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Chapter 14 - Confessions
In the Senate Rotunda…
The Senate corridors were a plain grey as Amidala and her entourage passed through them. A curious choice, the young Queen mused, for a building stuffed to the brim with thousands of distinctive cultures. Though artwork adorned the otherwise plain walls, Amidala found herself wishing very much to be back home on Naboo, where the buildings were open and clean, and the sky was bluer than a carruga robin’s egg.
Palpatine, leading the procession before her, halted her train of thought when he stopped in front of a doorway, and turned to her, indicating that she should precede him. Taking a deep, imperceptible breath, Amidala crossed the threshold in the Naboo Congressional box. The Senate Chambers were huge, with thousands of Senators and their Aides. She noticed the room was designed to be a massive cylinder, with the various Congressional boxes of other races placed around the center assembly area, which held itself a single spire, upon which she could see Chancellor Valorum seated in the elevated box at the center.
With a sharp rap from one of the Chancellor’s Aides…Mas Amedda, her Senator whispered in her ear…gave a sharp rap of his staff, calling the babbling delegates to session. Rising elegantly from his seat, Chancellor Valorum took his place at the center podium. Turning his head toward the Queen’s box, he directed his voice in her direction.
“The Chair recognizes the Senator from the sovereign system of Naboo.”
X X X X
Meanwhile, in the Jedi Temple…
“The boy has great potential,” admitted Master Ki-Adi-Mundi.
Qui-Gon exhaled softly, his breath so faint it was hardly noticeable. Obi-wan looked at him, his feelings difficult for him to name.
“He is to be trained, then,” Qui-Gon persisted.
The other Masters looked at him in surprise.
“No,” said Master Windu, leaning forward in his seat, “He is not to be trained.”
“No?”
“He’s too old.”
Shock sped through Qui-Gon, and there was surprise on Alia’s face as well. Anakin, however, refused to show his hurt and merely stared at the two leading Council members. Suddenly Qui-Gon stepped behind Anakin, placing his hands upon the boy’s shoulders. / If they cannot see it, I will show them. /
“Then I will train him,” he said, ignoring the startled looks of the other Masters, “I take Anakin Skywalker as my Padawan-learner.”
X X X X
Back at the Rotunda…
With no small amount of trepidation, Amidala watched as her Senator stood, their Congressional box releasing itself from their platform and moving toward the center spire as he spoke.
“Supreme Chancellor, delegates of the Senate,” Palpatine began, “A tragedy has occurred on our peaceful system of Naboo. We have become caught in a dispute you're all well aware of, which began right here with the taxation of trade routes, and has now engulfed our entire planet in the oppression of the Trade Federation.”
“This is outrageous!” The cry came from behind her, and as she turned, Amidala saw that the Federation representative was glaring at her as his box also moved to the center, “I object to the Senator's statements!”
The Chancellor did not approve of this outburst, Amidala was pleased to see. Perhaps if the Federation continued to act as the brutes they were, this would prove to the Senate that action must be immediate.
“The Chair does not recognize the Senator from the Trade Federation at this time. Please return to your station.”
Thoroughly rebuked, the Federation Senator…Rabé whispered that his name was Lott Dod…reluctantly moved back to his place. Unfazed, Palpatine continued his speech as if the interruption hadn’t occurred.
“To state our allegations, I present Queen Amidala, recently elected ruler of Naboo, who speaks on our behalf.”
Taking another imperceptible breath, she rose regally, moving to replace her Senator at the podium.
“Honorable representatives of the Republic, distinguished delegates,” the young Queen addressed the crowd around her, “And Your Honor Supreme Chancellor Valorum, I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. The Naboo system has been invaded by force. Invaded...against all the laws of the Republic by the Droid Armies of the Trade...”
Once again the Federation Senator interrupted.
“I object! There is no proof. This is incredible. We recommend a commission be sent to Naboo to ascertain the truth.”
Suddenly, the Malastare representative appeared between them, with Ambassador Aks Moe addressing the convention.
“The Congress of Malastare concurs with the honorable delegate from the Trade Federation. A commission must be appointed.”
“The point...” Chancellor Valorum said, before his Aide began whispering furiously into his ear.
X X X X
Back at the Jedi Temple…
“Then I will train him,” Qui-Gon said, ignoring the startled looks of the other Masters, “I take Anakin Skywalker as my Padawan-learner.”
Alia sucked in a breath, glancing at Obi-wan; the carefully constructed walls behind his eyes collapsed momentarily as they showed his surprise and hurt for all to see. In an instant, however, they were rebuilt, so well made that she winced inwardly.
“An apprentice you have, Qui-Gon; impossible for you to take on a second,” said Master Yoda.
As she watched, Obi-wan stiffened slightly at the slight glance from his Master.
“The Code forbids it,” added Master Windu.
“Obi-wan is ready-” Qui-Gon began.
“I am ready to take the trials!”
Obi-wan had uncrossed his arms, moving forward to defend his master, despite the hurt Qui-Gon had caused him.
“Ready?” asked Yoda, swiveling his ears slightly, “What know you of ready? Our own counsel we will keep on who is ready.”
“Obi-wan is a headstrong, capable young man,” replied Qui-Gon, returning his eyes to the Council, “And though he has much to learn of the living Force, there is little more he can learn from me.”
“Young Skywalker’s fate is decided, Qui-Gon; for the moment, he is not to be trained. That is our judgment,” said Master Windu, dismissing any other arguments Qui-Gon might have made, “Now, there was another you wished us to see; where is she?”
Still not quite believing that they would ignore the seriousness of Anakin’s potential, Qui-Gon did not react to Mace Windu’s words immediately, but in the short silence that followed, he was able to collect himself. Placing a slight pressure on Anakin’s shoulder, Qui-Gon nodded for him to go. The boy looked at the Council once more, as if to memorize their faces, then turned and walked toward the door; as he passed her, he gave Alia a weak grin that failed to reach his blue eyes.
Returning a similar smile, Alia squared her shoulders; the slight, insignificant action was a minor thing, but it managed to bolster her flagging courage as she walked to the center of the circular room. Her breathing quickened slightly as she felt beads of sweat trickling downward along the vertebrae of her spine.
Yoda watched the young girl approach the Council, feeling the emotions she tried so desperately to bury deep beneath the surface. There was something about her….something familiar….
“Much fear I sense in you,” remarked the wizened little alien.
“Yes,” she said honestly. Why lie to him about that?
“Why fear, do you?”
“I fear many things, Master Yoda,” Alia replied honestly.
Yoda Felt her evasion, and was curious as to the meaning of her subterfuge.
“Do you know why Qui-Gon has brought you before us?” asked Mace.
Something about the girl did not sit easy with him; the odd, familiar confidence with which she had walked to the center of the circle unsettled him. There was a curious blank surrounding her thoughts, too obscure for him to pinpoint exactly. Her eyes and her stance were the only clues to her mind, and that made him ill at ease.
Breathing deeply, Alia tried to silence her mind, reaching for the quiet tranquility of the Force, feeling it calm her shaky breaths.
“Because of Cadis?” she said, trying to clear her thoughts.
“Many of the abilities you spoke of are similar to those of a child sensitive to the Force. Were you and Cadis not tested when you were young?” asked Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, whom Alia recognized from Anakin’s description.
The Cerean Master had felt the stirrings of the Force around them, and could see a faint circle of its power around the girl’s form.
“No,” replied Alia, shaking her head, “I was thought to be normal to their species. In fact, in some ways I was deficient, certainly not gifted.”
“Speak of them in the past, do you?” spoke another Master.
As Alia turned to answer, she saw that it was an alien of similar features to Master Yoda. She bowed her head slightly to Master Yaddle before continuing.
“My mother’s people were greatly dependent on what you call the Force, and greatly interdependent on each other. It is difficult for me to describe how connected they were,” Alia said, shaking her head, trying to make them understand, “You might think me an idiot when I say this, but my mother carried a piece of all her kind inside her, and all the others carried a piece of her within them.”
With a start, Anakin realized that Alia was telling the story differently. Almost as if….At the same moment, Obi-wan came to the same realization, and turned his head slightly to his Master, puzzlement apparent in his eyes.
“When she died,” Alia continued, not daring to turn around to face her companions, “There was a hole where none should have been, and they couldn't survive incomplete. They couldn't exist without her, and she couldn't exist without them.”
An inescapable note of sadness softened her voice, dimming the brilliant shade of her eyes.
“They had been immortal, you see,” she continued, her throat lowering her accent, her eyes becoming distant, “They had always existed, living as symbiants within the Force, and without that bond, they were all destroyed.”
After a small silence, Master Gallia leaned forward, the tentacles of her headdress swinging slightly.
“What species were your people?” she asked.
Alia gave a slight smile; just a small quirk of her lips.
“The University of Sanbra has called them Diathim, but I've heard many space pilots call them Angels.”
She sensed the surprise of the Council, as well as their skepticism, and stepped forward, spreading her hands in a silent plea.
“Please,” she begged, “If I have to, I'll show you.”
“How show us, can you?” asked Yoda, tilting his head, “Told us of their deaths, you have.”
“One of my abilities is creating mirrorpools,” she explained, hesitantly, “It’s a sort of memory projection. You'll be able to see them reflected through the mirror. It’s easier shown than described.”
The Council was silent for a moment, seemingly having to take in her words. When the silence began to stretch several minutes, however, her foot began to twitch as a result of her anxiety.
“We would see this…mirrorpool,” Master Windu said at last.
X X X X
As the young Queen watched, the Chancellor turned to confer with his aides and Vice Chair, Mas Amedda.
“Enter the bureaucrats, the true rulers of the Republic," Palpatine whispered into her ear, "And on the payroll of the Trade Federation, I might add. This is where Chancellor Valorum's strength will disappear.”
Amidala's heart sank when Valorum stood up again, a look of regret upon his face.
“The point is conceded... Queen Amidala of the Naboo, will you defer your motion to allow a commission to explore the validity of your accusations?”
Anger unlike anything she had ever endured before ripped through the young Queen, and she felt the irritation in her eyes that signaled frustrated tears.
Her voice, though full of accusation, was carefully controlled as she said, "I will not defer...I have come before you to resolve this attack on our sovereignty now. I was not elected to watch my people suffer and die while you discuss this invasion in a committee. If this body is not capable of action, I suggest new leadership is needed."
Murmurs began circulating the chamber, as many of the delegates speculated on what the Naboo Queen was up to; Valorum was looking at her with increasing alarm. With calm deliberation, Amidala plunged in the proverbial knife.
"I move for a vote of no confidence...in Chancellor Valorum's leadership.”
The murmurs suddenly become roars of approval and jeers, crescendoing throughout the Rotunda. But Amidala ignored them, looking only at the man in the center box. Valorum had an expression of absolute astonishment across his face, standing stunned, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened, before dumbly acquiescing to his aide's entreaties for him to sit. Mas Amedda, seeing the Chancellor's state of distress, took over.
“Order! We shall have order! Order!" yelled the Vice Chair, shaking his staff.
“Vote now! Vote now! Vote now!” the assembly chanted, impervious to Mas Amedda's shouts for order.
Palpatine stood, bending low to speak into Amidala's ear.
“You see, Your Majesty, the tide is with us...Valorum will be voted out, I assure you, and they will elect in a new Chancellor, a strong Chancellor, one who will not let our tragedy continue...”
Though she felt justified for her actions, Amidala couldn't help the surge of pity that engulfed her as she looked at Valorum's staggered, betrayed expression.
X X X X
“We would see this…mirrorpool,” Master Windu said at last.
Alia nodded in relief. A slight cycling of air seemed to pass through the Council chamber as her blue eyes closed in concentration, bringing herself to her center, reaching in and pulling out…
The members of the Council watched in silent surprise as a small point of light appeared before her, growing in mass and brightness. She held out a hand in front of her, palm upward, the other held palm out toward its light. The sphere of light grew in size and intensity, forming a sort of orb above the palm of her hand.
Spots of dark color appeared amidst the glowing brightness, growing in size until they finally spun in time with the orb, staining its perfection until all that remained was a blackish blue dotted with stars, the only remnants of the brightness beneath the black. Obi-wan’s hands had dropped from the folds of his cloak, hanging at his sides as he watched the orb in Alia’s hand drift upward from her palm, splitting into two unequal parts, the smaller one remaining in her hand.
Anakin watched her eyelids flicker as she moved her palm slightly closer to the smaller orb, causing the larger one to expand as it moved upward, until it was approximately a meter in diameter. In the blackness created before them, he could see a small cruiser flying toward them. A Republic one, by the looks of it, though it seemed Corellian-made. Slowly, her eyes opened, and her story began.
“Many years ago, my father was on a mission for the Jedi Council,” she said, her eyes fixed on the mirrorpool, “That required him to break off from the formal training of his Padawan.”
She heard murmuring all around her, but continued on nonetheless, ignoring it. The poison her secret had become was beginning to drain from her, leaving her exhausted but alive; she couldn’t stop now if she tried. Passing her hand over the smaller orb, the bluish-blackness dissolved as she illustrated her words with images.
“His ship was on course to Jabiim when it was pulled from hyperspace, and when they exited, they found that they had ended up in the Extricarium Nebula.”
Alia smiled faintly, her eyes on the bands of violet and scarlet-colored gas stretching as far as the eye could see in the vastness of space. He was filled with a sense of almost childlike wonder at the unbroken band of light. The Nebula stretched on a haze, the gases seemingly frozen together for all eternity.
“The Nebula is a trickster, never in one place at one time, as is recorded by your own University of Sanbra’s scientists.”
“Continue,” came the gravelly voice of Master Yoda.
“The pilot stopped the ship, and it was encircled by the Diathim. They were very curious beings,” Alia spoke with fond sadness, “Incredibly wise but also incredibly naïve. My father was curious as well, I suppose, and he tried to sense them in the Force. What he didn’t know was how deeply the Diathim and the Force were connected.”
As they watched, one of the lights encircling the moons of what must have been Iego changed course, flying now toward the Republic ship.
“One of them entered the ship, passing through its hull to its interior. This was my mother.”
The hand not holding the smaller orb made a slight twist, and the memory switched to where it was a close-up of the bright being. The Jedi and Anakin had to raise their hands to keep from being blinded. With the exception of one other, only Alia was able to withstand the brightness that surrounded her mother’s face. The other individual looked instead at Alia, looked into the blue of her eyes that seemed to reflect the sunlight surrounding the angel’s face.
In time, however, the brightness became too great, and he was forced to look away from the electric, unnatural blue of her eyes, to shield his own behind his arm, the image of her burning into his brain. She was beautiful, exulting in the memory of her mother’s essence, the depth of their connection allowing her to feel, distantly, the emotions her mother had felt.
“She felt his call, and answered him. My mother hadn’t expect to find a kindred spirit in him, a partner in the ways of the Force. His Padawan was a flame, a spark, but all she saw was darkness around him, and was drawn only to my father, whose spirit burned as bright as any sun. She loved him, and his heart fell in love with her own. She cloaked her true form, choosing to become human for a time.”
Instantly the painfully bright glow around the angel faded, leaving a woman with bright golden hair and slightly tanned skin, her clothes a white blur and her feet bare. All could see the blue of her eyes, the same unnatural shade of blue that Alia carried in her own.
“My mother spoke to his spirit, and kissed him. In that moment, she was able to see his future, see their future, and knew they could not be together in this life. Following the will of the Force, she took their spirits, blending them until neither could tell where one ended and the other began.”
The Jedi and Anakin watched Alia’s mother bring her hands together, two circles of light following suit and becoming one golden sphere. They watched as she spread her hands apart again, and the spirits separated.
“My mother,” Alia continued, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched her father’s back, the radiant light causing his form to become shadowed and distorted, “Took a part of him, and exchanged it for a piece of her, so that she would be with him, and he would be with her, always. But it was too much for him.”
Her hand passed again over the smaller orb, and they saw the man’s black shape crumple to the floor of the ship, his black-haired Padawan rushing to his side. Unnoticed by the rest of the crew, the angel’s human form dissolved as she passed through the ship’s hull yet again, flying away toward one of the moons.
“Father never remembered what happened, not completely anyway. For his mind to survive, my mother locked away all but the strongest memories, with the hope that he might remember her in his dreams. But it didn’t matter if he remembered her or not because he was forever changed, because he carried a piece of the Diathim within him. He could feel things that others sometimes couldn’t, and sensed a greater purpose in all life, not simply those that needed help at the moment. Father became much more attune to the Force that lives and breathes within all beings, rather than the essence that brings them together as a whole.”
His breath caught in his throat as he heard her words, odd memories floating in his subconscious, teasing him while remaining just out of reach.
“I was the one thing she didn’t look for, and didn’t see in their future. When she discovered she was carrying me, she took human form, so that I could be born in my father’s image.”
The audience was held spellbound through her story, despite her attempts to keep her voice neutral. She needed them to believe her, or her father would suffer for it.
“The instant before she gave birth to me, Mother changed back into her true form, so that when I first opened my eyes, I would not be blinded by her light. I grew up among the Diathim, on the moon where I was born.”
“How could you survive on a moon without atmosphere? It has been noted that what you call Diathim are able to survive in space without protection from the vacuum, but how could a human child? Any child, for that matter?”
A flick of Alia's wrist across the smaller sphere, and the scene changed, first zooming out to view the dark planet of Iego, then narrowing in on a single moon. It was as if a grey curtain had been drawn back, and all of them were suddenly looking at Paradise.
“The moon I lived on did have an atmosphere," she said, a quirk at the edge of her lips as she remembered, "It was just cloaked by the power of my mother’s people. Before I was born, they chose a moon and created a livable environment for my mother and I to live on, for a while she had to carry me in her true form, within her very essence, and that was damaging to both of us. Her people created a home for us, and maintained its existence through the Force.”
Looking at the images projected onto the sphere in her palm, Alia could once again feel the brightness of sunlight across her face, though Iego and its moons did not orbit a star. She could feel the light breezes, could taste once again the rain as it fell from the shrouded sky.
“I don’t know how old I was when I was found, after my mother’s death. Time passed differently among my mother’s people.”
“How could you not know how old you were?”
“They told me I was nine years when Matis Despin brought me to Dysis, but I wasn’t a child. I had been born with my father’s memories; his knowledge, everything he’d learned until he’d met my mother, I knew. But my mother had locked the memories away in my mind, for my protection, as she had for my father.”
“Why would she do that?”
“The human mind cannot sustain an entire life’s worth of knowledge downloaded in a single second," Alia explained, changing the scene again, so that they were all looking a young Alia and Mala, "But with time and practice, my mother had begun to help me uncover some of the knowledge in my mind. On Dysis, the High Priestess continued my training, once the Despin Clan taught me how to speak Basic, as well as the other dialects in their sector. Theirs was the first spoken language I'd ever learned.”
“Then how did you communicate among your mother’s people?”
Without looking away from the images of Dysis she was projecting, Alia answered Master Billaba’s question.
“Diathim have no language, not one that a human would understand. Scientists have tried to study them, but sound can’t travel in space. Only those who’ve been lucky, or unlucky, enough to be drawn to Iego and had one of the Diathim on their ship might know: they speak through music.”
A faint, echoing chord could suddenly be heard as the Council watched Alia’s memories. Among them, one man’s heart began to beat faster as he recognized the haunting sound. It was one he had heard in his dreams many times, and he looked at Alia, her back ramrod straight.
“Not with words, but with notes, different scales and tones. You might be surprised how many shades of meaning a single note can reveal. But all that changed when I came to Dysis.”
Obi-wan watched as a woman of average height with red hair emerged from a cargo freighter, holding the hand of a dark-haired little girl. Even as a child, her eyes had been unnaturally blue.
“Matis had to convince her family to accept me, finally threatening to cut her ties with them if they didn’t let me stay. They did, and for a year, Matis stayed on-world; I think that helped her parents and siblings to accept me. I became a ward of their family, and when Matis had to leave to retain her position as a pilot with their company, I was allowed to stay. Another year went by, and I was adopted into the Clan.”
Her hand passed over the smaller orb, and the larger image changed to a group of people circled around a table, a meeting of some sort.
“The Council of Elders didn’t want them to; the last time anyone had been formally adopted had been over a hundred years before, and that was a special circumstance. They argued about it for weeks, but finally Lantris convinced them. Two days later, I was given my Clan name.”
The image dissolved into a happier one, a celebration set amongst trees and rope bridges, fires on the ground and dancing. Faint strains of vibrant, exotic music could be heard as they watched Alia’s memory. Sensing the Council’s impatience despite their interest, she hurried onto one of the more important events. The scene changed, showing an old woman dressed in shamanic clothing, her face worn and lined but her green eyes sharp and clear.
“Not long after I was brought to Dysis, the Despin Clan discovered I had certain…gifts. I could move things without touching them, speak without saying a word, even heal wounds. Dysis is a world of mixed cultures; thousands of years ago, long before the formation of the Republic or even the discovery of space travel, it was a world of feuding tribes, united after generations of war and peace by Laria, a Dysean without ties to any one clan. Her own had probably been wiped out by a rival warlord.
“The effects of her rule were to lead to a mixture of cultures, integrating certain customs and traditions of each of the Clans. It is a modern world with a sometimes backward view. My powers disturbed the Clan, and Matis consented to take me to the head religious leader. The High Priestess is not a Jedi, but her powers are similar, her duties much the same. As I said before, the Priestess took me as an acolyte, teaching me how to control my gifts. We also discovered my ability to physically project thoughts and emotions, even memories. It was she who taught me about my natural resistance to the Force.”
“What do you mean, resistance to the Force? Is this not a projection you have created through the Force?”
“A resistance to being manipulated with the Force,” Alia said, correcting herself, then continued, “I lived on Dysis for six years after my adoption, before it was time for me to leave.”
Another hand-pass and the images came together faster, less fluid: a young woman sneaking out of a window, her journey through the tree-city, the fear in her eyes when she was almost caught, her shadow sneaking aboard a cargo freighter marked with a black keir-cat, its purple eyes brilliant in the pre-dawn light.
“I traveled for eight years, from planet to planet, searching for something, until I finally found what I was looking for.”
The images faded to her flight in the cargo hold; after that, they began to blur together, nearly the same one over and over except for one difference: in nearly every single memory, she was alone. In the last one, she was shown firing at a carrier-droid of some kind and running toward a sleek, silver transport, accompanied by two Jedi warriors. The image drew close to one with a green lightsaber, his face twisting around to watch her blast the carrier-droid to pieces. Amidst the blaster fire and shrieking debris, Qui-Gon’s face could be clearly seen. She spoke in a quiet, clear voice:
“My father.”
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From the Author - -
“Bear with me, alright? I know a lot of information has been thrown at you, most of it probably seeming Mary-Sue-ish, but I promise, for the sake of the story, I had to get it all out here. And…was the ending at all suspenseful?”
"So...what do you think of Alia now?"
Author's Notes
Carruga robin Just a made up bird. As far as I know, carruga doesn’t mean anything offensive, but if I’m wrong, let me know.
University of Sanbra Canon SW establishment; leading stellar university of the time.
