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Private A Lesson Not Yet Learned


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The Embassy building in theed was like most of the buildings in Naboo, built from pale stone that seemed to glow honey gold in the sun with a high domed roof supported by collonades. Yet once she stepped beyond the threshold the tone shifted, giving way to a careful blend of their two cultures. Practical furniture, simple decoration, yet all of still held some of the nabooian elegance.

Mia didn’t spare much of it a glance, pausing at the front desk only to get directions to Adelle’s office. It had been a few days since the verd’gotten and Mia had been especially hard on her, that combined with the fury Tessa had come at with her in the evening pushed Mia to check in sooner rather than later. She’d hardly been surprised to find out that Adelle was straight back to work, it fit her profile perfectly.

While she was not the only one in beskar’gam, Mia did note that more than a few heads turned as she passed them. She supposed it was unusual for the Warmaster to be here. The black and gold armour glittered as she passed a tall window as someone fell into step beside her, her visor angled toward her.

“Warmaster Monroe, I heard you were looking for Adelle?”

Mia stopped walking and turned fully to face her, buy’ce filtering her voice as she replied. “I am.”

“I’m afraid she is in a meeting, perhaps I can schedule you an appointment for tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll see her after this meeting.”

“I’m afraid she has other meetings scheduled this afternoon, that won’t be possible.”

“Then move them.”

“But, Warmaster-”

Mia’s head tilted. “That wasn’t a request.”

Quiet stretched for a moment, the dark haired woman looked for a moment like she might argue before deflating slightly.

“Very well. Let me show you to her office.”

Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel




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Mandalorian Embassy, Theed, Naboo
Tags: Mia Monroe Mia Monroe

The alert had come through while the minutes were still being read. Adelle spared it a glance, keeping an ear out for the minutes. Someone wanted to meet with her, unscheduled. Mia Monroe. Adelle clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to rub her forehead. The budgetary meeting could not be postponed, it was too important. Even for the Warmaster. She could wait or her aide could handle it. Adelle raised her mug of caf to her lips, needing its strength more than ever.

*

Adelle left the budgetary meeting feeling more exhausted than she had after the verd’goten. The meeting had taken well over an hour, as each minister and minister-counsellor needed to give their input. It also didn’t help this was the second day into her two-week reset period. She’d gotten lucky that the verd’goten on Kalevala had been scheduled just before the end of her round of sedatives. Adelle took a long sip of scalding caf. She had a bit of time before her next meeting. Some quiet in her office sounded good.

Her aide, a brunette Mandalorian, came striding up to her, tension in her face and body language. Adelle straightened instinctively, even though her aide was a good three inches taller.

“Lord Bastiel, there’s someone to see you,” she said.

“Monroe, I know.” Adelle stopped in the hallway and pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a sharp headache spike through her head. “She’s still here?”

“Waiting in your office.”

“Waiting in my—Of course she is. How long until the meeting with the press attaché?”

The pause did not fill Adelle with confidence. “It's been rescheduled. They’ve all been rescheduled at her command.”

At her command? Adelle nearly dropped her caf. Some of those meetings had taken literal months to schedule and the Embassy’s secretary staff were already working diligently to keep everything running smoothly. Monroe just waltzed into the engine room of a high performance starship and tossed a hydrospanner into it.

“This had better be urgent,” Adelle muttered quietly and quickly finished the walk back to her office. The door slid open and she stepped into her office as her aide whispered a quiet Jate’kara.

The metal-cast mythosaur skull hung on the wall as the first thing the eye saw from the entrance, positioned over the desk Adelle worked at. The wooden desk that Mia Monroe, Warmaster of the Great Heathen Army and a thrice-former Mand’alor, now sat behind. Adelle palmed the door closed and drew on her old Jedi training, sliding all the emotions that black and gold beskar’gam threatened to bring up underneath iron will.

“Warmaster,” she said evenly. She crossed to the perlote wood sidebar and pulled a decently strong whiskey from the cabinet, pouring it into her caf. “Apologies for the wait.”

Adelle turned to face Monroe, having noted that the tips of Phantom’s ears could be seen above the desk. The spukami had found a lap and attention. The traitor. But Monroe herself seemed fairly relaxed. Which only served to needle Adelle's patience further. Nothing urgent but important enough to reorder someone else's day? What could possibly warrant that level of disrespect?

“To what do I owe your presence?” She took a drink of her newly-spiked caf. This was going to be a long day.



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Mia was lost in thought, absently scratching the behind Phantom’s ears, her buy’ce resting on the desk when the door hissed open. The spukami lifted its head with a small chirp as her own eyes shifted to settle on Adelle, sharp and watchful as ever. She caught the flash of tension, the tightening of her shoulders and jaw, before training kicked in and the tension vanished.

Well, almost.

She watched her move to the sidebar, adding whiskey to her caff, the even tone in direct contrast to the fact she’d just spiked her own caff in the middle of the day to, she assumed, take the edge off. Either her previous meeting was that painful, or this one was about to be. Mia would place all of her life savings that it was the latter.

The apology passed without comment, though the use of the term ‘presence’ earned a raised eyebrow. “You are angry with me Adelle, don’t hide it. This conversation will be much easier on both of us if you speak freely instead of hiding behind a mask.”

Her voice was calm, unbothered by the fact that she had utterly upset Adelle's entire day. She knew full well that whatever meetings she'd had scheduled would have taken time to set up in the first place, but while Adelle had to juggle this and her Wolf Pack, Mia had an entire army to manage, as well as an Oversector to run. In the grand scheme of things, a few delegates having their delicate schedules disrupted was unimportant.

“We are long overdue a conversation. You left Empire space fairly quickly after your verd’goten and I am aware I was particularly harsh on you, it would be remiss of me not to check in. That, and I have a couple of other matters to discuss with you.”

She gestured to the seat on the other side of the desk. “Would you like to sit, or would you rather finish your drink and yell at me first? I assure you I can take it.”

Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel


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Tags: Mia Monroe Mia Monroe

The raised eyebrow was noted and then dismissed in nearly the same instant. Adelle took another slow sip from her mug as Mia spoke. Her words differed but her demeanor reminded Adelle far too much of her father. Distant authority. Assumption of Adelle’s emotional state. And the uncanny ability to push every single button. The more the Warmaster talked, the more it sounded like being in her father’s office.

And then she gestured to the seat on the other side of the desk.

Adelle stared stone-faced at the chair she indicated before looking back up at Monroe. Feth, her eyes were even the same sort of cold blue. It really was like giving a report to her father.

“There are many words to describe what I’m feeling, Warmaster,” she said evenly. “Anger’s not one of them.”

Her gut reaction was to cross the room to the less formal sitting area and sit in a chair facing Monroe, but the rational part of her brain played out how that particular power struggle would go. Likely called childish or immature, further dismissed out of hand, and potentially Forced to obey.

Adelle leaned against the sidebar, setting the cup down beside her and folding her arms across her chest.

“Thank you for the wellness check. My injuries will be healed in two to three weeks, depending on how hard I push myself.” She very much doubted Monroe was actually interested in her wellbeing. “You said there were other matters you wanted to discuss?”

The offer of yelling and assurance Monroe could take it went ignored. Adelle hoped Monroe’s business wouldn’t take long. Now that her schedule had been unilaterally cleared, the potential existed for Adelle to make use of the training room to try and relax. But that depended on how long Monroe intended to draw this out.



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Everything screamed defensive. The refusal to sit, the folded arms, the tone of her voice. Oh she was calm, professionally so, but Mia was not another diplomat she'd been around long enough to read people, not in just what they didn't say, but in how they held themselves. She didn't believe for a second that anger was not held in check beneath Adelle's stony expression.

Mia's gaze didn't waver, a small knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips as her head tilted. She was going to be a tough nut to crack, but Mia would crack her. "Wellness goes further than physical, Adelle." she replied, her tone still relaxed, still scratching the base of Phantom's ears with one hand, completely disregarding her nudge to press into other matters.

"So tell about those words you have to describe how you're feeling about me, because I imagine none of it is positive."

She'd seen all the messages from Liorra Liorra , she'd answered none of them. Not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't know how to start. She scooped the spukami up from her lap, setting her on the desk and offering a final scratch under her chin before rising. She moved with an unhurried pace around the desk, thumbs looping through her belt, her eyes downcast. "And while we're at it, lets talk about you facing a life threatening assault with no ability to touch the force and having to trust in those around you and then using the force to keep your osik together afterwards."

Mia stopped on the desks other side, leaning to rest against it as her eyes settled once more on Adelle.

Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel



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Wellness goes further than physical. Warmaster and a therapist, how wonderful for her. Adelle kept herself from rolling her eyes, bit back the scoff, and more importantly, remembered to keep her emotions under wraps. She picked up her caf again, taking a sip as Monroe continued to talk.

Words to describe how she felt about Monroe? Rationally, she didn’t have enough to form a strong opinion of the Warmaster. Two interactions, one professional and one where the intent was to test limits. On a good day, Adelle would have called her opinion neutral.

This wasn’t a good day.

Motion caught her attention and Adelle’s focus arrested on Monroe again. Watching. Waiting. It followed an uncomfortable pattern Adelle knew by heart. Gait slow and relaxed, hands occupied with her belt. Distance closed. Deceptively calm. That could change faster than she could blink.

Monroe stopped and leaned on the desk, now on the same side of it as Adelle.

"And while we're at it, lets talk about you facing a life threatening assault with no ability to touch the force and having to trust in those around you and then using the force to keep your osik together afterwards."

The boulder hurtled at her, eclipsing everything.

The boulder. Adelle clenched her jaw slowly, the fingers on her mug tightening. Monroe meant the fething boulder.

But it hadn’t been the only time.

Adelle staggered back, fell to a knee. Krayt loomed, a vague shadow through the haze.

Pathetic.”

A nudge at her elbow stopped the spiral of memnii. Adelle looked down at Phantom and slowly released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She took a longer drink from the caf, needing the buzz to dull the sharp edges.

Fine. If it got Monroe out of here, fine. They’d have the stupid conversation about the boulder.

“What,” she started slowly, working out what words to use that wouldn’t trigger herself, “the hells was your plan if they failed?”

Two of the foundlings couldn’t touch the Force at all, and one of those had been knocked out. Until the verd’goten, Kael had never shown that level of power in their training. And the other two were being pushed just as much as she had been, and lacked her experience.

Plans failed. Backups failed. Every contingency failed. Even accounting for the unexpected had failed her before.

There was no way Monroe could have known Adelle would survive.



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Mia saw the shift in her, the subtle tension that coiled in Adelle's muscles, suddenly wary now she was on the same side of the desk as her. Concern flickered briefly across her expression before it folded away again, back behind the serene expression she regarded Adelle with. She filed the reaction away, something to be brought up later, if they got that far.

The tension shifted, a tightening of her jaw, whitening of knuckles as her grip tightened on her mug. Phantom moved, across the desk and onto sidebar Adelle was leaning on, nudging her elbow. Mia watched it all unfold slowly, sensing the bond between the feline and Adelle as the tremor the former Jedi's emotions settled, though only just. It was similar to the aftermath of the verd'goten, not as severe, but it was there.

“What,” she started slowly, working out what words to use that wouldn’t trigger herself, “the hells was your plan if they failed?”

"I didn't need one." Mia answered without hesitation. "If another in the trial didn't stop it, someone in the crowd would have."

This wasn't just honesty, it was faith. Faith in her people, in their unwavering support of one another when it mattered. If Kael, Reina or Seris hadn't stopped the boulder, there were more in the crowd that could have. Yes, the test was for them to survive the Reclaimer and the Liberator, but none of them would have been allowed to perish.

Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel



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Tags: Mia Monroe Mia Monroe

She didn’t need one. Adelle set the mug down on the sidebar harder than she meant to and braced both hands against the top. Mia fething Monroe didn’t need a backup plan. Of course she didn’t. She was a three-time Mand’alor and to hear some people tell it, someone even the Nether couldn’t keep down.

Of course no one died with her plan.

The thought seared deep in her brain, burning at her restraint. Guilt and shame followed in its wake.

Master Astra, laid out on an examination table.

Lyra Prahnk, floating in a tank like a specimen.

Scarlet wings shimmering in a box as screams filled her ears—


Phantom's familiar weight landed on her shoulders and the furry head bumped against her temple, purring loudly.

Control. Adelle forced her fists to unclench and pushed herself away from the sidebar, trying to swallow everything down and shifting a step back from Monroe. It always made things much worse if she showed weakness. It invited an attack, verbal or physical with a lecture. Krayt had done it. Her father had done it. She had to control herself.

Good for you, she wanted to say but Adelle knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the sarcasm and bitterness out of her voice. Adelle ground her teeth, searching for an appropriate response. Kriff, she was tired.

“What else can I help you with, Warmaster?” she finally got out, the steadiness belied by her own uneven breathing.



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Adelle was fracturing. the heavy slam of the mug the weight on her palms as she braced, fighting something unseen, something Phantom could feel as she shifted to her shoulders nuzzling her again. Mai watched her pull back from whatever was haunting her, watched her fight to regain control to find the even keel she'd had the moment she'd walked in the door. She stepped back, Mia didn't follow, she let her create whatever distance she needed.

It wasn't enough. She almost found the voice, but her body was betraying her. She'd seen it before, she felt those icy fingers around her own chest, the ones that made it difficult to breathe when triggered. She shifted, straightening as she pushed off the desk and taking a step forward, intending to comfort, but the way Adelle had tensed when she'd moved from behind the desk made her stop.

She was stuck, between wanting to offer comfort and understanding and not wanting to step over invisible lines drawn in the sand.

I told you she needed your help, how is that helping her?!

Mia stepped back, her gaze falling to the floor, her arms folded across her chest as she let loose a sigh. "Adelle..." she looked up, something sad in her expression as she tried to find the right words. she wanted to press, to force the cracks wide open, not out of maliciousness, but because it would help her understand exactly what she was dealing with. "How often are you having panic attacks?"

The question was quiet as she again ignored her wish to speak about everything but herself.

Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel



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Adrenaline flashed through her veins as Mia stood up and stepped forward. Adelle braced internally. For a dressing down, a lecture or rant, or something more physical, but she knew it was coming. Finally. They could get this out of the way.

But Mia didn’t approach. She stopped. Stepped back. Looked down, away from Adelle. Arms folded, restrained. The Mand’alor’s emotions felt conflicted.

That didn’t follow the pattern. Adelle curled her fingers in Phantom’s fur, the spukami consistent and familiar, as something constricted around her chest. Unpredictability was worse than knowing what was coming.

But unless Mia was a master manipulator, her emotions rang true. And right now, sadness was the predominant one. That was enough to yank her attention out of the spiral of fear and shame. The Warmaster shouldn’t be sad. She should be angry.

"How often are you having panic attacks?"

Adelle blinked, trying to wrap her head around the question. The weight on her chest eased as she focused on what was asked. Not the question itself but the fact it had been asked in the first place. It wasn’t something she’d given a whole lot of thought. It was just a fact of life she had to work around.

“On a good week, maybe once per? Twice at the most,” Adelle said. She reached for her mug again, eyes on Monroe rather than the cup. How many times she had panic attacks on a bad day was deliberately kept quiet. No one needed to know, and that was Phantom’s whole job. The bitterness of caf and acrid bite of alcohol helped ground her as she raised the mug for another drink.

Her brain latched onto the only reason she could think of why Monroe would ask that. The guilt and shame worsened. Had Aether sent her? “I assure you, I can perform the duties and responsibilities the Mand’alor has assigned to me.”



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On a good week...

So what did a bad week look like? How much was Adelle trying to face on her own on the bad weeks? On the bad days? Her follow up statement made her blink in surprise. "I didn't think for a second that you couldn't." She frowned wondering what would prompt her to feel the need to make such a statement. "Is that why you think I'm asking? To asssess your mental capacity?" She chuckled and shook her head.

"That would be incredibly hypocritical of me."

Her expression softened, hesitant to share, but seeing no other path forward. If she was going to help Adelle, then Adelle needed to trust her and trust went both ways.

"On a bad week, they come every night. When the movement stops, when its quiet and there's nothing left to focus on."
She paused. "Its been a while since I've had a bad week, but they still happen."

Mia passed a hand over her face, suddenly looking tired before pushing off the desk, moving towards the sidebar, not to Adelle, helping herself to a glass of the same whiskey Adelle had spike her caff with, before moving back to the desk, sipping as she did.

"I won't press anymore. the last thing I want is to be responsible for a second attack in such a short space of time. But," she said as she settled back on her perch, "my door is open, if you do want to talk about it."

Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel



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Monroe’s surprise was evident in every measurable way: body language, tone, emotions. Adelle took another drink to steady herself. If that wasn’t it then why—

"That would be incredibly hypocritical of me."

Wait.

What?

It shouldn’t surprise her. The stories she’d heard were exaggerations of truths, made to fit a legend. The truth was often far darker, harsher on the person involved. Still, the idea that Mand’alor the Liberator was anything like her didn’t make sense.

The expression on Monroe’s face gentled. Adelle watched carefully but she couldn’t find anything hidden in it. But Monroe spoke about panic attacks with familiarity, about her own bad weeks when there was nothing left to distract. It felt uncomfortably similar.

Adelle shifted back as Mia came closer, moving to the sidebar to pour herself a glass of whiskey before stepping back to the desk again.

"I won't press anymore. the last thing I want is to be responsible for a second attack in such a short space of time. But," she said as she settled back on her perch, "my door is open, if you do want to talk about it."

Vidalu Na'an said:
"But you should tell someone. Please."

Fething Na’an.

Adelle set the mug back on the sidebar and rubbed her hands down her face before running them back through her hair. Phantom pressed her nose to the side of her head, a snuffling purr in her ear, before hopping down to the sidebar again.

“I’m on prescription sedatives to sleep,” she said. “But every sixty days, I have to wait two weeks before I can get a refill. It’s supposed to keep me from building up a tolerance. I can… manage the first couple days usually. It just… gets harder the longer I go.”

Her fingers rotated the mug slowly as she stared at it, her awareness of Monroe’s position still sharp.

“This is day three. I was trying to get everything done while I still could.”



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Mia nodded in understanding.

"And I just royally fethed up your day."

Two weeks without sedatives after almost two standard months... she let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'd tell you I wouldn't have done it if I'd known but truth be told I figured you would try and avoid meeting with me if I tried to book something. And then you'd find an excuse to delay it. And while I'm patient ninety precent of the time..." she trailed off smiling slightly.

She swilled the auburn liquid in the glass before taking another sip. "I'm going to go out on a limb here, and assume that you don't have a support network in place." Adelle fought like she was on her own, it was a safe leap to assume that she used that same practice throughout her life. "Aside from Phantom, of course." she added with an affectionate smile towards the feline now perched back on the sidebar.

Sapphire eyes shifted back to her, a little more serious. "Is anything in your schedule over the next two weeks going to cause a diplomatic incident if its delayed?"

Adelle Bastiel Adelle Bastiel
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Tags: Mia Monroe Mia Monroe

Adelle actually grimaced when Monroe mentioned that making an appointment, and thus telling her what the meeting was about, would have been met with avoidance. She couldn’t deny that she would’ve tried to avoid the meeting in the first place. Delaying it was a fifty-fifty chance, depending on how good she felt that day. She rubbed Phantom’s chin, taking another drink from her caf. It was almost empty. She’d need another cup.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, and assume that you don't have a support network in place." Adelle fought like she was on her own, it was a safe leap to assume that she used that same practice throughout her life. "Aside from Phantom, of course." she added with an affectionate smile towards the feline now perched back on the sidebar.

A support network. Adelle took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I had people,” she said. “Was working on talking about things with them. The planeshift cut that short.”

The comment about diplomatic incidents earned a small smile.

“No, fortunately. I was already in the important meeting when you showed up.” Adelle tapped the side of the mug. “Although the Eshan delegation won’t be happy but they usually aren’t happy to see me to begin with. Varanin’s polite enough though.”

As if on cue, a young woman’s voice started seeping through the doors though the words were unintelligible. Adelle glanced back, raising her eyebrows, then left it alone. The Republic-born secretary could handle it. And Adelle would deal with the repercussions later.

“Was—” Adelle began then stopped, trying to find a better way to word her question. Her tired brain refused to cooperate. “Was that all you wanted to know, wellness check-wise?”



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