A Gift of a Songbird

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Nubian J-type 327 star yacht approached the Ossus sanctuary in the late hours of morning. A ship with few peers in the galaxy, it's beautiful contours and mirror-like patina drew eyes to it wherever it flew. The pinks and yellows of the cloud banks danced playfully over the ship's curvature, using the reflective hull as a blank canvas upon which a living picture was painted.

The yacht traversed the entire breadth of Sanctuary on a northward approach, then banked around to align for a landing at the Jedi camp's tarmac. A gentle feathering of the repulsors, and the chrome ship lightly tapped down on it's extended landing struts.

For a moment, the ship rested in silent beauty, broken only by the occasional venting of thermal jets that quietly hissed in short bursts. Then at once, the gangplank lowered. The first to debark were four tall men in royal blue robes and helmets. The Senatorial Guard were a vision of a bygone era - one that had been restored to use by the Alliance of Free Planets. They projected a sense of continuity from the Old Republic. A sign that the galaxy hadn't simply moved on from the tyranny of Empire, but that the stain of the Galactic Empire had simply been redacted. The one difference a keen eye might observe were the force pikes each carried - which Palpatine's infamous red guard also favored.

The Senatorial Guard arrayed in a wide square formation, bracketing the next beings to debark. Three figures emerged into the Ossus sun. First came Niev Minetii, from Sullust. The Senator wore an austere suit of navy and cream, and were it not for the starbird pin at his lapel, he might have passed as unremarkable. Next came Ulys Caed, the Senator of Naboo. The former jurist was dressed in a minimalist and reserved manner - for a Naboo Senator, at least. The high collar of his shirt rose above an embroidered jacket and tasseled sash draped over it.

Caed may well have been a pauper next to his companion. The ever-radiant Senator Taataani Meorrrei of Keppaa Brens wore a lavish silken mantle of purple, white, and gold. As if to invite the sunlight to her, Senator Meorrrei had also chosen a blonde wig of lavish length, drawn to drape over her left shoulder and trussed in a series of jeweled rings. Her outer mantle was cinched and clasped by a brooch of gold, itself embossed with the Alliance Starbird, on a grander scale than Minetii's minimalist display.

"jI neverr tjirre of thjiss place. What a rrusstjic beautjy jit jiss." Taataani mentioned to Ulys as she shielded her eyes from the sun with a hand.

[Ulys Caed]

Senator Caed likewise took in the view, not as outwardly pleased by it as his colleague.

"It looks somewhat more hardscrabble than I was expecting."

The Naboo man could not ignore the looming shape of the great library that had remained on Ossus for thousands of years. His eyes remained on the distant relic.

"Though I suppose the connection to the old era is a hopeful thing. I remember seeing the Jedi Temple on Coruscant as a much younger man. It may be many years after both you and I are gone before they return to what they used to be."

At this, Caed's eyes turned to Taataani.

"And then I wonder if the galaxy would wish for such a thing at all."

[Niev Minetii]

"Impressive progress." Minetti begrudgingly agreed as he took in the sights around him. It was clear that almost everything before them, save for the old library, was new construction. Ossus had been a tomb before this little project began. And now it was a thriving settlement.

"An entire Alliance engineering corps and a Cizerack battalion coming together to create something from nothing - on a non-Allied world, at that. I had no idea that you were so charitable Senator Meorrrei."

It wasn't nearly the compliment that it sounded like, and his colleagues knew it.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

It was only a secret that Taataani Meorrrei and Niev Minetii were bitter enemies to those outside the circles of Senatorial power - and it would take a dim mind at that to miss the most brazen of subtleties. Nevertheless, openly brandishing claws between Senators was simply not done, and so Taataani minded the charade of good feelings to the point that her genial smile didn't diminish an iota.

Charity. The nerve of the jowled troglodyte. As if there were ever such a thing in this galaxy as a charitable act. Certainly not. Even if it was merely the voyeurism of seeing someone else's happiness, no one ever did a thing purely out of some farcical drive to empty and diminish themselves to someone else's benefit. Certainly not Taataani Meorrrei. And while she certainly enjoyed the appreciation of the grateful Jedi benefactors whom she called friends, the Cizerack Senator had many other expectations of payments due for her expenditure of time, breath, sweat, and treasure on Ossus.

"Now now, Njiev. That jiss the Ssenate'ss charrjitjy. We have all had a parrt jin thjiss extended helpjing hand."

She had no notion to claim unilateral credit for the decision to render aid, but if her name were listed first, that would be a happy coincidence. After all, of all the Allied worlds, none had contributed more to the rebuilding than the Cizerack mother worlds. It had come with not a small amount of grumbling from home, and an expectation of some quantum of promised benefit. Her people were as realistic as she was about the fiction of charity.

This was far from Taataani's first trip to the Jedi Sanctuary. She'd been traveling here frequently in the past year - though often incognito. Her frequent sessions of wit against Abarai Loki were a relished personal project. In that time, she'd taken in each snapshot of progress, noting with interest at each milestone in construction. Each poured foundation. Each raised building. The din of construction noises had become as natural as birdsong. Perhaps that's why Taataani felt somewhat different about this visit. Her ears strained in the air, but she heard no pounding of hammers or whine of power tools. The skyline was devoid of cranes. All of these absences pointed to one thing...

...the Alliance project on Ossus was nearing it's end.

[Kallum Romanoch]

The problem with Nabooian handmaidens was the layers. On the outside, their dresses were simple elegant things. But this was a deception designed to surprise marauding invaders and hold them at bay with elaborate defensive countermeasures. So many, in fact, that it would've come as small surprise to find nought but a wisp of smoke beneath all the fabrics, and the skirts, and the clasps. Fortunately, that was not the case for the supple and milk-skinned Vileena. She rode the tide of her lover's passion like a seasoned galleon in a storm. And all of those treacherous layers, conquered, were rising and falling like a blacksmith's bellows. But it was not the roar of a great furnace that masked the panting and the moans, but the deep dying thrum of the star yacht's engines. And, as the engines sighed, Kallum extracted one final ounce of pleasure before unhanding the handmaiden.

While Vileena unfurled her unceremonious bunch of skirts, he buttoned his trousers and produced a handkerchief to mop the sheen of sweat from his face. As an afterthought, he gave it to the handmaiden.

"Clean yerself up. Don' wan' deh Jedi thinkin' we've smuggled a Hutt planetside."

When he surfaced from the engine room, Kallum was just in time to see the three senators vanish from view. Up the ramp rolled a wave of warm humid air, and when it kissed his skin it felt like a gasp after a long-held breath. Suddenly rejuvenated, Kallum slipped into his Core World's tongue, and went through the rest of Taataani's retinue with the clipped efficiency of a drill sergeant.

"The senators will require a cup-bearer, and I will not have one of these farmer's daughters serving Senator Meorrrei the local moonshine or whatever pig swill they drink around here. Jaahaarro, make yourself available. And you, go ahead and prepare the senator's quarters with the correct silks for the bedding this time, thank you. Hraasso, the wardrobe. Irreeoss, the gifts." A last glance to check all was in order, Kallum straightened his suit, and turned to the ramp, "Gentlemen, let's bounce."

Outside, the way was cleared for the senators, with onlookers gathering in clusters on either side. There were hulking Cizerack troops standing shoulder-to-shoulder with handsome Alliance officers, there were engineers in greasy jumpsuits making conversation with droids, and now, finely-dressed politicians were about to mix it up with dusty-cloaked wizards. What a strange place this was. Kallum was aware of the matron's fondness for this world, but, now that he saw it with his own eyes, he didn't know what to make of it; the Sanctuary settlement, with its rich variety of buildings and ramshackle design, looked like something from an old gunslinger holo that had been financed by the wealthy. And it had indeed been financed by the very wealthy, but to what end? The Jedi Order was, much like the Senatorial Guard, a nostalgic symbol of stability; a political bauble, as it were. But, unlike the Senatorial Guard, Kallum wondered if the Jedi were doomed to forever gather dust on this rock like so many ornaments on a shelf.

[Ulys Caed]

The Senatorial staff had begun to debark from the yacht after their patrons, each blinking squinty-eyed into the sudden brightness of Ossus morning. Senator Caed turned back to see one particular familiar face stepping down the ramp.

"Ah, good, Vileena."

The handmaiden stepped forward through the throng, mindful not to let her dark eyes settle on Kallum Romanoch for too long.

"How may I be of service, Senator?"

Caed only glanced at the girl, his eyes returning to a stoic's gaze across the settlement ahead.

"Our arrival was not announced. Would you send word to the Jedi council that representatives of the Galactic Senate wish to meet? I have time enough to see the sights, but I fear a day in this sun and I shall return home as brown as a bean."

Vileena nodded in affirmation.

"Yes, Senator. Of course."

Turning to leave, the Naboo handmaiden passed the other two Senators with as much discretion as she was able, to keep from blocking their view.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Something tickled Taataani's nose a moment after the Naboo handmaiden made her exit. It didn't take her long to discern what drew her attention. No doubt Caed had missed it, and Minetii was far too self-absorbed to care, even if he lacked the biological ability to pick it out. Senator Meorrrei's head turned ever-so-slightly to her own assembled retinue, and to the majordomo who had assembled it.

If one were unintimidated by subtlety, Kallum Romanoch's fragrance was distinct enough. Taataani's eyes met those of her spider. There was nothing near chastisement in her glance. It was simply recognition of the deed done. A healthy amount of fraternization and co-mingling of the downstairs help was innocent until it was opportunity. It was worth having a talk with her useful man.

"Kallum."

Senator Meorrrei held aloft a dataslip between two fingers, an unspoken request for him to take it and act in the function of courier.

"Thjiss goess to the Jaani'saarr battaljion at the farr ssjide of Ssanctuarrjy. Forr Majorr Verratoa onljy."

Before he could take it outright, Taataani pulled back, prompting him to close distance within range of a whisper.

"That handmajiden, wjill jyou be sspendjing morre tjime wjith herr?"

[Kallum Romanoch]

"I can do."

Their eyes met in understanding. He should've known there was no getting anything past the matron, but that was fast, even for her. It was an impressive talent she had, to know other people's business; a talent to build a career on. Adopting the same low tone, and an inquisitive arch of an eyebrow, he said, "Would my lady like me to... pump her for information?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Senator's expression remained largely neutral, save for the pressing of her tongue lightly between lips to gird them against the dry air. Of course, there were other interpretations of that little tell. Men were so much more interesting when they were clever.

"jI trrusst jyou know how to be djisscrrete."

Which meant don't let this pillow talk experiment become a scandal. Senatorial underlings in a star-crossed tryst like some tragedy of the theater? It was the wrong sort of publicity - if it became known. In the shadow, Taataani very much approved of this projection of soft power. Sex was, after all, such a powerful weapon.

Her hand finally pressed the dataslip into Kallum's palm, slowly closing his fingers over it.

"Go on, then."

She again spoke openly enough for her colleagues to hear, breaking from close contact with Kallum as she once again took in the vista.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Senator."

With a respectful nod, Kallum left. In no time at all, he'd overtaken the parade of politicians and guards, and vanished into the crowd. It was good to be unburdened by the geriatric pace of aristocrats, who appeared to float through life like it were a pleasure cruise - which, for the most part, it was. Sure, he liked to take in the sights as much as the next tourist, but not at the expense of feeling like he was actually going somewhere. His days of festering away in the dank underbellies of cities were done.

And what a stark contrast to the likes of Nar Shaddaa this Sanctuary base was. On the other side of the crowd, beyond the edge of the Alliance base, there was a great yawning expanse of harsh russet land before the next cluster of buildings on the horizon. And, though there were many wandering the road with bowed heads and mournful cloaks that whipped about their ankles, Kallum had no interest in making the pilgrimage to the Jedi settlement by foot. Behind him, a speeder drifted out of the base, and before it could pick up speed, he lifted a thumb into the air.

The driver, a large bearded man in a sleeveless overall, offered to take him as far as the cantina.

"There's a cantina?" Kallum failed to contain his surprise.

"Not the fancy sort you have on Naboo, mind. But it's no Mos Eisley, either."

Kallum smiled, "You're a soldier."

"I'm an engineer by trade. Taking some replacement parts up to the comms station right now, as it goes. But yeah, I served my time. Figured, once the war was won, I could settle down somewhere nice, grow some crops, make some babies. Heh."

Kallum took in their surroundings: in truth, it wasn't so far removed from the likes of Mos Eisley, it was just newer, and cleaner, and dull. He gave his driver a sideways glance, "Not exactly what you had in mind, huh?"

"I don't remember winning a war," his voice had turned harsh, bubbling with anger. "This is you."

The speeder stopped outside a rather typical-looking cantina. It was reassuring to see that whoever had built it, had no intention of it going anywhere - like all good watering holes, it had been built to last. From its doorway, Kallum addressed the engineer with generous decorum.

"I appreciate the ride. And also... thank you, sir, for your service."

In the time it took for him to bow his head, the big guy scoffed, and took off at speed. With the ghost of a smile on his face, Kallum took stock of his surroundings. At least he knew where he was going now.

[Kallum Romanoch]

Before he pressed on, Kallum inspected his surroundings. He stood at a crossroads at the heart of a small hub populated by modest buildings, none taller than two storeys high. It reminded him of the frontier towns that sprung up around rich mining resources on the farthest-flung worlds in the galaxy. In its defence, that was precisely what Sanctuary was, when you subtracted the miners and the mines, and replaced them with religious zealots and their libraries. And, sure enough, there it was.

The Great Jedi Library dominated the horizon, its fractured towers clawed at the clouds and were made ghostly by the distance. It stood framed between an empty eatery and what appeared to be an enormous cargo container retrofitted to serve as a droid repair shop. Kallum stared for a moment, puzzled. The Jedi certainly attracted strange sorts. Much closer, and more more imposing, was the enormous starship he recognised as the Whaladon. Though he'd never seen it before, and though it was as unremarkable as any other heavy cargo transport (other than its sheer size, of course), the Whaladon had already passed into legend: the secret ship that carried the Jedi across the galaxy; the beating heart of the Wheel itself. On the ground, it looked like some great slumbering beast, ready to stir and protect its babies at a moment's notice. In its long shadow, Kallum noticed a cluster of shabby little tents, and wondered if anyone still lived there. A glance at the droid shop that was not a cargo container suggested that it was highly likely.

Recalling the engineer's directions, he crossed the road and approached the neighbouring apartment blocks. As he understood it, this was not where the Jedi themselves called home - their dormitories were near the centre of the settlement, where the buildings were larger and crowded - here resided the many friends of the Jedi who could make themselves useful in non-Force sensitive ways, such as doctors, electricians, plumbers, and so on. Families, too, Kallum noted, as he watched a father holding his daughters' hands as they crossed the street. They smiled as he passed, in a nice and ordinary kind of way. But what he really wanted was to see a Jedi; in his limited experience, they were a peculiar eccentric bunch who were always good for a laugh, even when they were not in on the joke.

Alas, no such luck. Kallum reached the end of the road without incident, and turned away from the settlement, away from the Whaladon, and the Great Jedi Library, and started along the long lonely road towards the Jaani'saarr battalion.

[Kallum Romanoch]

With the sun against his back, Kallum looked skywards and marvelled at the perfect relay of vessels visiting and departing the Cizerack base: shuttles and freighters, mostly, to ferry personnel and resources from the larger starships in orbit. When he considered the settlement behind him, he thought it would've been something to see what it looked like prior to the arrival of the Jaanni'saari workforce. Sounds of action, of large machines, in powerful vehicles, heavy boots, and raised voices, it crashed over the high walls like storm surge. His imagination took flight, assigning images to the din.

"Ja irra korra'nai, corporal," Kallum greeted one of guards at the gate, "I am here on urgent business from Senator Meorrrei of Keppaa Brens, and I must speak with Major Verratoa."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

The Jaani'sarr corporal took an initially skeptical glace at the human, but one look at the dataslip in his hands told her everything she needed to know. The skepticism slipped, and she nodded crisply, extending a hand to the gate.

"Thjiss wajy."

* * *

In the center of the small rec yard, a few free weight benches had been deployed. The Cizeri Marines took their fitness seriously - especially on foreign billet. Alien worlds with thinner oxygen or weaker gravity could let the less vigilant become weak. Therefore, it was encouraged for each marine to tend to maintaining their weapons. Major Verratoa spearheaded those orders personally, making sure she led by example. At five feet and one inch, she was shorter than most of the officers, but she made up for her height disadvantage in strength. After all, in single combat, you could always bring an enemy down to your level if you were strong enough.

Clad in crimson PT trunks and a sleeveless top, the Major pushed iron without a spotter. One hundred and twenty kilograms floated up and down, up and down, each push done in time with a smoothly exhaled breath as if she floated the bar on it. A combination of the Ossus heat and her own work had dampened the contours of her shirt, hinting at the tough physique below.

Out of the corner of her eye, Untaaura spotted the visitor towing her watch officer along for a ride. A humanoid male, and so smartly dressed in a place like this that he almost appeared foppish. That sort of visual cue demanded her attention, and the Major shrugged her weight up for the final time, racking the bar with a heavy clank. She sat up, snatching a towel off the nearby weight rack to briskly run through her cropped shock of blonde hair. The marbled copper of her skin glistened with sweat, and the lines of scar tissue that traced the right side of her face flushed a few degrees darker than the rest of her.

[Serena Laran]

The senatorial retinue had been unexpected, but when the diplomatic vessel had requested clearance to land word had been sent immediately to the Jedi Council. By the time the senators had sent their own message of greeting the Council members were already gathering in the brass domed councilhouse.

"We will welcome the Senators in the Council chambers, of course," replied Serena, pulling her long red braid over her shoulder as she spoke to the young female messenger. It was just like the Alliance Senate to arrive unannounced and expect an immediate audience. She pushed her irritation down and then released it to the wind as the handmaiden took her leave to deliver the message.

[Ulys Caed]

Vileena made her return from the council chamber, finding the Senatorial procession easily as they slowly toured Sanctuary's main thoroughfare.

"Senator Caed, she curtsied, "Jedi Master Serena Laran has agreed to meet our party in the council hall. We are to proceed there now."

Ulys gave a single nod.

"Splendid. I look forward to meeting the council. Let us away."

As the Senatorial guard made certain that ample room was given for the politicians, the Naboo Senator continued to gaze at the old library beyond.

[Niev Minetii]

"It's still a rather poor reception." The Sullustan grumbled as he in turn watched a trio of padawans watch them in turn from outside a dormitory. "We are Senators of the Alliance of Free Planets, not some regional backwater here to seek arbitration in a local affair."

Niev gestured to the padawans in passing. "They could have even sent these as a host."

Apart from the ancient Great Library, there were no magnificent buildings in Sanctuary. The new council hall with it's vaulted roof, drew the eye only because its modesty was only slightly less than the buildings around it. It was a sturdy two storied building, with little in the way of adornment.

"One would hope that the Jedi would take political matters seriously."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani glanced to the Sullustan as they drew to a halt before the door. She tidied the scant few strands of her wig that may have been blown errant in the dry breeze.

"The Jedji take manjy thjingss sserrjioussljy, mjy frrjiend. Manjy thjingss that people ssuch asss jyou and jI can sscarrceljy comprrehend, orr rremajin asss jignorrant towarrd asss chjildrren. jI've sspent morre tjime among them than mosst lajy people, and one thjing that jI am convjinced of jiss that the morre jI underrsstand, the lesss jI know."

The Baroness let a furtive smile linger, certain that her rival had no other reply than to scoff. Her hands slid from the fringes of blonde locks back to lace fingers together at her waist. The doors ahead creaked open, giving the Senators their first look within.