparent fury, was either completely unaware or simply chose to ignore the signal.
He fearlessly raised his chin and even dared to stare at his uncle accusingly, "And I thank you for the kind 'welcome', Kakka."
"You are being excessively rude, Daayaadi," Vikram, who unlike his father, had not perfected the ability to harness his anger, jumped in, glaring at his younger cousin venomously.
For the past ten years, Deepak had been molding the two boys with the hope that either one would show promise in the political stage that their family had played a role for many generations. But Hadji's idealistic views and Vikram's no-nonsense businesslike demeanor, not to mention the unspoken sibling rivalry between the two young men, had gnawed at Deepak's patience throughout the years. It was a story he was all too familiar with, after all. He and his brother, Haresh, first walked down that path the same way as many of their ancestors who chose political life as part of their duty and their birthright.
Deepak sympathized with his son. Jealous tensions had often broke out between himself and his brother in their youth. Haresh was more charming, more charismatic, and always had the best ideas. So when they both decided that they would take that familiar road to politics as many Karnataka sons had before them, there was little doubt that Haresh's career would eventually lead him to the position that Deepak currently held… perhaps even to Presidency.
Of course, that fateful day in Geneva changed that. While a nation mourned the loss of a great leader, Deepak was pushed onto a political stage that was ready to fall apart at the seams. In turn, it also prematurely propelled his very young nephew to the public light. Partly fueled by Haresh's martyrdom and partly fueled by a brilliant propaganda movement, at age six, Behkhadji Karnataka's life as an ordinary boy quietly died as he was resurrected as a national living icon. A propaganda, that also conveniently solidify Deepak's place in Indian politics.
His many years of experience in Indian politics showed Deepak that the weight he inevitably put on his nephew's shoulders was more of a burden than the important honor the young man was made to believe. Unfortunately, insight brought by years of life's experiences was something his son, Vikram, lacked. And the unmistakable envy that Vikram had for his younger cousin seemed to bring about these situations at the worst possible moment. Hadji, being equally immature, was easily baited into his older cousin's traps.
"Rude? Is that all you have to say for yourself, Daayadi?" Hadji retorted, as he strode closer, "Kolkata… a great injustice just happened there that I could have helped prevent! Instead, I get put on house arrest and was not allowed to speak out when I could have been a valuable witness?"
"What happened in Kolkata was a tragedy, but our personnel acted appropriately according to the protocol of the situation," Vikram replied dismissively with a wave of a hand before continuing in a sarcastic tone. "As for your so-called house arrest, don't make me laugh Daayadi. It was far from that. You should be thankful of the measures we take to ensure your safety despite giving in to your selfishness. God forbid, it would be a national disaster if something happened to you."
"Me? What happened there had nothing to do with me! Twenty-five people were sentenced to be executed without a proper trial," Hadji retorted angrily.
"They were found with the possession of damning evidence," Vikram countered. "For the sake of maintaining peace, we need to do what must be done to show the public the crimes committed by these terrorists."
"Terrorists? Crimes? Who are you to act as judge and executioner? Innocent until proven guilty. That's why we have a judicial system in effect, Daayadi." Hadji retorted angrily. "Those people were deprived of a proper trial…"
"And waste time and more of the taxpayers money to allow these terrorist's comrades to roam free without repercussion?" Vikram laughed harshly as he eyed the younger man with a condescending glare. "May I remind you, daayadi, that the world is at war? While you dream of that perfect utopia, more and more of our brothers fall in the hands of the enemy? During these dire times, you need to cut a diseased branch before it infects the entire tree."
Hadji ground his teeth and clenched his fists, unable to find the words to counter his cousin as his temper finally started to get the better of him.
Vikram, sensing victory, smiled triumphantly. "Now I suggest that you turn around and go to your quarters like a good boy before you embarrass yourself further."
"And what if they were innocent?" The young man challenged in a last minute attempt to regain his ground.
"Daayaadi, watch your tongue. You almost sound like you are accusing the Paladin Command of something…" Vikram raised an eyebrow, as he looked toward their guests from the corner of his eye. "It would be a great scandal if people were to misunderstand that Bengaluru's favorite son was rumored to be a terrorist sympa---"
"ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU!" Deepak finally bellowed angrily over the display.
It was one thing to argue about the moral and ethical implications of their actions. Openly attacking the Karnataka Family's loyalty to the Order was something he could not allow. Deepak gave his son a poisonous reprimanding glare, causing the young man to flinch and lower his eyes in shame, before turning his gaze to his nephew. Hadji stubbornly refused to be intimidated, simply staring back at his uncle impassively and unapologetically.
The angry furrow on Deepak's forehead dug deeper. But the old man knew to pick his battles. He gave his nephew another reproachful glower, as if to promise repercussions for his actions later. "It's bad enough that the both of you would go after each other's necks with each opportunity. Now you go and embarrass our family in front of important guests."
"It's quite all right," a feminine voice spoke out in an amused tone. "It's not like they interrupted an important meeting. It is actually quite refreshing to see the Young Master, who is normally calm and collected, being so passionate."
Deepak grunted as his son simply forced a smile before giving his younger cousin another silent, spiteful glare.
It was only then that Hadji finally noticed a familiar beautiful young, Asian woman, peering at him in amusement over her cup of Darjeeling tea. Her long, silky, ebony hair, tucked behind one ear as it flowed generously over one shoulder, contrasted against the cream and gold-trimmed hue of her Salwar suit. Beside her was another young woman with identical features.
Unlike her sister, the second young woman's stony expression showed that she did not share her sister's amusement with his outburst. Then again the latter was known more for her strict sense of business than her sense of humor. Her dark hair was up in its familiar tight bun, and despite this being an "informal" visit, she still wore her military dress uniform. The bronze buttons on her collar and the insignia on her left breast pocket announced her rank as the highest official of the New Order Militia.
"Ana---!" Hadji's eyes widened in surprise, but he managed to bite his tongue before he could show more disrespect to their important guests. Still caught between his rage and mortification, Hadji could only stiffen his back as he gave the two women an apologetic bow. "I apologize for my behaviour, Lady Anaya... Lady Melana. Please excuse my rudeness."
With that, the young man turned around and left the room with what was left of his dignity. The skittish servant bowed ruefully as Hadji passed the doors. Deepak shot his son another condescending glare.
The young man recoiled visibly before bowing his head towards the two women before him and mumbling. "I, too, apologize my Ladies. My behaviour was... unacceptable."
"It does not matter..." Melana began only to be cut off as her sister started laughing. Melana raised an eyebrow, "Do you find anything humorous, sister?"
Anaya pushed strands of dark long hair from her face and dabbed her eyes as she composed herself. "Not really, sister. But if you would excuse me… Lord Vikram, and your Excellency... Thank you for the tea and the wonderful company. I'm afraid the day's travel is finally getting the better of me."
Vikram instantly got on his feet, "Then, I shall have one of the servants accompany you to your room."
Anaya laughed again, "There's no need. I have visited these grounds enough times since I was a child to know my way around. I'd like to take a short stroll through the gardens for some fresh air, only if that is alright?"
"Of course, Lady Anaya. As I told your Father many years ago, consider the Karnataka Main House your home as well," Deepak stated pleasantly.
"Shall I accompany you through the gardens…" Vikram began again.
"Thank you, but if you don't mind, Lord Vikram, I do prefer to take my walks alone." Anaya interrupted again in a significant tone.
Vikram forced another smile, bowed politely and sat back in his seat awkwardly after the young woman made her way across the room. The nervous servant waiting by the door gave her another courteous bow as she passed through the door. Melana simply stared at her sister's retreating figure impassively as she sipped her cup of tea.
"As we were talking before we were interrupted…" Deepak began as he cleared his throat and made a small motion with his hand. The skittish servant bowed to the occupants of the room and closed the massive doors.
The serenity of the gardens always calmed him… from the sight of the branches of the flamboyant Gulmohar swinging in the breeze to the delicate sweet scents of the Jasmines in full bloom.
When he was old enough to be sent away for his primary schooling, or during the various long stays required for public appearances with his family, and his recent admission to military school, the only thing that truly made him miserable was the fact that he missed the gardens at home.
Not that there weren't any gardens in the places he went or was sent to. They were simply not the same as the gardens at home. Nothing compared to Bengaluru's gardens. It was India's Garden City after all.
Though this particular garden was special. It was Neela's garden, his mother's. Of course, the gardeners had taken over its care long after his mother had passed away. However, Chaman, the senior gardener, who had already been serving his family before his father was even born, tried to keep this spot the same way as Neela liked it.
Hadji's remaining happy memories of his childhood were always in this garden. There was an old, weatherworn ornamental boulder overlooking a small serene man-made fishpond at the corner. It was partly veiled by the shade of the overhanging vines and flowers of white, bright blue and purple Butterfly Peas that bloomed in the late summer. It was a special spot he had claimed as his own since he was a child. Whenever he needed a solitary and quiet place, people simply needed to look at that spot in Neela's garden to find him.
A solitary and quiet place to calm his nerves was something that he always found he needed after confrontations with his cousin. He never really understood why. Since they were children, Hadji always felt that Vikram held something against him. All attempts to make peace or win him over failed and every interaction with the older man always ended in a heated round of verbal jousting.
There was, however, one occasion when Vikram was fourteen, when their verbal argument escalated into a brawl. Of course, it never happened again. At age nine, Hadji had proved that he shared his uncle's ferocity, which Vikram could not match despite being five years older and twice the younger boy's size.
As Hadji sat cross-legged on his boulder, he closed his eyes, took a deep cleansing breath and tried to clear his mind and calm his heart from the anger gnawing away at the corners of his consciousness. Strands that managed to get away from his neatly bound dark long hair swayed gently with the rhythm of the cool breeze.
But the meditation technique that usually calmed him could not bring the relaxed state he craved. He opened his eyes and made a fist. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't help remembering what had happened four days past… his part in it... or more like his inability to do something about it.
The main reason why he wanted to join the military was because of his desire to serve his country and take part in what many young men in his country had been doing. He wasn't blind or naïve so as to not understand that his social status prevented him from doing what regular boys his age would do. He always hated it. How everything he did or he was involved with needed to first pass his uncle's advisors' scrutiny.
In fact, just the simple choice of wanting to join the military was met with an overwhelming amount of resistance from his Uncle and his advisors. While Hadji's nationalism would obviously win the favour of the people, allowing him to take such an occupation that would put his life in danger was not an option.
Then again, it was also inevitable that there was nothing his Uncle, his advisors, or anyone could do when Hadji turned seventeen. By then he would be eligible to enter the military with or without his uncle's permission. Anaya even already made special arrangements induct him as a reserve officer in the elite New Order Paladin Command. It was already expected that he would officially earn a special rank with the Paladin Command by the time he finished his official military training. In the end, his uncle gave in to the young man's will by the compromise of allowing his admission to military school.
But who knew that a simple school excursion could shake his resolve?
Four days ago, he and a small group of students from his class had embarked on an earned, special school trip to observe an actual military procedure. It was supposed to be a simple, boring scouting mission that became an unfortunate tragedy that faced national scrutiny. The media painted a damning portrait of hardcore terrorists threatening national security. But what Hadji witnessed was far from that grim portrait.
All he saw were young men and women all close to his age who were supposedly innocent until proven guilty and depended on the fair judgment of the Sovereign, herded like sheep and sent to the slaughter. And all he could do was to allow the military and school officials to lead him and his classmates away before the media came and got wind of his presence there. It was no coincidence that the students involved in the trip were exempted from finals and discharged from school almost two weeks early before the term holidays.
Worst of all, soon after the incident Hadji found himself being unceremoniously shipped to an isolated in one of the family vacation houses without word of explanation or contact with the outside world for three days. The next thing he knew, he was hearing the sensational news of how a group of terrorists had been caught and sentenced to death after a suspicious and uncharacteristically efficient trial. Hadji buried his face in his hands, letting his frustrations and anger get the better of him.
"I figured you would be sulking here."
"I'm not in the mood… don't you think I've been through enough humiliation without your goading?" Hadji murmured in defeat, not bothering to look up.
"Now, you're just being rude," Anaya stated, parroting Vikram's tone. "Here I am, taking precious time out of my busy schedule just to see you and you haven't even noticed my new outfit."
"I'm serious! It's been a very long day…" Hadji replied miserably.
Anaya studied the young man for a few moments before walking casually around the edge of the pond. "This isn't like you. What happened to the ferocious tiger cub who put Vikram in his place?"
"'Vikram'" Hadji looked up and raised an eyebrow at her. "Since when have you been on a first name basis?"
"Jealous?" Anaya teased playfully.
Hadji snorted. "Like he would even last an hour alone with yo---"
---SWIIIIISH---
"HEY!" Hadji cried out indignantly as he dodged out of the way of a makeshift switch that swished at the spot where his head was supposed to be by rolling off the boulder in one quick motion. He crouched in a combat stance as his dark eyes glared in annoyance his opponent. "What do you think are you doing?"
"Good. I see that you have been practicing. I certainly hope this is going to be more of a challenge than the last time," Anaya declared haughtily, raising the slender branch expertly in her hand as if she were holding a fencing rapier instead, as she circled him cautiously.
"You'll ruin your new outfit," Hadji countered as he followed her suit.
"Then I'll just have you buy me a new one," Anaya countered casually. "But knowing your track record… I'm not even worried about breaking a sweat, Raja."
"I really wish you'd stop calling me that," The young man replied irritably then frowned, "Do you not think that I have outgrown that ridiculous nick name?"
"Not as ridiculous as your hair!" The young woman laughed as she dramatically flipped her own long hair, "Your hair is probably even longer than mine. How they managed to let you get away with that in school is beyond me."
"You know that's..." The young man replied automatically
"AGH! I can't believe how gullible you are! Why do you listen and believe the stupid things I tell you and don't think about the ones that are pure common sense?" Anaya rolled her eyes as she threw the switch behind her. She smiled mischievously in challenge, "I hope you haven't changed your beliefs about sparring with a lady?"
"You? A lady?" Hadji replied in mock disbelief.
Anaya simply laughed as she attacked, "You are really making it very difficult for your cousin to like you."
Dodge. Block. Parry. Block. Dodge.
"No loss. I don't like him either."
Jab. Parry. Punch. Kick. Kick. Backfist.
"Is that all you practiced? To block and to dodge? Are you trying to dance your opponent to death? I agree that Vikram acts like he has a stick stuck up his behind, but he has more experience working for your Uncle's office. It pays to stop and listen once and a while to your elders."
The young man raised another eyebrow. "First you refer to him casually, then you defend him… is there something you're not telling me?"
Block. Kick. Kick. Kick. Jab. Punch. PUNCH...
Anaya laughed again. "Careful Raja, deny all you want… but you're really starting to sound suspiciously jealous." DODGE. "But I admit…" Block. Block. "It's…" PUNCH. "…cute."
"Cute?" Hadji glared at her in disbelief. Block. "CUTE?!" Block. Grab
Anaya gasped and stared at the young man above her incredulously as the impossible registered in her mind. With a sudden burst of uncharacteristic sped and strength, Hadji was able to trap her arms in an unbreakable hold and grapple her unceremoniously to the ground.
"Bravo," Anaya huffed as she caught her breath. "Who knew this moment would come?"
"I'm no longer a scrawny eight-year-old that you can bully around," Hadji replied smugly.
"I can see that," Anaya replied with a coy smile.
As if suddenly realizing their compromising position, Hadji's eyes widened and he froze for a split second. But that split second was all she needed to regain her advantage. Before the young man knew it, Anaya managed to break loose of his hold and lock his arms painfully behind his back. "Raja, Raja, Raja… what have they been teaching you in that school of yours? Or were you sleeping during your classes?" Her playfulness gone, her voice laced with annoyance and disappointment.
Hadji could only clench his teeth to keep himself from crying out loud as she made her point with various painful tugs. When Anaya finally released him, his arms felt like they were on fire and he could have sworn she probably had dislocated both shoulders. But all the pain was forgotten as he saw her standing over him with her hands on her hips.
"When it comes to combat, it doesn't matter if the opponent in front of you is a man, woman or child." Anaya scolded with a hard expression on her face such that Hadji could easily have mistaken the person standing in front of him as her sister. "If this were as a real battle, you'd be dead. You don't let your personal feelings or inhibitions get the better of you."
"You made your point," Hadji grimaced. The tone of her voice hit him harder than the physical pain she inflicted on him. He rubbed his shoulders painfully as he sprawled back on the ground. "I'm not built to be a soldier like you."
"As usual, you think the worst of yourself. That's not what I meant at all." Anaya sighed as she sat cross-legged on the spot just above his head. "You have the tendency to belittle your importance. I doubt that your uncle will admit it aloud, but the main reason why he has so much influence over your country is, arguably, because you exist. The people support him because of you."
"The people support him because of the memory of my father." Hadji protested. "It has nothing to do with me. Let's face it. I haven't really done anything worthwhile. I'm really more like a living monument than a real person to a lot of people. My uncle and his advisors simply want to pull my strings so I can dance to whatever tune they play. I can't even do a good job with that. I can't keep my mouth shut and follow orders."
"Idiot. You make it sound like that's a bad thing. Loyalty is not the same as blind loyalty." Anaya argued, her features softening. "But you do have to learn when and where to choose your battles. A hot-blooded soldier who blindly runs into the battlefield unprepared won't survive for long."
"I already know that. It's just…" Hadji let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes. "I'm just tired… angry… frustrated. Tired. For just once, I want to be able to do something without one of Kakka's advisors looking over my shoulder."
"Well… I think I can do something about that…" Anaya began as she nudged his shoulders playfully. "A great idea just occurred to me."
Hadji looked up at her only to see that familiar mischievous twinkle once again present in her eyes. All at once, he couldn't help feeling a sense of excitement laced with a twinge of fear whenever he saw that expression. He eyed her suspiciously, "This isn't going to be like that great idea you had during the Parliament Banquet…"
"What? No! I can't believe you still haven't forgiven me for that! That was more than seven years ago!" Anaya scowled, looking genuinely offended. "You don't really have anything scheduled for the next couple of weeks, right?"
"No," Hadji replied, frowning a little. "They'd probably try to keep me hidden until the whole Kolkata incident blows over."
"Then come with me to New London! It doesn't have to be an official trip. We can make it look like you'll be accompanying me as a personal guard as a member of the Paladin Reserve Forces." Anaya proposed excitedly. "You're not a public icon in New London like you are here. So if we keep your departure quiet, you can walk around as freely as you like. The media usually stays out of our way, so even if you get recognized, as long as they know you're in official business with me, you'll be left alone. Alright! It's settled then! Pack your bags. We'll be leaving in two days…"
"Wait!" Hadji sat up grabbing her shoulders to slow her down. "What makes you think that they'll let me go just like that?"
Anaya gave him an offended glare. "Who do you think are you talking to? I mean yes, your uncle's advisors will be completely against it… but your uncle can never say no to any of my personal requests. If I insist that I wish you to be my personal guard, not even your President will say no."
"That's not what I meant." Hadji sighed. "Aren't you forgetting another person who would be completely against this?"
"I'm sure I can change their mind otherwise!" Anaya countered confidently.
"Your sister?" Hadji replied, giving her a knowing look. "I'm not exactly her favourite person in the world."
"You'll be accompanying me, not her." Anaya rolled her eyes before nudging his shoulders again playfully. "Admit it, it's a great idea. It'll just be like old times. It's been a long time since we spent more than day together."
"I'll think about it," Hadji replied non-committally, despite knowing that there really was nothing he could do once the young woman made her mind up about something.
"There's nothing to think about." Anaya scoffed. "It's decided. I'll speak to your uncle this evening and you can make preparations to leave…"
"You…" Hadji let out an annoyed snort before spreading out his arms and lying back on the ground again in defeat. "I wish you'd stop treating me like that. I'm old enough to decide for myself."
"Eh? Is little Raja saying that he doesn't want to spend any of his precious time with his big sister Anaya?" Anaya pouted playfully as she bent over him.
"I didn't say that," Hadji replied, even more annoyed. "I do want to spend time with you. But not if you're going to keep treating me like I'm still eight."
Anaya's features softened as her mischievous tone fell into a soft whisper. "And just how do you want me to treat you?"
The young man didn't reply. Instead, he reached out with both hands and caressed the young woman's face. Anaya gave him a small smile as she rested her palms on either side of his head as she shifted into a more comfortable position to bend over him even closer, her long hair veiling over their faces like a curtain.
"I'm sorry to interrupt." a voice called out blandly.
Hadji automatically sat up in surprise, his forehead catching Anaya's chin with a loud undignified crack. Through the tears watering his eyes, Hadji was able to make out Melana's silhouette looking down at them in that all too familiar stoically bored manner of hers that always made him make sure that there wasn't any mud on his shoes.
"If you don't mind, Lord Behkhadji, I'd like to have a private word with my sister," Melana continued without skipping a beat.
The last thing he wanted was to be caught in a compromising position with Anaya… most of all, by her sister. Trying to ignore the pain and the ringing in his ears, he quickly got on his feet and for the second time, tried to collect what's left of his dignity as he faced the other Zin daughter. "Then please excuse me Lady Melana… Lady Anaya."
Both sisters watched the young man leave silently before Anaya glared at her sister as she nursed her own injury. Melana simply quietly stared back at her impassively, though Anaya could sense the hint of accusation behind her sister's silence. She got on her feet and brushed the invisible dirt from the seat of her pants, as she muttered, "You weren't sorry at all."
"Excuse me?" Melana shot back with a raised eyebrow, finally allowing her expression to betray her annoyance.
Anaya sighed. "Why can't you learn to let your hair down once in a while?"
"Then please forgive me. Paying attention to love sick school boys is not on the top of my list of priorities at the moment," Melana countered. "Which I might add is definitely not one of your wiser impulsive decisions."
"Unlike some people, my heart is not made of stone encased in a vat of liquid nitrogen," Anaya retorted in a huff.
"And some people just never learn," Melana replied meaningfully. "Or do you get some morbid pleasure out of being betrayed?"
Anaya simply glared at her sister.
"All I am saying is that boy is just going to complicate matters," Melana shrugged.
"I'm a little surprised, sister. I thought you'd be more sympathetic knowing first hand what Hadji is going through." Anaya looked at her playfully.
"Just make sure this... complication does not… interfere." Melana looked at her levelly. "We've already wasted time enough as it is with this ridiculous side trip. If the target moves again, I'll hold you personally responsible."
Anaya glanced at her in surprise, "You mean… you actually found…"
"Not yet. But we have an idea. Unfortunately, it's a green zone. So we must tread carefully. Richmond County. Where that international private school is." Melana replied.
"I see," Anaya nodded, a smile lighting her face once again, "Don't worry, I'll handle it myself."
Melana gave her sister another meaningful look.
"Grow up, will you?" Anaya rolled her eyes in annoyance before striding away.
End of Chapter One
To be continued
Author's squawk:
And that concludes the introduction of the four main players of this story.
I thought this Act was the one that will go most untouched in this chapter… Boy, was I wrong! This one had the BIGGEST re-write! I didn't want to saturate people about Hadji's family history and turn this measly little act into a novel by itself… but here's a quick background, because I don't think I'll incorporate the stuff I will note here in later chapters or side stories anyway.
This chapter is a tribute to many things in the JQ Universe and fandom. . First of all… "Bloodlines". How I hate that episode! In this alternate universe, I still played with the "Bloodlines" idea… but instead of going for the Aladdin-esque theme for Bangalore… I opted for the real world Bangalore or "Bengaluru" as how the city is called in India. (On a side note, Kolkata is how Calcutta is called in India… but is it the same city as we know it? Who knows?). Yes… the Indian Silicon Valley and the City of Gardens is intact. And instead of a kingdom, as you may have noticed, I opted for India's Sovereign Socialist Democratic Parliamentary Republic (God, I hope I got it right!)…
Deepak and Haresh are not royalty, but I did hint that they may have descended from the ancient chieftain families of Karnataka (thus the reason why I adapted the region as their family name as how Indians of olden yore traditionally chose their last names as their village of origin).
The brothers came from a prominent family of politicians. Before Haresh died, he was one of more popular members of the Lok Sabha (the lower house of the Parliament of India… i.e. "The House of the People"… please correct me if I'm wrong, but is comparable to what the Congress is in the US and the House of Commons in Canada.). Haresh was also envisioned to have a promising future in the Rajya Sabha (the upper house, also known as the Council of States, of which the 12 members are appointed by the President of India) later in his career. Some would even say that his popularity would eventually have pushed him to Presidency. But of course, it was not to be because Haresh is one of the fatalities martyred in Geneva.
Hadji grew up in a very sheltered, full of idealistic ideas and essentially, a complete opposite of the street-smart, wise beyond his years Hadji of the real JQ timeline. Anaya and Melana have more dimensions in their personalities compared to the first run of the fic (I hope).
Since this Hadji is so different, I figured he needed a "different" name. It just feels wrong to change Hadji's personality. So this Hadji is actually named "Behkhadji". Which is also a tribute to Daria Brooks, a JQMLer very early on, who created this name for Hadji in one of her fanfics… and alongside Mama Meach, successfully opened my eyes and broadened my horizons about the beauty of CJQ. .
In this re-write… I'm kinda eyeing to see if I can use Meach's original character (Will) in the story somewhere. If Meach gives me her permission that is…
I also scrapped the use of Urdu as Hadji's language from the original story. Instead, they are speaking Kannada, which is the dialect spoken in the southern regions of Karnataka. Not that it matters since I only used 3 words. Kakka means "uncle". Daayadi means "cousin". Raja means "prince".
This is really fun! I can't believe I'm writing JQ again! .
Ja!
Ina-chan
Sept. 7, 2007
Thanks to Goddess Evie for beta-ing!
Ja!
Ina-chan
