This story is a companion piece to one of my other fics, The Lands of the Dead, which is itself a prequel of sorts to Enter the Foreign. Prior reading not required, although context never hurts. While TLotD skewed more toward psychological horror, this one is a bit more of a coming-of-age story mixed with the high school fic from hell. It probably goes without saying that this will not be a happy fic.
Featuring the Super Evil Chaos Twins of Evil, Darth Ferrus and Darth Festus (OCs) before they became Sith Lords, as well as Jacen Solo (Darth Caedus) and a bunch of Sith OCs. Also appearances by Darth Krayt, Tionne Solusar, Allana Djo Solo, and a few other non-Sith ECs and OCs.
Summary: Problem child, worthless Jedi brat, dumb brute… Veeran Starskip has been called a lot of things in his life, but there's one name he'll make sure they never forget…
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Beneath the Gods of the Bright Sky
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Part One: Problem Child
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Veeran Starskip has always liked mornings.
"You rise with the sun," Master Tionne says to him often, usually with a luminous smile lighting her ageless face. She's kind of like a sunrise, he thinks. Warm and beautiful, and she shines in the Force like no one else he knows.
Most of the other kids wake up pretty early, but not like he does. No one else gets to spend those first few quiet minutes with her. He doesn't usually like the quiet, not like his brother does. He likes to run and jump and move, and he hardly ever wants to stop. But when those first rays of light peek out over the horizon, and he gets to sit still next to her? He doesn't mind it then. He actually kind of loves it.
Sometimes Master Kam joins them. He sits down next to them and puts a gentle hand on his shoulder; and even though Veeran can barely remember the parents he used to have, it's not hard to imagine what it might have been like when they sit here like this. In fact, sometimes he pretends Tionne and Kam are his parents.
Dorian would probably think so, too – that is, if his twin brother ever got up early enough to actually sit with them and see the sun rise.
Today it's just him and Master Tionne, sitting outside on one of the Jedi Academy's lower-level observation decks. "Dorian always sleeps in," he mutters as he kicks his heels back against the ledge.
"Your brother has an active imagination," Tionne says gently, "and it takes longer for his mind to settle at night."
He's not sure he likes the sound of that. "I have imagination, too," he says, frowning.
She reaches out a hand and ruffles his hair. "Of course you do, Veeran. All children do. And you'd have to be clever to come up with so many fantastic adventures. What was it yesterday?"
He looks out at the treeline, thinking. "We saved a king from some marauders." He looks up at Tionne and grins. "I saved the king."
"Hmm, that sounds very familiar." She gently taps the end of his nose. "So you were paying attention to my stories after all."
He ducks his head and pretends to push her hand away. "I always pay attention. Except for the boring ones."
She raises a hand to her mouth and gasps in mock horror. "You think I tell boring stories?"
He rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine, none of them are boring." He goes quiet for a minute, turning a question over in his mind. "Can I still live here when I'm older?"
"I thought you wanted to travel the stars and go on grand, heroic adventures?"
He can't explain the sudden knot in his chest. "I do," he says. He's supposed to want that, isn't he?
"I think you can live wherever you want to live, little one."
Her words are usually reassuring, but these ones don't strike the same chord. He looks down at his lap. "Most of the Knights don't live here. Or the Masters."
She puts one arm around him and hugs him against her side, and he doesn't pretend to be embarrassed by it. "This will always be your home." Her tone turns mischievous as she continues. "And whenever you finish with those heroic deeds, you can come right back here and help me with all these younglings."
His face screws up involuntarily as he imagines taking care of little kids all day. "No way!"
Tionne laughs and ruffles his hair again. He doesn't push her away this time, either. "Won't that be something, to see you all grown up? Veeran Starskip, Jedi Knight."
He smiles at that. He wishes it didn't take so long to get older. Waiting is the worst, and apart from these quiet mornings, he's never been good at sitting still.
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They come in the middle of the night.
He tries to be brave, like a Jedi should be, but it's dark and confusing, and he's never seen so many blasters before. He clings to Dorian's arm as they're herded into the common area on the main floor of the academy. He wonders where all the Masters are, before remembering that a bunch of them left yesterday for some important event on Coruscant. Something to do with Chief of State Solo.
The soldiers are quiet. He can't pick up individual emotions, but there's an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty from them. Why are they afraid? They're the ones with the blasters.
Then he senses her presence outside and hears her voice rising in anger, words indiscernible from this distance. He stands on his toes, trying to see past the taller apprentices in front of him. He catches a glimpse of the open door to the outer courtyard, and he sees her and Master Kam standing in front of a row of the oldest apprentices, the ones who are nearly ready for Knighthood. Opposite them is an even larger row of soldiers, blasters raised to chest level. The whole scene is bathed in glaring white light from above.
Without meaning to, he finds Dorian's hand and grips it hard. His brother squeezes back, and they both look around the room, trying to figure out what is happening.
"Load them up!" a man's voice barks from outside. The soldiers inside the academy begin to press in, blasters pointing at them, motioning for them to move toward the doors.
More indistinct arguing, and new voices this time, one female and one male. He can only make out a few words.
"—if my brother thinks he can—" The woman's voice, sharper and louder than Master Tionne's.
"—you have no authority to intern—" The man's voice next, clipped and cold in its anger.
He's not sure who fires first, but suddenly the courtyard is ablaze with color as laser blasts rain down and lightsabers ignite. The soldiers inside look about in confusion, seconds before they're either thrown against a wall by kinetic bursts or disarmed by the purple blade that snaps to life in the darkness.
"Come on!" a woman yells over the noise, the same one who was outside a moment ago. He sees her at the edge of the room, waving for them to follow her in the opposite direction. A man joins her – for a second Veeran thinks he recognizes the famous pilot Jagged Fel from news stories on the HoloNet, but it's too dark to tell for sure – and together they lead the group of younglings out the rear of the academy, toward a trio of waiting freighters.
Veeran and Dorian are guided toward one of the freighters, propelled forward by the momentum of the other children around them. Then a noise like an enormous clap of thunder shakes the air around them, and a rolling wave of heat envelopes them as a blast strikes the academy.
"Get inside, hurry!" Another woman, this one blonde with a trio of scars on her forehead, waves at them from the top of the ramp. She looks up at the dark-haired man as he passes her. "Jaina?"
"On the Falcon," the man replies before running off toward the cockpit. It is Jagged Fel. He's sure it is.
A minute later, the ship is airborne, hurtling upward away from the planet, away from the destruction of the academy, away from the only home he has ever known.
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They arrive at an unknown location hours later, reuniting with the rest of the academy's occupants when the last freighter lands and unloads. He searches the disembarking Jedi, waiting…
Master Jaina Solo is the last to walk down the ramp. She closes it, running her hands over the freighter's battered hull, muttering something under her breath.
"Come on, boys, let's get inside."
He looks up at the Jedi Knight standing over them, the blonde one with the scars. Then he sees a more familiar figure hurry over.
"I'll get them, Tahiri," Master Bash says, reaching out to gather Veeran and Dorian toward him. "I know it's been a hard day, but we'll get you settled."
A hard day? He doesn't even know a word to describe what kind of day it's been. Words like hard and terrifying and insane don't really seem to be enough. He stands still in the middle of the hangar, earning a worried look from his twin and from the two Jedi Knights. "Where's Master Tionne?" he says, unable to shake the anger from his voice.
Master Bash and the other Jedi share a look, the kind that adults always get right before they deliver terrible news. He shakes his head before they can respond.
"No," he says, backing away from them. "No."
Dorian reaches for his hand, but he smacks it away.
"No!" It's all welling up inside him – because he knew, didn't he? He already knew before he even asked, had already felt it in some inexplicable way, even though she wasn't bound to him, not more than she was to any of the other kids. He knew he wasn't particularly special to her, but that was okay because she was special to him, the only one who— the only one—
He runs, then, because he's never been good at sitting still.
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There's a memorial service for Master Tionne and Master Kam, and for a couple of the older apprentices who were killed along with them. Master Skywalker does most of the speaking. He says he knew the Solusars for a long time, and he seems really sad that they're gone. His family is nearby, sharing his grief. All of them famous and special in some way or another. Pilots and diplomats and Jedi Knights. Beacons of light and hope.
Heroes.
Royalty, too. Despite her attempt to blend in with the mourners, everyone notices the Queen Mother of Hapes standing with the whole Skywalker-Solo clan, her young daughter tucked in close to her side.
It takes forever to get through the service, with all the Masters and Knights paying their last respects. Finally, the younglings are allowed their turn. Some of the kids approach the makeshift dais, where holos of Tionne and Kam Solusar have been placed among wreaths of wildflowers. Veeran and his brother stay in their seats, watching the others. Dorian nudges him in the arm, and he can feel the unspoken question between them: Shouldn't they go, too? Doesn't he want to?
All he really wants to do is run away. But he won't do that here, not at her memorial. She'd be worried about him if he did.
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He stands by the open door, staring out at the mountain range in the distance, at the sliver of golden-orange sun rising over the peaks. Back at the academy it would have been nearly dinner time, but in their new home, it's morning. Even two weeks later, he's still having trouble adjusting to the time difference.
"Hey, Veeran! Come here!"
He hears his friends calling out to him, laughing like crazy over something. He glances behind him and sees Tredo making some kind of stupid face. He guesses it's a little funny, but he doesn't really feel like laughing right now.
He wonders where Dorian is. He reaches out, senses his twin nearby. Hiding again. That actually sounds like a good idea. He thinks he could hide for a long time and not even care about coming back out.
The sun rises a little higher, rays of light stretching down from the mountains, across the open plain. Watching it makes his chest hurt, but he doesn't want to look away. He thinks if he just keeps his eyes on the sunrise, maybe—
More laughter, louder this time. Too loud.
"Veeran! Check this out!"
"I'm busy," he mumbles, still standing in the doorway. His chest hurts, and his eyes burn, and he just wants it to be quiet for once—
Another long peal of laughter, this one distinctive and booming in a way that the others aren't. He turns to see Geridan doubled over, laughing hysterically like he's never going to laugh again.
That's it.
He turns away from the door and the sun and mountains, crosses to the other side of the room, and stops in front of his friends. Tredo is the first to look up, and his eyes narrow a little. "Hey, Veeran, are you—"
He doesn't let Tredo finish. Hands clenched tight, he raises one arm and swings hard, hitting Geridan in his stupid, laughing mouth. His friend staggers backward, clutching his jaw with both hands.
"What was that for?" Geridan yells.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dorian curled up in a window sill, his datapad forgotten in his lap as he stares at them in shock.
He looks at Geridan again, at the anger and hurt in his face. His eyes are still burning, and he can barely see. "Would you just shut up?" he screams.
Geridan glares at him, then lunges forward, fist lashing out at him. He tries to move out of the way, but it makes contact with his nose. He's about to react, maybe punch him again, but a pair of arms is suddenly restraining him.
"That's enough," Dorian says in his ear. Across from them, Tredo is holding Geridan back as well, and one of the masters is running to see what the commotion is about.
"You big jerk!" Geridan shouts, still rubbing his mouth with one hand. "I didn't do anything to you!"
"Just stop your stupid laughing!" Veeran screams. "Nobody wants to hear it anyway!"
"Boys!"
He looks up at the Jedi Knight looming over them, unable to see her clearly through the tears in his eyes; but he can sense her shock and frustration. "What's going on here?" she asks, her voice pitched high, like she's ready to snap, too.
He wrenches himself from Dorian's grasp and runs as fast as he can from the room. He doesn't even know where he's going – nothing here is where it's supposed to be, and it drives him crazy – so he keeps going until he finds a spot away from everyone else, one that has a window.
He swipes his sleeve across his eyes, trying to dry them so he can see, but when he looks out the window, he realizes he's on the wrong side of the enclave. There's no sunrise here, nothing more than the long shadows cast by the building and a few rays of light warming the sky. He sinks to the floor and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like. Grasping for some trace of her. Jedi are supposed to become one with the Force, that's what Master Skywalker said. So why can't he feel her anywhere?
He can still hear the laughter. Like they didn't even care what happened. Like everything was going to go back to normal and they'd all be fine without her. Like they hadn't lost the most wonderful person in the whole galaxy.
She would tell him that hitting another student is wrong. That fighting is never the answer to his problems. She would tell him to apologize and try to fix what he did. But she can't tell him any of that because she's not here. She's not anywhere he can reach, and she never will be again.
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They send him to counseling for a little while, but he mostly refuses to talk, and eventually they stop making him go. He's not even sure why he didn't talk; maybe it was a stupid game, like a staring contest, waiting to see who would blink first. Only there's no winner, and now it's too late to tell them that he didn't mind being there, that maybe he would have said something if they'd just given him more time. But most of the grown-ups have their own kids to take care of, and the ones who don't are too busy with important Jedi business, the kind that often takes them away from the enclave. No one has time for an orphan kid who gets into fights.
He doesn't do it often, at first; and when he does, it's not as bad as that first fight with Ames. A bump here, a shove there. A datapad knocked off a table. Nothing anyone would get too mad about. The kinds of things grown-ups ignore when there are bigger, more important things to worry about.
Months go by, and the war continues. Veeran and his brother turn nine, but no one notices or cares. He's not even sure Dorian cares. Ever since they came to the enclave, his twin spends most of his time reading stories on his datapad, pretending he's somewhere else. They hardly ever talk anymore, and when they do, it's usually so that Dorian can get on his case for being mean to people. Which is dumb, because if he's really so mean, why does he still have friends when Dorian doesn't have any?
The enclave is pretty boring overall. There's one wider space that's used for training and exercise and to run around, but there's nothing to climb or swing from or jump off of, and whenever he complains about it, the masters give him some line about how bacta is in short supply and we don't need you breaking your arm again, Veeran.
They do go outside sometimes, but never for very long, and it's always strictly supervised, and it's usually just to meditate, which he hates. He makes sure to tell them so, loudly, earning the muffled laughter of his friends and classmates.
The masters frown and sigh and tell him not to hate, because hate is of the dark side.
He hates that, too.
Then Luke Skywalker dies, and that's when he finally understands the truth he's been trying to hide from this whole time, that this isn't some horrible nightmare he can wake up from, that the war isn't going to end, that Master Tionne and Master Kam died for nothing, that he's going to live the rest of his life trapped in dull, gray prisons just like this one.
They're transferred three separate times over the next year. No one tells them why, exactly. He knows it has to do with Darth Caedus and his new Sith allies, and he hears that the Jedi are fugitives now, or something like that. The enclaves all look the same to him anyway, and none of their sunrises can compare to the ones on Ossus. He still watches them though. He's not sure he would stop even if he wanted to.
He starts getting into fights again. There are bruises and black eyes, and sometimes bloody noses and bloody mouths and split knuckles. The adults try to reason with him; they talk about peace and serenity and submitting to the will of the Force. He doesn't ask if it's the will of the Force that Caedus destroyed the academy or that the Jedi keep dying one by one. He already knows they don't have an answer.
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Enclave number four is the worst one yet. It's crowded and depressing and never, ever warm enough. He doesn't even see the outside of this enclave, and he wonders if they're on some frozen wasteland of a planet, or maybe an asteroid. The only good thing about this place is that he doesn't get in as much trouble as he did before because of all the confusion. And he makes friends pretty quick, too, although that's nothing new. He's never had a problem making friends.
The two boys he hangs out with the most are Roji and Cass. He sort of remembers them from the academy, but they're both about a year younger than he is, so he didn't play with them much before. There are other kids who hang out with them sometimes, too, but Roji and Cass are his best friends, the ones he plays with every day. Sure, Roji is kind of annoying, and Cass is sort of boring, but they like the same things he does, and unlike Dorian, they don't try to make him feel bad about himself.
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They're in enclave number four for about half a year when the news they've been waiting for finally arrives. It comes in the form of Cass, poking his blond head through the door of the room Veeran shares with his twin. Veeran is lying on the top bunk, floating a stylus in the air above his head, while Dorian sits at the desk, reading.
"Did you guys hear what happened?" Cass is out of breath, like he's been running, and his eyes are wide.
Veeran glances down at Dorian, who looks up at him and shrugs. "No," Veeran says, turning back to Cass. "What is it?"
"Solo— Caedus, I mean… he's dead."
Veeran sits up straight and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "What?" he and Dorian say at the same time.
Cass nods his head over and over, eyes going even wider. "I just heard some of the masters talking about it. There was a big battle, and the other Sith turned on him, and then he and Master Solo killed each other."
Veeran frowns. "Master Jaina?"
His friend looks behind him as a big group of kids run past him in the corridor. "Yeah," he says, still watching whatever is happening outside the room. "Come on, let's go. They're probably going to make an announcement or something."
Veeran jumps down from the top bunk and heads for the door, looking over his shoulder at his twin. "You coming?"
Dorian is staring off into space. "You can go," he says. "I'll catch up."
Veeran rolls his eyes and leaves his brother behind, racing Cass down the hallway. He beats him to the common room, and they find Roji standing with his parents and Cass's dad. The grown-ups are murmuring to each other about what it means if it's true. Will they be able to leave the enclave and go back to their old lives? Will there be a new Jedi Academy? Who would even lead it? Master Jade Skywalker or Master Organa Solo? Can Princess Leia even handle running the Order now that she's lost her husband and all of her children?
He looks down at his feet as the adults ramble on. He never even thought about it like that. That's almost her whole family. He's not exactly sure how he feels about the news of Jacen Solo's death – happy, right? – but it never occurred to him to think of anyone being sad about it.
The announcement finally happens, but there's nothing reassuring about it, and it doesn't take long for Veeran to realize things aren't going to change anytime soon, at least not for the better. Jacen Solo might be dead, but the Sith Lords he joined forces with are still very much alive, and the civil war rages on.
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The stories start up not long after the news of Darth Caedus's death. Veeran hears about them from Roji, who swears he got them from his parents. But Roji's not the only one spreading the increasingly disturbing tales, and before long the whole enclave is talking about him: the Sith doctor, the one stealing Force-sensitives from all across the galaxy.
"—And they say he's over a hundred and fifty years old, and he drinks Jedi blood to stay alive, and—"
"Would you shut up with those creepy stories?" Veeran passes the ball he's holding from his left hand to his right and throws it at Roji's head.
"What?" Roji bats the ball away and frowns. "It's true, I heard my dad talking about it!"
"No, you didn't," Dorian mumbles from the corner, not even looking up from his datapad.
"Shut up, Dorian," Roji says, voice rising as he turns to Veeran's twin. "How would you even know? All you do is read your stupid stories."
Even though Dorian doesn't visibly react, Veeran can feel his brother's annoyance flare through their bond.
"Yesterday," Dorian says, looking up slowly to stare right at Roji, "you said he was only a hundred years old. Last week he was the old Emperor's secret apprentice who's been hiding in the Unknown Regions. Before that, he was half-Vong." Dorian leans forward, maintaining eye contact as he smirks. "You wanna talk about stupid stories, huh?"
Roji stands, fists clenched, and takes a step toward Dorian. His brother quirks one eyebrow before leaning back in his seat and returning to his datapad. Despite that, Veeran can sense the tight coil of Dorian's presence, waiting.
"Veeran," Roji says, "tell your stupid brother to shut his mouth before I shut it for him."
Veeran rolls his eyes. "Sit down, you idiot. He's doing it on purpose." He glances over at Dorian. Force, he's such a smug jerk sometimes, always acting like he's so much smarter than everyone else. But Veeran still has to force himself not to laugh, because it's kind of hilarious how much his twin pushes Roji's buttons.
"I never said anything about the old Emperor, that was Cass—" Roji glowers at Dorian, ignoring Cass's murmur of protest. "—but the Vong thing is true, I've heard the grown-ups talking about it. He worships their gods and everything."
"Gross," Veeran says. "Come on, let's play sabacc or something. Cass, you have your cards?"
"Yeah," his friend says, scooting past Roji to lay the deck of cards on the table. "Chips, Roji?"
Roji huffs out an angry breath and turns away from Dorian. "Yeah, in my bag."
"I'm dealer," Veeran says as he picks up the deck. He spares his twin only a moment's glance. "You playing?"
Dorian doesn't look up from his datapad. "No."
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Not long after, Leia Organa Solo arrives to take over their enclave, and she brings her grandchildren with her. Two of them are babies – Jaina Solo's kids, he's told, and twin boys.
"Hey, kinda like you guys!" Cass says one day at lunch when they see Master Organa Solo with her grandsons. Dorian is sitting at the next table, but he ignores the comment, eating his meal with one hand while he balances his datapad on the table with the other. Roji snickers at Cass's remark, and Veeran glares at him until he shuts up. He doesn't really have a problem with the Solo twins; after all, their mom was a hero who died trying to fix the problems her stupid brother started. But it's not like being twins with no parents makes them the same – not by a long shot – and it's stupid of Cass to say so.
"There's the little princess," Roji leans in close to mutter, his eyes narrowed as he nods his head toward the small redheaded girl crossing the mess hall to join her grandmother. "My mom and dad said Caedus burned the academy because he was looking for her."
At first Veeran thinks that's kind of weird, since it wasn't like she had ever lived there. Isn't she from Hapes? Why wouldn't Caedus have looked for her there? He half expects Dorian to chime in with one of his sarcastic remarks and make Roji look like an idiot, but when he glances over his shoulder, he sees his brother has already finished eating and left.
"You know she's his daughter," Roji continues.
Veeran shoves his friend with his shoulder to get him out of his space. "Everyone knows that," he mutters, concentrating on his food.
"They tried to keep it a secret, but—"
"I'm eating," he snaps, shooting Roji a threatening look. He doesn't want to hear all this garbage right now, not while he's trying to fragging eat.
Roji shuts his mouth and doesn't talk to him for the rest of lunch. He doesn't say anything else about the princess for a couple of days, either, but eventually he can't help himself. By then, the rumors about Allana Djo have spread as quickly as the ones about that stupid Sith doctor. Some of the grown-ups are spreading them, too, and he wonders if maybe there is some truth to what he hears, that Caedus destroyed Veeran's home because he was looking for his daughter, that maybe she was the reason he fell to the dark side in the first place.
He can't look at her after that without thinking of everything he's heard, so he does his best to ignore her. It's not too hard; she usually sticks to a few out-of-the-way places around the enclave, and he doesn't see her much. And he continues on with his boring life in this boring prison, forever and ever and ever.
.
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The day is like any other. Afternoon classes let out, and everyone heads to the enclave's common area, including Veeran and his friends. They squeeze through the crush of people – Force, is everyone in the entire building trying to fit in this one room right now? – and find an empty table and chairs on the far end, away from the worst of the crowd.
"This is boring," Roji mutters, propping his feet up on the table and spinning a ball in his hands. "There's no room to do anything."
Cass looks through his bag and pulls out a deck of cards. "Want to play sabacc?"
Veeran nods toward the bag. "Do you have chips?"
"No." Cass sighs and lays the cards down, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. After a few seconds he sits up straighter. "What about squares?"
Veeran rolls his eyes. "We need four people to play that game."
"Well, where's your brother?"
He feels his hands clench involuntarily. "I don't know, hiding somewhere." Like always.
Cass frowns. "I thought you guys had that special twin sense?"
"It's not like a homing beacon, dummy," Roji says as he tosses his ball up in the air.
Veeran is about to say something in response when he hears a small voice murmuring behind him. He leans back in his chair and looks over his shoulder, and he sees the little princess sitting in the corner of the room closest to them, partially hidden by a cluster of tall potted plants. She's holding that stuffed toy she carries everywhere, smiling as she talks to it.
"…and she said I was a big help yesterday when Davin was crying… I wish you could have seen me, Daddy…"
He doesn't hear anything else after that, and he doesn't remember getting out of his chair either. The next thing he knows, he's standing over her, watching her smile disappear, feeling really strange.
(this isn't his fault, he didn't start this, he didn't want this)
"Hey," he says in a cheerful voice that doesn't sound anything like him, "what's that you've got there?"
She looks up but doesn't make eye contact. "My tauntaun," she whispers.
His heart is beating way too fast. "Let me see it," he says, still in that weird voice, reaching toward her. She shrinks back, hugging the toy to her chest, and he feels a sick, black hunger in the pit of his stomach.
(it's too much, it's not his fault, he can't take it anymore)
"Let me see it," he growls, grabbing the toy by its neck and wrenching it out of her arms. He takes a few steps back and pretends to examine the thing in his hand, and he glances over to see his friends rising from the table. Cass looks surprised; Roji looks delighted. The weird, sick feeling gets worse.
"How old are you?" Veeran asks the princess with a laugh. She looks stunned, but she scrambles to her feet and takes a step toward him. "Is this a baby toy? You're not a baby, are you?"
"Give it back," she says as she reaches for the tauntaun.
Veeran holds it up as high as he can over her. "Sure looks like a baby toy. What do you think, Roji?"
He throws the toy over the girl's head to Cass, who holds it for barely five seconds before tossing it to Roji. "Poor little baby," Roji says as the girl turns to him. He pretends to sniff back tears, barely suppressing a vicious laugh.
She wraps her arms around her waist, shaking, and for a second Veeran thinks he should stop. He knows he should stop. Roji throws him the tauntaun in a high arc, and Veeran raises a hand toward it, halting it in the air directly over her head, way too high for her to reach. She turns to face him again, chin trembling, eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Please," she whispers, looking at him like he's the scary bad guy, like he's the problem, and suddenly nothing is funny or weird or sick or hungry anymore – it's just anger. It's all anger.
(don't, don't, don't, don't)
"You're not gonna cry, are you?" he bites out. "This is all your fault."
She lets out a sob as tears spill down her face, and suddenly he feels the toy wrenched from his Force grip. It flies away from him, and he spins around to see it land in his brother's outstretched hand.
"That's enough, Veeran." Dorian cradles the toy against his chest, and even though his words are quiet, there's a hard edge underneath. His entire presence is tense and coiled, ready to fight.
Veeran looks back at the girl, glaring at her even as something hot and uneasy floods through him. Then he meets his twin's eyes, trying to pull his anger around him like a shield, and he realizes he has no idea what to say or think or feel. So he does what he does best.
He runs away.
.
.
He's definitely in trouble now.
He's still not sure why he did it, and he doesn't want to think about it either, but he can't stop seeing her face and the tears in her eyes, and he did that, he made that happen, and he doesn't even feel bad about it, or maybe he does but he's too angry and scared to tell, and he's definitely in trouble now—
"Where's your little gang?"
Frag, he's so distracted, he didn't even notice Dorian slip into the room. He doesn't bother turning to look at him. "Go away," he says.
His twin lets out a frustrated, maybe even angry breath. "You shouldn't have done that."
"Whatever."
"That's what you always say."
Veeran tightens his arms around his knees and stares even more intently at the duracrete wall he's facing. "So?"
He hears shuffling behind him and senses his brother approaching. Then he tenses up as Dorian's back presses against his.
"Get off," he growls.
"Nope."
"I said leave me alone."
His brother shifts a little, probably turning to look over his shoulder. "What, you gonna beat me up if I don't?"
Veeran growls again, louder this time, but he doesn't move. After a few silent seconds, Dorian tilts his head back, resting it between Veeran's shoulder blades.
"I'm not gonna apologize," Veeran mutters.
Dorian's annoyance ripples through their bond, and something else, too. A brief but intense surge of anger. "You should," he says, quiet.
Why should he? She's royalty like five times over, with family that loves her. So she lost her parents, so what? That doesn't make her any better than the rest of them, especially when her father caused all the problems in the first place.
She was so small. He didn't even realize how small she was until he held her toy over her head and she tried to reach for it.
"It's her fault anyway," he snarls. "Roji says she's the reason they attacked the academy."
"Roji's an idiot."
"He heard it from his parents."
Dorian stiffens a little at that. "She's just a little kid. She didn't do anything wrong." He takes a deep breath and lifts his head up. "You're always blaming everyone else when you're the one hurting people."
Veeran ducks his head under his arms, leaning his forehead against his knees. "Leave me alone, Dorian."
"Why do you keep doing it?"
Force, his chest hurts. Why does his brother always ask so many questions? He doesn't think about things the way Dorian does, always analyzing everything and everyone to death. All he knows is when he saw that little princess sitting in the corner, mumbling to her stupid toy like it could actually respond… he just felt so angry, and he wanted her to know how pointless it all was. He wanted everyone to know how pointless everything was.
"I don't know," he says into his knees. And he doesn't know why, not really. He knows it's wrong, and sometimes he even thinks he'll do better. But everything just keeps building up inside him, and it's easier to scream or hit or hurt than it is to think about why he feels like this. Doing has always been more natural to him than thinking.
"You're not the only one who misses them."
He rolls away from his twin, nearly knocking him over, and stands up quickly. "I don't miss anyone," he says, "and I told you to leave me alone."
He hurries out of the room before Dorian can say anything else. Why does his brother think he knows him so well when he barely even talks to him? Like he can just hide away all the time and then have any idea of what Veeran feels about anything? Like being twins suddenly means something, just because some little girl got her feelings hurt?
Tell her you're sorry, he hears a familiar voice whisper. Tell both of them you're sorry.
He closes his eyes against that whisper, wondering if he's imagining it, remembering how it felt to sit outside the academy every morning and watch the sun come up.
"I'm not sorry," he says through gritted teeth. Sorry doesn't fix anything, and it doesn't bring anyone back either.
Is that really what you think, little one?
Is it?
.
.
He tries to lay low after that. A week goes by, and then another, and he breathes easier because maybe he's not in trouble after all. He avoids the little princess just in case – he doesn't feel guilty, that's not why, and it's definitely not because of his brother either – and life goes on like normal. Boring, but normal. He doesn't even think twice about it when Master Bash asks to meet him and Dorian after their lessons. It isn't until he notices the presence of a few of the other masters in the empty classroom that he realizes something is wrong.
.
.
"So they're sending you away?"
He shoves the last of his belongings into the bag and slams the drawer shut. Roji doesn't startle at the sound, but Cass backs up half a step. Veeran doesn't look at either of them as he slings the bag over his shoulder.
"Yeah," he mutters.
He can feel Roji's unguarded outrage. "This is because of her, isn't it? She probably went crying to her grandma."
"You don't know that," Cass says quietly.
Veeran takes a deep breath, feels it rattle in his chest. They said it was because the enclave is too crowded. That it's not safe to have so many of them in one place. They said it was random.
Is this because I was messing with the princess? he'd asked, not believing them for a second.
Master Bash had stared down at him, probably trying to decide whether it was worth the trouble of lying. You've been unhappy here for a long time, Veeran. But you can't take it out on the other children, no matter what you feel.
Then the Twi'lek Jedi had placed a hand on his shoulder. There will be fewer people in the new enclave and more breathing room. Things will be different.
He looks up at his friends, trying to control the tremor in his voice. "I have to go," he says before pushing past them.
When Veeran arrives in the hangar, Dorian is already sitting near the starship, holding his bag in his lap. For once, he's not carrying around that stupid datapad. It's probably in his bag, though. He couldn't survive without it.
Veeran doesn't bother slowing down as he passes his brother. He might as well get on the ship and get it over with.
"You say goodbye to your friends?" Dorian asks to his back.
"Shut up," he mutters without breaking stride. "At least I have friends."
His twin doesn't answer, and he doesn't move to follow after him. Veeran stops at the top of the ramp and looks back at him. Dorian is still angled toward the interior of the enclave, staring off into space.
"What are you doing, weirdo? Let's go."
Dorian takes a breath, then shrugs before shouldering his bag and turning to walk up the ramp.
Veeran doesn't wait for him.
.
.
A few hours into their journey, the starship shudders to an abrupt halt. Veeran falls out of his seat, smacking his shoulder hard into the deck. The other kids groan as they try to pick themselves up; and then an alarm starts to scream through the comm, and he hears Master Bash's voice call out from across the common area.
"Hide!"
Before he can process that command, Dorian is standing over him. His twin grabs him by the arm and pulls with surprising strength, lifting him off the floor. They stumble out of the room and down a maintenance corridor, until Dorian yanks open one of the storage compartments along the wall. It looks big enough to hold one of them, and he's about to protest when they hear a loud grinding sound, the sound of durasteel bending under stress. Dorian shoves him into the compartment and climbs in after him, using the Force to pull the panel back into place.
An eerie silence falls over the ship for a moment, and then a deep hum vibrates through it, the sound of multiple lightsabers activating at once. Veeran tries not to breathe or move, but he can't stop shaking. He knows what this is. They all know what this is.
In the near total darkness of the storage compartment, he feels his brother's hand wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Foreheads touching, and he thinks of all the times he's called his twin a weirdo or picked on him for being different. He never even got a chance to tell him he's sorry.
"We're not going to die," Dorian whispers as if in answer to that thought. "You hear me?"
He wishes he could believe that, but these are Sith Lords, and everyone knows what happens to children taken by the Sith.
Dorian presses a fist to his chest and holds it there, anchoring him. "We're going to survive, no matter what, got it?"
He closes his eyes and nods, listening to the screams of the other kids and the hiss of clashing lightsabers. He feels the exact moment when Master Bash dies, the extinguishing of his light followed by manic laughter and a wave of darkness that blankets the entire starship.
Someone enters the maintenance corridor, heavy footsteps accompanied by the tell-tale thrum of an active saber. Veeran holds his breath, heart hammering against his ribcage.
The panel flies away from their hiding place. Two hands reach in and yank them out, and as they readjust to the light, they look up into the fire-yellow eyes of a huge, crimson-skinned Devaronian man. He throws them down onto the deck and laughs.
"Well, well," the Sith Lord says as he studies them. "What do we have here?"
Another man – this one human with a shaved and tattooed head – appears at the end of the corridor. "More brats?"
The Devaronian grins down at them, then turns to look over his shoulder at his companion. "Mezzon's favorite kind, looks like."
The Sith Lord laughs one more time, then he hauls them up by their shirts and drags them away.
.
to be continued...
