34 BBY
More than anything else in the Galaxy, Tan'ya was coming to hate being cute. This ridiculous Life Day celebration had been over and above her will, decreed by her mother's strange whim, and so Tan'ya had been forcibly prettied up for the occasion. Clad in a purple dress, with her dark hair curled into wavy locks, and flowers carefully pinned at her hem. The only part of her usual outfit that was allowed to remain was her small chain of office, representing that she was her father's heir apparent.
Well, she wasn't sure what all that effort of getting dressed up was even for, because after having her hair ruffled and her cheeks pinched by a parade of distant cousins, aunts, uncles, and even her own grandparents, all the effort they'd gone to had been completely ruined! The flowers that her mother and their servants had spent nearly an hour placing had been scattered on the floor for new guests to trample on, none noticing or caring.
The one person Tan'ya had been looking forward to meeting, Auntie Jenza, had barely even glanced at her nieces and nephew before going to mingle with the rest of the guests.
After all the greetings had been exchanged, and Tan'ya had been called cute more in an hour than in the entirety of her third life before that point, she found herself seated with the other children of the Serenno family at the small table! All the toddlers and the babies too young to feed themselves were at their mother's side, but the children who weren't yet in their double digits of years had their own area to sit by themselves and enjoy dinner.
Surrounded by her cousins, and one slightly older boy who she had discovered was actually her nephew, Tan'ya found herself isolated from her own family and even the Jedi of the New Temple. She didn't want to be here, these people were, well, they were just children. Ordinary children. Maybe one day they would grow up enough that they could hold an actual conversation, but right now they were simply not Tan'ya's peers.
She heaved a sigh as she watched one child pick his nose and eat it, while ignoring the perfectly good plate of finger food in front of him. That had been another one of Mother's ideas. The children's meals were all things they could eat with their hands instead of needing cutlery, that way there was less risk of injury and less need for their parents to supervise them. It was maybe even a good idea from a parent's perspective, but from where Tan'ya's was seated it just meant she was surrounded by grubby handed brats who left stains on whatever they touched.
Though she would admit the food was pretty nice. She was not yet at an age where her taste buds really appreciated soft or savory flavors as much, so the salty deep fried tubers and fatty sweetmeats really hit the spot.
After wolfing down her food as fast as she could, Tan'ya jumped to her feet and left to find a bathroom. She wanted to wash her hands before the gift giving started, so she could personally hand her presents to her family and Master Dyas. It would be mortifying for master Dyas to discover a grease stain on the first edition print of his book.
When she returned, Tan'ya was surprised to find her seat had been taken by a small green old man. Really small. Even at five years of age and change, Tan'ya was head and shoulders taller than him. The only way she could really tell that he wasn't an incredibly small child was his wisened, wrinkled features, and the slow, deliberate struggle in all his movements.
Of course, this tiny old man happened to be the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Yoda.
Tan'ya knew him best from his role in history. He'd held his rank as head of the Jedi Order for more than half a millennium and had played a pivotal role in much of the galaxy's recent events, specifically in the last few hundred years.
Her impression of him was pretty good. Leadership often worked best when the people in charge took a more hands off approach, and Yoda certainly couldn't be accused of being petty or controlling. If anything he edged a little too far into the other extreme, not taking action when the situation might possibly demand it. Whatever his critics said, it was important to note that he'd overseen more than half a millennium of peace, which in itself was a feat that even the greatest of Earth's many rulers couldn't claim.
Right now he was talking to the youngest children around the table, picture book in hand as they listened with rapturous awe. Tan'ya watched for a moment, until the wizened Jedi made eye contact and crooked a finger at her, smiling as he did. All the eyes at the table glanced at her briefly, before returning to the Jedi and after a few moments Tan'ya trepidatiously walked over to join them.
"No need to watch when join, you can." Yoda smiled at her.
Tan'ya had not particularly wanted to join a storybook reading, her taste in literature was more along the lines of reports and official documents.
"Not interested are you, in the Brave Wookiee Padawan and the Duracrete Jungle?" The book in his hand was almost certainly a piece of pro-Jedi propaganda aimed at younglings, but Tan'ya hadn't meant for her cynicism so visible on her face.
"I'm fine, Master." Tan'ya answered, lowering her head. "Please, continue the story."
It was probably a fine children's story, even if Tan'ya couldn't quite appreciate it. The drawings of Coruscant cast the city in a romantic and mysterious light, full of discoveries and strange places, as well as being dangerous and exciting. Many of the sentences rhymed, and it even found a good moral message in balancing the competing virtues of obedience and personal initiative. She appreciated it, even if she didn't enjoy it much.
"Glad you enjoyed it, I am." Yoda said to her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "A favorite of your Father's, it was."
"Father?"
"My Padawan, he once was." Yoda quirked a smile. "Before that, I train all the Temple Younglings."
Tan'ya hadn't known that her father had such a close relationship with such an important figure. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted by one of her cousins.
"Can you read another story?" The little boy asked.
"Of course." Yoda answered, but then paused. "Perhaps later." He pointed with his cane over to where many of the adults were beginning to crowd around the Wroshyr Tree, including Tan'ya's parents. "About to begin, gift giving is."
Excited murmurs ran through the children, and eyes shining, they all quickly rushed over to join their parents in a semi circle. Tan'ya lingered for a moment, understanding that it would take some time to sort through all those gifts and distribute them. She wanted to talk to Master Yoda while she had the chance, he was the only one who could really answer some of her questions about the Jedi Order. As a whole, the organization felt rather cult-ish to Tan'ya, but individually she rather liked the members she had met so far. Talking to someone high up in the Order might reveal a lot.
"Not eager for your gifts?" Yoda asked her.
"I am, I just wanted to talk for a moment while there's still time."
"Curious about your Father, are you?"
Well, yes, but only among other things. Tan'ya nodded anyway.
The Grandmaster smiled at her. "Well, come sit with an old man for a moment."
"Actually," A bass voice interrupted them, and Dooku stepped forward. "Tan'ya's mother was just about to start handing out the presents."
Yoda looked at her father for a long time. "I see. That's how it is."
"Yes. That's how it is." Dooku agreed, putting a protective hand on Tan'ya's shoulder.
The two made extended eye contact, and even Tan'ya could feel the rising tension between them. If they started arguing now, or if Father took her away to start opening gifts, she'd never have a chance to talk to the Grandmaster again, Tan'ya was sure of it.
"What's a Jedi Lord?" She asked, suddenly. It was a question she wanted answered, and maybe it would distract them from whatever they were wordlessly fighting over.
The two feuding old men looked at her as one.
Suddenly feeling slightly nervous and self conscious, Tan'ya continued. "Master Dyas mentioned it. 'The Jedi Lords are returned,' he said."
Her Father suddenly looked incredibly annoyed, while Yoda smirked with amusement and poked at her father's calf with his cane. "From the mouths of children, wisdom often falls."
"My daughter doesn't know what she's talking about." Dooku ignored the physical jab, but not the verbal one.
"Master Sifo Dyas might." Yoda pointed out. "A doctor, he is."
Dooku looked at the Grandmaster annoyed. "A doctor?"
"Of history." Yoda hummed with affirmation. "Know the subject well, he does."
"Well, whatever Sifo knows, I don't intend to recreate the Jedi Lords." Dooku declared. "I've told you this a dozen times, and the Council members a thousand all put together, I'm sure."
"But what is a Jedi Lord?" Tan'ya prodded.
"A complicated topic-" Dooku began to say, but was cut off by Yoda thumping his cane on the ground.
"Rewarded, a Youngling's curiosity should be." He lectured her father, before turning to Tan'ya. "A kind of Jedi Knight, they were. Sworn to protect one planet over the Republic, and trusted to find and raise an apprentice to take on that oath."
"Like a feudal system?"
"Yes, similar but the details are different." Dooku replied.
"Not so different." Yoda countered. "Important, the broad strokes are. Very feudal, the Jedi Lords could be."
"But there was no blood relations between them." Dooku shook his head, dismissively. "Without blood ties, it can't be a feudal system. Believe me, I would know."
"And children often they would have despite their oaths." Yoda continued.
"Regardless, it isn't my case." said Dooku, his annoyance clear.
"Expert, are you?" Yoda prodded at him. "Hmm. A Jedi Lord, I suppose you are."
"I am the Count of Serenno, and a Jedi Master." Her father replied, his voice starting to rise with frustration. "I am not a Jedi Lord, but a Jedi who has a separate, unrelated title that makes me a lord."
If only to stir the pot, Tan'ya asked, "So can I be a Jedi Lord?"
Her father shot her an annoyed look, and Yoda laughed out loud at that. Between the two old men reduced to petty bickering, and the old goblin man's high pitched chuckle, the tension between the two seemed to have dispersed for now.
"So I'm to be attacked from all angles." Dooku muttered, ruffling his daughter's hair. "Is this what your loyalty to your father is worth?"
Unable to help the smile that split her lips, "Father, can we go to the study?"
"What's in the study?"
"Nothing, it's just quiet." Tan'ya replied. "Please, just the three of us? The gifts can wait, I don't want to have to open them in front of a crowd."
Her father looked at her for a moment, before finally saying, "Once we've you've opened the gifts of all your cousins and uncles, and if you show proper gratitude, then as a family we can open our gifts for eachother up stairs."
"And Master Yoda can join us?"
Her father hesitated slightly, before agreeing. "If he wants to."
"I do want to." Yoda answered, and added. "Look forward to it, I do."
After dark, the muggy air of Serenno cooled a bit at the top of the mountains as a breeze rolled in, ruffling Sifo's hair. Outside of the palace, in the wonderful garden of bright flowers and beautiful fountains, he sat alone and tried to meditate in the dim starlight. It would be easier if his head wasn't spinning, and if there wasn't the sound of loud music in the distance being enjoyed by other party goers.
Sifo could admit to himself that he'd had a bit too much to drink, and it wasn't the first time. The secrets he was keeping were incredibly stressful, to the point where releasing his feelings into the force wasn't always enough. What would his old friends think about him when they found out about what he had been up to? Would they be disappointed? Angry? Betrayed?
Yoda and the council had been furious about him misusing funds just for an education at the University of Teta, and that wasn't even a drop in the bucket compared to what was being spent on the Clone Army. Just the creation of a single purpose built cloning facility on Kamino cost billions of credits, and they'd built thousands. When complete, the Clone Army would number in the tens of billions, all of which had to be armed, trained, and outfitted for combat along with a vast array of specialized ground and air combat vehicles.
The debt that Sifo and Dooku had accrued would hang over the Republic's head for generations to come. Countless families would be driven below the surface of Coruscant by the government's struggle to even pay for the interest rates on those loans. All of this had been done without a vote passed, without a single consenting citizen made away.
To call it deeply immoral was an understatement.
But war was coming. Sifo knew it. It haunted his dreams. The sensations of hunger, and fire, seared his skins and ate him from the inside. A battle between the Light and the Dark that was going to tear this Galaxy to pieces, and leave trillions of innocents dead, in poverty, and bereft of their loved ones.
But the only thing worse than fighting a war was losing one.
It had to be done. The Republic would need an army in the coming years, he knew it. His prophecy couldn't be clearer, even if the Council didn't want to see it that way. Even if the Senate didn't. Even if the innocent people of the Republic didn't see it that way.
Stomach roiling, Sifo knew that he wasn't like Lord Hoth. He could never be like that hero of old, who never compromised on anything. Hoth had been given that name by history because he was like the planet, an ancient pillar of ice, unmoved by howling storms around it. Harsh, and unbending.
In contrast, Sifo's actions had already revealed to him that he was a deceiver, a betrayer, and lacking in true principle. No one would remember him as a hero. Even if the war he feared were to break out now, he would be too old to see it through. Every day his fitness slipped, and the weight of his burdens crushed him slightly more.
No, the Republic would need new Heroes. Decrepit, guilty old men would not nearly be enough to see it through the coming storm. They would need young, fresh faces unmarred by the corruption and stagnation that had brought them to this point.
A young mind touched Sifo's thoughts, and he recognised it instantly as his student. Tan'ya was searching for him, reaching out through the force. Gently, he sent her a mental greeting, and drew her towards him.
It was mere seconds before she arrived that he remembered to put the cap on his hip flask and hide it.
"There you are!" Tan'ya smiled at him as she approached, radiating satisfaction that she wasn't even bothering to hide. "You weren't at the gift exchange."
"Oh, I was meditating." Or trying to, anyway. "I lost track of time."
Tan'ya pushed herself up onto the bench next to him, and sat down with her legs dangling. The seat was too high for her feet to touch the ground.
"Here." She said, and offered him a white box wrapped in a red ribbon. "For you."
Eyebrow raised, Sifo accepted the gift and wordlessly took the lid off it. Inside he was curious to find an old-fashioned flimsibook, but newly published if the polished sheen of its cover was anything to judge by. The title shocked him. 'A Complete History of the Galactic Republic: Volume 1.' It even had cover art, using a picture of the earliest discovered star chart from the era, depicted in white on a black background.
"Do you like it?" Tan'ya asked him, seeming slightly nervous in the force.
In his hands was perfect clay. While working on the book together, Tan'ya had demonstrated a brilliant mind, a powerful connection to the force, and a real talent for the lightsaber. She was quick to grasp new concepts, and often understood military and political ideas without needing them explained as though by sheer intuition. Even more than that, she was a member of the Jedi Order with all the legitimacy that brought her, without being bound by their stifling traditions. She was from an incredibly influential family, and would be raised into connections and contacts all across the Outer Rim.
He couldn't ask for a more perfect vessel.
In time, he would forge her into a hero for the Republic, and a weapon to crush the Sith. In the great warmachine he was building, she would be its guiding hand.
Future generations would forget Jedi Master Sifo Dyas, but they would judge Tan'ya of House Serenno.
Tears welled in his eyes, and before he could stop himself he pulled her into a hug.
She was shocked in the force at first, before hugging him back and seeming slightly disappointed. She sniffed. "You've been drinking."
"I'm sorry."
"Master, you're heavy!"
"I'm sorry."
He swallowed, and pulled away. Tears rolled down his face as he stood up and took out a handkerchief. He blew his nose and wiped away the tears, before turning to bow to her.
"Thank you." He told her. "It's a wonderful gift."
In the force he felt the bemusement radiating off of her with a touch of disapproval for him, but there amongst the rest of it all was love.
Anything that was sent to war could not be expected to return. Not warships, or blasters, armours or people. No matter how finely crafted, or carefully prepared, all of it was merely fuel for the fires of war. Battle consumed everything it touched.
The word 'betrayal' didn't even describe a fraction of his crimes. A tenth of it, a percentile. Sifo would damn his own student with horrific purpose. He was going to build her up, only to commit her to destruction. She would not end the coming war without her own scars to bear.
Head spinning, sick to his stomach, he turned and threw up in the garden. Acid burned his throat as he wiped the bile from his lips, and she looked at him disgusted and concerned.
"I'm sorry, Tan'ya, but I think I've had a bit too much to drink."
"I think so, too."
"I'll just go to my room and sleep it off."
"That's a good idea. Let me just call one of the-"
"Have a nice night, Tan'ya." He told her again, and walked away with her book tucked under his arm.
"Have a good sleep!" She called after him.
"I will!" He yelled back.
Despite his promise, Sifo didn't get a wink of sleep that night, and his stomach never stopped churning.
Still slightly worried, Tan'ya quickly sent a message to M8-ID via her compad, asking the droid to make sure he made it to his bedroom that night. Then she went to join the family in her father's private study. Passing back through the party hall she saw that after the gift exchange most of the families had cleared out. The Jedi of the New Temple, who had initially seemed particularly tense seemed to have relaxed a bit, and were scattered across the room chatting with the remaining guests. Jedi Master Yaddle seemed to have a small crowd of them with her, and they were all engaged in some apparently very engrossing conversation.
Jedi Knight Ky Narec was talking to Obi-wan and Asajj, demonstrating the different dueling advantages of a lightsaber with a curved hilt, as opposed to one with a straight grip. Tan'ya had yet to master Shii-Cho, let alone graduate to knighthood, so it was all a bit above her head for the moment.
As she left the hall and made her way up stairs to the study in the central tower, she received a ping M8 confirming that Sifo had made it to his room. Relieved, Tan'ya pushed open the door and stepped into the room. Her father and Master Yoda were both seated, sitting in slightly tense silence while waiting for Tan'ya and her mother to arrive.
"Did Sifo like your gift?" Dooku asked her.
"Tears of joy!" Tan'ya replied, feeling a small amount of pride. He was a bit drunk at the time, so probably the most receptive possible audience, but he'd been so happy that he hugged her. It was practically the only time Tan'ya had seen or heard of a Jedi doing that, honestly. Only her father was ever so affectionate. Sifo must have really loved her gift.
Dooku nodded, smiling slightly. "I thought he would like that."
"Knew about his work, did you?" Yoda asked.
Tan'ya found her seat. "I was his typist. He dictated the book and I wrote it down."
Yoda hummed, and leaned back against his chair. "Capable of that, few younglings are. Talented, you are."
"She is." Dooku agreed. "Sifo has been training her well."
"Agreed you did, not to train her yourself." Yoda said. "But the worries I have of you, I also have of Sifo."
"The reason you gave for me not to train her, was not that you disapproved of my views." Dooku replied.
"What was the reason?" Tan'ya cut in. "I… know that you agreed Father shouldn't train me, but why?"
"Strong attachments are dangerous for a Jedi." Yoda answered. "The force mirrors our feelings back to us. Grief, healthy and natural, becomes despair. Anger at those thought responsible. Fear of losing loved ones again. Hatred of those who might take them away. A great test of any Jedi, losing a loved one is."
"But Master, you're eight hundred." Tan'ya pointed out. "And you told me you train the Temple's younglings. Surely you've lost more loved ones than… practically any sentient alive?"
The room fell silent, and Yoda's expression changed. For that moment he looked like a sad, lonely old man.
"Tan'ya, that's a very personal question." Dooku warned.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." Tan'ya said quickly.
Yoda held up a hand to forestall her. "Fine, it is. Many times, that question has been asked. A test I've faced many times… Accept it, I have. My species, long lived. Long ago, understood that I would grieve many times in the future. Practiced, I have become."
For a moment Tan'ya felt sorry for him. It could not have been easy to raise up so many children, to see each and every one of them inevitably die and fade from memory. The record of them would still exist, but the relationships they had and the real experiences they shared would all disappear in time. It occurred to Tan'ya that as a living historical artifact Yoda would be a treasure trove of knowledge.
Thinking of the inevitable passage of time, her eyes drifted over to her father, sipping at his brandy. He was already in his seventies, and in absolutely incredible shape for such an old man, but inevitably his health would wither away. Would his mind go first, or his body? Eventually, Tan'ya would have to help her mother bury her father.
It was a sobering realization.
Looking back across the room, she noticed Yoda watching her sadly. He didn't say anything, but for just a moment he opened his mind to her and shared his feelings. Understanding, assurance and peace.
What was the old saying? When times are good, children bury their fathers. When times are bad, father's bury their children.
Yoda had buried countless children.
Tan'ya offered him her own meager assurance and understanding, and the master gave a shallow nod before breaking off the connection. An entire conversation had been had, without a word spoken between them at that moment.
The door opened, and Tan'ya's mother came in followed by a droid pushing a hover dolly. "Sorry, I'm late. I just put Madale and Kenth to bed, and he was being difficult."
"That boy has far too much energy." Dooku smiled, shaking his head.
"You were the same." Yoda said. "A more rambunctious child, the Temple has not seen before or since."
It would be beneath the Count's dignity to roll his eyes, but Tan'ya was sure in that moment that he came close. She smiled, and spoke up, "Did father get in trouble often?"
"Constantly." Yoda harrumphed, then pointed his cane at Tan'ya. "Take after your Mother, you must. Too well behaved, you are."
"Oh, Tan'ya has her moments." Athemeene said. "The incident with the Trade Federation picket was exactly like the sort of thing it sounds like my husband would have gotten up to once." After relaying the story of Tan'ya
"Heard this story, I have not."
Athemeene quickly told the tale, and as she did Tan'ya found her cheeks growing pink with embarrassment. At the time it hadn't seemed like a strange thing at all for her as the heir apparent to inspect her world's defenses, but the way her mother framed the story and the way Yoda chuckled through it while her father smiled fondly left Tan'ya feeling strangely self conscious.
After that story, Yoda told one about how Dooku broke into the holocron vault on Coruscant as a boy, which the Count then one upped by telling his old teacher of various escapades he did actually get away with. Including the time he and Sifo hijacked a speeder to see the undercity, and returned it before anyone found out. Athemeene settled into the couch next to her husband, before taking a sip from his brandy glass, and shared some stories about the things she got up to with her sisters when she was younger.
Tan'ya listened with interest, pleased that everyone was getting along so well. It hadn't been what she wanted to talk about, but she was having a good time anyway. "Can I have some errera wine?"
Dooku and Athemeene exchanged glances. Eventually her mother suggested, "We can water it down and let her have a small cup."
Tan'ya found she didn't like the drink too much. After being fermented, native errera fruits became rather bitter. A nice grape wine from Earth would have been a lot nicer, but she didn't think those were present in the Galaxy far away.
Drinking with the old 203rd had been wonderful too. After a hard day of fighting, the taste of a sugary Germanian beer never failed to hit the spot. Visha had been always been an amusing drunk, prone to sleepiness, while Weiss had a tendency to get louder and louder as the night went on.
Blinking and rubbing sleep from her eye, Tan'ya lay down on the couch, using the armrest as a cushion.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to find a blanket had been draped over her. Who put that there? She wondered, before closing her eyes again.
The morning after, everyone but the Jedi were still sleeping in. Only Dooku, Ventress, and Ky were there to say goodbye to the Coruscant Jedi.
Never before had Dooku celebrated Life Day, but he was surprised to find that he'd enjoyed it. He was more surprised to find he'd enjoyed his stubborn old master's company. He and Yoda had practically been at loggerheads for years now, every holocall with each other stretching their patiences to near breaking. It could only be called passive aggressive when they weren't yelling at each other outright.
But somehow, Dooku found a small trace of regret in himself as he said goodbye that morning. He'd miss the little green fool, as strange as it was to realize.
Yoda said to Dooku in a lowered tone, "Approve of the New Temple, I do not. But if anyone can make it work, it's you." Then he hesitated, before adding, "A good child, Tan'ya is. Raising her well, you are." Of course, Yoda couldn't help but take a parting shot at his former apprentice as he headed up the ramp. "Neglect your other children, not!"
Of course Dooku wasn't going to neglect Kenth or Madale. Reaching out in the force, Dooku found his two and a half year old son starting to stir awake. Kenth was surprised and confused, at something. Dooku was curious at what, until to his shock he felt his son awkwardly, clumsily reach back to him in the force.
Two force sensitive children born to the same family was just incredibly unlikely. The likelihood of it happening was absolutely astronomical, and clear evidence that the force was at work in his family. Surprised, and slightly worried, Dooku hurried to the side of his still dreaming daughter Madale, and felt her mind through the force.
Perhaps unsurprisingly at this point, Madale's mind just barely brushed against his as well, and Dooku shook his head in disbelief.
Jedi weren't supposed to have children, but it had been known to happen. Among ten thousand members of the Order, inevitably a few young men would find their way into a brothel. The children born from such a union were known to be more likely to touch the force, but not massively so. Ki-Adi Mundi in particular had multiple children due to his species' need for fathers, and none had been strong in the force.
Despite the strange situation, Dooku felt a surge of fatherly pride. Clearly the Force itself intended great things for his family.