Hardly two standard hours before the sun was to return to the sky, Mand Natiyr sat at a narrow window that looked out onto Coruscant's twinkling night skyline. The ceaseless motion of the skylanes of spacecraft and repulsorlift vehicles that extended in every direction about the city-planet had a sort of mesmerizing effect, creating a soothing mosaic of movement against the backdrop of the various skyscrapers and edifices alight with beacons and signs. In anyone else, watching a mere half hour of the endless traffic would've induced a deep, coma-like sleep, but Mand consciously forced any hint of it far out of her mind. She had done so for almost two weeks, though she was quickly losing the strength to keep fighting.
She had once thought the sprawling ecumenopolis a dazzling and exciting sight to behold, having visited it only three or four times in her early youth as a covert and lethal Dark agent for the Empire, but it had quickly lost its charm in the past five years of her life, of which she only remembered a combined total of one.
Four years of her late teens had been stolen from her, just as she had been stolen from a busy Coruscant market in broad daylight to be subjected to genetic experiments of which she had no recollection. After her rescue, a dangerous bounty hunter pursued her, barely missing her in an assassination attempt at the former Imperial Palace. A New Republic councilor had her imprisoned on Coruscant for choosing to carry the clone implanted inside her to term and nearly died from a lack of medical treatment. And after returning to the city-planet following her eviction from the planet of Paneau for her ties to the exiled King Veon Banarecc, she had become physically incapacitated by a series of visions involving several dark figures wielding Force Lightning, silhouetted against the planet's recognizable skyline.
Coruscant had come to spell nothing but peril and disaster for her. And up until a month ago, Paneau had been her safe haven. So where was she to go?
Mand and her husband Rech had settled well into life on Paneau after they became employed in the Dalon Palace, Rech as a medic, Mand as a caretaker. They had no qualms with remaining there following the birth of their "daughter" Cordira and had actually expected to. There was no way they could have foreseen the devastation they endured.
The three hastily relocated to Coruscant, temporarily moving into a spare bedroom in Rech's parents' home. Shortly after arriving, Mand had begun training sessions with Jedi Master Strone Lithess, a quiet but highly intelligent and skilled duel master. Following the disaster on Paneau, Mand had felt Rech becoming increasingly centered on his anger, though she had tried everything in her power to console him. Guiltily feeling the need to relearn how to properly defend herself and her daughter, she had enlisted Master Lithess' help without Rech's knowledge. It was after a particularly vigorous training session that the second vision attacked her, robbing her of physical strength and rendering her comatose for a few days.
The visions had left behind tangible manifestations - Force Lightning burns on her neck and arm. Each time she had revisited the haunting visions in her dreams and meditations, the burns seared anew, forcing her to forfeit sleep to avoid the pain, both physical and emotional. She also avoided meditation as long as possible, but she couldn't relinquish them both. In a meditation, she figured she could at least have more control over the direction it took.
Each time, the vision was the same. She saw herself beside Rech and their friend Koril Rys'tihn standing on a nondescript landing platform nestled in the busy Coruscant sky. A strange ship landed just in front of them, and six dark figures stepped forward, each releasing a volley of Force Lightning. Just before she came out of the vision, she saw one face illuminated by the lightning - someone immediately related to her in her "family," the Tarthos. She had never met any of them, that she could recall, anyway, but after looking them up, she recognized the face as that of her older sister, Anastasia. Considering Mand's own history as a practicing Dark Jedi in everything but name, she had no doubt that her sister and other siblings had followed similar paths.
Mand had never experienced visions before. Her Force skills focused mostly on physical, tactile abilities and mental control, but after her four-year captivity by a powerful Dark Lord, her skills had changed. Not only was she more proficient at physical combat, but her mental abilities had increased exponentially, as well. She had made a conscious choice to reject the Dark Side before her disappearance, but after her rescue, she could only attribute her new strength to the Dark influence. What else could have unlocked such power?
The thought of her strength in the Dark Side sent a chill down her spine, and a soft cry from Cordira's crib nearby snapped Mand out of her reverie. Though barely five weeks old, Cordira was so well connected to Mand's feelings that even the slightest fear or sadness made the infant girl cry, unable to interpret the emotion. Mand stood from the window sill and strode over to the crib in the Natiyr's living room. She had learned to quickly master her emotions over the past month, which kept Cordira calm, but lately her concentration had been slipping.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she whispered to Cordira as she scooped her up into her arms. With only a few gentle rocks, the infant calmed completely, nearly returning to a light sleep. She made a few contented noises before snuggling into her blanket she was wrapped in. Mand held her for a few moments more before slowly lowering her back into the crib, securing another blanket around her. Cordira's sharp grey eyes seemed to glow in the dark room, intently focused on her mother's face. Mand smiled, stroking the girl's soft, fire-red hair. Master Aalon Noor had shown her the genetic comparisons between herself and Cordira, and there were hardly any differences, save for her hair and eye color. Cordira was a clone, except for a few noticeable changes.
The infant girl returned to sleep, pacified as Mand soothed her with the Force. Her peaceful face soothed Mand in turn, and again, Mand smiled. So many trials, so many troubles had complicated her life every step of the way since she had forged an unbreakable friendship with a strong-willed Jedi student seven years ago, but as she looked down at the sleeping child, Mand was sure of one thing. Her life was exponentially better than it had been, and she knew more troubles lie ahead, but she had Cordira, and she had Rech.
Another sound broke through her thoughts. A door opened down the hall, and before she could see who it was, Rech's panicked voice pierced through the darkness.
"Mand! Mand!" Rech had sprinted down the hall and met her before she had taken more than one step. He had been asleep in their room; he was still wearing some light sleep pants. Mand's senses were instantly on edge as she noticed him holding his side as if in pain. She couldn't even respond before he questioned her.
"Mand! Are you okay?" He rapidly glanced about the room, checking both Mand and Cordira. Mand struggled to retain his attention.
"I'm fine! Rech, what's wrong?" She took his hand off his side; his five year old Force Lightning scars were a deep red, like he had just received them, and he grimaced as she moved his hand. He still looked alarmed.
"You're okay? You didn't..." he trailed off, still breathing heavily.
"What happened, Rech?" Mand asked forcefully. She was sure Cordira would be waking up again at any moment, though she tried her best to keep her emotions subdued. Still on edge, Rech was at least calming down somewhat.
"I had that vision, same as yours, only I saw all their faces," he finally confessed. "Besides the Tarthos, another one looked familiar to me, but I can't place why."
Mand held Rech's gaze, seeing the fear in his eyes. He had always tried to protect her from injury and nearly gave his own life to rescue her during her kidnapping. He must have feared that she was experiencing the vision simultaneously; the last one had rendered her comatose for days.
She looked down, relieved there was no imminent danger, but saddened that he shared in her physical pain. She had never heard of two Jedi experiencing the same vision, not to mention one that manifests physically in Force Lightning burns. She and Rech shared a special connection between them that amplified their feelings for each other and allowed them to understand each other more fully, but perhaps it was also allowing them to share this painful vision. She didn't want to be responsible for that.
"Maybe," she said quietly as she looked back up, gently placing her hand on his side to heal it, "we should go speak with Master Skywalker in the morning." Rech grimaced slightly with her touch, but covered her hand with his and nodded. Just as the brightening horizon began to lighten the room, Mand looked over at the crib to see Cordira awake but motionless, intently watching the two of them without making a sound.
By the time they had arrived with their eleven passengers, the Rys'tihn Manor was already teeming with activity. Security patrols were monitoring every entrance, and a few extra servants were on hand to care for the youngest children in a downstairs room and to prepare a light meal for all. Elena chose a piece of fruit to eat instead; she was able to remain mobile and alert that way. Koril had assured her that their security had been hand-picked for their loyalty to him and to other Royal Families, but still she kept her senses on edge. They were taking a huge risk, gathering the six families, no matter how secret they thought they had kept it.
Though she wandered about the Manor's grand main hall where the twenty-two of them were meeting, Elena kept a close eye on Koril. He was sitting on a large couch towards the back of the room, having a quiet conversation with Jec Banarecc, the thirteen-year-old heir to Paneau's throne. Vianne and Veron, Jec's aunt and uncle, hovered nearby, both sporting worried expressions. The rest of the Royal Families sat at a long banquet table and cautiously conversed as they ate. Some of them watched her warily, while others seemed to intentionally ignore her. She didn't mind. She'd have to leave soon, anyway, once the meeting was officially begun.
Jec gave her a small smile from across the room. She returned it as best she could, though she knew she wasn't terribly convincing. She had met Jec more than six years ago when she first arrived on the remote planet. She had been just a Jedi student at the time, sent by the Jedi Academy on Yavin IV to collect some supplies Paneau had arranged to provide for them. Her first impression of the then-seven-year-old Jec was that he reminded her of her younger brother she had left behind on Hoth. Through the various events and troubles she had endured with the Banareccs over the years, she had watched Jec grow and mature in spite of the devastations he had faced. She harbored reservations about crowning such a young man as king, burdening him with the problems that plagued his planet and defamed his father, but Koril had reminded her that it was his right as Veon's heir. And though he was young, Elena could think of no other who would have a purer heart with which to lead.
Koril caught her gaze and gave her a quick nod, indicating they were ready to begin the discussion. Jec looked confident, though Vianne and Veron's expressions hadn't changed much. As Koril began to address the families, Elena was already walking down the main staircase to the entrance hall below. If she focused enough, she could hear Koril's voice behind her.
"...are dangerous times for us all. We've asked you to come because there are a few things we think you all should know before we proceed..."
She already knew what he was going to discuss with them first - the content of the transmission he was confronted by bounty hunters about. She remembered vividly hearing Merli'il Rys'tihn's broken holomessage that revealed Veon's innocence in the Governor removals for which he was exiled. She remembered it so well because it tore at her heart, hearing Merli'il's confession after learning that Koril had been killed. She knew that father and son had been close, even more so after Lori, Koril's mother, had been killed fending off Stormtroopers during the Invasion. Elena hadn't met Koril until after her death, but she was sure he had been just as upset.
Looking around the Manor, she began to notice that even though Koril had spent nearly two weeks hauling his family's belongings from here to a small apartment on Coruscant, the rooms still looked well-furnished, as if hardly anything had been removed. Each wall still had beautiful paintings of famous Paneau locations evenly spaced apart, small stone statues that depicted Rys'tihn descendants sat atop pedestals placed between the paintings, and there were chairs and benches and tables in their places as she had remembered. What had taken Koril so long to move?
Granted, she hadn't seen much of the Manor before. There were at least three more levels above the main floor, and she wasn't sure what those held. Bedrooms, she guessed, but even then, it had just been Koril and his father living there for the past five years.
Elena was sure she had been milling about the front foyer for at least a standard hour, and she could still pick up on quiet discussion in the room above. As much as she wanted to know what the Royal Families were saying, she trusted Koril would inform her later on, so she moved onto other topics. She wondered how Rech and Mand were doing; she had left so hastily with Koril that she hadn't even had the chance to talk to them. They had gone with Master Noor to rescue Lutin Callegari, who had been kidnapped by the Scornes, and she knew they had been successful. The Jedi Temple had forwarded a message the Natiyrs had sent her, informing her of such. She sent one in return, letting them know where she was. Though she hadn't heard back from them, she was sure they had their hands full, and not just with their daughter, Cordira.
A strange clicking noise sounded from the wall behind her, disrupting the silence in the hall. Curious, she looked back in time to see a waist-high panel disappear, revealing a dark corridor behind it. She quickly reached out with the Force and tugged her lightsaber off her belt as she felt a single lifeforce beginning to emerge from the space. Just as Elena ignited her lightsaber and sent the familiar snap-hiss of her blade echoing through the corridor, a young woman leapt through the opening, rolled, and stood with two blasters drawn. Elena readied herself in a defensive stance, prepared to deflect bolts, but she quickly realized that the blond-haired woman looked very familiar.
"Lower your weapon," the woman commanded. "I mean you no harm."
"Then neither do I. Who are you?"
"I'm afraid that is not your business to know." Still with both blasters trained on Elena, the woman seemed to scan her neck and shoulders before speaking again. "The crest. Where is it?"
Elena tightened her grip on her saber's hilt. How did this woman know that she had possessed it at one point? She gave no reply, her senses on edge. She had no idea what to expect.
The woman stepped forward, angered by Elena's silence. "The crest! I know he gave it to you, what have you done with it!"
Elena held her ground, tensing her arms for a succession of quick movements if needed. The woman's urgency confused her.
"I don't have it," she said honestly. She didn't want to tell this stranger who really had it. The woman began to look worried, and Elena suddenly understood why.
"You're a Rys'tihn, aren't you?"
Slowly the woman lowered her blasters, seemingly defeated. Her eyes became sad, as if the name carried a lot of pain for her. She didn't answer the question, but Elena didn't need her to. She lowered and powered down her saber as she spoke quietly.
"You look just like him."
The woman's reaction was hard to read, but she softened her expression as she pleaded. "The crest; I need it."
"I told you, I don't have it." Again, the woman looked worried, and Elena could sense her feelings were genuine. She had to be one of the Rys'tihn Ghost Heirs. Elena continued cautiously. "I gave it back to...Koril."
At that, the woman seemed confused.
"He survived the bounty hunters," Elena clarified. "He's alive."
To her surprise, the woman looked horrified. "He's here? I can't..." Before Elena could respond, the woman turned back to the crawlspace opening in the wall, leaving hastily.
"Wait, please!" Elena pleaded as she stepped forward. The woman stopped just as she holstered her blasters and had one hand on the wall, prepared to stoop and reenter the corridor.
"At least tell me your name, so I can tell him."
The woman was motionless for a long moment, considering Elena's request. She swallowed, looking down as she spoke.
"Dad never told him, did he?" Elena wasn't sure if a response was necessary; the woman's tone sounded as if she had already come to that realization. Patiently, Elena waited.
"Deilia," she said finally. Elena would've been satisfied with that, but she continued. "He would've known me as..."
"Deil," Elena quietly finished for her. Koril's twin sister. He had told her early in their relationship that Deil died when they were born prematurely. Deilia looked up and nodded, then answered a question Elena hadn't even thought to ask.
"Kaydee has the deciphering codes. He'll know how to find me from there." With that, Deilia ducked into the small corridor and disappeared as the wall panel quietly slid back into place.
"I still don't think this is a good idea. It's too dangerous."
Koril sighed to himself as the conversation turned the way he was hoping it wouldn't. Of all the royalty gathered there, his staunchest opposition surprised him. He was about to respond when someone beat him to it.
"Dangerous or not, Veron, those Governors took their power illegally," Annaliza Trislena said. "If they're not even held accountable to our laws, then who else is to be?"
"There are seventy-six of them, plus their aides and other staff, and how many of us?" Xavius Trislena rebutted his sister.
"As I said before, I can have more than a hundred of our best men from the Royal Navy and the Royal Guard behind us," Koril added. "They need only an hour to gather when we ask." Xavius maintained his hard glare, sparing no one. Koril looked elsewhere to continue his response. "I'm not asking you for your presence there when we do confront them; I realize that is very dangerous, and I wouldn't force that on anyone who was not well-trained in combat. Jec and I are only asking for your support after things are overturned, helping us to rebuild the Boards and Councils."
The twenty faces staring at him remained silent. He tried his best to not look disappointed, but he was certain he was failing. He had almost ceded and backed down when Jec, standing at his side, stepped forward and began to address them.
"I know you are all afraid," Jec began. "I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't. I've spent the past thirteen years of my life learning from academy instructors, family friends, and various officials my father dealt with on a daily basis. I know just the basics of law and politics, but I don't need another ten years' education to know how to make choices that serve the greater good and ensure the preservation of every Paneau citizen's rights. I don't need government experience to do the right thing. I've learned by observing what's happened here for the past few years. I've seen the best in people, and I've seen the worst. I can't tell you that this transition will be easy, because I know it won't. What I can tell you is that I only want the serenity and peace for which Paneau is known to be restored. And I'll need help from each of you to accomplish that. Please, help me return our home to what we remember it to be."
Again, Koril glanced out at the vacant faces that were staring back, and his spirits sunk even further with each successive moment of silence. He looked down, sure of defeat.
"I will tend to the Business Board," Kellan Ordeel said confidently as he stood from his seat at the table. Koril looked up and met Kellan's proud gaze. Sol Gedall stood, as well.
"InterRel Board."
Dran Ot'rio, the only Ot'rio present and a former Governor, also stood. "I'll look after the new Governors."
Veron Banarecc had turned his gaze to the floor and remained motionless. His sister Vianne stood instead. "Finance."
All eyes focused on the Trislenas, where Xavius and Jethro were engaged in a staring match. Defiantly, Jethro stood, not turning his gaze away from his infuriated brother. "Law," he said strongly, and tense moments passed before Jec nodded his thanks to the five, returning them to their seats.
"I've named Koril my Head of Security," Jec continued, pausing briefly to hear any voiced objections. "He'll be orchestrating the confrontation which will take place tomorrow at the Dalon Council Hall." Jec turned and nodded to him, giving Koril the floor.
"We're going to send word through various anonymous channels that the High Council intends to make an important announcement concerning citizens' rights. The more publicity, the more people present that they cannot control, the better. They need to be unseated by the general assembly, as well, not just by us." A few nods from the group further encouraged him.
"Until then, you are all more than welcome to stay here. More armed patrols are on their way, and I assure you, the Manor has the best private residence security system. There is ample space, room, and food, and we have a few servants available, thanks to the Trislenas, who can bring you anything you need."
"You should be aware, however," Koril continued, "that after our king is crowned, the Manor will serve as a temporary Palace until another can be built or bought. We can arrange for extra security when you return to your homes, whatever would make you feel more comfortable."
"If there are no more questions," he concluded, "you are free to leave, and thank you for your input tonight."
As a few families dispersed, half a dozen approached him and requested to remain in the Manor. He quickly agreed, and after instructing Kaydee to direct each family to their room, he saw Elena waiting patiently at the bottom of the staircase. He waved her up as the last family vacated the hall, leaving only Veron and Jec. She had a strange look on her face but she quickly corrected it as she approached.
"They're supporting your plan?" Either she was reading his mind, or she inferred the results from his lightened expression. He nodded, glancing back at Jec.
"We'll get things moving in the morning. The Council is convening tomorrow evening, presumably to continue their squabbling over who's in charge." Koril frowned as Veron walked past them and left without a word, his face blank. Jec shrugged, but smiled as he stepped over to Elena.
"It's good to see you, Elena," he said as he embraced her. Though it had only been a little more than a month since she had left, Koril knew they had become close after surviving the Invasion together.
"You're sure you're ready for this, Jec?" Elena asked concernedly as she squeezed his shoulders, but Jec only smiled as he nodded, suddenly looking like a happy thirteen-year-old should. His smile faded, though, as he thought for a moment.
"I should go find Veron," Jec said finally, nodding a goodbye to them both as he strode out of the hall. Koril watched him leave, curious why he hadn't noticed Jec's maturity and poise before. Koril had believed Jec educated enough to assume the crown, but over the past month he had changed. It was like he had been king for years already; his father had prepared him well.
"Koril, you're shaking." He instantly turned his head to Elena and followed her gaze to his hands. He brought his palm up and furrowed his brows as he realized she was right. Without the constant scrutiny of the Royal Families burning into his consciousness, he began to notice all his muscles were sore again. The discussion had kept him distracted from his aching. He fumbled for some kind of explanation.
"Must be nerves," he lied. She simply shook her head, concerned.
"In an experienced starfighter pilot? I don't buy it." Anticipating her order, he sat down in the nearest chair as she gently placed a hand on his forehead, still standing beside him. Her fingers were ice cold, but he was used to that. The Hoth native had a lower body temperature than most humans, adjusted to the wintry planet's climate. She retracted her hand and shook her head again.
"But you're not feverish." She sounded relieved, and intent on dropping the subject, he moved on.
"Kaydee's taken the families that are staying here to their rooms on the third floor. My room's on the fourth. Where would you like to stay?" He knew he had caught her off guard; he watched her expression carefully. Initially she seemed irritated that he refused to discuss his condition, but her face softened as she tucked her jet black hair behind her ear.
"Wherever there's room for me."
He nodded, and instantly decided where she'd stay: his mother's old room. There his father had kept the most comfortable bed in the Manor, almost as if he expected Lori to come back someday. Koril stood and looked at her to follow him upstairs, but that strange expression he had seen on her just a few minutes earlier had returned. He searched her eyes intently, wordlessly asking what was bothering her so.
She spent a few moments forming words but making no sound before finally finding her voice. "I met your Ghost Heir."
It took a moment for him to comprehend what she had said. He furrowed his brows. "...Just now?" After looking behind him into the main foyer to see it vacant, he turned back to her, still confused. She simply nodded and still seemed reluctant.
"She had come for your crest, but left when I told her..."
"...She?" Again, Elena nodded. He wasn't sure what his expression was, but hers was pained as tense moments passed.
"Deil," Elena said finally, and she seemed to hold her breath. Koril felt like his had been knocked out of him.
"My sister?" He had been told his twin sister Deil had died when they were born because she wasn't strong enough to survive their prematurity. If she had been chosen to be their Ghost Heir... Elena interrupted his thoughts.
"I tried to get her to stay." He shook his head, struggling to find his own voice.
"She couldn't; unless I go to them, the Ghost Heirs and Known Heirs can't be in the same location." His mind was reeling. So Deil was his generation's heir. She must be the Tyro. He wished he could've talked to her, he had so many questions...
Elena began to walk out of the hall down the staircase, and he followed. She stepped over to a wall and knelt down, inspecting it.
"She came in through here, some kind of removable panel with a passageway behind it."
"Must be something else I don't know about," he said angrily, though he instantly regretted it. He hadn't meant to sound so malicious; Elena barely masked her own surprise. He turned away, frustrated with himself. It wasn't her fault his father had lied to him about so much. As he started to turn back to apologize, she was already at his side, looking up at him with soft, compassionate eyes that required no apology. Instantly his anger melted, and he sighed, doing his best to not think about it.
"Come on," he said quietly as he offered her his hand. "I'll take you to your room. Sol said you didn't sleep during the trip." Her icy fingers interlocked with his as they began walking towards the turbolift. She shrugged.
"I was more concerned with making sure you were alright."
A pair of guards saluted Koril and nodded to Elena as he led her into the turbolift. "But couldn't you have at least slept a little?" She stood beside him and looked up at him, and seeming suddenly tired, she smiled wanly.
"I meditated. I was okay." Satisfied, Koril nodded after a moment and pressed the fourth floor button on the control panel. The lift quietly hummed as they ascended, but he could only hear the thud of his pulse pounding in his ears. She only had to look at him with the tiniest smile to send his heart into a frenzy. It took them both a full second longer to realize that the lift had stopped and the doors had opened. A guard standing at his post beside the lift peered inside, curious when no one stepped out. Elena looked at Koril expectantly; he had almost forgotten where they were headed.
The fourth floor hall was darker and narrower than the others. The lower floors had more rooms, but at the cost of space; these rooms were larger, more furnished, and more intimate.
Koril led Elena past a few of the rooms, some of the ten that had rarely been used while he had lived there with his father and mother. Each had different functions depending on the necessity: friends needing a place to stay for the night, family visiting for a few weeks, and other various personal needs. The room he stopped at, though, he hadn't seen in six years since his mother Lori had died. Koril knew Merli'il had kept the room as Lori had, but as he pressed the panel beside the door to open it, he expected he'd be just as surprised as Elena to see what lay inside it.
And surprised he was. Nothing was as he remembered it, not even the furniture arrangement. Elena stepped inside to observe it, releasing his hand as she strode over to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out onto the twinkling night, framed by Dalon's elegant skyscrapers and the Naeron Mountains in the distance. Curious, Koril quietly stepped over to a clothes dresser nearby and pulled a drawer out as stealthily as possible. There were a few pieces of clothing, nondescript but comfortable shirts and light pants, the usual supplies for a guest room. He guessed they'd be a little baggy on her, but he had yet to see her wearing something other than her Jedi tunic.
Again, she seemed to be reading his thoughts. "Those will work fine," she said from behind him. He turned after shutting the drawer.
"Standard guest provisions, sorry," he said despite her previous statement. "I'll see if a couple of the hands can't get a few nicer things." She smiled a little and shook her head.
"I said, they're fine." Her smile faded just slightly as they locked gazes. Her whisper sounded so distant. "You don't have to go out of your way for me."
"Yeah," he answered simply. "I do."
He watched her eyes meander from his to his forehead, his scar that so painfully reminded him of all that had happened over the past week. Her expression became indiscernible once more, as if she felt his emotions and was dealing with her own, as well. Her cold hand found his and he struggled to respond with a faint smile.
"My room's just down the hall, the last on the right, if you need anything."
Elena nodded after a moment and rose up on her toes to kiss him. With a hand on the side of her face, he leaned in to accommodate her, helping it last as long as possible.
