Star Wars : Tanya the Evil

( 32 BBY )

Sitting by herself in her bedroom, Tan'ya typed away at her keyboard without glancing at the keys or looking away from her work. When she was like this it was easy to lose track of time, hyperfocusing on her writing. With the Palace to herself for a few days, Tan'ya decided to spend her time productively by working on Volume Four of a Complete History of the Galactic Republic.

It was a fascinating topic, and after all those hours discussing it with Master Dyas she felt well prepared to continue where he left off. Especially since he'd bequeathed all his research notes to her, which included an extensive collection of reference materials he'd gathered over decades of travel across the Galaxy.

Of course, Tan'ya wasn't quite alone in the Palace. Other than the servants she had a bodyguard now, in the form of Jedi Master Sturn, who seemed to her surprisingly soft for his profession. He spoke in a gentle, measured way, and seemed to delight in almost every answer she gave to his occasional questions. At first Tan'ya thought it was because he was treating her like a child, but then he spoke to all the Palace servants and even the House Guards in the same way. When she told him about the book she'd worked on with her former Master, he'd immediately been interested.

Of course Tan'ya had provided him with a copy, and since then between meals and patrols of the Palace perimeter, Master Sturn had been reading his way through the series over several days, surprising her at the speed with which he consumed each volume, the shortest of which was over five hundred pages long.

"What did you think?" She asked him when he finally put down Volume Three, after returning it to her shelf.

"Bit of a decline over the first two volumes." He shrugged. "I just don't see why it needed to place so much emphasis on each battle and commander, when it started as a political and social history."

Tan'ya paused in her typing. "I agree, but when I pointed that out to him, Sifo told me that was how he wanted it."

"Are you working on Volume Four now?" He came over and sat next to her bed. "Where are you up to in the Timeline?"

"The Great Hyperspace War." Tan'ya answered.

"Ah, our first contact with the Sith."

"Not quite. There had been encounters before then, and you have to remember that the Sith originated with the Jedi."

"Oh, is that so?" Sturn asked, sounding impressed. "I'm more familiar with Correllian history."

"Understandable. I began my own historical studies with Serenno's history, my homeworld." At this point Tan'ya was distracted enough from her writing that she looked away from her work over to the Jedi Master. "I guess it's tricky, because we use the word 'Sith' to describe two separate groups. There's the species and culture, called the Sith, or maybe Imperial, and then there's the reactionary philosophy, which I haven't gotten access to any primary sources for, but seems to mostly just be an attempt for Dark Jedi to justify to themselves the things the Order may have denied them."

"You don't sound very impressed."

Tan'ya wrinkled her nose. "Sources are important, and so far I've mostly only had access to Jedi and Republic accounts with a distinct bias. Serenno had its own run in with the Sith, when we were conquered during the New Sith Period, so that's a gap of three millennia to the culture I'm writing about. We have some Hutt accounts, but they mostly paint themselves as the height of civilization, and paint the Sith as mere vassals whom the Hutts generously allowed to succeed."

"So none of those view the Sith in a positive light?"

"No." Tan'ya shrugged. "Orthodoxy would have me believe the Sith are nothing but psychotic monsters, hopped up on the Dark Side like an entire people using dangerous combat stims. The problem with that view is they were a distinct civilisation that on different occasions ruled vast empires for thousands of years, so they had to have some kind of stability. They led gargantuan armies that were willing to fight and die for them, in Galaxy spanning, decades long wars. They must have had some capacity outside their fearsome prowess in combat, or they never would have been able to construct a single fleet, let alone the hundreds of thousands of ships that participated in the sacking of Coruscant."

"Sounds like quite the conundrum." Sturn considered for a moment. "Have you considered consulting Sifo's holocron?"

Tan'ya blinked. "His holocron?"

"Didn't he have one made?" Sturn shook his head sadly. "It would be such a shame for such a wise scholar to have not left his thoughts on record."

"...Actually, he did." Tan'ya remembered. Right before he died, Sifo made a holocron and gave it to Tan'ya's father. Now that she thought about it, it was probably still in his office.

Tan'ya left Sturn there, while she went off to find the holocron. It didn't take long at all, it almost called out to her in the Force when she came near. It was just sitting in one of her Father's unlocked draws, not even hidden or secured. She supposed that her father, like her, had forgotten all about it, with the distraction of the funeral and the political fallout and the conflict with the Trade Federation.

She hesitated briefly, before reaching out to engage with the Holocron. The moment her mind connected with it, the device unlocked itself. This was the first time Tan'ya had ever used a holocron, so she wasn't sure if that was unusual or not, but she could have sworn reading about the process being more involved.

Projected in front of her was a life size image of Master Sifo Dyas, coloured blue.

As Tan'ya looked up at her former Master, a strange surge of emotion ran through her. No, who was she kidding? It wasn't strange. It was grief. Letting out a pained sigh, Tan'ya put her head in her hands.

"Is something wrong, Tan'ya?" The Holocron asked.

Of course it would be able to name her. Sifo had made this for her tutelage. "I wanted to ask about sources." Tan'ya looked up at the image. "Do you know of any more neutral sources on the…" Tan'ya paused, looking at her teacher. A new question formed in her mind, one that had gone unanswered for too long.

"Master Sifo… Do you know who may have had you killed?"

The holocron considered the question for a second. "Actually, when I made this holocron, I was expecting your father was going to try and assassinate me."

The revelation made Tan'ya slip her grip on the Force, the blue image of Sifo wavering and vanishing, leaving Tan'ya gaping in disbelief. It took her a moment to collect herself, before she picked up the holocron, and began to interrogate it.

...

This wasn't Athemeene's first visit to Indinor and the New Temple, but her circumstances now were very different from last time. In the past, she came to the place to visit her son, Kenth, meet his teachers, and see where he would be taught for the next twenty years. It had been a heartwarming visit, where Kenth had enthusiastically ran about and played with dozens of children his own age, and eagerly began to practice his use of the Force. At the end of the visit, Athemeene had left feeling warm and fuzzy, and optimistic about the future.

This time, she was struggling to keep her anxiety under control, not just for her own sake, but for the sake of the Younglings who were here. Most of the children in the Temple had already been taught to detect the thoughts and surface level feelings of those around them, and so in some ways they were particularly susceptible to the moods of the adults around them.

If Athemeene went stalking through the halls, letting herself be directed to nervous flights of fancy by her own fears, those feelings would upset the children. Trying to not feel something was usually a losing battle, so Athemeene chose to distract herself by reading to and playing with them, meditating when she was alone, and busying herself with trying to learn everything she could about the New Temple's creation and upkeep.

Any time not spent focused on the present, she found herself checking for the news about what was happening at Naboo. Questions would occasionally slip their way through her thoughts unbidden, about why her entire family now needed Jedi protectors? Had Dooku made an enemy of the Grand Temple on Coruscant? Would they be targeted by assassins?

As much as she tried to keep her thoughts away from these things, no amount of Kenth's mud cakes could really sooth her anxiety.

Finally, after days of worrying, Athemeene at last received a call from her husband. Taking shelter in her room, she answered it and before even greeting him, the moment she saw her husband's projected holograph, furious words hissed out of her.

"You better tell me what's going on right now, or I'm taking our children to my parents for the rest of your life!" It was a pathetic threat to her own ears, but it was the best she could do.

The Count regarded her for a long moment, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Athemeene, I-"

"No! Dooku!" She shook the projector angrily with each word, like she was trying to shake him across time and space. "What have you done? Who is it that threatens my children! Our children?!"

"Athemeene. Please. You're calling over the New Temple's holonet, which means the local administrator can access our call quite easily."

"How much longer do I have to wait, Dooku?" Athemeene demanded, fighting to keep her hands from trembling. "I need to know! I can't bear this any longer…"

"...Yes, I'll tell you everything." He spoke calmly, which at this moment almost made her feel more angry. "Go to my ship, it's still parked at the New Temple. Go alone. Use the secure line, and call me on this number again. I promise you the truth."

...

Apparently, chapters write themselves faster when Power Stones are involved. Who knew?

Feel free to test the theory go ahead, toss a few my way.

...

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