Authors Note:
Begun as a response to the "I Dare you Challenge", "And Vega Lights My Way" is another story in my version of the Ani-verse that features my OC's, Kampher and Schurke Canaille, and now ultimately their children, Aubé and Kay'leb.
The title is taken from John Denver's song "Spirit", and his songs will often open each chapter as they have been influencing me since childhood.
"A kid knows what
he wants to be before he's nine or ten
Cowboys, clowns, and men of
war and someone else's friend
But nine grows into big boys"
pants and then to scars and pain
Twenty's fast and hard as nails
but doesn't come again."
Come Let Me Look in Your Eyes-John Denver
Three Weeks after of Aubé Canaille's homecoming.
The Senator's Residence on Coruscaunt, formally known as "Imperial City"
Kampher sighed. There was no real point in trying to meditate – for herself anyway. At least her son Kay'leb had managed to find an effective, if restless, center, despite the carcophany emitting from the other room.
Perhaps he was just used to it, or at least remembered it from before.
With another sigh, Kam slowly removed herself from her cushion and made her way into the war zone that was the sitting room of their temporary apartment.
"What is going on in here?" Kampher snapped, exasperated. "I can't belive you two are still at it like a pair of angry rancors... "
Aubé rounded on her mother, and at once, Kampher could see what had sparked this latest diatribe from her husband. Perhaps this one was actually a little justified… for once.
The dress, what there was of it, would have been more befitting of one of Coruscant's lower levels, rather than for meeting a… Jedi Master. Kampher cast a look at Schurke, who stood in the corner with his arms tightly folded across his chest in indignation. His lips were thin, and his eyes narrow. He was furious.
"Mother!" Aubé began, only to have Kam cut her off gently. "Can't you tell Pappa..."
"I'll tell him no such thing Aubé. You can't go to the reception looking like that... "
Aubé's chin thrust out stubbornly, "Like what?"
Schurke cut in dryly, "Like a Spiced up working girl..."
"That's enough, Schurke!" Kampher retorted angerly, but Schurke wasn't going to back down.
"She's the daughter of the Corellian representative!" he began, his temper rising again.
"It"s not as though iCommander Skywalker/i hasn"t seen me in less!" Aubé said hotly. "On Arbra, all the recruits showered together..."
"That"s not the issue, Aubé Gris Canaille! And you know it!"
"Enough!" Kampher's voice cut through the air like a vibro-blade. "Schurke, hold your tongue. Aubé, I want you to find something less… provocative."
Seeing her daughter's stricken face, Kam softened. She walked over to her daughter and took her face in her hands. Raising Aube's downcast eyes to her own, she smiled. "Aubé, I understand…" she murmured softly, "but come with me. We'll find the middle ground between one of the boys and something that won't drive your father to an early grave. I promise."
Tears dusted Aubé's eyelashes, but she smiled at her mother as she nodded, and when her father walked by, she wrapped her hand delicatly around his fingers.
"I"m sorry Pappa," she murmered. Schurke only grunted in reply, but it was enough. Kampher knew that her daughter still loved her father, even though she didn't think she would ever compleatly understand him.
"Is it safe now?" Kay'leb's voice rang musically from the bedroom. "Has the great Corrilian thunderstorm of A-B-Y plus 6 passed ?"
"A-B-Y ?" Kampher looked at her son, puzzled. He had already changed out of his comfortable traveling clothes, and was dressed in a simple blue tunic and long trousers.
Too simple. Thankfully, Schurke hadn"t seen it. "You'll need to change, too, Kay'leb."
"A-B-Y mother," Aubé answered helpfully. "It's the new calandar... and mother's right Kay, this isn't a Healers conference, this is a reception with Master Skywalker...". At these last words, a lilt came into her voice, and her eyes seemed far away. Suddenly, everything made sense to Kampher…
"Of course..." Kam thought to herself. The Force knows its own beloved children... it stands to reason...
However, now wasn't the time to discuss such matters. Within the hour, they would join at least another fifty representatives of the Galaxy and their families, and here on Coruscaunt - once the very heart of the Republic - the term Jedi still had an unknown quality to it. Perhaps a dangerous one. Palpatine's reign of terror and propaganda had reduced many once proud institutions to the level of mocked superstions – and in the Jedi's case, one of fear and mistrust – despite young Skywalker's apparent embracing of it, and the heroism he was already known for. No, for now it was best to remain invisible... hidden.
"Kay-leb, put on one of your father's other uniforms," Kampher told him lightly, keeping a well practiced, tight lid on the swirling emotions she herself was feeling. "And do something with that bantha nest you call a head of hair."
"I'll make myself pretty mother," Kay-leb winked rougishly at his sister and ducked as a well aimed projectile narrowly missed his head. It stopped in mid air, and lightly floated to a small end table. "Have to be faster than that, Sis!" he laughed. Kampher was not amused.
"Aubé, Kay'leb…"
"We know, Mother," Aubé groaned with the attitude of one who has heard this lecture, many, many times. "While we're here on Coruscant, we must do nothing to give away the fact that we might be… different . Although I still don't understand why. Luke –Commander Skywalker- is proud of his heritage, why can't we be?"
Again, Kampher tenderly cupped her daughter's chin in her hand. "Soon, children of our hearts… soon enough, we'll tell you everything. Things we should have told you a long time ago… But for tonight, we are merely a part of the Corrillian Consulate. Your father's family. Now, let's go find you a proper dress."
