Private A new era

[Jaina Kadnessi]

The sky over Kuat shimmered with faint streaks of engine trails, the echoes of constant ship traffic weaving between the great orbital rings of the Kuat Drive Yards. Up there, starship skeletons drifted in artificial cradles, bathed in the dull glow of welding torches and arc lights. Smoke plumes rose faintly from the planet’s industrial centers below, a haze that never quite reached the noble estates nestled far from the city sprawl.

Out here, away from Kuat City’s choking skylines, the air was clean. The Kadnessi estate sat atop the gentle rise of forested highlands, its sprawling grounds overlooking cultivated farmland and dense woodland that stretched to the horizon. Here, the scars of industry were kept at bay by decree, the trees and rivers preserved in stark contrast to the metallic labyrinths of Kuat's heart. This was the divide the nobility had always maintained opulence and order above, toil and smoke below.

Jaina Kadnessi stood upon a marble balcony that jutted from one of the estate's highest towers, framed by soaring columns etched with the symbols of her house's long history. From this vantage, she looked down upon the eastern landing platform nestled in a clearing far below, where the smooth lines of the pad’s surface blended with the surrounding green. It was a space carved into nature, but still touched by civilization pristine, orderly, symbolic of House Kadnessi’s place in the galaxy.

The estate steward waited at the platform’s edge, hands clasped behind his back, posture formal. His role was ceremonial a representative of the house's structure and tradition ready to receive the arriving guest.

Jaina remained above, a silent observer as the shuttle made its final descent, its approach cleared only after passing Kuat’s formidable security net. It had been verified across multiple checkpoints: orbital defense platforms, customs arrays, and the ever-watchful eyes of the militarized fleet that kept Kuat safe from spies and saboteurs. Even now, Kuat could not afford to be lax. Not when the shipyards remained the beating heart of galactic power projection.

The shuttle’s sleek form gleamed faintly against the darkening sky, its descent methodical, exacting. Jaina’s gaze tracked it as it aligned with the landing pad, her hands resting lightly on the marble balustrade before her. She wore the robes of her station soft grays and muted blues layered in flowing cuts that blended nobility with understated practicality. Her long blonde hair moved gently in the evening breeze, catching glimmers of the last light as the shuttle settled onto the pad with a muted hiss of steam.

The arrival had been long anticipated. Desbre Gensan, Jedi Knight and former member of the Silver Jedi Order, would be taking up residence here living, teaching. Training Jaina.

Months of careful vetting had brought them to this moment. Even so, eyes watched. Not just the steward below, but others members of the Kadnessi Council, nobles across the other houses. A Jedi Knight walking the halls of a noble estate wasn’t unheard of, but a Force-sensitive heir? That stirred debate.

For generations, House Kadnessi had aligned with the Republic, with Jedi, with ideals of cooperation. But ally and participant were two different roles. The Force, many whispered, was dangerous when entwined with political power. It brought entanglements, risks, legacies that few aristocrats welcomed into their bloodlines.

Jaina knew this. She had heard the hushed conversations behind polished doors. The weight of their doubts pressed on her shoulders, as steady as the mountains surrounding her home. She could feel it in the way the steward stood formal, yes, but wary. In the way messages from the Council grew more pointed in their inquiries.

But she was Kadnessi, and she was not here to yield.

Excitement stirred beneath the surface, threading with that familiar coil of uncertainty. She wanted this training, growth, the chance to shape her own future beyond the orbit of expectation. Yet, even as she prepared to step forward, she knew that every lesson would be observed. Not just by her teacher. By Kuat.

As the shuttle's landing ramp began its descent, Jaina released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She turned, leaving the view behind for now. There would be time to greet her new mentor time to prove that the Force could not only walk alongside her house’s legacy but elevate it. It was coming rapidly, Desbre had one final check to get through that of the Steward guiding her to Jaina.

 

[Desbre Gensan]

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Equipment: Simple Jedi Robes, Silver Sigil, inherited lightsaber, personal lightsaber, light-filtering lenses, Hush-style comlink, aquata breather, liquid-cable launcher, stim pills, nutrient/food pack, training equipment.​

Tag: Jaina Kadnessi​

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Des did her best to ignore the flight path of the shuttle. It was one thing to pilot yourself, and another to leave her fate in the hands of someone else. But the pilot exhibited skill enough to make the ride smooth as glass and sat down with the tiniest of jostles. Money bought everything, including skill.​

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She still didn't know what she was doing here. Oh, not the mechanics of it. That was easy. But the purpose. And more specifically, why her. The place reminded her of so much of home. The bad parts. Here she was stuck in a new form of service. It would have been borderline slavery, were it not for the matter of choice. But even then, what choice did she really have?​

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At least with this, she could do something with. But first, the task at hand: seeing what she was working with.​

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Closing her eyes, she let the Force wash over her. Her mind drifted across the vastness of space as she pictured Milya's face, her wry smile, The smoldering look she had when she was angry that etched her face in such sharp elegant lines. Her heart ached for a moment, to be so far away. ~Miss you, my veshari.~ The thought, sent on the winds of the Force, no doubt would reach her. She could have sent a message over the rebuilt Holonet, but for now she was in an otherwise communications blackout. Secrecy of the rich and paranoid. Non-disclosure this. Legal penalties that.​

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"Master Jedi." The voice snapped her out of her reverie, eyes opening to regard the shuttle pilot in front of her. Wordlessly she stood, smoothing down the white and blue uniform. "If you'll follow me..." He gestured toward the exit. Des eyed him but followed dutifully.​

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Once outside, she winced in the bright light, then pulled down the light filtering lenses. Kuat was bright enough to hurt a little, but the edifice to opulence, sparkling and bright, bounced much of it into her face. Lenses on, she continued, missing the weight of her sabers. They were "secured" for now until she could be "trusted." It was likely a formality, considering the Kuati knew plenty about the history of the Jedi. And if they knew anything, they knew she didn't need her sabers to be a force of nature.​

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The polished marble under her feet felt nothing like the rough permacrete of Arkania's mining facilities. Too clean. Too perfect. Her five-fingered hands – a marker of her offshoot status as clear as the silver-gray eyes behind her protective lenses – flexed unconsciously. Even after years away from the mines, her body remembered the weight of diamond crates, the endless hours of sorting. The muscles beneath her Jedi garments, deceptively strong for her frame, tensed as if preparing to haul cargo instead of teaching some privileged noble.​

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Behind her, a pair of attendants began offloading the rest of her belongings and the gear she'd brought. While she could teach with almost nothing, the more tools she had available, the better. But then again, what was she really going to teach this politician? That was the question, she supposed.​

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Not that she could answer it, not right away. She highly doubted they would be anything approaching a Knight. The Force wasn't a toy and its power could easily be misused.​

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As the pilot escorted her, she glided toward the Steward, moving like water without conscious thought. Her gaze fell on nothing, yet she seemed to take in all around her. She caught the steward's subtle evaluation – that quick flick of eyes over her features, the almost imperceptible straightening of posture when noticing her offshoot characteristics. She'd seen that look before. On Arkania it preceded verbal abuse; here it probably masked itself as "proper etiquette."​

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Stopping in front of the steward, she bowed and chose to let him speak first. She wasn't a protocol droid and didn't really know the customs here. That was for fancy people in shiny suits. Leaving the social power in the hands of the host was always a 50/50 chance, but usually the correct one. Especially with money involved. Change a glow panel in a place like this and you might wind up dodging blaster bolts on Zeltros in a week. Better to let them do the talking for now.​

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All she wanted was to finish this assignment and leave. Get back to real work, not playing nursemaid to some rich kid with delusions of Force grandeur. The sooner she could evaluate this Kadnessi heir, the sooner she could be gone from this monument to inequality. Her aptitude could be put to use fixing ships, or serving the public good, not egos.​

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[Jaina Kadnessi]

The steward’s posture, perfectly measured and deliberate, did not waver under Desbre Gensan’s gaze. If he noticed the subtle tension in her jaw or the flicker of weariness beneath her lenses, he gave no outward sign. Trained, like all in House Kadnessi’s service, to maintain composure even beneath scrutiny.

He inclined his head, offering the faintest smile polite but distant. “Knight Gensan,” he greeted smoothly, offering no grand titles, only the acknowledgment owed to one in her station. “If you would follow me.”

With that, he turned on his heel, his stride neither hurried nor taking his time, guiding her across the marble landing platform. No attendants trailed behind, no curious onlookers lingered this was not a spectacle for the house to parade. Whatever suspicions Desbre had about being thrust into aristocratic theater, they seemed at least for now unfounded.

The steward led her not toward the grand halls of the estate but along a side corridor, a modest path shaded by climbing vines and framed with polished stone and simple elegance. At the end of the passage stood a plain durasteel door adorned only with the Kadnessi crest.

The steward paused, bowing slightly. “She waits for you within. You will not be disturbed.”

He stepped aside, allowing Desbre to enter alone.

---

Inside, the receiving room was a quiet, sunlit space. No tapestries, no gold leaf, no ostentation. Only smooth stone floors, a low table with two simple chairs, and a large window that offered a sweeping view of the distant green lands and silver shipyards far beyond.

Standing near the window was Jaina Kadnessi. She turned as the door shut behind Desbre, her movement smooth and deliberate. Dressed in muted blue and gray robes that reflected her station without flaunting it, she looked every bit the heir of a noble house yet something in her bearing suggested something different. Something... approachable.

Her long blonde hair, catching the afternoon light, framed a young but composed face. When she turned fully to face Desbre, her eyes carried no haughtiness, only thoughtful curiosity and a measure of welcome.

Jaina offered a respectful bow, deeper than custom might require. It was a conscious gesture, a deliberate show of respect.

"Welcome to Kuat, Knight Gensan," she said warmly. "And welcome to House Kadnessi. It’s an honor to have you here."

There was sincerity in the words, not the hollow pleasantries Desbre might have expected. Jaina straightened, offering a small smile one tempered by the awareness of the situation, but genuine nonetheless.

"I hope your journey down was smooth. I know Kuat’s security procedures can be... thorough," she added with a small, knowing lift of her brow.

She gestured toward the chairs at the low table. "Please, come sit. You must be tired after the trip. I promise I will keep this brief I am sure you would like to rest"

Jaina waited until Desbre approached before moving to sit herself. Only once they were both settled did she allow a hint of the more serious conversation to surface, her hands resting lightly on her knees.

"I asked for this private meeting because I thought it only right that we speak plainly. Just you and me. Away from the house. Away from expectations."

Her tone shifted slightly, still respectful, but more earnest now.

"I appreciate you making the effort to come here," she began, her tone warm but steady. "I'm sure you've heard no shortage of details from my House expectations, plans, assurances."

She shook her head faintly, a wry understanding flickering across her features.

"But let me speak plainly."

Her gaze met Desbre's not challenging, but open and honest.

"I don't want to be another obligation you're forced to endure. And I don't want you to feel bound by promises made on my behalf. Whatever demands or guarantees you were given... you are free to ignore them."

She drew a slow, measured breath, her voice firm but gentle.

"If you find that I'm not worthy of your time, or your teaching... I would rather you walk away now than waste yourself on something you don't believe in." A small, genuine smile touched her lips tempered with both resolve and humility.

"I want to earn this. And I want it to matter. My house is already divided on whether I should even be trained. But this..." she paused, meaning heavy behind the word, "this is something I refuse to compromise on."

Jaina shifted slightly forward, her tone softening just a fraction.

"So I would like us to set the terms here. Just between the two of us. Free of obligation. Free of expectation."