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Chapter Text

Bail Prestor, now Organa, was more than a bit out of his depth in this senate gala. A celebration of the renewal of mandalore under the rule of duchess Kryze. The young woman seemed just as uncomfortable being in the spotlight as he was in his youth. Then again, it wasn’t every day you saw a 19 year old woman take over the greatest warrior culture in the galaxy.

The brand new senator took his time examining his surroundings. Chancellor Kapalna was exchanging some words with the senator from the chomnel system and a representative from the banking clan. Hidden in one of the corners was one master Qui-Gon Jinn with a young padawan who seemed to pass his time looking at the duchess. Weren’t they the one in charge of the duchess's safety after the assassination of the duke?

Finally spotting Breha, who was charming the feet of some mandalorian dignitaries, he approached the most beautiful woman in the room (and no he wasn’t biased at all).

-Ah, Bail, love, can you help me. Count Ajas here brings some delicate Corellian brandy that apparently predates the republic. Surely your experience can help.

While Bail knows that the experience his wife is referring to is his own at larceny against the rector of the royal academy’s liquor cabinet, the count assuredly did not need to know about.

-Ah, of course my dear. Welcome count?

-Ajas Mereel.

The tan near-human stood in a regal cloak of coal and gold, imperiously looking over the crowd. 

-Bail Organa, senator from Alderaan, at your service.

-Then im at yours.

For the supposedly rugged mandalorian, the count was actually quite amenable to actually explaining the situation on the ground. The man should have been a conferencier but for now he knew that Alderaan should open its arm and offer diplomatic aid to the new government. The discussion took an interesting turn, when the duchess became the centre of discussion.

While she showed more political acumen than many her age, her unflinching pacifist way had made her a symbol to vilify or to put on the pedestal of a vague « civilization ». The poor girl was currently being hounded by a few of the younger scions of the houses of Coruscant.

-You should go help her, you know.

Breha still retained the ability to read through his mind it seems.

-That I should, my dear. I will be right back.

Satine wanted to hang herself… or pitch herself down in the bowels of Coruscant. At least the depths of the galactic ecumenopolis would let her wallow alone about everything that went wrong since she got on coruscant. But no, even with a great grasp of basics, she couldn’t get every young man in the crowd to leave her with the exception of the one she wanted to talk to. 

Ben seemed to position himself to always be the furthest away from her while staying in her view. Shouldn’t he be happy to see her, at least come say hello…

She knew it was for the best. The duchess saw that the Jedi reputation as a mind reader wasn't mere speculation. For now, Korkie needed to stay hidden, safe from the Kyr’stad and from the image of being born out of wedlock with a jedi. Right, what was idiotic and blue speaking about. Something about s

some business opportunities and… prospects?! Again! Why do they think she would marry any of them was preposterous and…

A warm voice pierced through as one of the dignitaries approached… probably Alderaanian.

-Duchess Kryze, an honour to meet you. I’m senator Organa from Alderaan. I wished to speak with you about setting up an external recovery effort.

Oh thank the stars, someone had seen her despair and saved her. Let’s hope this conversation goes better. 

-I had hoped to speak to you on the behalf of the Alderaanian Royal Humanitarian Mission and to help you gain access to the knowledge of the Jedi Corps.

Wait, the jedi corps were that place Ben was about to join before becoming master Jinn padawan, right. And where were they going, oh no… nope, please for the love of all the little gods please don’t!

Obi-wan was quickly approaching the apex of both boredom and selfishness for the day. He had unintentionally eye-stalked the duchess every time she was in the room when he should have been guarding the room. Then Quinlan thought it would have been a good idea to just prank the governor of Eriadu, as such master Tholme had taken the role of outside security while master Jinn and him were stuck looking after the mandalorian delegation. 

Which meant more of looking after Satine and her people. Actually, a senator was with the duchess right now, why was she coming here? Is there a threat? Does she need to be evacuated?

-Ah Master Jinn, I'm senator Organa from Alderaan. I wanted to invite Jedi to set up a humanitarian mission in Sundari. Surely the jedi corps could be of use.

Good, just some negotiation for the reconstruction. No problem, nothing to add to the list and everything is fine. Everything is fine… So why’s the force seem to be insisting that something is coming, bloody hell last time he felt like that someone threw a grenade inside his hotel room while investigating a slaving ring on Nar Fedayn… Wait he felt like that because of some explosive.

-SHIT!

-Padawan!

-Ben?!

Obi-wan quickly grabbed the duchess and thanked the force he did. Now that he had the focus on the feeling of wrongness in the force, he also felt the absence that was moving around. Beskar armour, the feeling of muffledness, bombs. The Death Watch was back for blood. Senator Organa had the good idea to follow them. Master Jinn covered their escape as the first shot blasted through. They ran through the hall of the gala, evading the faceless rage and explosives charges as they rallied this floor safe room. Their arrival in the bustling safe room was met by the overjoyed queen of Alderaan and the reassurance from the chancellor.

-Bail, By the force you're safe!

-Duchess, the senate must present its excuse toward the new mandalorian government.

Obi-Wan tried to flee the attention in the middle of the capharnaüm that was the many politicians panicking in the saferoom. Sadly for him, Satine held his left arm in a complete lock. And drats… Master Jinn had the better idea of already getting out, pretexting that he needed to help his fellow master to secure the building.

At least he got to speak with Satine while they waited for the lockdown to end…

Bail really needed to stop hanging out with any member of both the Kryze and Kenobi family, because the poor princeling that currently standing in his office was ill omen (and the fact that the poor agent that showed up was a bit too singed for the simple rescue of a 19 year old mandalorian). Still, he had been the one looking for the (other) secret that had come out of the disaster lineage. One poor Korkie Kryze stood in the middle of Breha office, seeming quite out of place.

-You really have your parents wet doe eyes, right…

-What? Why are you saying…

-Oh! nothing, I'll just have to tell you about when I met your parents. But that’s a story for another time. For now, I heard you went to all the trouble to join the republican resistance. Why not the resistance of your aunt or the eternal guerrilla of your mother’s guards?

The young prince took a thoughtful look and finally resigned himself to an explanation.

-I know that my mother fought for a better mandalore and that she sought to better our people after our fraught history. She also pissed a lot of people by trying to modernize to the standard of the galaxy and some times that might not have been for the best. I would be a liability in my home. She said you were the first to offer help in reconstructing so when I received your offer, I accepted.

-You show a lot of acumen, young Kryze. Have you heard about…

Chapter Text

Lear was standing in the middle of a corrugated mess of faulty wires and rusted crate and yet out of all the dim and dank presence around him, the only thing that mattered was the little girl he was holding in his arms. The only one who survived his sins, the sins of the empire. He could still see the blood pouring into the riverway that composed the small village. He could still feel the blood on his hand as the sergeant screamed for the rounding up of all the villagers, as the men started to pillage the surrounding building. The taste of the ashen remnants of the once peaceful forest would forever haunt him. 

Lear had found her hidden in an old smokery, still filled with the taking of the week. In the middle of hanging fillets was the small girl, shivering through tropical heat with only a small doll held tight against her chest. In the end she clung to him and he ran through the murky water surrounding them.

Their escape had been the product of luck as much as cunning. A brand new colony needed resources and well, even the most secretive settlements came with a smuggler or two. And now for the first time he was made to think. About the ease of it all, how he and many others had joined this army of butchers because it was easy and it paid the bill. How easy it was for them to become monsters, because the ever encroaching machines of the expanding corporations kept destroying the locals ancestral lands. A few potshots by some overzealous young warriors and well. He wasn’t blind. He saw the camps. They would never be at peace here. Not as long as the empire stayed.

The reports were grim and those were the doctored ones, Bail was sure. Still the reports given to the senate were still some of the good sources on the happenings of the empire. It seemed that the empire had finally decided to pull off the glove within its less connected regions. Corporations taking over systems had been nothing new in the waning days of the Republic, but now blood was flowing freely. The only good news was in the Brekor system. While the new government had attempted to centralize its grip on power, most of the members of the republic were still simply rallied to core by treaties and not much else. It left plenty of gap to legally impede the power grab, just like the royal government of his majesty Dara XIV. To many “dissident traitors” in one place for it to be a coincidence. He knew there was a hand to be played here, only to find the cards.

His arrival on Brekor was… surprising. Between the dull greys of the barracks and the sturdy hut of Selleuc, there hadn’t been much colour in his life as of late. Standing on the temple grounds turned spaceport was a jarring, grand roof of red clay mixed with the massive cream wall dominating the surrounding valley. Gusts of winds were lashing at land, the tall mountains guarding the valley beneath and permitting large gardens to flourish. The kid (and god, she needed to know her name because calling her kid was quickly getting old) was only staring blankly in front of her surroundings. They needed to leave quickly though, as while he saw the port’s security was still mostly guaranteed by the strange avian humanoid that were the Brekorian, some stormtroopers were also supplementing the military base that stood to the side.

At least the modified ID’s worked fine, the clerk in charge barely looked up to inspect them. One problem and still many more to go, their foray into the actual city-temple was an experience all on its own. The kid (who really needed a name goddamnit) was clutched onto his arm as they traversed the raucous streets, bright banners of colourful clothes converging over the streets as the smells of grilling meat and the cries of vendors inundated their senses. By the second passersby that had the brilliant idea of jostling him, he gripped tighter on the kid (who had the great idea of running away with a kid he didn’t even know the name of. Him apparently) and quickly moved the side street, diverting through a tight corridor and escaping the hustle and bustle of the central road. Their dash through the diverging passageways ended in front of a stone archway, a small park lying beyond it. With their first bout of noiseless peace, he finally took the time to observe his… charge. 

The young girl looked even more ratty that when he found her, probably due to their smuggling being done on a dank freighter and not a clean transport vessel. Her brown eyes stare through him, his soul feeling bare as he looked in those pools of brown despair. He really wasn’t equipped for this. A tight silence held over them as she kept staring.

-…

-…

-Kid..?

-…

-Right… Do you speak Basic?

The tight nod he got in response at least indicated that she understood him.

-That’s… good… Do you… Uh… Have a name?

Another nod, good.

-What is it then?

Her face suddenly closes as she suddenly starts to look to the ground. For a minuscule instant, he can see a small wobble on her lips but she balls her fists and retreat into herself. Shit, shit, shit, not good. Of course she wants to cry… she just lost her home and he had stolen her from her people and oh kriff. What had he done? The only thing keeping him off this spiral, was the sudden tightening around his midriff. When he finally looked down, he finally saw the small girl that had decided that he needed a hug. 

-Oh… oh sorry kid, I was thinking a bit too hard, huh?

The young was still quite obstinate in reassuring him it seemed. Still, they needed to get to the end of this conversation.

-Kid… Kriff sake, i can’t just keep calling you kid? Wait, don't repeat that. Ugh… your name? You got to have one, right?

A sudden looming presence made him freeze for a second (too long) and jumped in front of the child, putting himself in front of the apparition. The tall being that had appeared was short-beaked Berokian, wearing monastic clothing over his… her..? feathered body. The sudden apologetic look coming from the monk seemed to indicate a more friendly disposition. What were they saying?

-…ry for the fright my fright my friend… You look like you and your daughter could use a meal.

Right, at least he was sure it was a woman he was speaking to now… Right… a meal. He hadn’t eaten since they left Selleuc and oh for kriff sake, the kid too and…

-Sir… Are you fine sir? Young lady, is your father afflicted with some kind of illness?

The kid seemed to be completely taken with the colourful avian and wait did she call the kid his daughter… Surpassing his sudden spluttering, he finally responded.

-She is not… were not… it’s compli… you were speaking about a meal?

-Yes… sir?

-Uh… Lear. Where could we get such uh… sustenance?

-Yes, the Prince Thamarasong is giving a conference at the monastery and anyone showing is offered a meal. 

-Uh… good? Where is your monastery lady..?

-Rama, sir Laer and the monastery is right this way, by the gardens.

As he picked up the kid (we will figure it out! Shortly, probably…) and followed the lady through an enormous tea garden that surrounded him.

Gray and black were bad, blue and green were fine and don’t meet the stormtroopers. Gray and black were bad, blue and green were fine and don… Oh! There was the temple. Compared to the rest of the fiery city, the mix of green copper shingles and silver accents was more in tone with the park's greenery. Added to the more dense presence of the green and blue uniforms of the royal guard, her destination was clearly ahead. People from all walks of life were flowing towards in a strange procession, beggars were rubbing shoulders with gaudy aristocrats. Monks were discussing the latest gossip with university intellectuals. Barely disguised officers were trying to camouflage themselves between the immigrant labour that came to harvest the fine silk that made the cashflow to the kingdom. If Bail intelligence was to be trusted, this was to be the first big public meeting between the varying forces that wished to overthrow the current prime minister. The arrival of a brand new imperial delegation had given much more authority to the current prime minister government. The crackdown had been swift and now… Well she saw the corpse of the leader of the biggest trade union hanging in the middle of the capital plaza and that sent just about the right message. At least (wasn’t that a way to rationalize it), the murder had served as the call for unity against the government that no one figure could make.

Oh and they had curried meat offered by the temple to anyone that came by. That would have made the Jedi more popular in her days.

The temple was full of voices and roving bodies. Bright plumage were shining through as they were naturally pushed away from the kitchen and into an amassing of bodies that were forming in an alcove. Mostly composed of a near-human family, he stood out like a sore thumb, a young soldier amongst the agricultural workers. The kid was currently glued to his side, eating the spicy meat and sticky rice that had been kindly dolled out to them. Not long after she had taken her fill and finally passed the bowl on to him. It wasn’t long after that a tall Berokian finally took the stage in front of a suddenly subdued crowd, flanked by two mace bearing guards. The sudden cry that shook the temple, forced the small presence into his side as he choked on the braised venison. A mantra was repeated by the many other Berokian, his section staying much more subdued.

Once the tension finally came down, the prince started a speech, continuing in the musical language of its people. For as much as Lear would have liked to understand what was happening, he couldn’t understand the language and was quite happy that Basic was still the lingua franca. For now he observed his surroundings. To the right of the prince stood a large bench with a group of men in formal clothes. The priestly folk mostly kept to the mezzanine above them listening peacefully, to the inverse of the garish mix of aristocratic lords that were standing to the side, constantly whispering. In the center of the room was the central crowd, composed of varying militants that were listening in rapt attention and hidden among them a strange hooded woman. By the time he had spotted her, she was already moving away. Gliding through the crowd she disappeared into the mess of petty officers that was standing by the door. 

As the final word of the prince's speech rang through the air, the man sitting by him finally took the stage. More speeches were to come but he had his fill of food and more discussion but he needed to find shelter for the night, food for another day and find the kids name. The sudden hold on his coat as he left the temple put a stop to that quickly.