Between my trip to Alaska to work, being incredibly sick, somehow loaded with more responsibilities than I ever thought possible... yes, I took too long to update. I apologize, dear readers, and know that I am doing my best to finish this as quick as possible. Know that at least my story ideas for this have been straightened out! Read and review below, please. Comments, criticisms, questions, curiosity... all are welcome.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Except Ani. You want her, you got to ask nicely. Very nicely.
The pounding of the technicians' feet could be heard as they reached the top of last flight of stairs and made a beeline for the door. Skee nodded to Ani, who waited to the side of the entrance. Some of the clones were with them as well, actually having found to be talented for this style of work, and this was as good of practice as any. Their enthusiasm was to be understood, too. Too much shooting and too little mental stimulation made for a stressful combination, and technicians and clones were no exception.
"As I've said before, Commander Ani (who sighed audibly; at least he was starting to leave out her last name in these less-than-formal situations), I will get everything organized and under control here. I've got everything you did on here," he pointed to the screen, then to the datapad in his hand, "and on here. I will inform the men and instruct them on what still needs to be done. You let General Unduli know what we have so far and see if you two can't figure out what happened when this place got ransacked. Also, question the staff and Lady Kiln."
"I know the drill, Skee," Ani smiled. "I still don't feel right leaving you here alone, though, to supervise on your own. This is my responsibility as well." He raised an eyebrow at her choice of words, even while knowing she probably didn't mean that to be insulting. Jedi followed a code of honor and conduct that sometimes seemed to make about as much sense as heading into a firefight without backup (something he knew the younger Jedi and certain friends of hers often did).
"Do I need to inform you how your duties differ from mine, or can we quit having this discussion now?" She sighed.
"Fine." The door opened at that moment, gear and uniformed people spilling in everywhere. "Please, men, direct your attention over here." Once they had quieted down a bit, she continued. "The decryption has been finished, and the disc is ready to be examined more thoroughly. Remember, we want as much data as possible about and off the disc within the next twenty-four standard hours, and make sure to refrain from your normal antics while here. You know who you are." She directed her gaze at the group of men (responsible for the mishap from last time) who looked down guiltily as the rest broke out into peals of laughter.
"Commander Skee will fill you in on the details, and rest assured he will do the same for my Master and I. For now, bring in and set up the equipment according to usual procedure." The words, and please don't break anything this time, hung in the air. When she turned back to face him, that look had melted into his typical reassuring look as he went to place a hand on her shoulder.
"You know I'll make sure they behave," he assured her, both trying not to wince as one guy set his gear down on the table with a planet-shattering crack. "What you know is much more important, because, as you said, the faster we get this done, the faster we get out of here." Her shoulder slid out from underneath his hand as she began to move.
"On it, Skee." She gave him a jaunty salute, turning to go through the door. "Just please keep me updated on your progress." He waved the datapad at her; it was linked to her personal one, same file on it as well, and anything he typed on his would automatically update hers in real standard time as well. Not only was it safer and more secure, but also its high frequency and encrypted signals were harder to jam than their comlinks. Some of the technological advances that came out of this bloody and tiring war were really useful.
Once she was gone, he blew out a breath. Looking at the mess of personnel and equipment around him, he sighed. This was not going to be easy or fun, but at least life expectancy here was a little more ensured than out on the front lines. Sure the tasks might be more boring, but this felt almost like leave. Almost. He took another glance around, absorbing the entire situation, before clearing his throat loud enough to gain his men's attention.
"Alright, men." he barked. "Anyone know whose bright idea is was to bring in the entire batch of transfer cables?"
Leaving him to deal with the even more boring data extraction process, Ani let out a breath once the doors closed. While her offer had been genuine, she knew exactly what had awaited her since she had gone through it more than once (that's what she got for taking all those classes at the Temple and volunteered by her master – both of them – to help out the technicians). She was happy to avoid whatever boring tasks she could. Now, if only she could avoid that ball tomorrow night…
She shook off those thoughts and made a left. Right would have brought her back to face her Master and stepmother, the latter especially she wanted to avoid right now. Left would take her through the halls of her former home, to the wing where a select group of the men would be staying in while work on the disc would continue, and then finally to the foyer where her master and stepmother awaited while settling the final details.
Since the tide of the war was turning back against the Republic, the forces that were currently circling the planet could potentially be called away if an emergency situation cropped up (and there were many of them these days). Also, since those forces were already prepared and essentially one step removed from actual combat on the front lines (two steps if you regarded their current location), they would be able to respond much faster to emergency situations that cropped up. It also had been found to help the shinies in the crews to acclimate and prepare better for actual combat sooner, lessening the wait time between training on Kamino and before the start of an actual battle, and strengthened bonds between the Jedi General and/or Commander(s), their clone commanders and the clone forces assigned to them. It had soon become standard practice the longer the war was foreseen to drag on, which quickly became welcome to all fronts of the war.
Stupid war, she grumbled to herself as she headed down the hallway towards the wing, passing by sets of sheer glass windows stretching high above and far below where the ceiling and the floor attempted to curtail any movement beyond their borders. If I could go back to Geonosis to kill Count Dooku, we'd all be spared these aggravating circumstances. Of course, I'm pretty sure every Jedi thinks this, even if they – I – won't admit it because it doesn't sound something a Jedi should be saying, but even if we tried something now against the Count, surely that would go a long way towards achieving peace. She sighed aloud, glad she alone was around to give in to that impulse. It didn't do anything, but it did feel good. I guess until we know definitively where the Count is, we can't do anything, and this Sith-spawned piece of kark will just continue going on and on until either we achieve peace or – She stopped suddenly, captivated by the intensity of color and delicate movement that took place outside the enormous window.
Ever since she could remember, her mother had been fascinated by gardens. She had spent much time with them, tending them with all the love she had. Out of all the staff that her father had to help in maintaining the place, there had only been one gardener, an old woman. Her mother would help the gardener wherever possible, sometimes doing her job for her, and she had helped out some when she got older. Her father had joked that, coming from a desert planet, her mother was obsessed with anything green and growing.
Even without the tender care of her now long-dead mother, the gardens looked to be healthy, blossoming in every imaginable kind and color under the light given by the full sun's rays. It was almost summer on Alderaan, which meant the peak of the growing season had not yet reached its zenith, but that the flowers had reached full maturation and would remain that way until the leaves fell. She took a step backward, turned back towards the set of doors that she still had to go through, and knew where she had to go.
Her steps hurried as she made her way through the doors, down the stairs, completely bypassing the other wing in her haste to make it outdoors to the gardens. She had to be there to smell, to touch, to experience one of the few living connections she had to the woman whose memory lingered on even as her attributes and characteristics slowly faded one by one into obscurity. Over the years she remembered odd things about her, like the gardening, only to have forgotten the sound of her voice, the comfort of her touch, and perhaps worst of all to her, the exact pattern of the tattoos. Tattoos set apart Mirialans; it was what made them distinct as a culture and to each other. Even being part Mirialan, she knew and respected the significance. Not knowing the exact pattern was enough to drive her crazy. However, the cultural traditions that had been observed with her parents were remembered. Another treasured memory or two, hidden in the recesses of her mind, dusted by time but clung to so they wouldn't be forgotten.
Finally, she flung open the doors that led to the garden, startling a few unsuspecting servants but not caring in the slightest. She strode to the most abundant stretch of the garden, taking in the sight, breathing in the smells, and basking in the memories that each brought back to her. She'd temporarily forgotten that since her mother had been a Jedi, the garden had been arranged so as to calm the average visitor and bring them to a tranquil state and give them inner peace. Thankfully, that had not been tampered with.
The first, most prominent flower that greeted her eyes was a brilliant red. Ladalum, Alderaan's rarest flower. Her mother had deemed that her favorite, and not just because of the color. "Like its people, this flower has symbolized peace both physically and mentally for a millennia," her mother's voice drifted back to her. "Though rare, it's beauty and unique ability serves as a reminder that peace is rare, but worth the effort. Once as a Jedi, I stood for peace. Now as an Alderaanian, I again am a champion for peace. Different paths, same goal. An honorable one."
"Miss?" A hand on her shoulder jolted her out of her reminisces, and she turned abruptly. A wizened old woman stood behind her, basket of assorted tools, seeds and plants under the other arm. "Please step back. I need to weed and prune the bushes."
"Liv? Liv Newra?" A brilliant smile stole across her face. You're still here! "You are still the official caretaker of this estate, after all these decades now." The woman nodded, a dubious look on her careworn features.
"May I ask who you are, miss?" the old lady asked politely, setting down her basket of various plants and gardening utensils. Realizing she was about to further forget her manners, Ani restrained every impulse she had at that moment to be contrary and did a formal bow.
"I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I am Jedi Padawan Ani Laminara, student to Jedi Master Luminara Unduli." She gestured towards the estate. "We have come on urgent business to meet with the lady of the house, Madam Kiln."
"Ah, yes." The old woman bowed with some difficulty. "I am honored to meet one of the honored Jedi from Coruscant. I trust Madam Kiln has already entrusted the crux of the problem to you Jedi?"
"In a manner of speaking, she has. Our duty is to remain for a day or two more to ensure no trouble before returning to aid the Republic with its current crisis." The smooth, diplomatic words flowed off her tongue with ease thanks to the practice her master gave her when in the Senate building, in the Chancellor's office, or opening channels of communication between themselves and other Jedi or high-ranking officials. As much as she despised hiding behind words, preferring the straightforward approach, she knew when it was the appropriate time and place for them. Score one for her master.
"Good, good." The old woman was squinting at her, she realized. It was an eagle-eyed stare that missed nothing, taking everything in, and it was becoming unsettling. Ani wondered if the old woman would even recognize her, after all this time. "All anyone will care to clue me in on is that the mistress of the house has been mixed up in something bad and not to talk to anyone outside of within this estate."
"Anyone? So, no one other than her knows about what she's gotten herself into?"
"Well, as far as I know, no one strange has been told. However, something strange happened. Strange people have been seen wandering on the premises, late at night. Add that to the break-in, of course not reported because Madam Kiln claimed it too insignificant to have security crawling all over the place, and it's all mysterious and dangerous." She frowned. "It's too similar to what happened before." Ani's mouth went dry.
"What do you mean?"
"Before the current mistress of the house, there was another, a foreign woman. She was much loved by the staff and the late master of the house, and she also had a child, a little girl." Ani remained stunned as the woman continued. "However, that mistress died, and that was after several intrusions and a possible intruder were spotted on the grounds days previous. Her little girl survived only to disappear a short time afterwards, with none of the staff knowing where she went. Her father had taken the now Madam Kiln as his next wife before he also died tragically, sometime around the child disappearing." She sighed heavily. "Poor woman was so distraught; she has never remarried."
"I, I'm sorry to hear that," Ani replied, swallowing hard. Just when I think I've found a way to get through all this. She has a remarkable memory. I should try to obtain records of the locations of break-ins from before. There could be a connection somewhere that none of us are seeing, but could it really be this old? And if it is, how could it be connected? Everything I've studied and experienced so far has shown me nothing is implausible. However, it is curious that this is happening again, with Marana involved both times. I shouldn't say anything until I have looked at the records and evidence, especially seeing if I can find anything going back that far.
"So are all of us who have remained here throughout all that." The woman was staring at her, she realized, and somewhat intently at that. "Are the Jedi here to make sure that nothing like that happens again?"
"You could say that, ma'am." Turning her gaze back to the flowers, a wave of sadness washed over her. Had Marana Kiln been just as much a victim of events as she had been? Could her experiencing the events as a young, grieving child have convinced her that her stepmother had been behind it all? Still, it was strange that certain patterns were resurfacing again after all these years. "I can promise we will try to make sure everyone is safe and secure."
"Alright." The old woman's continued staring was a little disorienting, but then she broke eye contact when she reached down for her basket. Picking it up, she performed another creaky bow. "I will be around if you have any more questions, Master Jedi, but I'd prefer if it were in regards to this lovely garden."
"Was this garden maintained by the former mistress of the house?" Ani asked, again ignoring the fact that she should be treading carefully. Marana obviously knows who I am, the techs have a clue, and I highly doubt that the servants here who do have a clue haven't yet spread that juicy tidbit of information yet. It will only be a matter of time before she knows. Might as well try to get as much information out as possible before that happens. Besides, it could prove useful to figuring out how the intruders were able to sneak onto the property, she reasoned.
"Oh yes. In fact, the former mistress not only maintained the gardens, but she grew their reach wherever she could, from the edges of this property to the riverbank to the edge of the forest just over there." The caretaker sighed. "A pity she died. She had a gift with the flowers and living things that I never had, nor did anyone else I know. Now that she's dead, it's like the whole garden has been in mourning for her, though it still flourishes." She gestured over the vast expanse. "As you can see, there is a wide variety of both flowers and woods here that she carefully arranged. The flowers were grouped by similar color more to the front and the woods are varied from here to the back, where the forest begins. As you can see, the ladalums, the beautiful, gorgeous red flowers, were her favorites." She looked inquisitively at the young girl. "Would you like me to take you on a tour of these gardens?"
"Perhaps later," Ani replied, smiling. "For now, I would like to just wander about and take it in, with your permission of course."
"Of course," Liv smiled. "I consider it an honor that a Jedi would want to spend time in my gardens. Please, if you have any questions, let me know." With a final bow, the old woman made surprising speed toward a patch of gingerbells not far from where the Padawan stood. Must be busy, Ani thought. Pivoting to her left, she made her way opposite from where the caretaker stood. As she made her way, she remembered an ancient song her mother had taught her. Where it had come from and what it meant, she didn't know, nor had anyone at the Temple when she asked, but her mother had loved it and sung it to her often.
"*Immen dúath caeda.
Sui tollech, tami gwannathach omen." She sang softly as she gently brushed the flowers and woods in the garden with the Force, trying to discern what was causing the disturbance she felt from them so keenly.
"Lû ah alagos gwinnatha bain.
Boe naer gwannathach, annant uich ben-estel." She straightened bent and trampled areas of the garden, calling on the Force as her mother must have done to infuse new life and hope into the plants. Her eyes narrowed when the most recent patch seemed to be linked to another one further beyond it, seeming to form like a path. Despite the innate sadness she sensed in the plants, there was a darker, more sinister twist they had carried. Perhaps this was the source of the disturbance?
"An uich gwennen na ringyrn e-mbar han.
Uich gwennen na 'wanath ah na dhín." Her feet carried her swiftly as she continued to follow what was, indeed, a path, noting at the care that had been taken to make it appear that all was well.
"Boe naid bain gwannathar,
Boe cuil ban firitha." Her last note hung forebodingly in the air before fading. The trail had taken her to the fringes of the garden, where flowers and woods met the thick leaves and branches of the untamed forest stretching far beyond forward as well as both sides. Several feet away, she noticed the small river entering into the forest at an angle from the extensive garden. Where it came from there, she had a fairly good idea, as further into the garden was the location where her mother had died.
Taking out her recording rod, she first set it to video mode, and then began to sweep it slowly across the immediate area, over the ending of the path, and then switched it to camera mode before taking close-ups of the path and the strange markings on the bark of the tree next to it. Animal impressions were out as anything wild and remotely dangerous was on a strict quarantine out to the truly wild plains and forests on Alderaan, acting as both a wildlife preserve and a safety net to the inhabitants at the same time. It could be climbing marks, or scuff marks. Too defined though. Perhaps a message?
A rustle in the leaves above startled her out of her reverie. Looking up, all she saw were leaves, and casting her senses around, she sensed something was off yet not ominous. Worth checking out more later, she thought, turning off her recording rod and replacing it on her belt. Right now, I have to get back to my master and Madame Kiln. She turned and walked back the way she came.
She missed a sudden sparkle of light reflecting from the top of the tree adjacent to the one she had studied. Two pairs of eyes watched her retreat, knowing any move they made now would ruin their boss's plan.
Luminara never had issues with knowing whom to pick on missions like these. Thankfully these missions don't happen too often, she thought, nodding to the lead tech who was supervising the transporting of equipment. She had informed him to make the load necessary yet as light as possible. The sooner they got all the information off the disk, the sooner they could get it back to the Republic. The main problem with data discs such as these, she knew, was that one file or program could mask more important files or programs, and any traps technological or otherwise could make further decryption frustrating or outright useless. Hopefully, her Padawan had made good headway, and would be arriving shortly.
Her lips tightened, hiding a smile. Provided that she doesn't get distracted first. She has talent, but her concentration needs improving. Not a surprise right now, given her past here. She nodded at the clone's remark, signaling that they were done, and he went back to barking orders and directing the men. A distinct whine indicated the gunship would be ready to leave in just a few minutes. Hopefully, this mission will be what she needs to improve it. This mission is a test for her, and for once, I don't know how to help. Perhaps… it is a test for me, too.
"Master Jedi?" She looked at Marana Kiln, who looked slightly distressed. "Are you almost done?" She quickly added, "I only ask because I don't want any more attention drawn to me, more than necessary, I mean."
"We will soon be finished," Luminara assured her with a smile. "The few have been picked, as promised, and the last of what we need for equipment is being unloaded even as we speak." She looked thoughtfully at the older woman.
Despite being a lesser known politician, Marana Kiln was well known in her own right, especially with her efforts to help the refugees that were trickling in from other worlds. There may have been a rumor or two floating around about her, but in Luminara's experience with politicians and the like, rumors only mattered if something serious and possibly dangerous came up. That something was present, and so far nothing had been presented to confirm those rumors. Her padawan was suspicious, sure, but she couldn't confirm or deny those suspicions until she herself had proof.
"Good." Marana responded with a relieved smile. "Will your padawan be joining us soon?" Her smile appeared strained, and Luminara could understand why. Her padawan had let her professionalism slip, unfortunately, and she would see to it that it would be dealt with later, in private.
So far, I haven't seen anything to indicate Marana is anything other than what she claims to be, and that will continue until something contrary does come out. My Padawan would say it takes too long; I would say I'm being cautious. She smiled inwardly. At the very least, I can do my best to pass it on to my padawan. Force knows Barriss didn't need it. Then again, until that encounter with the Geonosian worms, her life has been relatively uncomplicated, compared to my padawan. I am glad she remains in touch whenever possible. Perhaps she will be able to rub off on my padawan, whether directly or indirectly. Between the two of us, she will be able to survive and transition once this war is over.
"She will." She sensed uneasiness within the woman. "I apologize for my padawan's lack of conduct," she stated easily. "I did not anticipate her outburst."
"It is because of her past here, isn't it?" Her sharp, hazelnut eyes seemed to demand honesty. Luminara sighed and acquiesced with a, "yes."
"I do not blame her for her outburst," the woman said with a sigh. "I was young when I married her father, and there were… difficulties. At first. Then, before she was taken by the Jedi, I thought we had finally broken past that barrier. Now, over a decade later, it seems we have to go through that again." She turned to the Jedi Master. "Do you know exactly why she is cold to me?" Luminara blinked, even as a tiny surge of annoyance sprung up inside. Was she blaming the Jedi for her lost relationship? Did she even realize the necessity of training one gifted with the Force as Ani was and is?
"Honestly, no," she responded. "She never told me, but then I was hoping she would feel she could confide in me. I was wondering how the dress played into it, however." Marana gave a small smile.
"That dress bore the Mirialan design of the clan that her mother was from, that she inherited through her birthright. It is traditional that Mirialans wear it in some shape and form. Even you yourself do," she gestured towards the tabard that hung from Luminara's belts. "I'm surprised that you did not know what her clan design was, Master Jedi." Was that smugness she heard in her tone, or was she imagining things?
"I knew," Luminara replied, a little too quickly for her liking. She kept Marana's gaze. "I was waiting until she had reached the point where each Mirialan chooses their specific talent in the Force. Once she has undergone the rites, that is when each Mirialan receives their official clan design and personal crest."
"Then why the tattoos on her face?" Marana Kiln persisted. When the Jedi gave her a questioning look, she defended with, "I never knew much about Mirialans, and I do wish to know more about my stepdaughter, even though our time may be short. Like you Jedi, I wish to know about and honor all cultures." Luminara Unduli knew she couldn't deny a request like that, even if it sounded off.
"The tattoos on her face were given by her mother before she died," Luminara said. "Those tattoos signify that the mother desired her to remain in our cultural traditions, and would be given in case an untimely death occurred, which it had. The only reason the father did not give them was because he was not Mirialan. For our culture, Madame Kiln, tattoos are necessary." What she hadn't added was: If she had not been given them, in a normal situation back on our homeworld, she would have been considered an outcast unless adopted by another in our clan or given to the Jedi outright and later given the decision whether to follow our customs or not. "Once she has decided what she feels led by the Force to devote her life to, she will undergo the rites of our people, and her decision tattooed on her face and hands for all to witness."
"Ah. I see." Despite her pleasant countenance, the woman's tone sounded slightly disappointed, which was strange considering her claim to be interested in all cultures. Perhaps she had been confused.
"Was it anything I said?" Luminara asked, keeping her tone light. Marana sighed heavily; it was apparent something else was on her mind. "No, I understood everything you said," the woman replied.
"And yet…?" Luminara prompted. This got another heavy sigh.
"Let me be straight with you, Master Unduli," the woman began, looking down at her hands. "Despite my age and relative attractiveness, I have never decided to remarry after my late husband. Added to that, certain… complications set in where it remains that I can never have a child. And despite what some beings think, adoption is – and has been – an extremely complicated process." She looked up and smiled wanly, Luminara slightly shocked at how tired she looked. "Due to the customs of our people, our positions and possessions can only be handed down to the firstborn child, and if there are none, to our blood relatives. Now, I know she has a younger brother, but he was still an infant when his mother died, and he was Force-sensitive like she and so was taken as well. Out of the two of them, she knows more about living and interacting with the customs and people here than he does."
"You want her to stay and inherit your position," Luminara realized, slightly scared with that realization. Had Yoda known about this? Given how old he was and how many tricks he inevitably had up his sleeves, she wouldn't put anything past the old troll. How come this hadn't been a part of the mission briefing. Worse, what could she say to her padawan? Padawan, this mission is not just about confronting your past but also deciding between the Jedi Order and inheriting your stepmother's – formerly your late father's – position of leadership here on Alderaan. No pressure. Right. "Is there no one else you trust?"
"Everyone on my late husband's side and my side has died in years past. And given the situation now, regarding the Clone Wars and everything as a result of them, I know both those I govern and I would feel better if someone related to me, even if it was through marriage to her late father, inherited my position. Tradition means a great deal to the people here on Alderaan, as it does to your people, Master Unduli." She raised pleading eyes to the Jedi Master, who felt distinctly uncomfortable. "Do I have permission to plead my case to your padawan, so she may make her decision by considering both sides of the argument?"
No, she wanted to say. Apprenticeships cannot be broken until she has been made a Knight, and then she can decide, she desperately wanted to respond. But, as a Jedi, she served a higher calling, even when part of her wanted nothing more than to hunt it down and be considerably cruel to it.
"You may," she responded, using every ounce of self-control to sound gracious and kind and not even slightly annoyed or frustrated. The woman looked relieved.
"Thank you," she nodded deferentially to the Jedi. "I appreciate the effort, Master Jedi. More than you know. After the evening meal, I would prefer to speak to her then. Do you agree?" As Luminara nodded automatically in agreement, she noticed her apprentice round the corner from the opposite side of the estate and stride towards where Madame Kiln and she were standing. "I will have all documents and papers downloaded onto a datapad for both your padawan's and your disposal and future perusal, Master Jedi." Feeling her stomach drop, she nodded again and managed a "thank you," even while watching her padawan's every movement. Ani was apparently deep in discussion with the clone she had just been talking to – Kore, she believed he was called – and was glancing in her direction with a sheepish smile.
/We need to talk/ she sent through the bond as the small gunship took off, turning its whine into a soft, throaty roar. She saw her padawan nod, a little more relaxed now, helping Kore hustle the others inside. She had no doubt her padawan had sensed her worry, and probably was thinking it was due to her rash actions earlier, which wouldn't be completely incorrect to say but…
How, in the name of the Force, would she tell her padawan about this new development?
*Shadow lies between us
as you came, so you shall leave from us
time and storm shall scatter all things
Sorrowing you must go, and yet you are not without hope
For you are not bound to the circles of this world.
You are not bound to loss and silence.
All things must pass away,
All life is doomed to fade... (from LotR: Return of the King: Arwen's Song [Complete])