Hello, Mother...

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The events transpiring on Naboo had been a chaotic mess. Order was restored quickly after the assassination attempts ended, but Graxin still found himself on edge. The sense of danger was at the back of his mind now, however, as his naked fingers were held in a warm embrace by his patient's eviscerated muscle.

He was no master healer, nor was he completely new. He wished to help people, to repay his debt to the galaxy, and creating rather than destroying certainly seemed the way. He was forced to do an emergency form of surgery out in the courtyard. The little girl he was operating on had caught shrapnel where her right arm met with her torso.

The shattered bone and mess of ripped muscle would result in an amputation. Graxin was trying to prevent that. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his mind was settled on the wound. He willed the force to slowly piece together the shattered bone. Each cell of marrow was forced to duplicate at an accelerated rate. The bone began to regenerate at a slow, but visible pace. It was a start.

The girl had lost consciousness, and would remain so until the other medics finished with their own patients, or the wounded were transferred to a hospital. Either way, he would continue to try.


[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

After all the chaos died down, after the medical team finally arrived, Feena was able to heal calmly and carefully. She had forgotten for the moment that she was Queen now, and not just a simple healer. She knelt over an elderlywoman with a wounded knee.

"Careful," she whispered, pouring crystal clear water over the wound to clean it out, "It's alright now. Don't worry. They won't come back."
"Majesty-"
"No, no. Not now. Right now, I am taking care of you."

She caught a smile from the elderly woman and she placed a hand against her wound, slowly stitching the flesh together under her hands. When it was done, she pulled away, dizzy. Today had taken much out of her. Healing often did when you weren't prepared for it, and the new Queen certainly was not prepared. She was tired, missed two meals today, and worse yet, forgot to take her medicine. Her doctor would have a heart attack if he knew. And her husband... She didn't even want to think about what Keter would do when he found out about today.

"There we are. Now, these boys are going to take you to Naboo's finest hospital and let you recover there," she said, wiping sweat from her brow with bloody hands, smiling at the older woman, "I will be by later to check and personally make sure you all are receiving the best care. I promise."

She was going to have to put celebrating on hold for a while. This chaos in the streets was entirely her fault. If she hadn't been elected, none of this would have happened. She owed it to her people to at the very least pay for their hospital care and visit. That much seemed a given to her.

As the elderly woman was carried away, Feena caught the flicker in her eyes. A look that said something quite clearly. It said 'I will never forget'.

Feena wiped her bloody hands on her expensive, once pristine and elegant gown, now filthy with blood and dirt, town irreparably along the hem. She didn't look like a Queen.

 

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Cells of marrow became bone, and bloody mush became muscle. The effort was beyond taxing. A bead of sweat dripped down Graxin's forehead, and he discarded his cloak. The light durasteel armor he wore underneath looked odd without the covering, and extremely uncomfortable at that.

Though the skin covering the wound would never be beautiful, the girl's arm was saved. Two medical personnel came and transported the unconscious child to what he could only assume was a hospital. Graxin pushed up to his feet, a hand to his forehead as he tried to steady himself.

The Knight fought back the urge to dry heave. He hefted his cloak as if it weighed as much as a starship. The light fabric was thrown over his shoulder, and a hand run through his short ebony hair. His gaze fixated on [member="Feena Mason"].

"Are there any more?"

 

[Feena]

"No."
That was all she said for a moment. Through this all, she had been able to push the image of the baby to the back of her mind. It had been a convenient distraction. But now? Now she had nothing.

"You look tired," she noted, "Follow. I will have tea made. You can wash up and join me in my private study when you are ready."

She motioned for one of her assistants, the young woman Marea, to come forth.

"Show him inside, give him what he asks for. Have tea brought to my study in one hour."
The young woman bowed and went to stand by the young mans side.
"There is a set of some of my husbands old clothes you may borrow while we wash your old ones for you. It might be a bit big, but it should do for now."

Without another word, she started to go back inside herself. The only thing she could think of was washing the blood off of herself and changing into something clean. She would have to make a statement about the incident, but that could come later.

 

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Graxin just blinked. She was so very...curt? Simple? Blunt? He couldn't pin down the exact words. He remained silent as she directed the servant, and bowed his head forward. The walk was a bit shaky, and he had to consciously keep himself from stumbling, but the warm feeling that he had done some good to outweigh the bad justified the loss of energy.

His gaze settled on the back of [member="Feena Mason"]'s head as he followed. Who exactly was she? Were the visions only to direct him here, to open him further to the art of healing, or was it something more. All these questions swam through his mind and served to distract him as he followed close behind. So distracting were they that he bumped into two two servants. Apologies were given, and his embarrassment built as the servant Feena had directed pulled him away.

He was not sure if he should have stayed with the Queen or not; the decision was no longer up to him. The servant pulled him away quite literally, and his ability to say no was nonexistent. He was quickly cleaned and clothed as directed, and shoved off toward the Queen's study. The clothes almost fit him. He was large and fit, as the Graug had designed him to be.

His arrival in the study was, however, a bit awkward. A hand rose to pull through his neatly combed hair, and his lips twisted into a confused smile. "Tea? I've never had tea before...thank you."

 

[Feena]

Feena herself was cleaned and dressed to perfection in a simple set of long sea green robes. But no matter how they clothed her, no matter how she scrubbed her hands, she could still feel the blood sticky and warm between her fingers. Her hair had been combed out, but there was no time to pin it up, so instead it lay down her back in long curls, a simple comb of pearl and shell adorning her head.

She sit in her study now, alone. She was staring down at the elegant glass table, one of the only pieces of furniture in her office that had not been damaged. Even her desk had scratches all over it now.

The new Queen sit up straight and tall when the tea was brought in, and then, shortly after, the boy arrived. She nodded in greeting and silently gestured for him to take the seat across from her.

[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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Graxin only took a moment to comply. The Knight settled down in the chair opposite of her; amber eyes darting to every corner of the room. For whatever reason, he couldn't ring himself to make eye contact. The thought of it sent a shock of terror through his heart; akin to the terror Krag had shot through him.

He settled each arm on the sides of the chair. His mouth opened and closed many times, but no words came. He stared down at the tea, and left it untouched.

"I'm glad we could help today. Really. It was...nice. I'm not sure." He mumbled.

His gaze finally shot up to meet her. "Have we met beforehand? Not on the holonet, but....met."

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

"Yes"

The answer from the Queen was crisp, clear without hesitation or thought of uncertainty. She reached over for the tea pot to pour her... guest a cup. She was about to ask if her took cream or sugar in his tea, but remembered that he said he had never had it. She handed the cup over, plain. Perhaps he would drink his tea as she did. Was that sort of thing genetic? She doubted it.

"I've known you for all your life."

She poured her own cup, then put in two sugars, and a pinch of citrus. She was acting as if what she had just said was as normal as discussing the weather, but inside she was struggling just to keep her hands steady.

 

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That...was unexpected. Graxin's eyes narrowed partway, and his signature in the force was a beacon. What it gave off was a mix of fear, anxiety, and intimidation. He felt his blood run cold, and a myriad of thoughts drifted through his mind. All his life, how was that possible?

"You were a slave too then? I know the humans took care of me when I was too little to eat solid food." Graxin asked out of the blue. There were so many questions, and he wouldn't refrain from asking. His entire body shook with excitement. "Or one of the Sith that watched over me before Krag took me off of Gratos?"

Graxin raised an eyebrow. He reached down for the cup, and took a short sip. The taste was nothing particularly special, but it was wonderful to have something going down his throat. "And...how are you on Naboo then? I don't understand."

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

The Queen held a hand up to quiet the boy. He was getting over excited. She'd been worried of that. But it was time to admit her faults, her mistakes. It was time to tell him everything.

"I am on Naboo because Naboo is my home. It is where I was born. It is where I will die. But you were born elsewhere. I was there on that day when you came screeching into this Galaxy."

She took another slow sip of her tea.

"I remember it like it was yesterday..."

 

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My birth?

Graxin fell silent as she instructed. It was less to do with her position, and more of him wanting to know just exactly she knew him. His visions suddenly made sense. Krag had spoken of his mother too. Did she know her?

"So you were one of the slaves then? Or an Imperial...I'm not sure if my father was in charge when I was born or not. I wouldn't know."

Graxin just shrugged. He took another sip of the tea, and leaned back into his seat. He gave her a soft smile, though it was tinged with worry. Perhaps this woman was someone looking for a final strike against Krag's old regime? Some saw him as a holdout...perhaps she was one of them.

"Who are you, really?"

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

Who are you really?
The question hung in the air like a dense fog. Who? Who was she? She'd been so many things, it was hard to tell anymore.

"Right now, I am Queen," she answered after a moments hesitation "but once upon a time, I was a Jedi, like you. When I met your father, I was just a Padawan myself. Young. Inexperienced. I was still so used to getting my way. So arrogant, so spoiled. So very, very stupid."

She looked down at her shaking hands. Shaking. She had lost her perfect control.

 

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"My father?" Graxin spoke before he could think. Not Krag, she couldn't have meant Krag. Graxin knew he had human parentage, and that he hadn't been created like his former master had. He had memories from the earliest time of his childhood. It all made sense.

"....You're my mother, aren't you?" He asked lowly. His voice was calm, stoic, a sharp contrast to the excited, almost childish tone he had taken earlier. His head tilted slightly forward, and his gaze fell down to the tea. The revelation was a wrecking ball shattering his reality. He'd been told his mother resided on Gratos, just trying to survive.

...Not thriving as the Queen of some planet while he served the Graug.

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

"Yes," she answered, sounding quiet, weak, "I am your mother. "

She shuddered. She never thought she would ever say that. Not to him. She took a deep breath. Set her tea cup down. She looked up to state him in the eye. His father's eyes. She had to be brave. Had to face this.

"And i have failed you more than anybody in this entire Galaxy."

 

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The confirmation was worse than the actual fact. Graxin opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. There was so much he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to accuse her for. She was the reason he had been enslaved. She was the reason Krag had adopted him. She was the reason he had been forced to commit genocide in service of the Sith.

All things he had viewed as events the force used to shape him, now had a root. Things that seemed to have made sense were all ripped into pieces. His entire set of beliefs was uprooted, and the tattered remains formulated into this woman. This....he had no words for her.

"Why?" Was all he asked. He gave her a hard look. One he had worn when the Graug fleet had burned Telos into a ball of glass under his order, forced by his father.

 

[Feena]

Why?
The Queen held her gaze. This boy, her boy, deserved answers.

"Think about it," she answered softly, "I was sixteen. Hardly more than a child myself. What could I do? I was afraid, and selfish."

She shakily reached again for her cup, but she could no longer hold his gaze. There was too much guilt to be felt. Too much pain in those eyes.

"I never forgot you. I never forgot the boy I left behind. I thought about it every day of my life. There were times when I wondered if I could go back for you. But you know as well as I do that it would have been impossible."

 

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Graxin pushed up from his chair. He set the tea down gently, and stared as the liquid rippled outward. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he turned away. Two steps toward the exit, and he stopped.

"Is my name the one you chose for me, or is it something the Graug chose?"

He turned fully back toward the woman. His eyes drilled holes into her; betraying absolutely nothing. He settled back into his chair, elbows resting on the table, head resting on his palms. "I'd like to know. Walking around with the name that he gave me is not something I intend to do."

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

The Queen rose to her feet as well. To stop him? Maybe. Probably. He'd only just come back to her. She didn't know what she wanted form him, but this wasn't it. This was not how she wanted things to end.

But he stopped. His question made her pause and bite her lip.

"...Cyril," she answered carefully, "Cyril Alberath Greyson. After my father- your grandfather. You even... sort of look like him."

She smiled weakly, staring intently at his face as if this might be the last time she saw it.

"You take after my side of the family, a lot. I can tell. And you even have the makings of a great healer. Such potential. I'm... proud."

 

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Where does she have the right to be proud?

Graxin stared in silence for a very long moment. Cyril. That was his name. Graxin had always been a bit harsh to be a human name, anyway. Rade was simply a different way of spelling raid. His name had been designed to intimidate by the Graug priests that had raised him, and nothing less.

"It's so much softer than I imagined." He murmured with a lost look in his eyes. That expression of wonder quickly shifted into something sharper. "Proud? You birthed me. I have your genes. I raised myself, and my siblings until the Graug took them. Half siblings, I guess."

He leaned back and sat with his back straight. A thumb was hooked in the collar of his shirt, and he pulled it down to show his collarbone. Elegant black markings had been carved into his skin. They looked like they had been burned in, rather than drawn. "Hand of his Lord. Krag's marking. I can't get rid of it, or any of the other ones. That, is what raised me."

[member="Feena Mason"]

 

[Feena]

The woman had a lost look in her silvery eyes. Her boy. He was her son. She birthed him. And he was taken.
No. She gave him up. And he'd been turned into...
A monster?

She refused to believe that. Without a word, she set her teacup down and crossed the room to stand right in front of him.

"No. I suppose I can't erase what happened to you," she admitted pitifully, "I can not beg your forgiveness, because I simply do not deserve it. What I did to you... no. What I didn't do, is unforgivable."

She reached out, slowly, reluctantly as if he might strike her if she tried to touch him.

"But you have your future. The past is past. It is gone. You have your name back. You can take back the life that was stolen from you."

She was practically imitating the words of someone she once knew. Someone far older than her. The Jedi who took her in when Daddy was gone.
'The past is past. The future is now. Take back your life.'


"You are my son. I will always be proud of you, Cyril."