"Be happy. It's one way of being wise."
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
"Commander Cody!"
Maybe it was because of the jovial nature of the meeting, but Rys' enthusiastic greeting was the warmest Cody had encountered yet from a fellow clone. The former commander watched in surprise, as his brother strode confidently across the room toward him. A one-time member of the Coruscant Guard, Rys had been one of Thire's "boys". This would have usually meant that Cody wouldn't have ever really interacted with him, since the former commander's visits to Coruscant were rare to begin with and if he did ever associate with the Guard, it was usually only with those under Fox's command.
But, Rys and Cody had met a few of the times that Obi-Wan or some senatorial type had needed escorts to and from the Temple and the Senate. Cody had liked the man - which was more than could be said for many of the Coruscant Guard under Thire or Stone's command, who could often be a little condescending. Rys had always been professional, punctual, and polite - he had also exhibited quite a keen interest in the events unfolding in the Outer Rim and had been able to carry on an intelligent conversation. Rys had always impressed Cody as being a competent, dependable, intelligent, likeable soldier.
"It's good to see you here, sir," the newly-minted father squatted down against his heels and held out his hand toward Cody.
There was respect in the brother's eyes, but there was no longer the deferential politeness of rank between them. Rys held out his hand as an equal and Cody knew what had made him bold, what had made him into a man who carried himself in the security of his authority. Beskar'gam bracers cupped the curves of Rys' forearm and blasters hung securely at each hip.
Rys had joined the Mando'ad, married into the clan, and fathered a child to it. In Cody's humble opinion, the former trooper was now his own equal and far more. A brief smile curved the corners of Cody's lips as he reached out and grasped Rys' arm firmly, in the manner that he had seen Saa do on multiple occasions.
"It's good to see you alive," Cody asserted with genuine conviction; even in his days of drunken, drug-induced hazes, he had wondered about what had happened to those brothers he had met and served with during the Wars.
He remembered every name, every face. He remembered that Rys had always hero-worshiped him in a way. It had always been an honor for the trooper to sit with the once-famous commander in the course of their duties and to ask him questions. It had always been an honor for Cody to sit with Rys and be reminded that the sacrifices made on the Outer Rim were not forgotten by those who served safely behind the lines.
"Same to you, sir," Rys grinned, but there was a somber glint in his eyes that belied his own private concerns about those he had left behind.
The two grasped each other's forearms tightly and Cody felt the old comfort of brotherhood in a way he hadn't felt since Order 66. Rys was truly the first clone who had greeted him as a welcome reminder of the past. Korbin had been borderline hateful, Fives had been hostile, Ferro had been passively neutral, and even Kix, while accepting, had kept a respectful distance reminiscent of their former ranks. Rys smiled and turned to introduce Cody to his glowing wife, Candeera, and to their as-yet-unnamed baby girl.
Rys was glad to have him there, relieved to see that Cody was still alive and in the flesh. The former commander realized that if Rys had escaped at Order 66, then he would know nothing of Utapau - he would know nothing of what Cody had become, of how hard the former commander had fallen. And, because of that blissful ignorance, Rys still respected him, still looked up to him.
It was a humbling thing to realize that there were still brothers who were willing to trust him, still willing to defer to him, still willing to remember him as the soldier he had been.
There was a pile of empty cushions next to Cody; Rys and his family chose to sit there, next to the one-time commander. Cody glanced nervously over toward Sol and the burly Mandalorian was now watching him with a thoughtful, calculating expression on his dark face. Rys was saying something about Cody's character by sitting next to him - though Cody didn't think the effusive brother meant anything intentional by his choice in seating arrangements, the choice had still earned him a silently shifting regard in the respect of Clan Kelborn. He glanced nervously at Saa, who merely offered him the ghost of a smile and nodded once as if to say, "accept the honor."
Now that the guests of honor had arrived, dishes from the kitchen began to make their appearance. First came tiingilar, but in smaller portions than before - it was presented almost as an appetizer, a culinary status that was confirmed by Sol.
"Just a little bit, to cleanse the palate and clear our heads of all the good beer we've been drinking," the Kelborn patriarch winked, as he took a small dish of the spicy casserole and savored it with obvious enjoyment.
Haarshun bread and red gourd soup was next, followed by an overwhelming array of dishes from every home world represented in the gathering room. Fives was an enthusiastic fan of the dark, thick Alderaan stew, which was made with a heavy beer, salted meat, and canned winter vegetables. Cody was rather enamored by the chili dumplings, which were served by themselves with a spicy sauce in the traditional Anobian manner. Rowin, however, thoroughly enjoyed his Zygerrian-style kommerken steak, which had been broiled in a rich mixture of herbs and butter.
There were Twi'lek curries, Koruun casseroles, Arkanian pastas, and Zabrak sweet breads. Dra'buir even presented Rowin with a plate of pickled nerf hocks - a delicacy, apparently, on his own home world. Lorrdian "rock candies" were a big hit with the youngest members of the celebration, though little Ven fell asleep against her father's shoulder before she could eat enough candies to make it to a sugared second wind. Her brother had however, which lead the youngling to pick a mock wrestling match with Tor. The muscular Zygerrian, in a rare show of indulgence, let the diminutive Zabrak "pin" him to the floor to the amusement of all.
Numa sat quietly in between Drali and Ala - the older Twi'lek was lightly brushing something over Numa's lekku that made the faint stripes on her skin stand out in a soft shimmer. Cody arched an eyebrow and glanced over at Fives, whose attention had been appropriately redirected when his young charge had chosen to sit with strangers. Cody was surprised to see that a thoughtful look had crept into his brother's dark eyes; when the ARC realized he was being watched, the look faded abruptly and he shrugged his shoulders gruffly.
"She's growing up," despite his shift in body language, there was no hiding the wistful quality of his voice.
"What's Ala doing?" Cody asked innocently.
"Some sort of Twi'lek beauty...thing..." Fives fumbled for the right words; he shrugged his broad shoulders as if to admit that the ways of females were beyond him. "We visited a port once and there was a beauty vendor offering to do it. Numa begged Boil, but he wouldn't budge. Said she wasn't old enough," the ARC turned his head away as if to hide the sudden regret in his face. "Guess she is, after all."
Cody turned his head and glanced at Rys, who now had a little female of his own. The former Guardsman just grinned and shook his head; he shot a fond glance at Candeera and then down at the tiny newborn that was nursing quietly at her mother's breast.
"Guess we'll cross that bridge ourselves, one day," Rys couldn't hide his goofy, lopsided grin; Candeera chuckled herself and spoke for the first time.
"If she's anything like her father, she'll think 'beauty' is well-polished armor," the half-Lorrdian, half-Koruun's voice was husky for a woman, but light.
The two shared a smile and Rys leaned over to kiss his wife impulsively on the lips. He lingered there and Cody looked away, feeling something like a voyeur. He longed for Tay in that moment - for her soft lips and softer body - and his eyes slipped back, unbidden, toward the nursing baby.
She had skin the color of sun-kissed Dathomir amber - a soft, gently-tinted mixture of her mother's caf-and-cream tones and her father's natural tan. Her tiny head was already covered with a downy plethora of wispy black hair; Cody wondered if the youngling would have her mother's hazel eyes or the darker eyes of a clone.
She was slight and delicate, nestled protectively within the sinewy strength of her mother's bare arms. Rys sat strong and proud next to them both; his eyes rarely left the sight of his daughter falling asleep with her tiny rosebud mouth still latched around her mother's nipple. In a way, the sight was provocative, but on a level far too primal to be sensual. It was love, and yearning, and tenderness, and improbability - it was all of life's turbulent creations distilled into one tiny form, one magnificent miracle.
At Candeera's subtle, non-verbal request, Rys reached over and gently pulled his daughter away from her abandoned meal. Her mother efficiently covered herself in a brisk, no-nonsense manner that left very little doubt in minds of any one watching that she was a mother giving sustenance to her child and proud of the role she played as such. Rys cradled his daughter in hands that Cody had seen hold a weapon with just as much confidence; it was a strange juxtaposition to see.
Rys was a clone - once one of Coruscant's finest. He was still, very clearly, in perfect fighting form, as muscular and masculine as ever. His daughter lay cradled against his bulging bicep and just one of his big hands engulfed her tiny form with ease. In that moment, though, he was not a fighter, but a father - gentle in a way that Cody had never before seen in a fellow clone.
The former commander looked down at his own hands. What would it be like to hold a youngling in his scarred hands – to hold his youngling? Would a child of his inherent Tay's beautiful white locks, or his own coarse, black hair? Perhaps a mixture of both? He had heard or read somewhere once that half-Miralukans were often born blind - born with eyes, unlike one parent, but unable to see, like the other. Cody wondered what color his child's eyes would be - dark like his? Maybe blue, like he imagined Tay's would be, if she had any. Would he have a boy, or a girl? Would it matter to him?
It didn't seem to matter to Rys. The persona of a clone was so seeped in masculinity, in maleness, that it was almost more of a miracle to have a half-clone daughter. Would she grow up strong and stubborn, like her father? Would she have his broad shoulders, his fighter's rangy body? Would she bring her own beauty to a form that was only all too familiar to the galaxy? Would she bring a softness, a gentleness, to a gene pool that had been far too often associated with death and darkness?
What would he do with a daughter? With a son? Cody could barely imagine what it would be like to be a father. Yet, it had been the secret longing of many clones - it had often been his secret longing. Cody watched the sleeping babe thoughtfully and tried to imagine what it would be like to hold his own child so confidently against his body.
Light, gentle music drifted slowly over the moment and Cody looked up to see Sheresh strumming a large string instrument that she held propped up between her shoulder and her thigh. Food and drink still made its way around the room, but the boisterousness of earlier had abated slightly. The half-Zeltron was watching the baby as well, the expression on her face unashamedly wistful as her fingers danced in confident familiarity over the stringed "neck" of her kitar.
A sleepy, almost contemplative mood had fallen over the gathering room, but Cody could sense an undercurrent of tradition and expectation. A large bowl was making it rounds and the scent of salt and butter mingled in the air with the music. Everyone took a handful of something out of the bowl and when it made it around to him, Cody realized that it was full of something white, fluffy, and crispy.
"Popped dust corn kernels," Kar piped up; a cheeky smile brightened his dusky-green complexion. "A Mirialan treat."
Cody took a handful and passed the bowl on - the delicate stuff crunched together under his fingers and the clone took a moment to consider what he held. An investigative nibble revealed that the treat had very little flavor in and of itself, but it had a good crunch, and had been seasoned well with a mixture of melted butter and sea salt. He also realized, as Sol shifted in his power chair and turned his prodigious attention toward Saa, that the passing of the popped treat was merely the prelude to an austere event.
"So, Alor Par'jain, your reputation as a story-teller precedes you," the Kelborn patriarch addressed Saa formally, in what Cody assumed must have been a traditional speech. "Because of the Empire's presence in Creedee, we are not able to have our own alor here tonight to tell our newest clan member her first history," the whole gathering room seemed to hold its breath. "Would you do us the honor, Alor Par'jain, as friend of Clan Kelborn?"
Saa allowed for the appropriate moment of anticipatory silence, before slowly nodding his head and accepting the honor so graciously extended to him.
"It would be Clan Par'jain's own honor."
Even though he had yet to assume the clan title as an official member, Cody felt his chest swell with pride. He didn't understand the ceremonial significance of the honor, but he could understand the honor itself. Saa, too, seemed taken by surprise by the request, but a thoughtful look had crossed his face as he sat silent for a moment longer.
"Sheresh's tune reminds me of a Shistavanen lullaby," Saa began, his voice deeper, richer, than Cody had ever heard before - it was the voice, he realized, of an experienced storyteller. "Which then reminds me of a tale my wife's father told at the adoption celebrations of both my Hella and my Mrov. So, forgive me, Clan Kelborn, if I break just slightly with tradition tonight and tell you all a tale of the Shistavanen and not of the Mando'ad," the elder Par'jain paused once more and added softly. "It is, however, a tale that I believe should become one of our own."
"Then tell it," Sol opened his hands wide in expansive permission. "So that it may become such."
Satisfied, Saa settled back in his cushions. Sheresh continued to strum quietly on the strings of her kitar; Cody would look back later and realize that the moment was a carefully choreographed one between story-teller and musician. Together, they created a space out of time, a moment that knew no temporal boundary.
To his surprise, however, Cody himself had a role to play in the telling.
"Cody," Saa startled him with his quiet command, but the former clone reacted instantly, directing his attention immediately toward his elder. "Unsheathe the knife Mal gave you."
Cody obeyed immediately, but his brows knitted together in puzzlement. Saa had once told him to keep the knife hidden, as it was a rare artifact and one that could easily gain unwanted attention. As he pulled it slowly out of the sheath that he had finally decided to keep permanently in his boot, Cody saw Kar shift forward with interest in order to see around Candeera. The clone shot the smuggler a dirty look, but the Mirialan's face was a study in innocence. Kar's blue eyes grew wide, though, as the knife slid free of its sheath and shone brilliantly in the comfortable, mellow light of the gathering room.
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Sol - like Kar - leaned forward in his chair, though his interest seemed far more professional and a lot less opportunistic.
"Sun-steel?" the Mandalorian's dark eyebrows rose high in incredulity.
"A gift from my late father-in-law," Saa nodded solemnly. "From him to Cody, exclusively."
"And there's a story in this, you say?" Sol settled back in his power chair, his expression mildly stunned; once again, his dark eyes turned toward Cody and their gaze was calculating.
In fact, Cody felt every eye on the room turn to him and he fiddled uncertainly with the handle of his perfectly balanced blade. Sheresh's music still whispered beneath the currents of interest and surprise, though, and Saa steered everyone's attention toward the telling of his tale with practiced ease.
"It is a story that has been told in the Shistavanen home system of Uvena since the dark days of the Sith Wars. Some say that the tale is a memory of those Wars and of the destruction that was left in their wake. Some say it is a race memory from a time more ancient than any that's ever been recorded. But, what isn't known is of very little importance to the telling of this tale," Saa steepled his fingers together under his chin as he spoke, his voice as wise and compelling as any Jedi master. "What is known is that it is a myth about the origins of sun-steel...and that it is a story of defiance and triumph. It is a story of rebellion."
"Once, there was a Shistavanen blacksmith by the name of Hov. Now, Hov was a master of his craft and was known throughout the Uvena worlds as a blacksmith of great renown. But, he was also a humble wolf - wise and cunning in spite of his youth. Like many blacksmiths, he lived by a stream - which should be noted, as this will play a part in the telling of our tale.
"Hov lived in a time when the galaxy was in ruins. Tales came through, from far-away worlds, brought by a few daring wolves who ventured out beyond the system at the urging of the clerics. For the clerics could sense something Dark brewing in the worlds beyond - a Darkness that hunted for prey that could never slake its hunger.
"But, for Hov and for most of his fellow wolves, the cares of the wider galaxy were left to those who had to care. Shistavanens lived as Shistavanens had always lived - quietly, without pride or war.
"Until, one day, Darkness dimmed the sun of Uvena Prime and Death came to stalk the Shistavanen. Prey was easy for Death and none could defy him. His very presence struck fear into the hearts of those who saw him coming, of those who dared to look into his face before he took their lives for food. It is said that he was dressed in robes as vast and Dark as the Black that lies at the edges of our galaxy. It is said that his face was painted red with the blood of those he slew and that his eyes were yellow suns of hate that consumed all that he desired.
"Death moved triumphant through the worlds of Uvena, until he came to Uvena Prime, to the mother world. There, he came across Hov, the blacksmith, working tirelessly at his forge.
"'You are a fool,'" Death proclaimed haughtily, as he stood at the door of Hov's shop and watched the wolf. "'Death knocks at your hearth and still you work?'"
"'I'm not dead yet,'" Hov retorted calmly, as he thrust a red-hot blade into a tank of water. "I make swords and spears and shields, for those who would oppose you.
"Death was so amused to hear this, that he threw back his awful head and laughed. Thunder rolled across the skies and lightening reached down to scorch the earth where he stood. But Death's display of power did not move Hov's spirit and the stout wolf kept pounding on his blade.
"'You dare presume to think that I can be 'opposed'?' Death thundered in his hideous voice; his eyes flashed bright at the challenge so calmly delivered.
"Hov merely shrugged his shoulders.
"'I'm not dead yet'," he repeated, unperturbed.
"'You amuse me, beast,' Death finally said after a ghastly silence. "'I will make a deal.'"
"'Name me your price,'" Hov finally looked up from his work and dared to stare Death in the face; he did not shake or shiver, but stood his ground.
"'I am Pestilence, and War, and Hatred, and Evil,'" Death hissed. "'Here is your deal, dog. Gather up a Light that may equal my Darkness and meet me a year and a day from hence. Meet me with the brilliance of a thousand suns and ifyoucan stand my equal, then I will leave your worlds in peace and never return.'"
"'I accept,'" Hov said simply and the deal was set.
"'Death walked among other worlds for that year and a day. And Hov stayed at his forge, hammering out every scrap of metal that was brought to his door. Word of his challenge spread through Uvena Prime and out to the other system worlds. When asked what could possibly be done to fulfill this impossible demand, Hov said only to bring him metal. And so, for a year, every able-bodied Shistavanen became a miner, digging deep into the earth for her bones. Hov called his apprentices to him and they worked tirelessly, making swords, shields, breastplates, helmets, and armor.
"Finally, a year passed and the day of reckoning came. Death walked once again on Uvena Prime, his Darkness billowing about him like a solar storm of endless rage. He called to Hov and taunted him - demanded to know where he was. But, it was only until the sun hung at the apex of the sky - at perfect noon - that a thousand armored Shistavanen marched out to meet Death on the Great Plain of Enipul. Hov marched at the front, his heart as steady as his step.
"For, Death in all of his arrogance, had made a mistake. He had done as Hov had guessed - he had gathered his Darkness all around him, to make himself appear more fierce-some. The sun remained high in the sky above Uvena Prime - and her rays blazed like fire across the polished helms and chests of a thousand armored wolves.
"The light from Hov's polished steel created a brilliance that blinded Death the moment he moved back his folds of Darkness to strike the blacksmith dead. Those who were there said later that Death's yellow eyes bled from the power of the sun. Death threw his arms across his face and screamed; he cowered in the face of Hov and his thousand suns.
"Hov and his wolves howled as they charged toward Death. Blinded, in pain, Death could not fight back as he would have once and even though wolves died at the hands of his sorcery, Death finally met his match in the brilliance of Hov's flashing blade. Death - in his incarnate form - would no longer walk through the worlds of the Shistavanen. And the Shistavanen made sure that he would walk no longer through the galaxies beyond.
"Now, we know that Death had sons and daughters and that they stalk the worlds in their father's vast void. But they no longer show their face, or taunt the living. The defeat of Death taught his children humility and also it taught every sentient wise enough to stand bold and brave, not to fear the Darkness.
"After the Great Battle of Enipul, Hov returned home. He took all of the swords, and spears, and helms that he had made and melted them down again to their basic liquid form. Then, he poured that ore into the stream that flowed by his forge - for peace had returned to Uvena Prime and there was no more need for the weapons of war.
"But, a curious thing happened, as Hov poured the liquid metal into his stream. You see, the light of the sun had flashed so brilliantly on Hov's forged plates of courage, that it had changed the very nature of the metal itself. The stream by Hov's house shone as brilliantly as the sun, as it carried the altered ore down through secret rivulets into the coldness of the earth below. There, those rivers froze over, hardening into sun steel, where their brilliance lit the darkness of the underworld.
"Hov never knew of this marvel - he lived out his days in quiet humility, with his forge, his wife, and his pups. But, his pups' pups discovered the reservoirs of sun steel that lay beneath their world and the legends spread again. Those who were brave enough to face the Darkness could harvest that precious ore and the sons of Hov could shape it into weapons once again. Wondrous weapons, that belonged in the hands of the brave, of the defiant - of those who would stand like a thousand suns and challenge Death to stand humbled in his place."
There was a profound silence after Saa finished his story. Even Sheresh had stopped strumming - the gathering room was perfectly still. Sol was the first to break the lull, deep his voice almost reverent.
"A story of rebellion indeed, Alor Par'jain," a pause. "You would grace our newest ad'ika with a tale of defiance?"
"She is the biological granddaughter of the very man who helped bring this galaxy to its knees," Saa replied with calm conviction. "I would grace every youngling born in these dark times with a tale of defiance. Perhaps, in defiance, we may forge a new hope."
Sol said nothing to this, but a fierceness flashed across his face and Cody knew that there could be no question about what side of the darkness Sol would align himself and his family. An unspoken alliance had just been forged, between the members of Clan Par'jain and Clan Kelborn - Cody hoped, in his heart, for the sake of his children, that such an alliance would not be needed. But, he also knew, in his heart, that for the sake of his children such an alliance may very well be all that stood between the Empire and the hope of a free galaxy.
"Candeera, Rys," Sol finally turned to the new parents and arched a single eyebrow upward toward his non-existent hairline. "This is the story that you will tell your daughter every year on her Naming Day. You have heard this tale of defiance, of rebellion. Do you accept it as your own - as a tale of the Mando'ad?"
"We accept," Rys and Candeera replied in unison; there was no hesitation and Cody saw the call of duty sharpen Rys' dark gaze.
The embers of the communal fire had softened during the length of Saa's tale and Cody's sun-steel blade shone brighter than ever in the cozy room. Cody saw his brother's eyes gravitate toward the blade, as he considered the sun-steel with an expression that was almost thoughtful.
"Having accepted this tale, is there a name that you would give your daughter, so that the Clans may know her?"
Rys' eyes never left Cody's naked blade; the sun-steel's light reflected deep within the former Guardsman's eyes.
"There is," Rys nodded slowly, his eyes never wavering once from the blade. "We will name her Nau'ur – a name that means to light up, to illuminate."
"By this name," Candeera interjected softly. "She will know her duty."
"She will illuminate the darkness," Rys finally looked up and something defiant, something rebellious, flashed like sun-steel across his face. "May our daughter be one of a thousand suns."
A/N: And this, Dear Reader, is a chapter that was nearly two years in the making. This is the crux of "A Thousand Suns" and the entire saga I have planned to follow. I hope Saa's Shistavanen tale has done justice the seeds of rebellion that have been quietly sown in the hearts of Cody and the others. And, I hope that this was a chapter well worth the wait and the build-up. ^^
Much love and thanks to LongLiveTheClones, who has graciously agreed to Beta for me. I couldn't ask for better!
Many hugs and love to my dedicated reader-reviewers: Agent ERA, Admiral Daala and Kiana Tavers-Mereel. You guys are the reason I keep writing. *hugs*
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