34 BBY
Athemeene was now the mother of three beautiful children. Her eldest, Tan'ya, was brilliant, her boy, Kenth, had the energy of a half a dozen kids his own age, and her youngest, Madale was quiet.
Blessedly quiet.
The newest born of Athemeene's three children and also the easiest to give birth to, which was to be expected given how early Madale was induced. Particularly compared to Kenth, who was just an absolute storm of a child, Madale slept like a stone and was incredibly well behaved, even more than Tan'ya was. She ate full meals, pooped on time, and giggled when played with.
"Keep this up and you're going to be my favorite." Athemeene murmured in a saccharine tone, before booping her daughter on the nose. "Oh, yes you are. You're the bestest little girl, aren't you?"
"Wife, you can't pick a favorite child."
"Why not?" Athemeene asked, standing up straight. "Madale is so much easier than the others. All the perks, none of the dangerous force powers. Or the screaming. Or the dirty clothes everywhere. Or the mysterious breakdowns of the house cleaning droids."
"It's not fair to hold them accountable for things they're not responsible for." Dooku put his arm around his wife and rubbed her shoulder as she pressed close to him.
She hummed in agreement. The two of them were standing above their daughter's cradle, watching their new daughter blink up at them with unfocused blue eyes. It'd take a while for her vision to develop properly, with about two to three hands being about the max distance she could see at for six weeks. Eventually her eyes would darken from blue to brown, more like her parents and siblings.
Madale's hover cradle was something Athemeene had picked up in the city, an old fashioned thing made out of simple components and rich hardwood. The Serenno family was rich enough that they could easily afford a sturdier one of durasteel or even splurge on a gold inlay, but wood was just warmer and more homely. Over time, Athemeene had come to prefer locally made furniture compared to something more expensive that could be imported from off-world, maybe a holdover from her days of hobby chasing in her lonely first year of marriage.
A few weeks of whittling courses had only taught her just how much pride a true master had in their craft, and it was astounding to see how beautiful and detailed a man with just a hammer and chisel could make a pattern. This cradle was adorned with countless coiling Tirra'Taka, dragons of local legend that supposedly had been ridden into battle against foreign oppressors by the Serenno family in ancient times. She wasn't sure if she believed that story, but Athemeene was astounded at the many hours of work they represented.
The carver even claimed that her husband had ridden such a beast into battle against Ramil in the civil war. The awestruck tone in his voice when he spoke of Athemeene's often silly, sweet and awkward husband was hard to fathom. When he learned the cradle was for the Count's child, the carver insisted it was a gift. No matter how hard Athemeene insisted on paying, the old man had only just gotten even more stubborn until he finally lost his temper and yelled that she would make him ashamed.
It may be a bit hard to believe, but her husband really was a hero to the people of Serenno. After restoring law and bringing peace back to the planet, the love and loyalty the population held towards him was almost frightening to see sometimes.
There were times when she was worried about what they'd let him get away with if he tried to do something ridiculous.
Athemeene and her husband were not in lockstep on every issue. They both agreed the Senate was awful, but Athemeene grew up on Raxus. Even if the Republic was deeply, deeply flawed in its implementation, belief in democracy and the rule of law was incredibly common on her homeworld. She merely wished that the Republic wasn't broken and corrupt, where Dooku simply loathed it with every fiber of his being.
She understood his view, he was simply trying to fix things right here, right now, in reality. Why prattle about high unreachable ideals and whine about empty abstract principles when he could just do whatever was needed without the Senate? Certainly for a world gripped by civil war, decisive leadership and a firm hand was welcomed by the public.
But still, to Athemeene it was definitely a very… autocratic viewpoint.
When she'd mentioned as much to her husband, his response was curt and dismissive. 'If power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely, then if such power is given to the masses, how can they not also be corrupted?' He'd shaken his dismissively. 'Only men of great character can be trusted with such responsibility.'
Once again, Athemeene could see his point, but at the same time she was left feeling very uncomfortable.
Thinking of discomfort, in the present there was a topic they needed to discuss. "Husband, we need to hire help."
She could feel him sighing through his nose. "Wife, we've discussed this."
"I understand, I do. You don't trust people easily, and you want to keep us safe, but I'm only one woman." She looked over at him. "This is our third child, and this palace is enormous. You're always traveling for work, and now Tan'ya's taking Jedi lessons. Please, I need help, and droids just aren't good enough. Kenth needs someone to play with and watch over him, and M8 can barely even run!"
She could see the reluctance and hesitation in his eyes. He absolutely did not want to bring someone into his home that he did not trust.
"Dooku, if you're worried we can recruit exclusively from here on Serenno. The commoners practically worship you, and your sister can easily run a background check. We could even invite your sister to live here, to keep the family together."
He hadn't said no yet, Athemeene could almost see his will giving in. "Athemeene-"
"Please, I need this. Your children need this."
He breathed out through his nose and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Eventually he said, softly, "How many were you thinking?"
"Just five." She answered with a smile, knowing that she'd won now they were negotiating numbers.
"Five?" He repeated in disbelief. "That many?"
"My father had fourty or so to maintain his palace."
"Could he not afford droids?" Dooku huffed.
"Husband, droids are much cheaper than paid servants."
Shaking his head in despair, Dooku turned towards the doorway. "Just… don't hire anyone without at least letting me perform a background check, first."
"Of course, of course." Almost giddy with victory, Athemeene turned back around to face her daughter. "Did you hear that, baby girl? You're gonna get a wet nurse, which means that mommy is always going to get a full night's sleep from now on!"
Apparently Madale was a fan of the idea, squirming in delight.
Working with Master Dyas on his book was helping Tan'ya develop a pretty good understanding of galactic history, particularly the murky origins of the Republic having completed volume 1 in the series.
It seemed having an assistant to explain things helped Sifo organize his thoughts, so that when they got to writing the words practically flowed from him. Because Tan'ya was an able typist both from using keyboards in her first life and typewriters in her second, it only took a small adjustment and soon she was writing as fast as Syfo was talking. He was able to dictate the early history of the Republic in a very conversational tone, often moving about the room and glancing over sources he was already very familiar with to remind himself of their content.
The end result was a book that was written in just six months, and despite being a very dense subject matter, was a lot easier to understand than expected and offered a detailed account of the events, players, and motivations in the earliest days of the Republic. For his sources, Dyas usually preferred primary accounts, almost all of which were recorded on holocrons from the vaults of the Coruscant Temple, but also drew from the verbal traditions of early worlds in the Republic and their neighbors, like Corellia.
Apparently the Jedi Temple had been sacked during the Great Galactic War three and a half thousand years ago, and much had been lost. Many of Sifo's sources were only references to earlier works that no longer existed, mere second hand accounts of books that long dead authors had once read.
Sifo also had an impressive array of contacts at the University of Empress Teta who were up to date on the latest archaeological work. Despite being utterly dwarfed by the nearby University of Coruscant, the University of Teta actually had a history department which was just as if not slightly better regarded. Apparently there was major debate on whether the figure the planet was named after, Empress Teta herself, was a real historical character or a mythological deity. The issue was further complicated by religious debates, with many of the planet's inhabitants worshiping Teta as a goddess who came to bring civilization to the Deep Core Worlds, and were offended at the idea of her ever being mortal.
On the subject, Sifo merely demurred. "I would say that there's clear evidence she was a real woman, but that will never change some people's minds. Besides, that's a debate for twenty thousand years in the future, we've still got a while to go before we get there."
Because of the heat of that debate, and the religious fervor of the world's archeological community, historians from Empress Teta were well regarded the galaxy over, regardless of if they were secular or worshippers of the Matriarch. Tan'ya could remember at least one occasion where Sifo was drawn into an hour long argument with a university professor on whether or not to call the planet Empress Teta, its current name, or Koros Major, its name at the founding a the Republic.
After it was all over he said to her, "I don't like historians who aim for objectivity. Pompous idiots seem to think they can understand people better by aiming for a non-sentient's perspective, as if they could ever achieve that while being sentient."
Tan'ya didn't know if she agreed, but Sifo made absolutely no effort to hide his bias in his writing. He was a real fan of the Duros species, dedicating multiple chapters to their pivotal role in events, and the culture that produced such vigorous, yet cynical and clear thinking characters.
As far as he was concerned the Republic was a good thing, and anyone who opposed its creation was at best making a mistake. Unlike Tan'ya's father, Sifo-Dyas was a patriot with a deep love of the Republic, and when he compared the founders and heroes of those heady ancient days to anyone in the modern era, it was always those alive and in living memory that seemed to come up short.
Tan'ya really came to enjoy working with Master Dyas. She found herself approving of and agreeing with his point of view more often than not, though his obvious dislike of the people and cultures of the ancient Tion Cluster was a bit irksome at times; that was where her mother was from after all. Xim was only known as the Despot in the Republic, while on Raxus he was called the Great, and there were statues built in his honor. But then, when Tan'ya considered the issue further, she supposed much the same could be said about Ghengis Khan and 21st century Mongolia.
A complicated topic in the end. She certainly wasn't willing to debate with him over it.
When Sifo's publisher received the work via holomail he said he was very pleased with it. It only took a few edits to cut away some of the too casual language, and a few passes to elaborate on some of the assumed knowledge. In the end his biggest suggestion had been to work on a Volume 0, covering prehistory and the Rakatans to give people more context.
It wasn't long at all until the work was given the green light, and made available to the public as a holobook for download. At first Tan'ya was astounded to hear a billion copies had sold in the first week, but then realized this was really a middling performance in a galaxy of trillions. Such a thing was almost unheard of on Earth, but in this galaxy it was barely noticed.
Tan'ya favorite part was that it was published under the name Dr Difo-Syas.
"Why can't you publish it under your real name?"
The two of them were seated in his office, getting ready to continue with volume two of the book. All around his office were scattered all kinds of sources and works by other authors on the same subject, arrayed in plain sight so that Sifo could reach them and reference them quickly. It derailed his train of thought if he had to spend too much time looking things up.
He answered while looking down at the notes in his lap. "Because a Jedi is not supposed to have an income outside the Temple, we are meant to be objective. Having financial ties to sources outside the temple is seen as a gateway to corruption."
Thinking about it, Tan'ya supposed that many police forces back on her homeworld had laws against moonlighting for the exact same reason.
A little worried worm of guilt gnawed away at her until she asked, "Are we engaging in corruption?"
Sifo sighed through his nose. "Technically, yes but I honestly just don't care about the money. I've dreamed about this book for years, it's more of a hobby really."
"Would the Jedi Council let you publish it if you explained that to them?"
"They would want to read it first, and I suspect they'll be upset by the things I want to say."
How very subversive of him. They sat in silence for a little while longer until another thought occurred to Tan'ya. "What about Father? He has an enormous income."
"Your father renounced his role as a jedi, before becoming Count."
"And now? He's serving as a jedi in an official capacity, and his income is still the same."
Sifo only shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not actually sure what arrangement he's made with the temple." He looked up at her. "Now, are you ready to begin?"
Tan'ya nodded, and moved her hands into position above the keyboard. "Ready."
Sifo drew air in to start talking when Tan'ya's holocom suddenly rang. He shot her a rye look as she sheepishly dug through her pockets to take out the device and saw her mother's face projected as the caller.
"Hi Mother." Tan'ya answered.
"Hello Tan'ya. You're at the New Temple now, right? I've been meaning to call your teacher, but I don't have his number. Any chance you could grab that for me very quickly?"
"I can, but if you need to talk to him he's right here."
"Hello, Athemeene," Sifo called from across the room, setting his notes aside and walking over. He took the holocommunicator from Tan'ya's hands and held it up so only his face was being projected. "Is this something you're happy to talk about in front of your Tan'ya, or do you want me to send you my number so you can call later?"
"No, here's fine." She replied. "I just wanted to extend an invitation for you to come to our family's Life Day celebration this year."
Wait, what? Tan'ya quirked an eyebrow. "Life Day?"
"Life Day is a very important occasion to our family." Athemeene answered. "And we're all going to celebrate it together this year, understood?"
"...Yes, Mother."
Athemeene smiled. "Master Sifo Dyas, I'm sure my daughter would be very happy if you were able to make it."
"I would be honored." Sifo replied smoothly.
"Excellent. Sorry to interrupt your lesson."
"That's okay."
"Goodbye, Tan'ya." Athemeene said to her daughter.
"...Bye, Mother." Tan'ya's cheeks tinged slightly pink.
Sifo hung up the holocommunicator and handed it back to his student. "So you've never celebrated Life Day before?"
"I've never even heard of it."
Later that evening, Athemeene and Dooku were getting ready to sleep. The two of them were in their bedroom, with Athemeene seated in front of her dressing room mirror, brushing the knots out of her hair while her husband relaxed in bed, reading.
"I'm going to invite my parents and siblings to our Life Day celebration." Athemeene turned to her husband. "Who else would you like to invite?"
Despite his reputation for cold calculation, Dooku looked at her for a long moment like he had no clue what she was talking about and was worried he was about to get himself in trouble. Unspoken questions flickered behind his gaze, like why are we celebrating Life Day? Since when do we celebrate Life Day? Has she mentioned this to me before?
Finally after a few moments of rapid thought, Athemeene's husband appeared to decide that no he wasn't in trouble, and that this wasn't something worth fighting about either.
"I shall invite my sister." He said at last, looking back down at this com-pad.
Athemeene smiled to herself in the mirror. She was getting really good at getting the things she wanted. "What about Qui-Gon?"
"I'm sure he'll be busy." Dooku answered. "Jedi don't celebrate Life Day." And neither did we until this morning, went unsaid.
Athemeene hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I can at least invite him, and if he says no that's that. Besides, Master Sifo said he'd be coming."
Dooku's head shot up again. "You've already asked Sifo? Why?"
"Well, he's an old friend of yours, I know how close you two are. Plus I see how very dear he is to Tan'ya as well." Athemeene shrugged. "I was also going to invite Asajj and Ky Narec."
"Why not invite the entire rest of the New Temple while you're at it?" Dooku asked the back of her head.
"That's a good idea. They've all been working so hard, and I'm sure everyone would enjoy a nice, informal celebration."
Defeated and exasperated, Dooku fell back onto his pillows. "Anyone else you had in mind?"
"...Master Yoda?"
Her husband almost fell out of his bed.
Life Day, Tan'ya had discovered, was a traditional Wookiee holiday from Kashyyyk. It's exact origins weren't clear, but it was an annual affair that happened at a fixed date every year based on the shyriiwook calendar of three hundred and eighty one days. The best theory Tan'ya had read on the subject was that it was originally intended to mark the start of the Wookiee mating season, but because the Wookiee calendar wasn't perfectly aligned with kashyyyk's annual rotation around its star, Life Day had drifted to a different date over the course of tens of thousands of years.
That only raised the question of why anyone who wasn't a Wookiee or at least living on Kashyyyk would ever celebrate it?
Well, despite being relatively backwards technologically, and not too prominent economically, Kashyyyk was an incredibly popular holiday destination, with its spectacular tree cities and beautiful tropical beaches. The Life Day festival with its colorful, lively celebrations and ceremonial gift giving became a particularly popular draw for offworld tourists. Eventually the galaxy's mega corporations seized on it and pushed it into the wider public eye mostly as a marketing ploy. Often romance and family were a big theme in advertising for the now annual event.
The whole thing reminded Tan'ya of Christmas celebrations in Japan. Were the Japanese Christian? Not really. Did they like family, romance and gift giving? Yes. Did it drive up sales? Yes. Then that was all the excuse some people needed.
Tan'ya herself wouldn't have even minded celebrating it this year, it was just this was literally the first time anyone had ever mentioned the holiday to her.
Stepping out the door of her father's droid driven car, Tan'ya paused to affix her cape over her shoulders and redo the silver chain that held it together. "Father? Can I ask a question?"
"'Why are we celebrating Life Day?'" Dooku glanced down at her, fiddling his own chain into place having just stepped out behind her.
"...Why are we celebrating Life Day for the first time?"
He breathed out through his nose. "Your Mother does this occasionally. She'll pick up a new hobby or interest for a while, then get bored of it and move on. This year she has decided Life Day will be a new family tradition."
"...I see." Tan'ya frowned. "So will we celebrate this next year?"
"I have my doubts." Dooku answered. "Now, tell me what you want as a gift."
"I thought it was supposed to be a surprise?"
He just looked at her.
"...What's a suitable price range?" Tan'ya eventually asked, feeling him out.
"Tan'ya." He said in a warning tone.
Right, they weren't supposed to mention money in public. Apparently even thinking of what something might cost implied the family finances might be in jeopardy, which was completely unacceptable among the noble houses of the Outer Rim. That didn't mean Tan'ya could ask for anything, though.
The biggest thing she wanted was a dockyard to construct ships with, but there was no way that would be an acceptable gift.
"Could I have my own spaceship?"
"No."
"...Piloting lessons?"
He considered for a moment, before nodding once. "I will arrange it."
A wide smile split Tan'ya face. It had been too long since she'd been able to fly! Her second life had been her worst life by far, but the one good thing about it had been flying. Everything else had been miserable; and unbroken string of battlefields, each as repugnantly wasteful as the last. Now that she was away from it, Tan'ya wondered what on Earth she'd been thinking to stick around for so long.
Loyalty to a country was one thing, but serving that same country after it was engaged in a multifront war with several other much larger powers was madness! And it was madness, the Type 95 had seen to that. In practically every conceivable way, life number three was a complete upgrade over life number two.
So Tan'ya had no idea why she occasionally felt nostalgic about the 203rd. It was one thing to miss flying, but another to miss the coffee and the company. Those were without a doubt, bar none, the worst years of her life. It would be crazy of her to want to see everyone again. In particular Tan'ya had had strange recurring dreams of talking to Visha, sometimes in a cave, sometimes in a tent, and even out under unfamiliar stars or wearing armor like a teutonic knight of old. Obviously they weren't real, probably just meaning Tan'ya missed the one friend she may have made in that awful war.
The building they were approaching was surprisingly small and out of the way. It was a two story building with a peaked tiled roof and slightly squashed look to it, the middle slightly wider than the roof or the foundation. It was made from an off white cement looking substance, and raised up on a pyramidal set of steps with channels for running water carved into it. It was apparently a pretty common look for old buildings, being considered rain resistant and fashionable once upon a time. It was located away off of any major roads and paved with actual cobblestone.
Definitely not the sort of place Tan'ya had been expecting to visit with her father today. Normally if he wanted to speak to an artisan or someone from the city they would come to see him, but apparently Mother had insisted his Life Day gift be a surprise, so Father had been forced to leave the palace to acquire it.
Ilenntia was the capital city of the planet, and easily its wealthiest population. None of the people walking the streets were amputees or hunchbacks, injured in the dangerous lumber yards, but middle class professionals and servants of the baronial houses that administered the planet. None of Serenno's countless battered lumberjacks lived here, instead Ilenntia was where the people who owned the lumber yards came to spend their money.
Unlike the rest of the world, where the primary language was not even Outer Rim basic but native Serennoan, the people of the capital spoke Galactic Standard, though with an accent that occasionally stressed the 'n' sound a little too much.
"I will choose your gift for me, so you just have to get one for your mother." Her father told her.
"You don't trust me to shop for you?"
"I would instruct you on what to get for your mother, but she insisted I not give you any ideas."
"What are you getting for her?"
"A painting. Your mother is a fan of local handcrafted works, so I thought she would appreciate a portrait of us both."
Luckily the two of them weren't expected to model for too long. The position chosen by Dooku had them both seated, with Tan'ya in her father's lap. It was awkward and uncomfortable for someone who was once a grown adult, but also totally socially acceptable. The gray haired old man who was sketching them made almost no conversation as he worked, except occasionally asking the 'Honored Count of Serenno' or his 'Princess' to turn their head up or down slightly to change the lighting.
Eventually the artist asked, "Princess, would you like to go to the next room? I've captured enough of you for now." He looked up at the Count, explaining. "I thought it would be best if I sketched the little girl first, so she can go play sooner. Hard for the children to sit for long."
Tan'ya clenched her teeth in frustration at the condescension. "I'm fine."
"Get up, Tan'ya." Dooku ordered, ignoring her protest. "You've grown too large to sit on my lap for long."
Fuming, and slightly miffed that maybe her father had been implying that she was too heavy, Tan'ya hopped up and went to the next room. She paused only briefly to look at herself in a mirror, confirming for herself that no she wasn't chubby. Master Sifo had been certain to include exercise and stretching in her training, particularly focused on memorizing and moving between various lightsaber forms with a wooden sword as a prop. It was natural for her to get heavier as she grew older, and her father was getting advanced in his age.
Feeling a bit more reassured, Tan'ya looked about the room and saw it was full of childrens' toys and picture books fit someone her age, but not her maturity. Rolling her eyes, Tan'ya found a seat and dug out her com-pad, before starting to review the notes on the next chapter Master Sifo wanted to work on. Volume 1 had been entirely focused on the origins of the Republic, now Volume 2 was going to cover a much larger period of almost eighteen thousand years of peace and growth for the Republic. Obviously it wasn't all smooth sailing, but the historical record was incredibly spotty and short on details of any major conflicts. It would be a long time until the Hundred Years Darkness really threatened the Republic and a narrative that could be more easily followed would emerge.
It was just as Tan'ya was scrolling that she glanced at the big picture book in the corner of her vision, and was struck with an idea for a gift that her Mother would appreciate, and Master Dyas as well…
Flimsy was the Galaxy's word for paper, and was generally seen as an unbelievably expensive, but also disposable material. Almost any adult who could afford their own preferred to read or view images on a com-pad, where information was conveniently accessible and more efficiently stored than shelves full of weighty books or old magazines. Particularly on Coruscant and the other ecumenopolises space saving was important, and flimsy was seen as an unaffordable luxury by many on top of being a low quality and unreliable way to store information.
There were two exceptions to this. One was picture books for children, which having something to turn and hold was seen as good stimulation for a growing mind, and the other was worlds off of the main hyperlanes. Hyperwave signals traveled down the same space lanes that ships did, and experienced the same interferences too. It was similar to Earth in a sense, the further you were out in the boonies the worse your signal was.
On worlds with a low population out at the edge of the galaxy or nestled deep in the backroads of the Outer Rim, flimsy was often preferred to unreliable com-pads. Some worlds didn't even have reliable sources of electricity, like the one Ky and Asajj had been stranded on, Rattak. Plenty of hard working people would trade a lot for a book that contained useful information or even just a good story, so a publishing industry did exist, just it was mostly focused in the Outer Rim.
There was actually a flimsy mill present on Serenno, owned and operated by an interplanetary publisher that focussed on selling pulpy adventure novels and lurid magazines to an audience of teenagers and men with poor tastes in literature. Tan'ya wholeheartedly approved. She was pleased to see that despite the truth of her initial assessments that Serenno's economy was largely resource based, there was actually a small but growing number of businesses and industries already diversifying into areas other than just timber.
It made sense though. Security was the foundation of any good economy. After nearly a decade under her father's firm and lawful, but somewhat disinterested, rule, people had begun to invest their earnings into a variety of new fields. Social mobility was gradually emerging, particularly for those who were already slightly above the destitute lumberjack class.
It also helped that the Count apparently had a very good relationship with much of the nobility of the Outer Rim. Without any announcements or public fanfare, he had managed to convince the rulers of a growing number of planets particularly in the Tion cluster to quietly begin trading with each other in nearly clandestine fashion.
As long as the merchant freighters and privateers played nice, they were largely being allowed to ignore the usual trade barriers. No one was moving any large cargo haulers yet, mostly just freighters that could be operated by a family sized crew, and were focused on moving loads of small but valuable cargo. For now the Republic's accountants hadn't caught on, the amount of goods being exchanged was probably absolutely trivial to them.
It was nice, but probably wouldn't last for long once the pirates started to catch on to what was happening. A small, comparatively slow and lightly armed freighter with valuable cargo was the easiest of pickings. There was no way Serenno could trust its Trade Federation rent-a-navy to defend these ships either. If the corporations ever found out about their slightly clandestine arrangements they'd either shut it down through the Republic, or take the chance to muscle in and expand their corporate empire at the circle's expense.
Tan'ya thought this was exactly why they needed a navy. A good but small one that would just raise the barrier of entry beyond what the average pirate crew could afford, would bring much needed assurance to their little circle of friends and the small army of privateers that was operating in their name.
One day, Tan'ya promised herself. Eventually Father would have to listen to her.