Question Sneak Peak: Killing Time : A Tale of the Star Wars

It is been stated over and over, since we first ventured out into space, the almost indescribable beauty that is a planet viewed from above. I promised myself I wouldn't give into any feelings of maudlin in this narrative, but when hyperspace opened and the Aces and Eights returned to real space, the world of Ruuria rushed up to meet me I couldn't help but be stunned. Tatooine had been beautiful in its austerity; the subtle blending the various shades of brown and tan in the sand and the rock. But Ruuria was a blue-green gem playing in a dust speckled fold of black velvet with little slivers of diamonds the shining reflections of the various star ships moving about.

So no, I'm not too proud to admit my breath caught in my throat when I saw it. It was a transcendental kind of beauty.

Ruuria itself was an interesting series of juxtapositions, a planet of jungles, manufacturing centers, and universities. Learning was prized here chiefly among the dominant intelligent species on the planet the centipede like Ruurians. My tablet told me that before the Sith Empire had suffered the Civil War under Darth Malgus, Ruuria had been an unremarkable but staunchly loyal planet of the Empire. It had last been important as a base of operations during the Tingel Arm Campaign back during the Republic-Sith war where the Republic had been handed a stout defeat.

Now it was the seat of Malgus's New Revanite Empire, and consequently the home base of Emperor Malgus' Imperial Navy the chief feature of this home base was a massive space station that spread out like a marina with finger docks. A frantic amount of construction is underway, of course, there were a half-dozen large Harrower-class dreadnoughts in various stages of completion, but there were plenty of other more traditional comings and goings; freighters, liners and shuttles all making their way around the port. Shortly after we left hyperspace we picked up an escort of Mark IV space superiority fighters that guided us not to one of the finger docks, but rather one of the high prestige landing bays at the stations hub.

Not to brag but it was a difficult docking which I managed with my usual grace and aplomb. I'm also sure that any lingering marks from the landing will buff right out. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. While I had expected a welcoming committee, I hadn't expected quite so large of one. In addition to the small army of maintenance technicians that began the swarm over the Aces and Eights practically before her weight was settled on her landing gear there was the better part of a battalion of Imperial troopers lining up as an honor guard with a little gaggle of officers and VIPs behind.

Fortunately I had planned ahead, not knowing how quickly I would be swept into the presence of my Imperial betters and decided upon formality. Sith are in fact technically part of the Imperial military, and like any military everyone has a uniform. So at some point the uniform had been created for the Sith for those rare times that they would actually put one on. I somehow had the feeling that Nyeomi wore her uniform more than most Sith.

It was a high, stiff collared tunic, long sleeved and belted that fell to mid-thigh in a dark navy blue that was nearly black. There was braid on the collar, cuffs, ropes, ribbons and medals sufficient to be suitably impressive, more so perhaps if you had looked them up to know what they stood for which I had.

Nyeomi was in fact quite well decorated. Awards of valor, commendations of honor, it was clear from the history of her service displayed in these metals just how desperately she had sought to make her parents proud. The tunic was matched by a pair of surprisingly close fit trousers based on Mr. Belos's interest as I was putting them on were quite flattering to my rear. The Uniform was then topped off with a pair of knee boots, black leather gloves and surprisingly a short Cape that fell to the back of my knees.

Capes were in fact the order of the day, as both Silas decided to sport his, and Darius had decided the uniform look to be a wise choice of action and on his Republic military uniform which also had a cape. Laura's duster seemed to suit her and only Torm was comfortable enough in his tunic and jacket. So with X4 to push the cart with a small mountain of cash on it I led the way down the ramp where I got the first of a series of nasty shocks this day had in store.

The head of the VIPs waiting for us in the bottom of the ramp was a huge, bull of a man, bald pate gleaming in the lights of the docking bay. His uniform was immaculate, seeming to have been tailored to his form and be draped with medals and awards. His wide somewhat florid face was covered in a great mutton chop beard and whiskers that left his chin clean shaven as though he'd stepped out of Victorian England. And though his visage was stern, his eyes twinkled and there was a ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Don't ask me by what knowledge that I knew, but as certain as I knew what happened to me, I knew that he was Brigadier Algon Fens, the father of the body I was wearing.

Protocols in situation like this are somewhat nebulous; I was a Darth, pinnacle of the Sith order, although being a flag officer the Brigadier held the status of courtesy at equal rank. More to the point he was in fact my father, and somethings always give way to nature, so I saluted him first. "Welcome to Revan Station, Darth Nyeomi," the general greeted in a rich baritone that immediately told me where I had acquired my distinct Eton accent.

"It is a pleasure to be home, Brigadier Fens," I replied, relaxing my posture somewhat from the salute as I stepped to one side to present my party. "My mission was greatly assisted by these worthy companions. May I present Silas Bast, master of the Aces and Eights?"

Never let it be said that Stuart can't take a hint when it is really important. He stepped forward, all smiles and offered a hand be shook which the general accepted. "Brigadier Fens, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is mine, sir," my father replied. "The new Revan Empire is exceedingly grateful for your assistance."

"My 1st mate, Colonel Darius Persia…"

Silas couldn't continue because the general's expression changed and he immediately put forward a hand be shook. "The lion of Alderaan, your reputation precedes you sir." Such a moniker obviously put Darius off his ease but he took the hand with a humble smile and made a self-deprecating gesture of dismissal.

"The soldier does his duty, general, as I'm sure you'll agree?"

Algon nodded thoughtfully. "I hope you do me the honor of joining me for a drink before you depart." Darius nodded noncommittally.

"Lanaka Fargo," I continued, pausing for pleasantries that were awkwardly not offered or exchanged. The two didn't actually growl at each other but settled for cool nods of greeting. "And finally Torm Belos."

Now I would've thought such an introduction to be particularly innocent and benign; worthy of no special attention or other clues of affiliation. In such a supposition I would be wrong, because my father's expression immediately changed to one of guarded suspicion and he thrust forth an outstretched hand like a sword, demanding to be shook. If you ever doubt the mystic origins of The Force, I would retort that you should watch the mystic ability of a father to suss out that he was just introduced to his daughter's boyfriend by stealth and any such doubts fall by the wayside. Algon Fens knew instantly that Torm Belos had had his way with me and like any good father was probably making up his mind whether or not he was going to have Torm killed for it.

"Mr. Belos."

For his part there is not much that can rattle Torm, so he simply smiled that incredible smile, that worked so well on me, while pouring on his considerable reserves of charm. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Brigadier," he replied easily. "At the risk of inviting myself as an armchair historian I'd be fascinated to be within eavesdropping distance of that conversation between you and Colonel Darius. In fact let me just say now the first round is on me."

My father's eyes narrowed. "Are you a soldier, Mr. Belos?"

"I'm a member of the Ord Mantell militia," he admitted with a sheepish of his shoulders. "But I wouldn't go so far as to claim one cycle end a month makes me a soldier."

One of father's aids leaned in and whispered something in his ear. It was obvious he was more interested in giving my boyfriend the third degree, but Brigadier Fens was a man of duty and he knew when duty called. "Captain, please escort these guests of the Empire to the station cantina with my compliments on the first round."

The Captain came to attention. "Sir!"

"Darth Marr awaits, Lord Nyeomi, I'm to convey you to his presence without delay."

I shared a quick glance with my companions then nodded to my father. "Lead on general." I fell in beside the general who walked with the determined but unhurried pace deeper into the station while the Captain led the others off at a tangent. In short order we were alone enough in our journey to allow for a more familiar level of conversation. "Is mother here, too?" I asked softly.

"Aye," he replied thoughtfully clasping his hands behind his back as he walked. "My assignment here seems to be somewhat permanent, she is down in the capital city househunting. She'd love to see you, shall I have her come up?"

"I'd like that," I said, my brain in neutral and my mouth in overdrive. "Of course I don't know if I will be sent right back out again…"

He shrugged expressively. "Fortunes of war." He took a comlink from his belt and spoke softly into it for a moment then returned it. "Congratulations on your success," he continued looking me sidelong over the bushy sideburns. "Tell me, speaking of the fortunes of war, and where does Mr. Belos fit into this narrative?"

"I don't know what you mean," I started but he clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head.

"We might be a bit remote out here in the Tion Cluster, but we do get all the holonet channels, to include the broadcast of the Boonta Eve Pazaak tournament direct from the Lady of Great Fortune casino." My cheeks burned with embarrassment as my erstwhile fathers tone became ironic. "So having seen who you were hanging on and what you are wearing when doing so I believe I've established you do in fact know what I mean, so pay me the courtesy of answering my question… My Lord."

I felt my heart sink a bit. "You… Saw all that?"

"In living color," he deadpanned. I stole fearful glance to find him looking at me sidelong. His normally inscrutable face actually had a hint of a smile, perhaps in remembrance of his own youthful exuberance. The important thing was he didn't seem to be angry. "So," he said almost cheerfully. "Do you feel something for this boy, or was he a prop to accomplish a mission?"

At some point I would have to find some alone time to consider just how perceptive either some of the people around me were, or how emotionally transparent I had become. Perhaps it was the influence of the Force that was making me easier to read, perhaps this was the reason so many Sith Lords made use of masks that obscured their faces. "May I answer your question with a question?"

"You have already," he declared with a shrug of his shoulders as he turned his eyes forward again. "But, go ahead."

"How did you know mother was the one for you?"

The general made an interesting noise in the back of his throat, not quite a growl, not quite clearing his throat either. After a long moment of silence when I began to think that perhaps he hadn't heard me, he finally said, "Not a prop then." Several meters of corridor passed in silence and I could feel the uneasiness in him as he tried to decide how he would answer my question.

"If I'm prying…"

He raised a hand to ward off my concern, then gave a discrete glance at his remaining aid which communicated his desire for us to be completely alone and the aide departed at the next junction. Then it was merely myself, my body's father, and X4 with his cart. "What I'm about to tell you, daughter, I tell you out of fatherly love in hopes I can guide you in what is obviously important to you. Your mother is never to learn that I told you. If you cannot abide by that say so now."

At this revelation, I couldn't help but stop and turn towards him my confusion rampant in my face. "Father?"

In an uncharacteristic breach of protocol, his face softened and he took me by both shoulders. "Your word, pumpkin. Or this conversation ends now."

My mouth opened but no sound came out. It had been the better part of 10 years, some part of my mind told me, since he had referred to me that way. Unable to speak, I forced my head to nod in amazement. He squeezed my shoulders, then began again on his way talking to me quietly as he went.

"I met your mother in a bar outside the officers fleet Academy on Drummond Kaas," he told me, his voice and memory distant. "It was a bar known to be frequented by cadets to the Academy, and so it was also frequented by… Let's say ambitious women.”

I stopped as if I had run face first into a wall. I can't begin to describe the feelings that welled up in me as my subconscious begin filling in the gaps of his euphemism. It was disturbing, especially as, from my point of view, these people have been figments of my imagination not too long ago. It made no sense for it to be so emotionally wrenching as it was. "My… Mother, was a common tavern…"

He wheeled on me his eyes on fire in his finger under my nose like a sword point. "Your mother, is a kind, selfless, and above everything else loyal, woman! She has been my companion, my tireless supporter, and the joy of my life challenged only by you!"

"What is it you're telling me?" I demanded, my heart beating a mile a minute.

He sighed and mastered himself straightening his tunic as he did so. "Your mother, has always been a very practical woman," he admitted quietly. "She came from a very humble family, and you know what a difficult place Drummond Kaas can be to survive on. She survived, and I've always respected the no-nonsense manner in which she dealt with her survival. Suffice to say neither of us were virgins when we wed."

He gestured for me to proceed and we began walking once more. "Why is it important for me to know this?"

"Because you wanted to know how I knew," he told me matter-of-factly. "And to understand that answer you have to understand what I knew and when I knew it. Your mother was a great beauty in her youth, and to my jaundiced eye still is. It was her one advantage then, though there are times I wonder if your strength with The Force comes from her and not me. Suffice to say I didn't go carousing in the bar, my mates dragged me along, because we were a squad and we were supposed to stay together. While they drank and caroused, I studied."

I raise an eyebrow and glanced at him sidelong. "So, what? She thought you would be an easy… What word shall I use? Customer?"

He sucked on his cheek for a moment as if he had bitten something sour. "What is the practical difference, if any, between a generic plying of smalltalk and a pragmatic statement of a business arrangement?" He asked sounding like a professor, which he had been for some time at the Academy. "There cannot be emotions at the beginning of any kind of what would be romantic relationship; except lust. So what we are discussing is the bartering of resources in exchange for… Time, perhaps intimate time, perhaps full on sexual favors. If you can articulate what is the real moral difference between a young man taking a woman out out to a meal and entertainment that ends in a romantic encounter versus the young man who contracts with a professional to receive the same services directly I'm listening."

"One does not necessarily follow the other on the date," I offered up feebly.

"The professional may abscond with her fee without tendering services," he replied sardonically. He shrugged expansively to show that he wasn't intent on pressing his point. "As I said, your mother has always been a very practical woman. That I love her, and that she loves me, and that we both love you, are things that you should not doubt or question. But that love took time. Your mother sensed that I was ambitious and that I had potential, she realized that before long the rest of my squad mates would be saluting me and she saw the path of being an officer's wife as a life that she preferred. And so yes she offered me the bargain; she would be the perfect wife, the perfect young officers asset, and she would work tirelessly in the social realm while I could devote myself fully in the martial realm and we would both further my career. She would enjoy the fruits of that labor equally, she pledged her absolute loyalty to me and has proven it many, many times over. And while there are those of my contemporaries who have divorced, or drink themselves numb so as to forget their loveless marriages, I with my "business arrangement" enjoy everything a storybook says a marriage should be; a daughter I could not be more proud of, a wife who has been a peerless friend, a lover without equal and a true partner in every sense of the word."

I shook my head in disbelief of the clinical history I just received a the beginning of my parents relationship. "Father, surely this must be some kind of statistical outlier…"

The professor's finger came up as he employed one of his favorite catch isms. "The successful make their own luck and do not depend on odds." He smiled at me, an odd cross between the smug professor who has just taken a pupil to school and the kindly smile of a father who loves his daughter. "Being a good judge of character is a talent that has served me very well in my career. I have endeavored to teach that talent to you and I'm confident of some amount of success in it. When did I know your mother was the one for me? In some ways I knew when she finished laying out her proposal. If you listen carefully, pumpkin, you can always hear the lie as it is being spoken. Your mother has been many things in her life, but she's always been an honest woman. There was no lie in what she laid out and I knew I would never receive an offer so perfect or clear-cut again."

We arrived at the door to the principal chambers and I stopped to face him once more as he made certain my uniform was to his liking. As he brushed off imaginary lint I asked, "so, you just shook hands and that was that right then?"

"Oh no," he replied is florid complexion darkening just a bit, or perhaps it was my imagination or some trick of the light. "I didn't agree to take her offer until the next morning." His expression became mischievous as he saw the question on my face. "Never turn down a free sample, pumpkin."

And of course, on that particular bombshell, he keyed the door open before I could respond.