Private Simple Town. A Quiet Village.

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

Blaire Sal-Soren awoke to the trilling of a droid.

"No, Four-B. Not yet. I'm not ready." Blaire told the astromech rolling over. She knew she should get out of bed and begin her day but the darkness behind her eyes and the warmth of her blankets were too comforting.

She only needed five…ten more minutes. That was all. Just a bit more time to feel like herself.

Blaire had been fishing once when she was little. She spent the trip vomiting over the side of the vessel while her tummy roiled and spun around inside her. This morning she was reminded vividly of that trip. Only, it seemed her stomach had learned some new flips to try out.

Four-B trilled again asking Blaire if she'd like her plans for that day canceled. Struggling with the haze of not being fully awake and the intense desire to give in and treat the side of her bed as if it were the side of the fishing vessel from when she was a girl, Blaire recalled that today was an important one. Still maybe she could manage another fifteen minutes in bed.

"What time is it?" Blaire asked the little droid.

Four-B chirped a response. Blaire's body bolted upright blankets flying.

"You can't b—"

Blaire had no time to finish her exclamation of surprise before her whole body heaved unexpectedly as she fought back a retch. She let out a long slow steady stream of soft breath and retched again.

Blaire's bare feet pattered across the stone floor as she raced from her bed and to the adjoining refresher. To her overwhelming embarrassment Blaire was unable to make it quite in time. The inside of the bowl was stained pink with vomit. As was the side of the toilet, and half of it managed to be all over the marbled title of the refresher.

Great. Jemari fruit.

Blaire thought disdainfully as she spared a very swift glance at the mess she'd made. The fruit had truly been a wonderful snack when she'd awoken in the middle of the night feeling starved but hours later and half digested it had lost its appeal.

Blaire sat on the floor in front of the toilet doing her very best to stave off the next wave of nausea so she could get in the shower. Her effort was fruitless(get it?) The smell was too much, her stomach roiled and she white knuckled the edges of the toilet bowl as she emptied the rest of stomach's contents. Her throat was raw, the muscles in her stomach ached from the effort, and tears ran from her eyes.

For Shiraya's sake let that be the end of it.

She thought, lifting a pink vomit-covered hand to wipe her mouth. She'd stuck it right in the mess on the side of the toilet. Blaire retched again and nothing came but more aches and tears.

Three more retches and twenty more minutes, Blaire was finally able to push herself away from the toilet. It took Blaire another hour to clean and disinfect the fresher plus clean herself off in the shower and brush her teeth five times.

Once her business in the refresher was concluded Blaire opted to make her bed and choose an outfit. The ordeal with the vomit had set her back a good bit so she didn't have enough time to do too much with her make-up. She threw on her foundation and some concealer but that was all she had time to do. Any other day and she would've been stressed the kriff out. Her make-up was plain and her outfit…her outfit would normally be something that made people go 'Wow!'

Blaire always preferred that her outfits be bold. She was a dancer, she worked hard on her body, and did not miss an opportunity to show it. So when choosing an outfit she often looked for anything that would piss off her dad or her brother but today she opted for a flowy but not showy sundress.

Her dress was pink with cute white accents, it went down past her knees and hung on her in the places where her clothes normally clung.

Showered, dressed, and smelling fresh, bare-footed, Blaire walked across the stone floor from her bedroom to the kitchen.

The kitchen was Blaire's favorite room in the whole house. A house she was still getting used to. It was the latest in a number of houses, apartments, domiciles, motels, any kind of living space that Blaire has inhabited since the memorial on Naboo. Of all the places Blaire has lived in since being on the run this house was by far the best, small as it was. she didn't need much room for just her, well, her and Four-B. It was so much better than all the other places combined. In place of some laboratory or repurposed military base, Blaire lived in an actual home, she was part of a community, a small one in a settlement tucked away in the mountains of Epica. Before Epica, the kitchen was not where you'd find Blaire. Now, she was a regular Bobi Flae.

Blaire put a pot of water to heat on the stove and set aside two small ceramic cups. She checked the chrono and a sigh of relief passed over her lips. Even with the setbacks she was right on time.

Blaire caught sight of her reflection in the window and made sure her hair was looking okay. It did not. She gave up trying to quick fix it and just threw it in a simple pony.

Four-B chirped behind her.

"No silly. It isn't a date." She told the little pink and gray astromech with a giggle. "Achan is my boss!"

And he should be here any minute.

Achan Jaikavi

 

[Achan Jaikavi]

How quaint.

How…puerile.

Senator Jaikavi had grown up on Coruscant. Certainly, he had been to more organic types of planets, but Coruscant was his idea of beauty. Epica had too much…nature. There was not enough control over the environment. There was not enough of the fingerprint of sentience layered upon layers. Instead, it was a place of wildness. Even in the villages.

So it was with a mild case of disdain that he walked down the streets. The only small pleasure was in not needing to be followed by his guards. For of all people and in all places, Achan Jaikavi was safe here.

Progress had been frustratingly slow on this endeavour, and he had come to see where some fat could be trimmed from the budget. To their credit, the ones in charge of this community shaped facility had convinced him that they were on the edge of a breakthrough. The one name that was highlighted as being of distinct interested was of all things most pleasing to him.

Blaire Sal-Soren.

If she hadn’t been the daughter of his predecessor, and also predisposed to romancing ne’er-do-wells, Achan would have considered her once to have been a good match for himself. Alas, she failed in being sufficiently political in her aspirations. She was to be applauded though for staying with the Way, even if outside this commune they now went by the Unblessed.

The hovel that she dwelt in was pathetic. He felt a little sad for her, just for a moment. How far she had fallen from being the daughter of multiple great houses, and now to live here…pregnant with some random lovers…bastard offspring. She was to be pitied.

His stiff Senator’s garb had been replaced with attire more fitting with the rural setting. It hung loosely and awkwardly off his frame. Achan needed more…everything…to not feel almost entirely naked. He looked down again to insure he was in fact dressed. His eyes confirmed he was, though his body still screamed the opposite.

He knocked twice on the door, smile given a coat of genuineness.

”Blaire? It is Achan…Achan Jaikavi?”

Blaire Sal-Soren

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

"Blaire? It is Achan…Achan Jaikavi?"

Blaire hurried from the kitchen and greeted her guest at the door.

Blaire was so happy to see a friendly face that she almost wrapped her arms around Achan's neck.

She opted instead for a much more formal "Senator." With a polite nod of her head.

Her formality lasted all of a breath. She smiled back at Senator Jaikavi, slide her arm around his and pulled him into the house.

"Come in!"

Arms Linked, Blaire led Achan to the living room and directed him to a small but admittedly comfy loveseat couch.

"Thank goodness you announced yourself at the door. I might not have recognized you." She gently teased Achan about his outfit.

She'd never seen him so dressed down before. Not when she was working for him as an aide and not even the previous times that he had come to visit her during her exile. She appreciated that he hadn't forgotten about her.

Achan was the only familiar or friendly face she'd see in months. She hadn't seen her brother or sisters since the memorial and she hadn't heard from Jaa since their fight a few days after the funeral.

Achan however had been concerned enough for Blaire that he risked his position in the senate and the life he worked hard to create to come and check on her. Blaire liked Achan. He was very different from the me— people that she normally gave her time to.

Yes, he was secretive but all important men were. He was in that way, and many others, like her father.

The kettle in the kitchen whistled loudly. Blaire jumped and excused herself. It took a minute maybe two for Blaire to return carrying two small cups of Caf, made the traditional Epican way of course.

Blaire set a small cup of caf on the table in front of Achan, slipping a coaster underneath to protect the wood.

She hoped he liked it.

"Achan. This place is lovely, it really is, and I'm grateful that The Cause cares so deeply for me and…" her hand fell absentmindedly to her stomach that seemed to grow larger by the hour. "…but I can do more than stay here and be taken care of."

Blaire held up a hand to stop him from cutting her off.

"I know that the Jedi blamed my father for the bombing on Coruscant. I know that they blame him for whatever happened at the memorial. I know that they killed my father and I know that I might be in danger. I know." She sipped her caf forcing a steady hand.

"I know all of that but I went back in the field." She knew she couldn't go back to being Achan's aide, not yet, not while she was still like this. There would be too many uncomfortable questions and not enough satisfactory answers. Besides, she wouldn't let his reputation be ruined on account of her.

And she would be caught nowhere near Coruscant, Naboo, the senate, or anywhere where Baros Sal-Soren's daughter being pregnant out of wedlock would make news, even tabloid news.

Daddy deserved at least that much respect.

She reached across the table and gently laid her hand on top of his.

"Please, there has to be something I can do."

Achan Jaikavi

 

[Achan Jaikavi]

He accepted the cup and sipped the Caf as she spoke. Idealistic and intrepid as ever. The smile was genuine now. She was so pliable to the cause that it made him happy. “First…may I say…you are positively glowing, Blaire…motherhood already agrees with you…”

The Caf was acceptable. He smiled and nodded his approval. It was of course not what he was accustomed too. Home made beverages were often a step down in their subtlety. Blaire’s at least had some texture. It was a cut above the norm.

”Your children should be your greatest concern. I respect your desire to get back in the field, but what sort of society are we fighting for if we are the type to let our most precious resources be put in danger…”

”…mothers…children…you are our future, Blaire…”

In more ways than one.

Blaire did not understand. She was the non-Force sensitive child of a Jedi. Despite her not having been blessed, she still carried the genetic markers that could lend her children to being so. She was unique, and valuable. A carrier of the blessed genetic code that had been identified early in life. Blood work had been examined for years how. Not that Blaire knew this. She had long been studied. And now. Pregnant? Could she be made Force sensitive through a heightening of her gestating infants own abilities? Could it transfer to her while she carried them? So many questions. But the greatest of all, what would the effect of FL-745 be upon her and her infants.

“Is…something burning…in the kitchen?” He said, brow furrowed as he looked past her to the kitchen behind her.

With, what he hoped, would be a reasonable distraction, Achan pumped a small tasteless soluble capsule and prepared to drop it in her Caf.

Blaire Sal-Soren

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

"First…may I say…you are positively glowing, Blaire…motherhood already agrees with you…"

Blaire smiled at the compliment.

"Your children should be your greatest concern. I respect your desire to get back in the field, but what sort of society are we fighting for if we are the type to let our most precious resources be put in danger…"

"…mothers…children…you are our future, Blaire…"

Blaire removed her hand from his. An outright refusal would've been better than this…denial with a smile. A dismissal without consideration. It hurt.

"Are you accusing me of putting myself ahead of my children and their safety, Senator Jaikavi?" She questioned sharply.

The dismissal was frustrating and painful but the insinuation that Blaire was not thinking of the lives growing inside of her…that…that was insulting.

"Billions if not trillions of women across the galaxy get pregnant, do their lives get put on pause? Mandalorian women give birth on the battlefield! I am pregnant, not an invalid."

"Is…something burning…in the kitchen?" Achan asked with a furrowed brow.

"Frakk. One second, we are not done with this conversation." Blaire got up and rushed to the kitchen.

She neither saw or smelled any smoke but she'd been becoming more and more forgetful lately and was not going to leave it to chance to find out if she had in fact left the stovetop on or created some other malady in her current temporary home. Satisfied That she was not trying to burn her home down, Blaire returned to sitting across from Achan.

Blaire sipped her caf, allowing for another second to calm herself before speaking again.

"Achan, I'm not asking to pack up my rifle and go problem-solve." That's what Jaa had always called it when he was sent to go take a life on behalf of the cause 'solving a problem'

"I'm asking to be useful. I don't want to hear that what I'm doing now is useful. Maybe it is, but I want to feel useful. I need to."

Blaire went to take another sip of caf when suddenly and without reason she was struck with a pain so sharp it felt like a butcher's knife was being driven over and over into her lower abdomen. Her cup fell from her hand as she doubled-over and shattered upon impact with the stone floor.

Blaire cried out in pain. Once. Twice. She swallowed the third time and managed to turn the shout of pain into quiet, well, quieter sobs. She tried her damnedest to remain strong and calm for her sake as much as Achan's. He couldn't help her nor could she tell him how to if they were panicked.

Four-B who had been told to give Blaire and her guest their privacy wheeled into the room chittering loudly trying to figure out what was happening and how it could help.

Another stab of pain. Blaire yelled out again.

No No No No

Blaire reached a hand up her dress and between her knees unconcerned about what Achan would think of it.

She held the hand out for Achan and the droid to see.

It was covered in blood.

Achan Jaikavi

 

[Achan Jaikavi]

As suspected, the substance worked quickly. It was an unpleasant, and frankly revolting sight that caused Achan’s stomach to flip. He managed, however, to repress his gag reflex.

Concern washed of his face. “Blaire…what is happening?”

He stood, rushing to her side, and wrapped his arm around her to offer support.

”We have medical staff visiting with me…they hoped to run a clinic while I was on world…”

He used his chin to bump the comms button on his wrist mounted unit. “Senator Jaikavi to Doctor Euwai…Doctor…come in…”

He turned to Blaire again. “We will spare no effort…you will be alright…the children…we will do everything we can…”

He was interrupted by voice of a stern woman over the comms. “Senator…can I be of assistance?”

“We have a possible miscarriage…” He glanced at Blaire upon the saying of the words, sorrow and regret washed over his expression. “…in progress. Highest priority. Dispatch to my coordinates.”

“We already have a team on the way. I will prepare for your arrival.”

“Acknowledged,” Achan replied, as he pointed Blaire and himself towards the door, “just breath Blaire…try as best you can…to remain calm…”

Blaire Sal-Soren

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

Miscarriage? Said a sharp terrified voice in her mind.

No. No, that won't do at all. A much calmer mental voice responded.

"There…there…" Blaire's voice was hardly stronger than a whisper as she fought through the fear and agony to try and communicate something helpful to Achan whom she gripped at the shoulder as he led her from her home and mercifully quickly to his med-team who were quick to get Blaire off her feet and onto a gurney.

With an apology one of the med team members pricked Blaire's arm with a syringe explaining that it was a sedative for the pain.

"The physician that has been seeing to me is not far." She told Achan.

Four-B trilled and gave the coordinates of the physician's home to Achan and his medical team and they were off. She took hold of Achan's hand.

The coordinates were hardly necessary. There would be no mistaking which home was the doctor's. It was the big one. Massive really. It had once belonged to some count or Duke or something. "Home" was a bit of a misnomer for it was in truth an estate and came quite near to being a compound. Heavy wrought iron gates stood open at the foot of the drive that would take them up to the main home which the doctor, Xia Li, used for her practice and her bed.

There were two other large buildings on the grounds behind the gates. Blaire did not know what was in the small house but the "middle house" was home to a garrison. Not of local Epican soldiers…if they even had an army…but of soldiers for The Cause. This whole tiny town was The Unblessed and those soldiers kept everyone safe.

They would be met at the doctor's door by Marlo. Marlo was the doctor's assistant and she was also Chandra-fan.

Short, even for one of her species Marlo barely came above Blaire's waist and if it weren't for her large ears, she wouldn't've. The small bat-like alien wore a tiny lab coat, the parts of her not covered by clothes revealed ruddy brown fur, streams of bright blue veins cross-crossed across ears that were thin as dried parchment, her flat pig-like nose had four nostrils and each opened and closed independently of the others as she snuffled and sniffed the air.

Blaire hated the chadra-fan and her thin veiny ears. The little alien was brusque, rough, and never kind. Not once had the little rodent shared a polite word or gentle touch.

The physician's home was a building without a doubt. Some may even call it a house but it was no true home. A home was filled with memory and warmth and love. There was none of that here. Not a single momento or holopic on the wall or any of the shelves. The walls were bare and a dull grey color. Centuries old hardwood floors were torn up and replaced with cheap laminated tiling. Gorgeous ornate oil lamp fixtures went unused and the rooms were instead illuminated by ordinary fluorescents.

Marlo lead them to a lift and down they went to Xia Li's laboratory. There upon they were greeted by Xia Li. Her long snakeish neck leaned and looked over them as she silently made visual judgment of Blaire.

Blaire did not hate the doctor. The Kaminoan was different from her assistant. Her words were never harsh or rude or nasty but neither were they kind, or sweet, or friendly; they simply were. That was if she spared a word for Blaire at all. The doctor's hand was deft; not soft. And her demeanor never rose above cool and was frosty at most times. No, it was not hate she felt toward Xia Li, it was in truth, fear.

The deep unwavering darkness of the doctor's eyes were unnerving to the say the least but what got to Blaire the most was the way the doctor regarded her. On the very best days Xia Li displayed nothing more than apathy. Blaire could've been anyone or anything for all it mattered to the doc. There were however times, often during conversation surrounding or treatment for Blaire's pregnancy when she found the doctor's gaze to be…greedy, or possessive. Those were troublesome looks.

After sometime with Achan being told to wait without, Xia Li, Marlo, and those who had come from Achan's ship had gotten Blaire undressed and into a medical gown, laid into bed, and attached to her hoses and wires and all manner of whatever's that would keep them all appraised of her condition.

Once Blaire was settled as far as the medics were concerned, Achan was brought back into the room. Blaire in her delirium imagined a shared look between Xia Li and Achan as the doctor injected something through one of her Iv tubes. A look that dispossessed her of her sanctuary and filled her with foreboding. She tried to reason out why. Why had she imagined such a look? Why did it fill her with such dread? Were her babies okay?

She had no answers and quickly her mind grew too cloudy even to find more questions. The lab and its achingly dull fluorescents faded to black and Blaire went to sleep.

Achan Jaikavi

 

[Achan Jaikavi]

“What do you mean, the effects may be permanent?” Came the query of the nurse to the Kaminoan’s side.

Achan did not flinch with the question. He knew the potential outcomes, some of them. When working with this degree of cutting edge medical science you were never assured of results.

”It is within expected parameters,” said Xia Li in her normal tranquil tone.

“Permanent was within parameters?” Shot back the clearly unimpressed nurse.

”Calm yourself, my friend,” Achan finally said. His words were chosen carefully, as was his tone. His tone did not speak as if to a friend, “doctor…would you classify the trial as a success?”

“Only time will tell, Senator,” Xia Li intoned.

“And you expect the infants to be fully cognisant…sentience early in the pregnancy?” Achan said, calmly.

“Their minds may well be fully open to the Force…and advanced in their development…what this means for their life beyond the womb…I cannot tell.”

Whatever it meant, it meant that they had done it. They had converted non-Force sensitive beings into Force senstive beings while still in the womb. It helped that their mother had dormant DNA from her own Jedi mother, but it had still needed to be unlocked.

Achan looked through the window towards the sleeping woman on the bed. He smiled with satisfaction. “It is imperative that the children remain with us. I will begin the process of creating the necessary cover story for when they are delivered. For now…I will go and sit with my friend until she awakes.”

”As you wish, Senator.”

Blaire Sal-Soren

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

Blaire Ostana Sal-Soren…

Is that who I am? She wondered.

It could be. If you wanted it to be. Was the answer to her question.

Yes, that's who I am. The decision was made not with haste but with a sense of certainty.

Blaire was in the dark…

Am I?

And she was alone.

That won't do at all.

The darkness engulfing her burst alive with the light of a billion fireflies; their buzzing was a torrent. She did not find them pleasant.

Something must be done.

The fireflies stood still transforming into stars. Their heat was irrepressible, oppressive, and inviting. So very inviting. Blaire…

Yes, Blaire. That was the right choice. Blaire reassured herself.

Blaire was surrounded by the stars. She swam between them, felt their heat, smelled their temptation. Yet, she did not do these things. She could not do these things.

Why can't I?

Because she had no form to speak of.

Truly?

She was incorporeal. Something approaching a dream.

Can I be more than that?

Of course.

No longer did she swim amongst the stars. Instead she sat barefoot and cross-legged staring up at the canopy of tiny lights above her.

Form and distance did nothing to temper her longing. She was now her. The dark abade to the light. She was, however, alone yet.

I should not remain so.

The sky rippled like a pool of black ink when Blaire reached up delicately and plucked a pearl of light. She examined the star, holding it carefully betwixt her thumb and forefinger.

Curious.

She cracked open the top of the melon sized star, drinking deep from the well of light within. Thick as cream the heart of the star tasted like honey and heat. A burning so sweet by any other name would be ecstasy.

Blaire had a feeling…

No. Not that.

She had hope…

No, not that either. It's more like…

Blaire understood she was not alone. Not any more and never again.

Her heart beat once. Twice. Three times. No. Not only her heart but her children's hearts as well. They were one in the same and they were themselves as well. Connected to one another and to everything everywhere. Everything that had been, was, would be, or could be. She…they… were all this and more.

They were The Force.

Blaire's eyes opened softly. Her gaze fell upon Achan. A smile started to turn the corner of her mouth before she vomited violently over the side of the bed.

Her eyes closed again as she slipped away from the world. Machines blared alarming noises as Blaire began to shake so violently in the bed that she was surely going to go crashing to the floor.

Achan Jaikavi

 

[Achan Jaikavi]

The smile was disarming. Achan found himself relaxing with it. His senses alighted with her sudden movement though and he jumped backwards. The vomit hit the floor, splashing across his shoes, and probably further up his leg if he had taken the time to look. “Doctor!“ He called, while stepping carefully into the pool of vomit in order to push Blaire back on to the bed.

”Where is that damned, Doctor?” He grumbled before looking over his shoulder towards the door, “DOCTOR! SOMEONE!“

Of course, the medical staff were quick to respond, but Achan it all seemed to be going in slow motion. He was still holding Blaire when she began to convulse. The Senator’s eyes widdened. For the briefest of moment, regret dared nibble at his conscience, but it was quickly pushed aside.

“Step aside, Senator,” came a curt command.

Achan did, though he slipped as he moved away. He caught himself awkwardly on the empty bed on the other side of the room.

”Blaire…Blaire…can you hear me?”

”Line is secure.”

”Three mills tarafractrene.”

”Three mills tarafractrene, understood.”

”Blaire. Patient is unresponsive…”

”Tarafractrene administered. Flushing the line.”

Blaire’s convulsions seemed to ease off, and eventually she lay in a state less than still.

”Is she…”

“Comatose. Someone escort the Senator out of the room.”

Achan shrugged off the hand that grasped at his shoulder. The hand was more forceful with the second attempt. He turned and walked to the door, while glancing over his shoulder. He felt the pressure of a nurse’s hand on his back. When the door closed, he turned about and looked through the window at his friend. She lay still, barely breathing and completely lost to whatever chemical or mystical reaction was taking place.

”We all must make sacrifice for the good of the Unblessed,” he murmured. Right now, he only half-believed his own dogma.

Blaire Sal-Soren