Summary: What do you get when you combine a Tatooinian senator who's an expert politician though no one's ever heard of her, an unbelievable
nightmare which comes true, and a secretary who's met Vergere "Many times"? (Won't show up for awhile, & won't be clearly explained
for longer.)
Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? We all know who Star Wars belongs to. (Note: Several "original" characters aren't so original, after all. That's the only hint I'll give.)
Author's Note:
I have some weird ideas, I know. Yet another example of my taking hints and running with them. (If you don't get who the people are in part 1 of the prologue, you can see the version adapted for "While Darkness Fell")
Warning: This is restart 14 of this story, and I expect I'll restart it another 14 times before it's done, so its content can change immensely w/out warning.
I'm not going to tell you my background logic for this one until someone figures out what is going on.
The Prologue is darker than much of the story, and won't be explained for a long while. It's meant more as a blaring hint when the Skywalkers and Solos have some odd experiences.
Enjoy! :)
"…We are a republic, Senators. We may be at war, but that does not mean our government must change so we can handle it!
"Chancellor Palpatine has led us well, I readily admit. But in reacting to this war, we have given him no less power than a dictator. Is that a republic, Senators? Rule by one man's decree?
"I therefore conclude that though Palpatine has offered us excellent guidance in trying times, the illegality of his power calls for another strong leader to step up—"
"And who will this 'strong leader' be?" Malastair's Senator interrupted. "You?"
"If nominated for the position I would not refuse," the Human woman firmly replied, her dark shining hair and eyes making her fair skin all the more attractive. "But I do not aim for it."
She seemed to falter slightly, then drew herself up as she finished her speech. "I call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Palpatine's leadership."
Her red senatorial robes removed, the svelte woman had changed into a gossamer white gown, her glistening dark tresses cascading down her back, her piercing dark gaze adding to her perfect skin.
She stood in the shadows, near the door. A tall young man stood at the window, his back to her. His blond hair was cut short but for a single thin braid trailing one shoulder; his nondescript tan tunic and trousers labeled him as a Jedi, his braid identifying him as a Padawan, a Jedi Apprentice.
He stood, muscles taut, facing the fading sunlight.
"Your friend is still in office."
"Good." The Padawan's voice was cold.
The woman looked down sadly, one hand's fingers gently running over her stomach. "We can't keep it secret, anymore," she said softly.
The Padawan didn't move. "Why not?"
The Senator stepped forward delicately, seeking his face. "I'm—" The look in his eyes made her stop.
"What?" he asked, moving towards her.
Her silence angered him. "I asked you a question!" he snarled.
She shook her head, her sorrowful eyes staying on his as she retreated. "Nothing."
He caught her arm, blue eyes burning gray with fury. "What?" he demanded.
The woman swallowed. "Nothing. I made a mistake."
The Padawan's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "A mistake? Mistook me for someone else, maybe?"
She stared at him, uncomprehending. "What do you mean?"
He glared down at her, millimeters away. The Padawan's voice trembled with anger. "You're mine. No one else's. Mine."
She closed her eyes, not letting the tears fall. "How can you think otherwise of me, Anakin?" she whispered.
She never saw his fist.
"Senator?" a man's voice called. "Senator Naberrie?"
The door squealed as its locking mechanism was overrode by an outside influence.
"Oh Force!"
The man, dressed in a nondescript tan tunic and a brown cloak, knelt, his fingers lifting a strip of torn, bloodied fabric. His blue eyes took in the scene; the overturned end table, the few bloodstains, and this single shred of fabric.
Two hooded females followed, dressed the same as he. "Obi…" The leader's voice trailed off, and the Jedi knew his colleague had come to the same conclusion he had.
"An attack," the other said softly, horror in her voice.
His eyes closed, the Jedi didn't answer. Opening his eyes abruptly, he swayed on his feet, nodding towards a closet. He swallowed, as if in pain. "There. She's…"
Without waiting for the security to act, the woman in front turned to the other. "Barriss."
Barriss leapt lightly to that side of the room. "It's locked." Her lightsaber was drawn and ignited before she'd even finished her statement, cutting into the door.
She turned slowly, the battered senator gathered in her arms.
The man's eyes were closed once more as he tested the Senator's Force-energy. "Oh, no…"
Without waiting for an order, Barriss lay the woman on the couch, kneeling beside it.
"She's stable, Masters." The tone had a hint of surprise, for at the first glance Naberrie seemed to be fading. But whenever her Force-energy got in the danger zone, it flickered, strengthening just enough to hang on, without losing energy.
Barriss shot a glance around the room. "Want me to see if I can find who did it?"
The man winced.
"Obi-Wan." He met his friend's cobalt blue gaze. "We don't have much choice."
Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed. "You'll be the one who gets her tongue-lashing, Luminara."
At Jedi Luminara Unduli's nod, her young Padawan tentatively raised her hand to the Naboo Senator's face. She'd heard stories from her friend, Anakin Skywalker, and knew the woman was extremely strong-minded, if not stubborn. She hoped Padmé Amidala wouldn't mind the prying too much…
Very well.
Barriss started, taken off guard as much by the Senator's sturdy mental shielding as by the telepathic message. Not only did she not know the woman well—Senator Naberrie wasn't even Force-sensitive!
I'll show you.
She barely had time to wonder at the bitter tone before memory flooded her mind.
Jedi Padawan Barriss Offee screamed.
Rank pits filled with sacrifices' ashes lay below their feet; the skin, bones, and blood of those offered poured into separate cesspools…
"The gods have smiled upon your plan, Olog Gaar." The cloaked figure strolled calmly beside the scarred Yuuzhan Vong warrior. "The new voxyn is near completion."
A sneer crossed Olog's features as he glared at the woman. Occasionally he could glimpse the deep eyes looking up at him from within the cloak; keen eyes, belying their owner's soft voice.
"Completely?" he growled, making sure the wording hid no tricks.
He caught a glimpse of the sour smile beneath her hood. "I said it was nearing completion, did I not?"
Olog nearly hesitated, recognizing her tone. This Shaper was a dangerous one. Her devotion to the gods was unquestioned; rumor had it that she'd killed her old Master Shaper for forsaking them, rising to the honorable position in the old man's place.
"Forgive me, Tayun Kwaad." He inclined his head in her direction. "I am too used to the implied being a lie."
Her head slightly bowed, all Olog could see were the woman's lips, curled into a sneer. "Perhaps your ranks require a cleansing. A practical test for the new voxyn."
Olog Gaar hid his surprise. Indeed, he had been thinking the same thing, but had believed such a suggestion would be offensive to the Shaper. She was shrewder than he'd realized. The ranks' situation was the concern of the leaders and priests, not shapers. That she bothered herself with it at all was a unique exception.
"Perhaps," he said finally. "If you believe it would work."
"Should it not?"
His face rippled at the challenge in her tone. He'd always found her behavior more befitting a warrior than a shaper. "Only leaving room for error, Tayun."
Olog caught himself, quickly adding "Kwaad."
The cloaked figure stopped, and he could feel her sharp gaze piercing his back. He turned to look at her.
Her brown eyes blazed with a fire much like that of a warrior. "My predecessor accepted such insults. I do not. Remember that."
Olog Gaar hid his trembling as she strode away. She was a Shaper, forbidden territory, but—
How he wished she was a warrior!
Secure, determined footsteps came down the hall, pausing in front of the creature-door…
Inside, a relatively unmarked male shaper worked diligently at his station, so much so that he did not glance up as his mistress entered. The 'door' opened, admitting his mistress.
"Report?" Her voice, though quietly strong with others, did not hide its command from its subordinates.
Only then did the male stop in his duties and turn to bow low to his cloaked mistress, the youngest Shaper ever made a Master. "I have made minimal progress, Honored One."
"Minimal?" she hissed, the question indisputably a command for a definition.
He bowed again, offering a sharp nod towards the object of his study. "The abomination defies all attempts at logic, Honored One. I cannot comprehend it."
The male shaper felt his mistress's eyes leave him to glance at the lightsaber. "Comprehend? Who asked you to comprehend it, Kotah?" she spoke softly, but power backed her words.
He bowed. "Belek tu, Honored One. I have misunderstood my assignment. My life as payment." He dropped to her knees before her in the motion common to the warrior caste and alien to the shaper, before they found Tayun Kwaad.
Palm up, her creature-hand stopped with the forefinger a millimeter from his throat. A wry smile lay on her lips as she drew that hand into a fist. "No," she replied. "You have seen your failing and take responsibility for it. The gods will have me grant you another opportunity, so you may use what you have learned."
Her head cocked to the side as she circled him. "Your assignment," she stressed, "is to collect the data from this—abomination." Her lips curled into a snarl as she spoke that word, then shifted into a wry smile. "I will analyze. The time draws near—work quickly!"
Returning to his feet, her subordinate bowed humbly. "If any can unravel this mystery, it is you, Honored One."
With a sharp nod, she left swiftly—then stopped, her hooded head turned towards him. "You doubt my wisdom."
The male tensed slightly. "I merely ponder why we need study this abomination, Honored One."
A sneer appeared on her pale, almost pink lips as she nodded slowly. "A lesson in Jeedai, Kotah. They can choose not to use their Force. Such was the first queen voxyn's failing. She could not know the Jeedai were near because they chose not to reveal themselves!"
The sneer took a pleased cast. "But a lightsaber, Kotah. A lightsaber no Jeedai would choose to leave behind.
"And the voxyn who can track this weapon," she finished quietly, "can find all Jeedai."
Author's Note:
What do you think? I'll only continue it if asked.
Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? We all know who Star Wars belongs to. (Note: Several "original" characters aren't so original, after all. That's the only hint I'll give.)
Author's Note:
I have some weird ideas, I know. Yet another example of my taking hints and running with them. (If you don't get who the people are in part 1 of the prologue, you can see the version adapted for "While Darkness Fell")
Warning: This is restart 14 of this story, and I expect I'll restart it another 14 times before it's done, so its content can change immensely w/out warning.
I'm not going to tell you my background logic for this one until someone figures out what is going on.
The Prologue is darker than much of the story, and won't be explained for a long while. It's meant more as a blaring hint when the Skywalkers and Solos have some odd experiences.
Enjoy! :)
PROLOGUE
Part I: SENATOR
20.5 years before A New Hope
20.5 years before A New Hope
"…We are a republic, Senators. We may be at war, but that does not mean our government must change so we can handle it!
"Chancellor Palpatine has led us well, I readily admit. But in reacting to this war, we have given him no less power than a dictator. Is that a republic, Senators? Rule by one man's decree?
"I therefore conclude that though Palpatine has offered us excellent guidance in trying times, the illegality of his power calls for another strong leader to step up—"
"And who will this 'strong leader' be?" Malastair's Senator interrupted. "You?"
"If nominated for the position I would not refuse," the Human woman firmly replied, her dark shining hair and eyes making her fair skin all the more attractive. "But I do not aim for it."
She seemed to falter slightly, then drew herself up as she finished her speech. "I call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Palpatine's leadership."
Her red senatorial robes removed, the svelte woman had changed into a gossamer white gown, her glistening dark tresses cascading down her back, her piercing dark gaze adding to her perfect skin.
She stood in the shadows, near the door. A tall young man stood at the window, his back to her. His blond hair was cut short but for a single thin braid trailing one shoulder; his nondescript tan tunic and trousers labeled him as a Jedi, his braid identifying him as a Padawan, a Jedi Apprentice.
He stood, muscles taut, facing the fading sunlight.
"Your friend is still in office."
"Good." The Padawan's voice was cold.
The woman looked down sadly, one hand's fingers gently running over her stomach. "We can't keep it secret, anymore," she said softly.
The Padawan didn't move. "Why not?"
The Senator stepped forward delicately, seeking his face. "I'm—" The look in his eyes made her stop.
"What?" he asked, moving towards her.
Her silence angered him. "I asked you a question!" he snarled.
She shook her head, her sorrowful eyes staying on his as she retreated. "Nothing."
He caught her arm, blue eyes burning gray with fury. "What?" he demanded.
The woman swallowed. "Nothing. I made a mistake."
The Padawan's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "A mistake? Mistook me for someone else, maybe?"
She stared at him, uncomprehending. "What do you mean?"
He glared down at her, millimeters away. The Padawan's voice trembled with anger. "You're mine. No one else's. Mine."
She closed her eyes, not letting the tears fall. "How can you think otherwise of me, Anakin?" she whispered.
She never saw his fist.
"Senator?" a man's voice called. "Senator Naberrie?"
The door squealed as its locking mechanism was overrode by an outside influence.
"Oh Force!"
The man, dressed in a nondescript tan tunic and a brown cloak, knelt, his fingers lifting a strip of torn, bloodied fabric. His blue eyes took in the scene; the overturned end table, the few bloodstains, and this single shred of fabric.
Two hooded females followed, dressed the same as he. "Obi…" The leader's voice trailed off, and the Jedi knew his colleague had come to the same conclusion he had.
"An attack," the other said softly, horror in her voice.
His eyes closed, the Jedi didn't answer. Opening his eyes abruptly, he swayed on his feet, nodding towards a closet. He swallowed, as if in pain. "There. She's…"
Without waiting for the security to act, the woman in front turned to the other. "Barriss."
Barriss leapt lightly to that side of the room. "It's locked." Her lightsaber was drawn and ignited before she'd even finished her statement, cutting into the door.
She turned slowly, the battered senator gathered in her arms.
The man's eyes were closed once more as he tested the Senator's Force-energy. "Oh, no…"
Without waiting for an order, Barriss lay the woman on the couch, kneeling beside it.
"She's stable, Masters." The tone had a hint of surprise, for at the first glance Naberrie seemed to be fading. But whenever her Force-energy got in the danger zone, it flickered, strengthening just enough to hang on, without losing energy.
Barriss shot a glance around the room. "Want me to see if I can find who did it?"
The man winced.
"Obi-Wan." He met his friend's cobalt blue gaze. "We don't have much choice."
Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed. "You'll be the one who gets her tongue-lashing, Luminara."
At Jedi Luminara Unduli's nod, her young Padawan tentatively raised her hand to the Naboo Senator's face. She'd heard stories from her friend, Anakin Skywalker, and knew the woman was extremely strong-minded, if not stubborn. She hoped Padmé Amidala wouldn't mind the prying too much…
Very well.
Barriss started, taken off guard as much by the Senator's sturdy mental shielding as by the telepathic message. Not only did she not know the woman well—Senator Naberrie wasn't even Force-sensitive!
I'll show you.
She barely had time to wonder at the bitter tone before memory flooded her mind.
Jedi Padawan Barriss Offee screamed.
Part II: SHAPER
29.5 years after A New Hope
29.5 years after A New Hope
Rank pits filled with sacrifices' ashes lay below their feet; the skin, bones, and blood of those offered poured into separate cesspools…
"The gods have smiled upon your plan, Olog Gaar." The cloaked figure strolled calmly beside the scarred Yuuzhan Vong warrior. "The new voxyn is near completion."
A sneer crossed Olog's features as he glared at the woman. Occasionally he could glimpse the deep eyes looking up at him from within the cloak; keen eyes, belying their owner's soft voice.
"Completely?" he growled, making sure the wording hid no tricks.
He caught a glimpse of the sour smile beneath her hood. "I said it was nearing completion, did I not?"
Olog nearly hesitated, recognizing her tone. This Shaper was a dangerous one. Her devotion to the gods was unquestioned; rumor had it that she'd killed her old Master Shaper for forsaking them, rising to the honorable position in the old man's place.
"Forgive me, Tayun Kwaad." He inclined his head in her direction. "I am too used to the implied being a lie."
Her head slightly bowed, all Olog could see were the woman's lips, curled into a sneer. "Perhaps your ranks require a cleansing. A practical test for the new voxyn."
Olog Gaar hid his surprise. Indeed, he had been thinking the same thing, but had believed such a suggestion would be offensive to the Shaper. She was shrewder than he'd realized. The ranks' situation was the concern of the leaders and priests, not shapers. That she bothered herself with it at all was a unique exception.
"Perhaps," he said finally. "If you believe it would work."
"Should it not?"
His face rippled at the challenge in her tone. He'd always found her behavior more befitting a warrior than a shaper. "Only leaving room for error, Tayun."
Olog caught himself, quickly adding "Kwaad."
The cloaked figure stopped, and he could feel her sharp gaze piercing his back. He turned to look at her.
Her brown eyes blazed with a fire much like that of a warrior. "My predecessor accepted such insults. I do not. Remember that."
Olog Gaar hid his trembling as she strode away. She was a Shaper, forbidden territory, but—
How he wished she was a warrior!
Secure, determined footsteps came down the hall, pausing in front of the creature-door…
Inside, a relatively unmarked male shaper worked diligently at his station, so much so that he did not glance up as his mistress entered. The 'door' opened, admitting his mistress.
"Report?" Her voice, though quietly strong with others, did not hide its command from its subordinates.
Only then did the male stop in his duties and turn to bow low to his cloaked mistress, the youngest Shaper ever made a Master. "I have made minimal progress, Honored One."
"Minimal?" she hissed, the question indisputably a command for a definition.
He bowed again, offering a sharp nod towards the object of his study. "The abomination defies all attempts at logic, Honored One. I cannot comprehend it."
The male shaper felt his mistress's eyes leave him to glance at the lightsaber. "Comprehend? Who asked you to comprehend it, Kotah?" she spoke softly, but power backed her words.
He bowed. "Belek tu, Honored One. I have misunderstood my assignment. My life as payment." He dropped to her knees before her in the motion common to the warrior caste and alien to the shaper, before they found Tayun Kwaad.
Palm up, her creature-hand stopped with the forefinger a millimeter from his throat. A wry smile lay on her lips as she drew that hand into a fist. "No," she replied. "You have seen your failing and take responsibility for it. The gods will have me grant you another opportunity, so you may use what you have learned."
Her head cocked to the side as she circled him. "Your assignment," she stressed, "is to collect the data from this—abomination." Her lips curled into a snarl as she spoke that word, then shifted into a wry smile. "I will analyze. The time draws near—work quickly!"
Returning to his feet, her subordinate bowed humbly. "If any can unravel this mystery, it is you, Honored One."
With a sharp nod, she left swiftly—then stopped, her hooded head turned towards him. "You doubt my wisdom."
The male tensed slightly. "I merely ponder why we need study this abomination, Honored One."
A sneer appeared on her pale, almost pink lips as she nodded slowly. "A lesson in Jeedai, Kotah. They can choose not to use their Force. Such was the first queen voxyn's failing. She could not know the Jeedai were near because they chose not to reveal themselves!"
The sneer took a pleased cast. "But a lightsaber, Kotah. A lightsaber no Jeedai would choose to leave behind.
"And the voxyn who can track this weapon," she finished quietly, "can find all Jeedai."
Author's Note:
What do you think? I'll only continue it if asked.
REVIEW PLEASE! :)