Paneau: capital city of Dalon
Rys'tihn Manor
2.5 APC - 8 months prior

Even though he knew she wouldn't be getting his messages until she left to return home, sending them anyway made him feel better.

Rech Natiyr sat back from the comm console in his room he and his family were living in within the Rys'tihn Manor. He had just finished another message to his wife Mand, telling her for the dozenth time how much he missed her, but also how proud of her he was, and how much he loved her. She had been gone more than two months, but it seemed like much longer.

It had been a year since the troubles with the Huxnel Remnant and their destructive drones that plagued the Paneau system, and the conflict had been costly for almost all involved. Salastryn, Paneau's closest neighbor, had lost its Chief Vizier Brandalton in the Huxnel's first deadly strike on Demmar. Brandalton had been one of Paneau's good friends, maintaining positive relations even through the recent government upheaval. His rank was roughly equivalent to that of Koril's, Paneau's Head of Security, and Rech knew that losing that link to Salastryn had been hard for Paneau to adjust to.

Demmar had suffered, too. Even though it was their First Regent Onndo who had brought the Huxnel to Paneau in the first place, they took his life before they left, leaving Demmar in shambles. It had taken several months to get the city of Wray back up and running after its power grid had been disabled, and even longer to get the new First Regent, Sado Qi, installed and established to replace Onndo.

Despite not losing any officials, Paneau's price was still a heavy one, having lost almost half of its Royal Navy starfighters in the final offensive that rid the sector of the Huxnel drones. The New Republic was slowly replacing the ones that were beyond repair, but thankfully the Royal Navy hadn't been needed in the mean time. Recovery had been gradual but steady; life had carried on...

Except for the one life that had meant so much to him.

When Mand had told him that she was pregnant over a year ago, he thought of nothing else, and he couldn't have been more excited or elated during those few precious weeks. Cordira wasn't his biological daughter, but he loved her just the same. Their recent troubles, though, had kept him from her for months at a time. He had missed most of her developmental milestones, and though sometimes he couldn't have helped it, he still felt guilty. The two-and-a-half-year-old girl deserved better from him, and he felt like a second child for him and Mand was a second chance for him to be the father he knew he could be. But before they had even discussed names, though, her body had cruelly rejected the child, destroying their hopes.

Mand had been understandably devastated, traumatized so deeply, she had been locked in a coma-like state for hours, completely unresponsive to anything he said to her. She had shut him out for what felt like an agonizing eternity, which almost hurt more than the loss itself. And later when she had suddenly masked her presence in the Force...he thought her dead, and nothing had crushed him more than the reality that he had lost them both within hours of each other. No amount of training could have prepared him to deal with that kind of grief, but finding her alive had been somewhat bittersweet; she had intentionally blocked him in her own guilt and sorrow. She later apologized for it as she recovered from her skull fracture that he had healed, but she struggled for months to forgive herself. He could only be patient as she worked through it on her own, and she seemed to be doing well enough so far.

Her focus recently, though, had been on training. She had fought a Dark Jedi among the Huxnel Remnant, and when he had bested her and escaped, she blamed herself for not being able to stop him. She took up frequent and intense physical fitness sessions, as well as a number of meditations every day, preparing herself to face whatever trials were awaiting her on Coruscant.

Trials that he, too, had faced.

Perhaps hers would be different, though, he thought, since she was seeking Knighthood. His trials had been set up to test him, forcing him to demonstrate his worthiness of retaining his Knight title he already had. He even had to complete a final test out in the field, using his healing techniques to the best of his ability. Mand's strength's were in battle and mental discipline, though, so he was unsure what kind of trials to which she'd be subjected.

Two months seemed to stretch on forever, and it seemed like an exceptionally long time to be tested, but maybe that was good. If they were being so thorough, that meant they were impressed enough by her to make sure they understood every facet of her abilities. She had wanted nothing more than to earn the right to carry a lightsaber again, and she was finally getting the chance to prove herself. He just wished it wouldn't have taken so long...

In the dimly lit room behind him, he heard Cordira softly humming to herself, quietly announcing that she was awake for the day. She had been surviving well enough in Mand's absence, but he could tell the girl had been more reserved and more observant of her surroundings without her mother's presence to comfort her. The two were so closely connected that even Mand's most fleeting sad thought or anxious worry easily soured Cordira's mood. He was both saddened and grateful to have not been with Cordira when Mand "died"; the agony of her terrified screams coupled with his own anguish would have been too much.

He stood from his seat and stepped over to her crib, finding her sitting up and facing him as she anticipated his attention. Seeing him, she smiled broadly and gripped the railings to pull herself up onto her feet, looking up at him with her luminous gray eyes.

"Hi, Daddy," she greeted him excitedly, bouncing in eagerness that made him laugh. Her fine, fire-red hair sat atop her shoulders, hardly tousled by sleep.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he returned as he gently lifted her up into his arms. He kissed her on the cheek, as he did every morning, and she happily reciprocated with a kiss on his nose. "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded, but with her arms clasped tightly around his neck, she began looking around their room, seemingly anxious to find something.

"Where Taunty?"

Her stuffed tauntaun Elena had given her after she was born had gone through numerous name changes in the past few weeks. He looked around, too.

"I don't know. Did you leave him downstairs in the playroom?"

Her eyes were beginning to sadden, but she pointed excitedly across the room, instantly brightening her face. "There!"

Though he hadn't noticed it when he woke up earlier in the morning, the plush animal was laying on Mand's untouched side of their bed. He walked over to it and handed it to her as she giggled.

"Mommy taked him."

Though he thought it strange, since he remembered putting the tauntaun in bed with Cordira when he laid her down for the night, he shook his head, correcting her grammar. "No, Mommy didn't take him. She's not home yet."

But clinging tightly to her toy, she suddenly whined sadly as she leaned forward in his arms, kicking her legs to be put down. He complied, watching her run around the corner into the lounge. Her sudden mood change concerned him; she hadn't seemed upset much at Mand's extended absence yet, so he followed her, hoping to calm her.

"Cordira, she'll be home soon. Tell you what..."

He was beginning to make a bargain with her when he realized that not only could he not see her in the room anywhere...he couldn't sense her, either. She, too, had learned how to hide herself in the Force? How? She was only two and a half! Fighting panic, he began looking around the tables and couches for her.

"No hiding, Cordira. Come on, it's time for breakfast. Let's go downstairs, and you can play with Derek."

Finally finding her crouched in a corner behind a large chair, he bent down closer to her, watching her sad eyes scan him.

"Why Mommy hide?"

He knew he couldn't answer her question in a way she could understand, making him sigh. "She'll be back soon," he repeated, though he was sure it wouldn't satisfy her; he wondered if she was aware of the question she was actually asking. Still, as he held his hand out to her, he lightened his expression and his voice. "I know you're hungry. Let's go eat, okay?"

Though she took his hand and walked with him downstairs, her expression remained the same until she saw Kollie carrying 18-month-old Derek Rys'tihn into the main banquet hall for their breakfast, too. Thankful for the distraction her friend brought her, he sighed again as he watched her and collected a plate of her favorite fruits for her to eat when she returned to the table.

As Elena snatched their last bag away from an unsuspecting Royal Guard, Koril could barely contain a laugh.

"I can get it, thank you," she told the guard curtly, and when he looked to Koril with concern, the High Commander waved it off by shaking his head with a grin. The guard still looked upset, seemingly thinking he had offended Elena, but as they continued on into the Manor, he stayed behind, stationed at the hall's entrance. Koril glanced back at him briefly, then turned to Elena, walking at his side.

"I take you away for one week, and you're back to square one? At least you said 'thank you'."

She gave him a slightly annoyed look. "I haven't done anything for seven days. I can carry my own bag."

Koril smiled, thinking back on the past week they had just spent on the gas giant Bespin for their honeymoon. It was a year late, but they had been forced to wait until things had settled down on Paneau. There were still plenty of recovery efforts going on, namely among the Royal Navy, but at least most of their daily operations were back to normal.

Cloud City had been an absolutely breathtaking place to stay, and it was exciting for him, as well. Almost every day, they enjoyed serene, romantic meals in the opulent upper levels, and around sunset, he took Elena out in an airspeeder, leisurely flying among the orange-red clouds. It was so relaxing, so freeing, and being able to share that much quiet, carefree time with her as he hadn't in a while was all the honeymoon he needed. She had enjoyed it, too, but he knew she was anxious to get back to work, and to their son Derek.

It had been hard enough to convince her to leave him behind; it had taken their friend Rech's intervention to change her mind. He knew her agitation at the guard had just been the release of built up anticipation, and they were almost inside...

She must have noticed his grin. "What?" she asked with a bemused expression of her own. He simply shook his head, though, unwilling to state the obvious. As she looked ahead once more at the door they were approaching that would open up to the Manor's rear foyer, her expression neutralized.

"I hope he's okay."

Tautly tugging the bag strap he had slung over his opposite shoulder, he took her hand and folded his fingers with hers.

"He's fine, Elena," he reassured her. "Rech would have told us if anything was wrong."

Still, she looked worried as the door opened and they stepped inside to the salute of another set of guards. It was the longest she had been away from the toddler since his birth, but he hadn't expected it to affect her so. She had told him some time ago that she and Derek shared a special bond in the Force; maybe she just hadn't been aware of how tightly they were connected.

A crowd of smiling people met them as they rounded the main staircase in the Manor's atrium, but both he and Elena first noticed Derek as he took quick, wobbly steps toward them in excitement. Elena's face immediately lit up in a bright smile as she released Koril's hand and dropped the bag at her side, kneeling and extending her arms toward the boy. He laughed happily as she pulled him tightly into her arms, stood, and kissed him on his cheeks repeatedly, and he squealed as Koril leaned in and kissed him on the head, too. Koril gently ruffled the boy's dark hair before turning to look at the others who were patiently watching them.

Among a few of his Royal Guards stood Kollie and Raen, Derek's caretakers, Rech Natiyr with his daughter Cordira in his arms, the Manor's new Security Chief and recently promoted Major Aurin Jax, and beside him someone Koril hadn't expected to see: one of King Verojec's aides, Arcetri Thia. She was a mild, quiet official whose youthful looks were deceiving; Koril knew her as Governor Tomarken's secretary more than ten years ago. Though neither looked overly anxious to talk to him, the aide's presence alone was curious.

"Welcome back, you two," Rech greeted them with a smile. "How was it?"

Koril grinned. "Ask her how much fun she didn't have."

Though initially indignant at him, a smile eventually spread across her face, too, as she turned to Rech. "We had a wonderful time. I was just...a little distracted, that's all."

Shaking his head, Koril laughed a little as he turned to Jax. "Major?"

Jax nodded with a small smile of his own. "Everything's been fine here, Sir. Quiet, actually."

"That's good," Koril answered, and as Jax noticed Koril's attention on Thia beside him, his expression fell.

"King Verojec has requested to see you both."

Though she had been bouncing Derek at her side, Elena immediately looked between them with concern. "Is something wrong?"

Thia spoke up calmly, her voice soft yet expressionless. "I'm afraid I cannot say. His Highness sent me with instructions to collect you as soon as you returned."

Koril exchanged a worried glance with Elena, and after a moment, she nodded.

"We're not dressed for an audience with the King... Give us a few minutes to change."

Thia agreed, bowing respectfully. "I will await your return at my shuttle in your hangar."

As Thia left with guards, Rech stepped forward to gather Derek into his hold opposite Cordira, freeing Elena. "Just go," he offered kindly, "we'll bring in the rest of your things."

Koril nodded and passed his bag to Jax who had stepped up beside him. "Major, have Lt. Hetcher tend to the Celestia. I want her ready to go before we get back."

"Yes, Sir," Jax responded immediately, pulling the strap over his shoulder. With another round of quick kisses and ruffling Derek's hair, the two left hand in hand for their room to change from their traveling attire.

Coruscant
New Jedi Temple
2.5 APC


Completely shutting out all sound, all light, all sensations, even the strong, swelling presences in the Force that surrounded her in the Temple was proving to be more difficult than she had anticipated. She was focused, but there was always something preventing her from reaching total calm within herself, no matter how deeply she searched. All her recent training and trials under the careful scrutiny of a handful of Jedi Masters over the past two months had led up to this point...but she was stalling out.

Mand Natiyr sat opposite Chiss Jedi Master Strone Lithess in a dim, silent meditation room. With her eyes closed, she was unable to see the Master in front of her, but she could easily feel his glowing crimson gaze burning into her as she tried to center herself. The closing exercise made her intensely curious...and exceptionally cautious; what were they looking for from her? So far she had done perfectly everything they had asked of her, but this meditation was her final evaluation? She tried to come up with some reason to explain it, but nothing made sense.

"Mand," Master Lithess finally broke the silence with his low, penetrating voice. "You're holding back."

Surprised by his accusation, she looked up at him and squarely met his gaze, doing her best to disguise her confusion. His expression was stoic as usual, but at least the tone of his voice wasn't...negative, but merely stating a fact. Unsure of what to say, she remained quiet, allowing him to continue instead.

"You have passed all the trials we've given you, and you have performed well," he explained as though he were reading her thoughts. "But," he paused to emphasize his words, "you have only performed well enough, just the minimum to get by. You're withholding."

With their gazes still locked together, Mand swallowed, finding her throat suddenly dry as she realized what he was saying. She was the only barrier to her own progress, and she hadn't even recognized that she was the one who was holding herself back. As she thought about it, she knew the reason. It had been haunting her subconscious for so long...

"Yes, Master," she answered him simply, agreeing with his statement.

His tone didn't change. "Why?"

She released a slow breath, hoping her tension would leave with it. "Because I don't trust it."

"Trust what?"

Her hands shook in her lap... "The source of my power." Finally breaking eye contact, she looked down and to the side at the dark floor, her voice soft. "I haven't since...I broke Tzan's control over me three years ago."

As she looked back up to Lithess, she found his expression contemplative, but he remained quiet for several moments, heightening her anxiety.

"So much has happened since then."

Such a plain sentence held such terrible weight as her recent past flashed through her mind in rapid succession, reminding her of the best and worst of the past three years of her life. She certainly wasn't proud of some of the things she had done: her father's death at her hands, her newly developed skill of completely shrouding herself from others in the Force, her destructive Shockwave... She had at least harnessed the Shockwave's power and could control its release, but she had used it against her enemies and her friends alike.

"Do you believe your accomplishments to be failures?"

She couldn't definitively answer either way.

"My intentions were never pure."

The Chiss Jedi Master arched an eyebrow, the most expression she had seen from him in a while. "Really? Even when you held back five Huxnel ships to save your friends?"

Again unable to meet his gaze, she looked aside as the memories of that painful night returned.

"I was angry," she began quietly. "I was angry that those drones were going to attack our unsuspecting Paneau fighters. Our pilots were defenseless, in a way, unable to see the drones on their scopes. It wasn't going to be a fair fight, and I had to protect my friends."

Lithess was quiet once more for several moments, considering her response with a neutral expression. His silence was so frustrating. What was going through his mind?

"I do not believe that you drew on dark power to halt them, Mand. The root of your intent was to help, to protect, and nothing is more innocent or selfless. You were even wounded, and still you managed to stop them. That in itself is quite a feat."

Though she still didn't agree, he hadn't finished speaking.

"I have already told you how impressed I was with your actions here on Coruscant a little over a year ago. You had dozens of Tzymo Labs guards chasing you and firing at you relentlessly. You easily could have punished them and returned their own bolts back to them, but you didn't. You protected yourself, and you did so without retaliating. I know Jedi Masters who can only wish they had that kind of mental and physical discipline. Such restraint is not an easy skill to teach, and it is an even harder skill to master, especially in the middle of those dire circumstances you faced.

"I do not believe there is darkness within you, Mand," he concluded softly, "only doubt."

To her, they were synonymous. If she was never sure how her true emotions were affecting her power, how could she know if she was or wasn't falling into the Dark Side? Feeling even more lost and definitely unworthy of his praise, she looked to the floor again, hardly able to keep her voice from shaking.

"What am I to do, then, Master?"

For a moment, the Master's only response was silence as he stood from his seat, and she scrambled to follow his lead. He looked over her expression, seemingly deciphering it...

"In order to complete your training, you must...train."

Mand furrowed her brows. Train for what? More trials? More assessments? Except for the obscure, gray-zone Force skills, she had demonstrated almost everything she had in her arsenal: speed, strength, control, agility, sight, reflexes...

Though Lithess could very plainly see the confusion on her face, he remained quiet as he stepped to his side and looked back at a closed door behind him. A moment later, a young girl Mand immediately recognized stepped through the doorway and stopped at his side, smiling pleasantly.

"Ri," Mand greeted her with a similar smile, but it quickly faded as she looked back up at Lithess and realized what he was asking of her.

She struggled for the right words. "Master, I -- she deserves a proper teacher, one who--"

"You two are well-suited for each other," Lithess interrupted, placing his hand lightly on the girl's shoulder. "You will both learn from and grow with each other, and you no doubt will rediscover your confidence, Mand. She is a willing learner, and you may be surprised what teaching another will teach you about yourself."

Despite still being intent on arguing, she kept her expression light for the seven-year-old Paneau Princess. Ri's bright brown eyes were alight with excitement at the prospect of learning the ways of the Jedi, and Mand knew she had been eager to since her mother's death in the Dalon Palace Collapse three years ago. And though Rech had suggested the arrangement in the past, Mand had hoped someone else would be responsible for Ri's tutelage.

"In the eyes of the Order, Mand, you are a Jedi Knight now. You have shown over the past two months, and really, over the past three years, your ability to adapt to situations and to do so with great discipline. Such is the way of the Jedi: to protect and to defend, and to improve oneself.

"Tradition would dictate this progression," Lithess continued, "that you would be Knighted in a formal ceremony upon your completion of the construction of your lightsaber. However, that, too, will be a task you and Ri will complete together at a later time. Until then, you will carry this."

From his belt hidden by his heavy brown robe, Lithess pulled a lightsaber hilt off its clip and held it out to her. His own weapon was still attached to his belt on the opposite side, though, and as Mand looked it over, she felt her breath freeze in her chest as she recognized it.

It was the late Jedi Master Aalon Noor's blue-bladed lightsaber.

"No," she answered softly as she shook her head. "I can't take it."

"Kihara insists, Mand."

A trembling breath escaped her as he named Kihara Marelleck, her friend and fellow Jedi who had searched for her almost as tirelessly as Rech and Noor had after her kidnapping years ago. Working together so closely during the search had tightly linked Noor and Kihara, and even though they had parted before their daughter Danyielle's birth, Mand knew Noor's sacrificial death had been hard on Kihara. How could she give away his lightsaber?

"No, she should keep it safe somewhere for Dany to carry when she's old enough."

"And what good would it do in the interim, going unused for years?" Lithess mused with weight. "You need a weapon, Mand, especially in light of your recent encounters, so until you build your own, you will have this."

Again taking on another man's lightsaber as her own made her feel somewhat cheated, but at least with Noor's weapon, she was honored to be presented with it. Her first lightsaber had belonged to her former master, a Dark Jedi who had died shortly after her defection from the Huxnel to the Paneau and to the Jedi. Before she could complete her training at the Jedi Academy, she had been kidnapped on Coruscant, and four years of her life slipped by her. Somehow she still possessed the weapon after her rescue, and she ended up taking her villainous father's life with it, leaving it at his side as a way to purge herself of her past. She had looked forward to crafting her own lightsaber, one to be proud of as she embarked on new missions, but again, her plans had been changed.

Though still feeling undeserving, she nodded slightly as she took the lightsaber from Lithess, her skin tingling as the coolness of the hilt's solid metal casing chilled her palm. She turned it over in her hand, studying its design and grip, and she was surprised at its heft in her grasp that felt so...natural. It seemed sturdy, reliable...a weapon that would reward its owner with added strength and grace. It had served Noor well in his final duel with a Dark Jedi, and though the thought made Mand close her eyes in sorrow at his death, a soothing calmness slowly filled her and seemed to ease her aching. She had to smile a little, believing Noor's Force Spirit to be at work within her, and looking back up at Lithess and Ri, she nodded strongly as she clipped the weapon to her own belt, accepting her new title and her new apprentice.

And hardly detectable at the corners of Lithess' mouth were the makings of a proud, albeit small smile.