Ballad of the Winter Rose
A SW Rebels/Doctor Who Romance
Genre: Gothic romance, drama, hurt/comfort, dark fantasy, slight horror
Cast: the usual, with Tobias Menzies as Tiber Saxon, Kevin McKidd as Fenn Rau, Sharmila Devar as Countess Ursa Wren, and Ritesh Rajan as Tristan Wren
Pairings: Thrawn/Minerva, Ezra/Sabine, Kanan/Hera, mentions of Kallus/Zeb
Chapter 43: The Cybermen of Krowsnest Part 3
Chapter soundtrack: Lady Eboshi- Princess Mononoke OST, Lothlorien/I May Not Awaken- Enya
At the very sight of her daughter standing with a small army of Cybermen, Ursa bolted upright and the whole room went silent. Her two-armed guards rushed to intervene, but she raised her hand. This was not the right moment to start bloodshed. From a tactical standpoint, Countess Wren was vulnerable. Her daughter had the Darksaber pointed at her chin and Sabine's metal soldiers had not only freed the younger of the Jedi, but also the other Rebels. In between the black blade in between her eyes and the Cybermen positioning themselves as the door, refusing to let anyone enter or exit. How had the situation gone south so quickly?
Letting out a long, tired sigh, Ursa decided it was best to negotiate. At the very least, she could let Sabine know that she did love her, very much. It was just that the political situation playing lip service to Tiber Saxon and with her darling Ulrich's life hanging in the balance, she had to be pragmatic and follow Mandolorian traditions. Did Sabine not know this? Hearing that Sabine had joined the Rebels a few years back, Ursa had turned her back on Sabine, considering her weak for abandoning The Way. However, Sabine's resolve had only gotten stronger, to the point she had hidden a secret army in plain sight and was now the wielder of the only weapon legendary to unite every last Mandolorian in the known galaxy. She was a true Mando, but Ursa's proud heart was having great trouble allowing maternal instincts to kick in, and Hera Syndulla could see that quite clearly.
Ursa cleared her throat, "Sabine, please don't slay me in cold blood. Let me have my say." A Cyberman clouted her around the head, "SILENCE! YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO SPEAK TO MISTRESS THAT WAY." Wincing, but only slightly, Sabine gestured for the Cyberman to allow her mother to speak. Turning her attention to her mother, and gesturing for her reluctant Jedi boyfriend, Sabine snarled, "Speak? Speak? That's a new one! How many buttons have you sewn into the eyes of the children of your maidservants who used such a tone with you in the past? 3? 4? I was 9 years old when you threw me out- nine years old! No parents do that, much less mothers! I have a new mother, another mother who loves me for who I am. I have grown into what I have become. But you, you still here on this ice cube and everything stays the same. Imperial flags fly in the cities where the Clan Wren flag once proudly flew. You are a traitor to The Way, our clan, and to Mandolore. I should very much like to slice off your head and stick it on a wooden pole for all the other clams to see. But, since I take the higher ground, I will let you in on a secret. See that Jedi over there? He is my cy'rika. I'm dating a Jedi." She smacked her mother across her face and stepped back down, letting the older woman process what had just happened.
From up in the rafters, Fenn Rau really was not sure who he should be sympathetic towards. Certainly, it was heart wrenching to throw a nine-year-old out of the house because she did not want her weapons tested on family members, and then shuttled off to study under Orson Krennic. On the other hand, Ursa's beloved darling was held as prisoner, subject to ghastly tortures beyond imagining just to keep her in line. Krowsnest was subjected to heavy taxation and near martial law, but at least there wasn't a garrison, or a puppet backed ruler who would bombard the planet until nothing was left until it was nothing but molten slag. Ursa Wren had to tread a fine line, and while both choices were heart wrenching, Ursa's actions towards Sabine were not the greatest. Hopefully, both women would out their hubris aside and talk things out. If not to clear the air, but then to mend the bond torn by pride. He really hoped it was the latter. It would make the situation easier, and if all went well then they could possibly get Clan Wren on board with overthrowing Tiber Saxon, and getting Bo-Katan to run things, as rightful Mando'a and all of that.
Ursa nodded gravely, "Sabine, please! I'm sorry I threw you out- truly I am." Sabine turned around on the balls of her mother and gave her a look that would have frozen volcanoes. "Are you terribly sorry, or is this a half-assed attempt to get back into my good graces? I will speak to you later." She gave orders to her Cybermen to show everyone to their quarter. After this, she needed a stiff drink, a hot shower, and a long snog with Ezra.
Zeb, Chopper, Hera, and Kanan were just along for the ride. This was Sabine's mission, and figuring out how to handle what was going on was part and parcel of being in a leadership role. As her chosen family, they could offer and give support and advice, but in the end it all came down to what kind of relationship she wanted to have with her biological family. Only time would tell what would happen next.
Meanwhile back on Mandalore, Minerva was being valeted around the domed capital city, Sundari. When she had first seen the city from the Imperial shuttle bringing her there, Minerva was half expecting Aunty Entity and Master Blaster to show up on their war motorcycles with the welcoming party. As it was, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome was the only film in the titular series Margie had ever allowed her to watch. When she asked about the massive destruction, Saxon had only shrugged it off as a side effect of millennia of wars. Minerva was horrified, how could he justify that? Was it not in Mandolore's best interest to restore the land to its ancient beauty so future generations might benefit from farming and foresting responsibly?
At the very mention of this, Saxon burst out laughing. What use was arable farmland to a society of warriors and bounty hunters? Minerva countered that the Ancient Spartans of her homeworld of Earth saw value in maintaining a warrior culture and cultivating farmland. Saxon frowned, why did Lady Thrawn always seem to draw paralells between what she observed here and her woefully backwater planet she called home? Forget UNIT and the Doctor, Mandolore was at the cutting edge of everything. "Sundari is a city of the future, Lady Thrawn. Has your Grand Admiral considered our fair city as a prime candidate for your honeymoon?" Minerva responded that where she and Thrawn spent their honeymoon was none of his kriffing business, and he was not on the invite list.
Playing this off as nothing more than empty words, he arrived at the gigantic garrison that housed all of Sundari's Imperial forces and their families. The layout reminded her very much of the Tower of London, but the compound had to be three or four times taller than the Chrysler Building in America. There were green gardens and the atmosphere was serene, but it seemed to Minerva this was all at the expense of the rank and file Mandolorian citizen. She aired her concerns but was rebuffed by anyone standing nearby.
"You are a half-Gallifreyan map maker engaged to one of the highest ranked officers in the Imperial Navy, and your concerned about the common people? I thought Tarkin said you were born and raised to landed gentry," Saxon huffed sourly.
"I was, but I was also taught to have compassion and empathy for all people. All Imperial citizens should have the right to a comfortable exisitance, regardless of economic background or gender," Minerva quipped.
"Don't be so idealistic, you're not Princess Leia of Alderaan. The poor and downtrodden of the Empire are much better off than what you may hear," Saxon boasted. Minerva, of course, knew better and regularly donated to Imperial charities who were doing good work (even the Rebels said so), but they were chronically underfunded and the Imperial press rarely spoke of such things. It was no wonder then many either gave up or joined the Rebels.
Taking the elevator to reach Saxon's office, he told her, "My researchers are working on a most impressive weapon. Now, it's still in the development phase, but I am under the impression your husband will be most pleased with it."
Minerva smirked at this bold claim, Weapons don't interest Thrawn the way you think, Saxon. He may like the design and how they work, but he despises them. To him, they represent the banality of violence in war. He prefers tactics and stratagems, to him war is like chess.
Walking into a nearly empty laboratory (it was lunch time for the lab drones), he unveiled a large circular knob that resembled a giant yo-yo. Except that, it had a glowing middle ring that smelled slightly of burnt electronics. Minerva eyed the weapon suspiciously, "What is that, if you don't mind me asking."
"It would be my pleasure. What we have here is an arc pulse generator. When it is powered, it acts as an electromagnet. What would the electricity be drawn to, my lady? Why, it is drawn to the beskar in Mandolorian armor! Any citizen will be incinerated inside their armor. With this weapon, I will be, I mean the Empire will be unstoppable," Saxon gleefully pontificated.
Minerva felt like fainting and throwing up at the same time! She dreaded learning who built this mechanical nightmare. The Death Star was bad enough, but this! Holy God! "Christ Superstar, whoever built this is delusional," Minerva croaked before vomiting into a wastebasket.
"Ah ah ah, milady. We mustn't be judgmental, especially in your current condition," Saxon scolded in a sing song voice. Minerva just glared at him; she was not pregnant. Thrawn had not lain with her yet, he was waiting for the wedding night for that.
Refusing to hear her ardent pleas, Saxon locked her in a plush bedchamber and ordered stormtroopers to bring her club soda, crackers and chicken broth. He also decided to call Grand Admiral Thrawn. Locking the door to his office, Saxon activated his commlink and holo projector. Once Thrawn's face appeared, Saxon addressed him.
"Good afternoon, Grand Admiral. I regret to inform you General Hektor's morning sickness is keeping her from appreciating the job I'm doing keeping Mandolore in line," Saxon groused tersely.
Thrawn frowned, "I have not yet lain with Minerva, she is not pregnant. You've gone ahead and traumatized her by showing off the arc pulse generator. Need I remind you, Earthlings only have achieved thermonuclear weapons and space flight within the last half century. Moff Tarkin has not informed you of this?"
"Of… of course he has! Should I have told her Sabine Wren was the one who created this masterpiece at the age of 7?"
"I haven't yet, but I will in due time."
"Please do. One more thing, Saxon."
"Yes, Grand Admiral?"
"Please see to it your trousers are zipped when you holophone your superiors. One might accuse you of taking indecent liberties with cadets."
Blushing furiously, Saxon zipped up his pants, and ended the call. Not the best call, but at least his reputation was still in tact.
