GATHERING FORCES
We had one flashback to The Ashla Awareness last chapter, and now Gen 2 brings in one of its stars. Bremon Kira is the property of DuchessKenobi, and I'd like to send her a big thank you for allowing me to bring him into the fray. -LS
...
"I'd like to say this is a very unorthodox funeral," King Dendup comments while they gather in the refresher.
"The 'fresher is the only room with an exhaust vent," Lux explains.
"And why do we need an exhaust vent for a funeral?" one of the militiamen asks.
"For this." Steela points to a mass of rumpled fabric sitting at the bottom of the shower. It's the place they decided had the minimal risk of causing fire. "We're burning it in memory of Dono and need the exhaust vent to get rid of the smoke."
"A shirt?"
"Not just any shirt. This is the fruit shirt, which according to Dono was the worst shirt to ever grace the galaxy. As soon as she saw it she was bent on making sure no one wore it. I think she'd have some peace knowing she left the universe with one less piece of horrible fashion."
Saw pours an accelerant over the shirt and hands a book of matches to Werda and Hero. "As her friends, would you like to do the honors?"
Hero and Werda nod to each other and light their matches. Lux starts the exhaust vent.
"Burn," Hero whispers and drops her match. "Burn, you ugly piece of -."
"Isn't that Momma's shirt?" Kason whispers.
Dalla nods. "Aye, but you didn't hear that."
Hero's and Werda's matches hit the fabric and flames engulf the fruit shirt. It burns like flimsi, the fruit embroidery melting in with the rest of it.
When the entire thing is reduced to a smoldering pile of ash, they all sense a presence relax away. As if it's saying thank you for averting the fashion disaster.
Werda smiles wryly. "Yeah Dono, the galaxy's a more fashionable place thanks to you."
Saw turns on the shower to extinguish the embers. "Should we say some words?"
"Dono wouldn't have liked that," Hero says. "Getting rid of bad fashion is perfect for her."
Still, they bow their heads for a moment of silence. It just doesn't seem like a funeral without some reflection for the woman who loved fashion and claimed not to know nautical directions and hated fruit shirts and destroyer droids with a burning passion.
Steela breaks it.
"Rest in peace, Dono," she says. "The rest of us have to move out."
…
They enter the tunnels through the same access point they exited while they were escaping the execution. Werda takes the lead, followed by Steela, Lux, Saw, Ahsoka, and the king.
"Ahsoka?" Lux asks a while later. "Are you alright? You're acting strangely."
"I'm fine," she says. "Remember the dark presence I told my master about around the campfire when we were in the jungle? It's much stronger here, like I'm getting closer."
"Small wonder. These catacombs connect to the tomb of Freedon Nadd," Steela tells her. "It's hidden deep under the royal palace and no one's tried to touch it for a long time, but it's still there. Most native Onderonians are used to it. How badly is it bothering you?"
"It's not calling out to or harassing me," Ahsoka clarifies. "It's just there, like a shadow."
"You know, these tunnels are pretty extensive," Saw muses. "If we wanted, they would make an excellent base…"
"I wouldn't recommend that, Saw. The darkness down here…" Ahsoka trails off and looks over her shoulder as if she expects Naddist ghosts to be on their heels. Dalla pulls Thias and Kason close on sheer instinct. Northerners and black magic don't mix, and she'll put her credits on Ahsoka's expertise.
"Nobody should ever use tunnels for anything," Lux agrees. "Except escape routes."
"We don't have much farther until we get to the access point by the old Kira place," Werda calls back. "Steela and Saw can get you two wherever you're going from there."
"And where are we going?" Thias asks.
"The Highlands," Steela says. "It offers the most strategic advantages if we have the high ground and we can easily get beasts and supplies there. And the river winds past them before it hits Iziz, so we can rendezvous with the navy. Dalla, progress?"
"I haven't placed a comm to my father directly," she says. "I didn't want to risk giving up our location since Rash has to be monitoring transmissions. But if Father saw the execution on the HoloNet, then he's leaving now if he hasn't already left. As soon as we arrive I'll have to figure something out to tell him where to go."
Hutch speaks up. "I can bounce a holomessage around the planet ten times if I have a good enough connection. If you come up with a code for the transmission itself, I can get it to him.
"I'm probably going to take you up on that, Hutch." For all his indiscretion when he found her and Saw in the kitchen, Hutch is actually a pretty good guy.
"And what are we going to do with our friends?" Dendup glares at Beard and Jarvis near the back of the line, detained by their militia escort.
"There are some abandoned barns we can put them in," Saw says. "Maybe even some kennels."
What I'd like to do to them involves Harkon Hall's kennels, Dalla thinks. If Saw wants to give them a preview he can go right ahead.
"Aside from that there are caves and other places to set up base and keep you safe, Your Highness." Steela changes the subject. "I'm thinking the Nest is our best bet."
Tandin nods; clearly he knows what they're talking about. "Good call. High ground, many caves, close proximity to the river. We shouldn't have any trouble bouncing a signal from there."
"Dalla, do you want me to be with you for that?" Steela asks.
"No thank you. It's just a text message and he's my father; he's much more agreeable than the Bralykburns. But I think I'm going to need your help for something else."
Steela follows her gaze to the boys hanging back with Tandin.
"I have an idea," she says.
…
Marlon and Jamos Blackwell, your order for chirn bait is available for pickup at the following coordinates:
Dalla hands the datapad with the message and coordinates back to Hutch. "I entered his personal comm frequency and my uncle's. That should cover everything. Can you make it look like it's from a fish bait company?"
"Do fish breathe water?" Hutch scoffs and starts preparing the transmission. "I can make it look like it's from Chancellor Palpatine."
"Thanks for doing this, Hutch."
"If it means you and Saw stop giving me the stink eye over Kitchengate, I'll do it any day." He taps the datapad. "I sent it and if Rash sees it, it'll look like a northern frequency."
"I'll tell Saw to quit glaring at you."
"Are you sure you two aren't married?" Hutch smirks.
"Are you sure you and Hero aren't?" She volleys back.
"Anyone ever told you you're relentless, Dalla?"
"Of course I am. At least, when I have to deal with Saw and you."
"Smart. I'll tell you if I get any response from your dad," he goes back to the datapad with lasered focus. "I don't want the Lord of the North after me for impersonating his kid."
"He can get intense," she nods and heads for the mouth of the cave Steela's designated their new base. "Thanks, Hutch!"
Steela meets her just inside the mouth. "I have the dalgos hitched. Are you ready to go?"
"Just have to grab our passengers." She whistles. "Hey, guys!"
Thias and Kason's heads snap in her direction from their place helping King Dendup settle in.
"Get in the cart. We're leaving."
Getting in the cart turns out to be far more complicated than one would think. The dalgos, which Steela assures Dalla half a hundred times is one of the rebels' gentlest, has no intention of letting her or Thias anywhere near it.
Steela the beast whisperer attempts to bribe it with sucrose lumps but whenever Dalla or Thias gets close enough to even touch it the dalgos acts like it wants to tear their faces off.
"Luna, this isn't you!" Steela begs, petting the dalgos' snout. "Even if you're with foal, Uncle Brem says you're the calmest mount he's seen in years."
"If this is a calm one, I don't want to see a normal one," Dalla says.
"This isn't like her at all." Steela reaches for another handful of sucrose lumps. "I think she just doesn't like northerners, like during the Beast Wars. They really didn't like your ancestors."
"The final straw that prompted Aloysius Blackwell to leave was when a beast threw his wife from its back so aye, I'd say they have something on northerners."
"So we're walking?" Thias suggests. He doesn't want to be near the dalgos any more than Luna wants to be near him.
"No, I have to take her back to Uncle Brem." Steela thinks a moment. "If you guys get in the back of the cart instead of sitting up front with me...maybe that would work."
"If it keeps us away from teeth, I'm all for it," Dalla and Thias climb into the back of the cart while Steela distracts Luna with sucrose. "Kase, get in!"
Kason pats the beast's flank. "She's not evil, guys," he rolls his eyes and climbs into the cart.
"It must sense you're half Beast Rider," Dalla grumbles and takes Steela's hand to pull herself into the cart's seat from behind. She settles in silently, praying Luna won't notice.
Luna notices and Steela makes a nickering sound. "It's okay, girl. They're friends. Now let's go to Brem's."
Luna clearly isn't pleased, but Steela's sucrose bribe works and she grudgingly plods off down one of the beast trails.
"Why are we bothering Lord Kira?" Thias asks. "Why can't we just stay with King Dendup? It's safe there, with the bodyguards."
Dalla decides to be brutally honest. "Thias, with your track record there's no way I'm leaving you within a klik of a battlefield."
"And the old Kira place is much safer," Steela adds. "It's away from the fighting, and Uncle Brem will be there to take care of you. He'll keep you safe and updated on the situation, and he's very kind. He'd be more than happy to teach you about the beasts or the Beast Wars."
"Won't Dad and Uncle Marlon be worried about us?" Kason asks.
"They'll worry a lot less if you're away from the fighting." Dalla eyes Luna warily as the dalgos snorts at the sound of her voice. "Thanks for asking your uncle if he could take them," she whispers.
"Not a problem. I already had to make a run to the old Kira place, might as well take you guys with me. It's nicer to travel with company anyway."
"Even company your dalgos hates?"
"Makes it interesting!"
Luna grunts her disagreement.
The trail winds out of the mountains and into the shaded jungle, still closely following the river. Eventually the trees clear to reveal a sprawling ranch-style house. It would be beautiful if someone was taking care of it, but the house itself seems to be neglected. The gardens surrounding it are overgrown and wild, with vines crawling up the house's walls. In sharp contrast the barn and pastures are well-maintained, and there an older man stands next to an equally ancient ruping, staring at the two girls in the cart's seat.
Steela pulls their cart to his position. "Hey, Uncle Brem."
Bremon Kira smiles weakly. He's really not that old, closer to Marlon's age, but time hasn't been kind to him. "It's good to see you, Steela. I was worried, hearing what happened on the steps."
"It takes more than that to do us in," Steela smiles broadly and jumps off the cart. "How are you and Frayl doing?"
Bremon shrugs. "We're managing like we always do. I saw your new camp. Do you have the animals settled in?"
"We do. Thank you for holding onto our beasts while we were in the city," Steela gestures to the Blackwells unloading from the cart. "We've got some more for you. These are Dalla, Thias, and Kason Blackwell."
Dalla approaches, cutting Luna and the ruping a wide berth. "Lord Kira," she says and respectfully nods her head. "I'm Dalla Blackwell. Thank you so much for agreeing to keep these two."
Looking at her Bremon almost seems to be physically pained, but he speaks through it. "Shara is like a sister to me. I'd do anything to help her family."
"Thank you all the same." She doesn't know why Bremon looks so distressed looking at her, last she checked she wasn't that ugly. But it's not really disgust on his face, more like sadness.
Steela clears her throat. "We should get the boys into the house."
"Of course," Dalla falls back with her while the boys introduce themselves to Bremon. "Steela, what am I missing?" She whispers.
"Uncle Brem's wife died in a crash seventeen years ago," Steela whispers. "She was pregnant, and that baby would be just about our age. Whenever he talks about it with me, and that isn't often, he always says his daughter and I would have been best friends. And well, with you here I think that pair might have been a triad. And so does Brem."
"Salt gods." No wonder the poor man looks so sad! "And he's been out here mourning the whole time?"
"He would have gone feral if it wasn't for us. I shouldn't have asked him to keep the boys here; this is the house he shared with his wife so it has to be painful, but I don't know where else he's staying and wherever it is it can't be comfortable or even that safe."
"Is there anything we can do?"
"Aside from the obvious of don't bring it up, Saw and I haven't found anything that works."
They'll have to think of something but for now, don't bring it up sounds like the best plan. They follow Bremon Kira into the house to help the boys get settled in.
…
There haven't been this many people in Bremon's house for seventeen years, during Mel- no, he can't think of that. He can't think of Melaana or her Lifeday party or her baby or the last day they were all happy together, or he's going to lose it. He'd almost broken down when he saw Steela riding in with the other girl by her side and it's sheer conviction that keeps him dry-eyed now. Well, conviction and the quest to get Kason Blackwell something more suitable to wear.
The young boy is dressed in fancy, ceremonial clothes in his family's colors, clearly something Sanjay Rash had made for him. They look ridiculous paired with his Beast Rider genetics, like Shara in a wild trick riding costume. Bremon digs through an ancient trunk and unearths some more situationally appropriate clothes. Kason swims in them, but he and his cousins seem to know their way around fabric. They cut, tuck, roll, and take in the clothes to fit the boy's smaller frame.
"Thias is a bit of an escape artist," Steela tells him. "Keep a close eye on him, will you?"
"I think his sister is putting the fear of the force into him," Brem says and nods toward Dalla Blackwell saying something about "the cat" and "Father" and "chum" to two frantically nodding heads.
"Be good for Lord Kira," she orders, and holds out her arms to hug them.
Steela brings his attention back to her. "Dalla and I need to go. Thank you again for agreeing to take care of them."
"Of course," he doesn't know the Blackwells, but anything for his beast rider "sister" and anything for Steela. "Take anything you need. And Steela?"
"Yes?"
Without warning Bremon squashes her in a hug. "Be safe."
"Uncle Brem," Steela hugs him back. "Of course I will."
The girls go out the back door and Bremon forces himself not to watch them leave. He directs the boys to a bedroom to get settled in when there's a commotion and a female shriek from the back.
Thias Blackwell sits up like someone lit his pants on fire. "That's -!"
"I'll handle it," Bremon says and shuts the door on the escape artists. He runs over to the nearest window to see.
Steela and Dalla are in the ruping paddock, saddling Princess for flight. Or more accurately, Steela is saddling Princess. Dalla stands a good distance back, stiff as a board.
"Steela, it hates me!" she cries.
"'It' is a she and her name is Princess," Steela informs her. "She and her brother Frayl are Uncle Brem's best mounts. I've been riding her since I was old enough to sit up. She showed us the Nest! Princess doesn't hate anyone."
"If you say so." The northern girl doesn't sound convinced but she tries to approach again, hand outstretched. "Nice ruping…"
Princess eyes Dalla warily and once she gets within reach, the ruping screeches and wildly flaps its wings.
Steela blinks. "Okay, so maybe she hates you a little."
Frayl ambles up to the two girls, no doubt to see what all the fuss is about.
"Look, this one doesn't want to kill me," Dalla points at Frayl. "Can we take it?"
"That's Frayl, and Uncle Brem would probably kill me if I took him. Just try one more time."
"Fine," Dalla fixes Princess with a look. "Okay, overgrown seagull - hey!"
Frayl shoves her with his wing and squawks, as if saying don't call my sister an overgrown seagull, northerner! Steela bursts out laughing.
"It's not funny!" Dalla cries, cheeks bright red.
"Oh yeah it is!"
Brem smiles watching the two of them, and for a second he thinks he sees a shadow about their size moving inside the barn, laughing as well.
He shuts his eyes to unsee the illusion but that only makes it worse. In his mind's eye he sees her, a tiny clone of Melaana helping Steela saddle Princess and giggling at Dalla. They would have been such good friends. And behind him...
No. This isn't real; he won't torture himself with what could have been. Bremon opens his eyes and forces himself to grasp reality: there are only two girls in the paddock. No third running there or in the barn, and no woman hovering behind him watching carefully.
Through her laughter Steela holds out a hand. "Just run for it and I'll swing you up!"
Dalla does and narrowly avoids Princess' wings. Steela swings her onto the noble beast's back and Dalla clings to her for dear life. Princess clearly isn't happy with her new rider.
"Easy, girl," Steela pets the ruping's neck. "Dalla's a friend. We don't want to throw her off."
Brem has to smile when he sees the look on Dalla's face.
"Dalla, ease up. She's not going to kill us."
"Are you so sure about that?"
"Positive." She spurs Princess and they take off into the air. "Bye, Uncle Brem!" She yells back.
"Be careful!" Bremon shouts after them. "Both of you!"
…
Poor, poor Brem. If you'd like to see him when he was happy, then The Ashla Awareness is the story for you. If you want sadness however, you've come to the right place.
Thank you to everyone for commenting, and please don't hesitate to comment or to check out the new age and character model references in the forum!