Title: A New Beginning (0/?) Author: Jessica Barber Author Email: mara_jade101@hotmail.com Category: Series (New Republic) Keywords: None Rating: PG-13 Summary: This fanfic totally goes against the other one I've written called Dark Magic, be warned. But, this is so much better than Dark Magic, so please read it! I've put my heart into it, so give it a chance, at least read the first four or five chapters before deciding it's bad! This is a story that takes place a few months after Champions of the Force. It's about Kyp (of course), but mainly about a character of my own creation named Serena Maldrin. It's another Imperial trying to destroy the Jedi/New Rep. but it's unique, has a lot of personal ties/relationships and lots of action, too. Give the first couple of chapters a chance! Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Author's Note: I know the prologue is a little weird, but just give it a chance, it will become full blown Star Wars by chapter one, I promise!) A New Beginning Prologue: Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we start to deceive. Sir Walter Scott One year after the winning of Coruscant from the Empire . . . Belle, with her elegant hands clasped together in front of her, smiled happily as her fourteen-year-old daughter floated into the large ball room like a goddess, with a fretting, if you could call it that, CZ-6 droid behind her. The girl, her hair pulled back and up into a small golden-brown bun, smiled happily at her mother and at the decorations being set up by the servants. All of the servants were humans, not one was an alien. Aliens were not even allowed on the premises. The usually bright and happy ball room bright and happy from the numerous meter high windows that replaced the walls with sunlight streaming through them, and the golden dancing floor reflecting the jeweled sunlight was made even more cheerful and bright by the numerous and different colored streamers and flowers hanging from the walls and ceilings and set upon the white clothed tables that lined a far wall. Being in the Upper Class of society was enjoyable. No one could complain about lavishing in its luxuries. When the teenager reached her mother, only slightly shorter, her smile fell away. "Mother, Father says we shouldn't celebrate things 'cause the Empire has fallen away." "It was destroyed three years ago, dear." Belle exclaimed patiently, for her daughter knew not the reason for the happy settings. "Yes, but Coruscant was taken over not long ago!" The young girl's face became featureless. "Smile. Cheer up, dear." Belle said, trying like she had been during the past year to erase what the girl had been taught. "Show some feeling in that beautiful face of yours!" The girl smiled like a child, but too soon remembered she was fourteen. Ignoring the beautiful room, she straightened her posture and let the smile slip away. Belle decided that she should soon give up; what the girl had been taught she would never forget. Belle sighed and shook her head, such a shame to ruin a young, innocent, widely talented girl like that! It hurt to know that people felt that way about other humans, especially Belle's daughter who had left home a chubby cheeked little child and returned a thin-waisted, pouty-lipped woman. "Not as beautiful as yours, mother. You're an angel." There was a short pause, and the girl looked around the room with little care. "Tell me then, what is this for?" "You!" Belle smiled, delighted to finally let her daughter know of the beautiful future that awaited her. "Me?" The girl arched an eyebrow, "My birthday was a month ago, Mother. And even then Father wouldn't let us celebrate. I fear he's still upset about Corus " "Enough on Coruscant. You should not let it bother you!" Belle let her voice fall to a whisper, and she bent only slightly to her daughter's ear. "Remember what I told you: the Empire was bad all along and your father just fell into the wrong crowd. Secretly rejoice the Republic's and Jedi Knight's return." The girl nodded her head and a few strands of hair fell from her bun to encircle her narrow face. "I know, I do rejoice. Even though Father hates me, I sorrow to see him like he is." "Your Father doesn't hate you, he just has too much on his mind." "Then why am I to have a party if not for my birthday?" The girl asked, not bothering to argue about what her mother had just said. "Because tomorrow you will become heir to this estate and all the wealth your father owns, for you are the eldest child." The girl's eyes widened at the thought. "But what of Dearest?" Dearest was what she called her brother, who was a year younger than she. Though, he seemed to hate her more and more as each month passed. The girl loved her brother and ignored his hateful gestures day after day. "You shall take care of him. I'm sure you will let him in on some of the wealth." "I shall let Dearest in on most, if not all, the wealth." Belle smiled. "Don't forget to let yourself in on some of it, honey." The girl smirked, then let her features slacken. "I know, Mother!" "You should go change out of your dress now, honey, your father and brother are taking you to Diel." "Diel?" "To buy you a new dress for this ball. Your ball. Almost like a fairy tale, no? Not only will you become heir to all of this, hopefully your father will be able to arrange a husband for you." Belle's smile turned into a grin as her daughter's face turned slowly into a frown. "I want to chose who I marry. I have plenty of dresses. I don't want to go anywhere with Father or Dearest. I don't enjoy fairy tales anymore." "Don't complain. You can never have enough of a good thing! Go on and get ready, there is no reason you would not want to go to a new setting to buy a new gown. Anyway, Diel is a beautiful planet, you must look at the waterfalls!" Belle shooed her daughter off. The girl, instead of skipping, dragged her feet along the floor, heading towards her room. Belle's grin faded at her daughter's attitude; she did not understand why she was acting this way. Maybe she knew something that Belle didn't, but what? The CZ-6 droid stayed behind. She was the girl's personal Nanny droid. Even though Belle's daughter was fourteen, when she had been young she had been fond of the droid and ever since her return home she hadn't wanted the droid to leave her side for too long a time. The white droid nicknamed Cee cee had a soft female voice that could be very tiresome at some points in time, but at other times it was reassuring. Cee cee's voice wasn't reassuring at this time, though. "The girl is too active, my lady! I'm sure my circuits will be fried before she reaches fifteen!" "Don't worry, Cee cee. I'm sure for now she'll be calm enough." "Should I accompany her off world?" Belle shook her head, "No, just make sure that while she is absent, the cleaning droids are especially careful at not breaking any of her things like last time." "I'll make sure, my lady." The CZ-6 droid clanked off. Belle soon took her thoughts off her daughter's strange behavior and the droid's worries of falling apart in the next few years as another servant came up to her with her arms full of roses, asking where she would like them. Tomorrow was the big day. Belle had so much to ready she did not have time to say goodbye to her daughter. It did not matter, she would see her in less than twenty hours. Diel was only four hours from home. It could not take them too long to find a dress on a beautiful, tourist planet like Diel. "She has a special talent, Belle, like mine." Belle smiled at her handsome husband. "I know, dear. I have been teaching her the skills you told me to." "Ah, and that you have, Love." The tall man kissed Belle on her ivory- skinned cheek. "She is strong and valiant." "So is our son." She said softly, and yet the words were under toned with a strongness that meant the woman believed what she said to be true. "But she excels in it, unlike our son. This will be the root of jealousy between the two, it shall grow," he warned Belle. "The two love each other dearly, there should be no root of jealousy unless someone else plants the seed. Anyway, dear, you are teaching him well . . . he shall grow up to be chivalrous and strong also." "He will . . . our daughter, though . . . may never have that chance." Belle narrowed her eyes questionably, "What did you just say?" The man's green eyes widened in surprise, he stuttered, "I mean . . . obviously she is already chivalrous, she will not need any growing to become what . . . what she already is." "I'm not stupid, Cee Cee. Something bad is going to happen there . . . I can sense it . . . somehow." The CZ-6 droid swivelled her head to face the young girl. "My Lady, you must be mistaken. No harm can come from picking out a dress." "Why not pick one out here? Father has something planned . . . he hates me, too, so it must be something bad. But Dearest would never let anything bad happen to me," The light brown haired girl took her gaze away from the small blaster she had slipped into her empty boots and looked up at the boxy droid, "right? Dearest does love me, all that meanness that he's shown me doesn't really mean anything, right?" "I do not understand human nature, my Lady." The young girl sighed and left her boots by the floor. "I'm going to go find Dearest and see what he says . . . see what he feels. I'm sure something is going to happen, and I know Dearest will have a part in it, the only question is whose side is he going to be on?" * * * Belle would not let the servants console her. She ran from their grasp and into the ballroom that was still happily decorated. What flowers she could reach she pulled apart, petals by the handful, throwing them on the golden floor, lit by the blue moonlight glowing through the window-walls. What streamers her delicate hands could reach, she pulled down and shredded. In the darkness the once bright orange, red, and blue colors now seemed as though they were an ominous black. Finally exhausted, from lack of sleep the entire six nights and days her daughter, husband, and son had been missing, and from the many tears she had shed, Belle fell onto her knees into a small pile of shredded paper and broken flower petals. The broken flowers' wonderful smell surrounded the woman, and she wished with all her heart that she could burn them. The ball room the day of the will-making had been filled with beautifully clad humans. No other beings; her husband as an Imperial could not stand the others. The women and men were dressed gaily and they talked happily as if there were no care in the world. They weren't all Imperials, so most of them had more reasons than this one to be happy. The small, fledgling New Republic was quickly gathering planet after planet into its infant grasp. The Imperials, after the taking over of Coruscant a year ago, had scattered and fled, hopefully never returning. The galaxy would soon be restored to peace and happiness as in the days of the Old Republic. After two hours of neither the man of the house nor his eldest child showing up, the crowd began to dwindle, until an hour and half later there was no one left but Belle and the servants. Belle had been worried since the beginning, but now she was miserable. For all she knew they had been attacked by Pirates and were dead. At this thought, tears that Belle thought could not be there fell from her eyes and she sobbed, covering her face in her hands, rocking her frail body back and forth as if by doing so she could somehow console herself. Hard, booted feet echoed across the large room. Belle slowly raised her tear-stained face. Two men, obviously battered -- cut, bruised, and the shorter one limping -- stepped into the room. He smiled as he watched his wife fly up and run to him and his son. The younger man, thirteen-years-old, did a bad job of holding back his happiness and glee of finally being rid of his elder sister. The man wrapped his arms around his wife, wincing in fake pain as she pressed up against him, and whispered how much she loved him and had fretted and worried about them. Finally, something struck his wife as horrifyingly odd. Her daughter wasn't there to greet her with tears of joy. "Where is she? Dear, where is she?" Belle cried out, fresh tears falling down her beautiful face. A face much like her daughters . . . identical. The father of the boy and girl quickly explained how dangerous the wind currents of Diel had been. How he had tried to land safely, but a storm had come up. How their daughter and son had been in the back, and at the last moment their son had run to the front of the ship. How one last wind current knocked the ship over, and it had hit a small building, tail first. How their daughter had bled to death. How she had been dead and at peace when he had finally reached her. Belle backed away from her husband who seemed to have almost enjoyed telling her all that had happened. No, she was crazy. He could not feel a thing like happiness at their daughter's death. She looked down to her son, and even through the darkness of the room she could see the happy smirk on his face. She had to be crazy, it was obvious that they knew her to be, too. She was dead, the girl that meant the universe to her -- meant more to her than her soul and life! -- was dead. If her daughter were dead, what made life worth living? What ever affected her daughter affected Belle. What ever her daughter did, they did it together! Her daughter's life was her own. Her daughter's life was gone, as would soon be her own. Belle could make their souls meet faster than life wanted. It was impossible, she would have known if her daughter had died. Some spirit from the life after would have surely flown and whispered to her in her ear that her daughter was dead and with them. That sounded impossible, but her daughter's death was even more impossible. It was impossible, because as soon as her husband had died, or sooner, she and her daughter would have sold everything and run away to Coruscant to start life anew, to start a life where they could serve the New Republic and live happily. Finally, not knowing what to do, Belle pushed past her husband and son, running past them, heading towards her daughter's room. He smiled as his wife ran past him, past the point of being able to scream of shock, faint, or even cry. He hadn't killed the brat, oh, no. But the little brat might have killed him and her brother if he hadn't been careful to slip her precious blaster out of her boot before she had had the opportunity to put it on the day they had left. As a joke he had put the blaster back where she usually kept it, the top drawer of her dresser. Instead of killing her, he had left her to a worse fate; life on some wretched planet, with a ship of course, but he had warned her that if she even dared to show herself to him or anyone in their family again, he would kill her. If he ever saw her again, no matter where, he would kill her. And, if one day he felt like it, he would find her and kill her just for the fun of it. He would not let some girl take away his son's rightful place. He deserved to be the eldest, and as a man he deserved to have everything his father left behind when he died. Belle entered her daughter's room slowly, oh surely the fourteen-year-old was asleep, or maybe in her favorite corner reading a book by candlelight. Yet, the room was empty. Bleak. Belle slipped silently over the carpet, as if she feared waking her wonderful, sweet, loving, precious child, or, as if she were Death, coming to get the girl, but not wanting to wake her up until exactly the right moment when she could sucessfully steal the girl's soul from this galaxy. She reached the girl's dresser. Nothing decorated the top, nothing but a single, holographic picture. A picture of Belle. Belle bit her bottom lip, bringing out blood. She shook the tears away as she shook her head. With a white, trembling hand -- her mother had always told her she had beautiful hands and arms -- she opened the top drawer. Inside lay various articles of clothing, a journal most of the pages were blank unless they stated their love for Belle or Dear, and the love Belle showed her and the hate Dear showed her. Stacked underneath her journal was a book of the Old Republic that her daughter considered a prized possession. The pages were worn to tearing in the large fictional section all about the Jedi Knights who had probably existed years ago, before the Empire destroyed them. But, underneath all this was a small blaster. Small enough to hide from everyone but Belle. Belle had given the blaster to keep her daughter safe. She had told her to take it with her no matter where she went. For once, the first time, she had forgotten it. Not that it would have done her any good. Belle wished with all her might that she could see her daughter again. She whirled from the dresser, as she heard running footsteps. Foolishly she had left the door open to allow light to fall into the darkened room. So, now anyone could tell that she were in here. They were her son's, she could easily tell. He was yelling Mumma! Mumma! Belle frowned in confusion, hadn't he been limping when he entered the ball room? Hadn't he?! Belle decided against wiping away the tears that slipped like an endless river down her cheeks. It would take too long, and soon her son would reach the room and stop her. Her daughter was dead, her loving, beautiful daughter. Perfect in every way. Belle whimpered and slipped the barrel of the small, black blaster under her pointed chin. No . . . she could not do it . . . Her face looked so much like her daughters, shooting her face would break apart her daughter's memory. Belle took the blaster away from under her chin. She put it against her chest. Her beating heart was easy to find since it was beating so very, very hard. Belle sobbed, and out of the corner of her eye saw her son, tall, dark, and handsome even at thirteen, standing in the doorway. He was not favoring his left leg as he had done. His limp had been fake. Somehow, Belle figured as she pulled the trigger and heard her son's heart-rendering shreak of no, that in some way her husband had tricked her terribly into believing a lie . . .