The Storm

Epilogue

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away ...

Balance and peace have been restored after seemingly endless struggles against all odds.

The galaxy is now harbor for several nations and alliances, that share historical, biological and financial ties: the New Republic, the Confederate Zone, the Chiss Empire, the Star Alliance and the new Sith Empire.

Over these nations the Council of Naboo stands watch, as a common institution with one common goal: continued peace and prosperity for all. Now, five years after the founding of the Council on Naboo, the veterans of the last battles have gathered on Byss, to celebrate

a special day, and to celebrate the past, present and future together.

A new era is dawning, and it begins with a story ....

*******

The boy was so nervous that he felt sick to his stomach, but he resolved not to let that show. Dressed in brown pants he absent-mindedly wriggled his toes in the cold mud underneath the soles of his bare feet, as if the rich soil could somehow ease his anxiety. In a way, it even did. His mother had told him that this was his gift, that he could become one with his surroundings, the people and plants. That he was special. He stood stock-still, eyes fixed straight ahead, to where the elders were standing in a neat row, all facing him.

His black hair was long and worn in two braids, as befitted a boy of his age, but his entire demeanor was more that of an adult than a child of five.

*******

"Mama, he can't have braids! Girls have braids!"

"Sh, just listen, baby. It's a tale, okay?"

"Okay."

*******

Pale green eyes gazed at the cloud-shrouded mountains up ahead with a mild curiosity that belied the nervousness he felt inside. It was a grey day, and cold. But he ignored his discomfort, concentrating on the ceremony ahead instead. Then a movement off to the left caught his attention, and he gazed over at the tall woman, who strode over to the elders with determined strides. He wanted to smile at her, but knew he would not. She was Cor'dan, and to be respected.

His heart stung a little bit as he remembered the night before, when she had told him about his naming day. It did not happen often that she allowed him to be close, and when she did, it was always a very special occasion. Like yesterday. They had sat together, wrapped in a fine woolen blanket, and his mother had made him look into the flames of the open hearth while she spoke, creating a world of magic with only the sound of her voice and her presence. The small hut had been filled with live shadows, and he had been just a little bit frightened. But just a bit. Then he had been curious, wondering what his new name would be.

The Naming Ceremony marked him an adult, and it meant that he would be given greater responsibilities and that his studies would be intensified. Given what hopes his mother and the elders set in him, that meant hard work. But he was used to hardship. The mountains and swamps of Os'jen'thana were untamed, and his people had always respected that wilderness. They did not seek to change one single thing, they rather worked around what obstacles presented themselves or else adapted to their surroundings. From time to time off-worlders would come to hunt in the plains, but they never bothered the Jen-People. And the Jen themselves kept a safe distance.

"Liyuma!" a voice called to him softly, and he turned his head tentatively to face the owner of that voice. He smiled up at his father as he came over to him. "Feeling okay, son?" Roughing up Liyuma's thick hair, his father laughed when the boy glared up at him angrily. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, heavier set than the other men, but then, his father was an off-worlder from the distant planet Alderaan. He had dark brown hair, cut traditionally short, and green eyes that always seemed a bit distant, almost sad. "Don't let all that ceremonial pomp get you down," his father continued. "It's only a name, after all."

"You should not call me that," the boy whispered fiercely.

"What?" Father cocked his eyebrows. "Are you not my son?"

"No, the – other." Today he had no name, until he got his new one. He gave the older man a pleading glare, silently begging him not to spoil the ceremony by breaking custom. His father loved to break traditions, especially since they were not his own. As a result the elders did not like him very much for that.

Father dropped down on his haunches next to him. "Nervous?" The boy nodded hesitantly. "I understand. But it'll pass, you'll see." Liyuma gave him a tiny smile. He liked his father very much, no matter what the elders thought. "Now, be a big boy and go over there. I think they're getting impatient," Father added with a wink, then rose again to withdraw to the circle of people that surrounded the boy, who stood alone in its midst, facing the elders and the Cor'dan.

The boy swallowed down a lump of fear, waiting to be called forward. When the signal came, a mere nod given by the leader of the elders, the thick clouds overhead started pouring hard rain down upon the assembly. Closing his eyes in shame for a moment, Liyuma trotted over to come to a halt in front of the elders. Cold water ran through his hair, clung to his lashes. He shivered. Then a calloused hand slipped underneath his chin, raising it up, so he was forced to look at the elders. He risked a glance over at the Cor'dan, but her pale eyes were cold and distant. Like Father's. Liyuma's heart sank a little further.

"We have assembled today to bring a new spirit into this world," the elder began, his old voice cracking. "Who will speak for the nameless?"

"I will!" It was his father, of course, who splashed through the cold, wet mud to join the boy in front of the elders. "I am his spirit-guide." Laying reassuring hands on the boy's shoulders, he stood very still, waiting for the elder to continue.

"The elders recognize the spirit-guide. But we must verify his intentions." He took a step back to make room for the Cor'dan.

The boy knew what this part of the ceremony entailed, and he tensed in anticipation. To make certain that the spirit admitted into the world was not a bad one, the elders had to find out whether the intentions of the spirit's guide were good. The Cor'dan, her long, black hair hanging in a thick, wet curtain over her slender shoulders, lay a hand over Father's face. The boy could feel the energy tingling through the older man's body, could feel it reach for him too, and for a moment he wanted to cry out, because it was so painful, as if a part of his soul had been ripped away. Then the sensation vanished abruptly, and the boy took a deep breath.

"The spirits recognize this one," the Cor'dan declared, "and mark him their own. He is allowed to proceed."

The elders nodded, and one of them produced a small cloak. The leather had been cut very thin, so it was not heavy when Father lay it around the boy's shoulders, and it gave a little protection against the rain. Then another elder made the sign of acquiesance over the boy's head and gave him into the Cor'dan's custody, along with his guide.

The three of them turned away from the village, toward the edge of the forest, where a small hut had been prepared for the occasion. Slipping inside after the Cor'dan, the boy almost smiled at the warmth that greeted him inside the small dwelling. A fire was burning in its middle, and sweet smoke filled the air, making him drowsy. It was so comfortable that he wanted to go to sleep right away. A rare smile appeared on the Cor'dan's face as she picked up on his thoughts, and he blushed furiously. He sat down hurriedly on his assigned place, opposite from her, and looked at her across the fire. She was very beautiful, he thought, and she looked very regal too. But her expression turned earnest again very quickly.

"I can see you," she declared solemnly. "And the path you will take." A pained look crossed her eyes, frightening him a little bit. She continued, her voice softer. "You will be named for the past and the future. For what you are and will be. Now, repeat what I say." She waited for him to give a nod, then proceeded. "Life is balance, and balance is death." Mumbling the words after her, he felt very clumsy all of a sudden, and he concentrated hard not to forget a single word. "Life and death are sheltered in earth and sky, light and dark. Earth shelters the Jen-People, sky shelters the spirits. Both become one in light and dark. Life is the realm of the Jen-People, death is the realm of the spirits. In light and dark they become one. Light and dark, life and death, earth and sky will become one in my heart, as I become one with the Jen-People."

He repeated the words quietly, hanging on to her lips in fascination, and he thought he could feel something then, as if he could feel the earth and the sky in the shadows writhing across the walls of the tiny hut. When the Cor'dan spoke again her voice was different, coming at him from all sides at once. Hunching his shoulders, he did not dare look at her. "You are named for what was, and named for what will be. Always be true to your name. Always."

*******

"And that's the end."

The little girl looked up at her mother with huge eyes. "So, what's his name?" she asked petulantly, feeling somehow deceived.

Smiling down at her, Mama pressed a kiss on her forehead and shut down the holocube she had been reading from. "Tomorrow," she said.

"Mama!" the girl began, but her protests were buried in a hug.

"Tomorrow, my little morning star. It's your naming day."

*******

"Jolene!" The girl's head whipped around at the sound of her father's voice. A smile appeared on her round face as he came around the corner, searching. "There you are." Dropping to his knees in front of her, he hugged her carefully, so as not to disturb the exquisitely starched folds of her white dress. "We are all waiting for you, darling." His grey eyes held a warm fire that made Jolene's smile even fiercer. "You look so pretty today," he added and kissed her cheek.

"As pretty as Mama?" she asked sincerely, and he laughed.

"Close, my little star. Close. Come. Let's not keep them waiting any longer."

Jolene grabbed the offered hand and let her father lead the way. She thought he looked grand in his black uniform with the purple stripes at the cuffs. She liked the way he walked, slow and measured, and the way his eyes studied everything with utmost attention. Pride filled her small heart to bursting, because her father was someone very special and people were always very nice around him. They were not so nice around Mama, but Mama always acted very cool when she was not with her little daughter. And Jolene was not allowed to run over and hug her when other people were with her either. It made Jolene sad, sometimes, because she liked to hug her mother very much.

"Wanna be carried!" she said suddenly, tugging at her father's hand impatiently to emphasize her demand.

He stopped and gazed down at her earnestly. "Jolene, don't be a baby. It is your naming day, after all. You are a big girl now."

A frown appeared on her innocent forehead. She did not want to be a big girl. She was afraid that being a big girl meant that Mama would not want to be hugged by her at all. Directing a concerned glance up at Papa she shuffled closer to him and hugged his legs. "Don't wanna," she whispered.

He ran a hand over her blonde curls gently, then bent down to pick her up and hold her in his arms. "Listen, little one, you do not have to be afraid. Nothing there will scare you, and you know everyone who's there."

"Hm-hm," she nodded, not really buying it, and started tracing the scars on his face with a pudgy finger.

"You do believe me, don't you, darling?"

Jolene gave Papa a helpless smile. "Yes, Papa," she breathed.

"Okay. Think you can make it to the hall on your own?"

Again a nod and she was put down on the floor again. Trotting after her father, Jolene made faces at his back. She did not like it at all. But then they were already there and the big doors to the big hall opened all by themselves. Papa went ahead without making sure she was following, and Jolene slipped behind one of the doors, hiding.

She was giggling with mischief when Papa theatrically exclaimed: "Oh no! My little star is gone!"

There was laughter from the hall, and a man said: "I'm sure we'll find her soon enough, Franzis."

Closing her eyes, Jolene giggled even harder, when she heard someone walk toward the doors, and then a shadow blotted out the light.

"Look what we have here," the man said, laughter in his voice, and Jolene rolled her eyes at him as he sat there on his haunches, grinning at her.

"How'd you find me?" she asked, when he extended his arms and she darted into his embrace, letting him carry her into the hall.

He dubbed her nose and raised his eyebrows funnily. "That's a secret," he told her. He had blue eyes like Mama, and no hair on his head, and scars like Papa, but he was much taller than Papa, and people always treated him very nicely. He was Cor'dan, after all. "Look, there's you mother."

Squirming in his grasp Jolene fought to get down on the floor. She ran toward Mama, squealing, little arms spread out in what she thought would be the biggest hug ever. Mama looked so pretty, in her black dress and with the sparkling stars in her golden hair. Her blue eyes were sparkling too as she looked down at Jolene. But she did not bend down to embrace her, like Papa had. So Jolene buried her face in the thick velvet skirts of Mama's dress and held on fiercely, small hands tightened into fists.

"Won't you say hello to our guests?" Mama asked in her official voice, that was warm, kinda, but also distant. Looking up at her, Jolene pouted, then shook her head. "Darling, be a big girl," Mama said.

"No!" Jolene stuck her tongue out and ran away. But someone snatched her up and started tickling her mercilessly. Jolene screamed: "No-no-no-no-no!"

"Say hello," her captor teased her. "Say hello, or I'll tickle you 'til you burst!"

"Hello, Uncle Jix!" Jolene crowed, delighted. He whirled her through the air and caught her again, then pointed her face-first at the red-haired woman, who wore a huge laugh on her face.

"Say hello to Aunt Mara, Jolene," he ordered, but the little girl shook her head in denial, and continued squealing harder.

"Stop this, Jolene, or you'll hurt yourself," Mama said mildly, and Jix put her down instantly. Suddenly sober again, Jolene gave her mother an accusing glare, then stalked off toward the table by the window and scrambled up a chair to sit down. While the grown-ups talked, she was humming to herself idly and looked out of the window, kicking her legs.

"Are we all there?" Mama asked suddenly, sounding weary. "Good. Jolene!" she called, and the girl turned her head to look at her. "Come. The others are waiting."

Hopping off her perch, Jolene ran for the big doors, and side-stepped Mama when she tried to grab her hand. Instead Jolene caught up with Papa and held his hand. Papa looked at her, then back at Mama, and shrugged. Then they went into the other hall with the throne – the throne-room – and Papa made her wait a bit, while Mama went ahead to take a seat on the big black chair. Jolene made another face. There were many people assembled in the hall, and she knew most of them. She shied away a bit as Papa led her past Administrator Elu Cha and his entourage, frightened a bit by the Yuuzhan Vong's fierce expression. But luckily they were past quickly, and she exhaled softly, a smile already creeping back on her face.

There was Chi'in, who was always so earnest, and Andarack, who never said anything at all. Jolene thought they looked very funny. Next to them stood Naas Deron, who winked at her. Jolene giggled at that. Then there were Uncle Luke and Nuron, who did not want to be an aunt. Nuron's eyes were golden and she had the most beautiful skin color, like cinnamon. And horns. Jolene wanted to have horns like that too, but Mama said that was not possible. Jolene thought that was unfair. But then she saw Aunt Leia, and Jacey and Jaina were with her! Jolene wanted to make a dash for the twins, who waved at her, both beaming, but Papa did not let her. He held on tightly.

"Jolene, behave yourself," he whispered. "Mama will be very proud if you are a good girl today."

Glumly, Jolene gave a nod. Suddenly there was a rustle by her side and Padmé knelt down next to her, dressed in a pretty lilac dress. Padmé was Leia's mama and very pretty. She had once been a queen. Mama was an empress, which was higher than a queen, But Padmé was nice, nicer than Mama!

"Hey, little one. Don't make such a fierce face. You look like a Hutt," Padmé said softly. "Here. I have brought something for the pretty little star." Holding up her hand she let a small gold chain dangle between her fingers, with a yellow stone hanging from it.

"Oh!" Jolene grabbed at the stone, and Padmé laughed.

"Here, let me," she murmured, and nestled the chain into the girl's curls, so that the stone lay cool against her forehead. "Now you look like a little princess. Very pretty."

"Thank you!" Jolene breathed, raising her hand to finger the stone. "Thank you!"

Suddenly everyone was very silent, and Padmé stood up again. Peeking around the former queen's lilac skirts, Jolene stared wide-eyed at the big door that was opening as she watched. Everyone was looking at the door! Her eyes widened even more when the Cor'dan stepped into the room, now wearing long black robes, and holding a long staff in his hand, that was carved with many strange symbols. He did not laugh when he looked at Jolene this time, and his scars suddenly looked very menacing, not like Papa at all. When he walked past her, Jolene pressed her back against Papa's legs for support. But then the Cor'dan winked at her, and she gave a little giggle that turned into a hiccup. Embarrassed, she turned away, clapping a hand over her mouth, and gave Papa a startled look, but he only smiled at her.

Then someone stubbed the small of her back and said: "Boo!"

Jolene yelped in surprise, then darted around Papa's legs to glare at Uncle Jix from a safe distance. The Corellian was grinning hard.

"Easily scared, that little toad. Gotta improve your reflexes too," he declared. Jolene stuck her tongue out at him.

"Come, Jolene," Papa said. "It is time."

Suddenly Jolene felt like the little boy in the story, Liyuma, and she dragged her feet when Papa gently maneuvered her toward the throne, where Mama sat. She felt very sick. But then Mama smiled at her, a bright smile, and Jolene knew that Mama loved her very much. Now her father almost had to restrain her so she would not run ahead. Finally falling in step with him, Jolene felt grand, as she walked down the aisle toward the throne. Everyone was smiling at her, and she could feel that everyone was happy. Jacey and Jaina waved at her as she passed, and it was all she could do not to run over and hug her friends for the sheer joy of it. She caught Nuron's glance, and the tall woman's smile made her proud. Holding her head high, she walked at her father's side up to where the Cor'dan was standing at the stairs that led up to the throne.

"We have assembled today to welcome a new spirit into this world," he said, and smiled, as if remembering something, and Jolene wondered whether Mama had told him the story too. "Who will speak for her?"

"I will," Papa declared and squeezed Jolene's shoulders reassuringly. She pressed her back against his legs, the way she loved to do, and gazed up at the Cor'dan with wonder.

"We recognize you, and we accept your charge," the Cor'dan said calmly. Jolene frowned. That was different from the story. But then he turned cool blue eyes on her, and she tried to withdraw further. "I can see you," he said, "and the path you will take. You will be named for the past and the future. For what you are and will be. Now, repeat what I say." He smiled down at Jolene and she nodded hurriedly. She knew the words already, but still she frowned fiercely, concentrating. "Life is balance, and balance is death. Life and death are sheltered in earth and sky, light and dark. Earth shelters the living, sky shelters the spirits. Both become one in light and dark. Life is the realm of the living, death is the realm of the spirits. In light and dark they become one. Light and dark, life and death, earth and sky will become one in my heart, as I become one with the living."

Once she had also finished, he put a hand on her head lightly, and Jolene closed her eyes, hardly able to breathe with excitement. Now she would get her new name!

"You are named for the past, for the light you have brought into your parents' lives. And you are named for the future for the guiding light you will be to those who will follow behind."

Looking down at her, he smiled mischievously, while she was practically hopping from one foot to the other with impatience.

"Luzaya Dan, " he breathed, "this is the name that you will carry for the rest of your life. Be true to it. You are welcome to the world of the living." He bowed toward her regally.

"Pretty," she whispered under her breath, eyes wide with wonder, then hurriedly bowed too.

Then Mama rose from her throne and gave her a proud smile. "You are welcome, Luzaya Dan, and forever part of our community. We will shelter you, protect you and guide you, until you find your calling in becoming one with what you were named for, life and darkness. In time, we will teach you about both," she concluded and some people in the crowd laughed softly. Luzaya did not mind at all. She felt very proud. "And now," Mama said at last, "we shall celebrate."

The formal part of the naming over, Luzaya could not wait for Mama to leave the dais and join her and Papa. When she did, she knelt down immediately in front of her daughter, the skirt of her black dress enfolding Luzaya whole, and hugged her tight. "Such a beautiful name," she whispered and kissed the girl's cheek. "A spark of life in the dark, that you truly were," she added and looked up to gaze at Papa lovingly. Luzaya watched them both intently, then snuggled into Mama's embrace, demanding her full attention. "And you were such a good girl too," Mama said. "I am very proud of you, my little morning star."

"Can I have the end of the story?" Luzaya asked into her mother's dress, barely audible.

"Of course." Mama nodded. "Liyuma was named for enduring wisdom, and he made his parents very proud."

"So he lived long and happily?" the little girl pressed on, knowing that no story could end without that tell-tale phrase. It always prompted her to imagine the greatest adventures for the heroes. But Mama did not answer for a while. When she did, she smiled down at Luzaya and laughed.

"Yes, my darling. He had a long life, a very long life, and I am sure he was happy too. At least I hope he was," she added very softly. Then she straightened from her crouch, carrying Luzaya in her arms. "Let's go. The others have all gone ahead."

As she was carried away, Luzaya was smiling absent-mindedly. In front of her inner eye her imagination spun a grand tale of a wise little boy – with black hair that he wore in funny braids, and green eyes that sparkled when he laughed – who vanquished many a foe and made his parents very proud. Just as she would.

The End