Private The Student becomes the Master

[Mig Gred]

This was going to be an interesting conversation. Mig had hinted to his niece, Adara Raxis , that he needed to talk to her about something after Mandalore. He hadn't been specific though. Now, he found himself landing on Vena, about to ask Adara about something he wasn't too skilled with. This was almost ironic. One day he's training Adara on how to control her emotions without losing herself, and now he was the one coming with questions. He didn't know if Yasha know what happened, but he knew Adara did. That was why he was here now. In part he hoped he'd be talked out of this idea, but another part.... He didn't know. As his ship landed, he couldn't help but notice a certain clanmate struggling with.... A wall...?

Mig wasn't about to ask how or why. The kid was like Aries sometime. Either way, he wasn't exactly sure how to proceed, so he simply walked towards the door, figuring someone would correct him if he did something wrong.

 

[Adara Raxis]

"Gawds, Stabby's gonna git it this time! Hold on, Fred. I got ya." A soft mumble from an otherwise unaffected teenager, who trotted lazily toward the Clansman against the wall.

The Palace of Vena was awash with the pulse of this agricultural, maternal world. Honour guards of males and females alike lined the stairs up to the formal Venan Court, a shift in gender dynamics implemented back in Yasha Cadera 's day as Arch-Duchess. Now, Yasha was gone, nothing left of the Infernal's influence but a few male guards, the sigils of House Fitz-Kierke, and the daughter who now sat upon that same throne.

"Alor Gred, if you please. Arch-Duchess Adara awaits you with joy." A hood kept the woman's face veiled, the purple chersilk of her Handmaiden robes concealed any distinct proportion as she led Mig toward the Court. Nothing but the faint presence of the person in the Force, a follower of the Light in whispers of ever expanding winds.

Upon Adara's head was a diadem of sapphires, corusca gems and gold. The crown itself swept up from her forehead to catch the light of the stained glass windows flanking the throne. Scattered colour bathed across the Hall, sound dampened by clever use of tapestries, a long royal blue carpet from entrance to throne in one eighty metre piece. Dressed in blue and purple chersilk, the high neck of Adara's Courtly attire bespoke of her youth, and a modesty the child clung to when talk of 'future generations' bore down on her noble head. Before Mig Gred 's ship finished its' path from outer atmosphere to landing pad, Adara was aware of him.

"Ba'vodu! How wonderful of you to come!" The man who taught her control. Who weathered the wars and tumult of the spheres better than any she knew with a grace and patience that astounded the impetuous youth. Adara did not rush to meet him, instead her fingers clenched at the arms of her throne, as Courtiers mumbled and busied with conversations behind their hats and fans. "I hope you don't mind it will take Chef a bit more time to craft a meal for us... you look troubled. Is something wrong? Is it Aunt Tamar? The children?"

Has her father done... something... Adara bit back what she truly meant to ask, standing from the throne with the aid of another Handmaiden to ensure the train of her dress did not get caught under foot. The girl seemed... settled since her days learning Control from Mig. As if the weight of both command and the millstone of her powers locked around her. If Yasha were present, she would have grieved for her daughter's youth, the woe of House Fitz-Kierke to sacrifice daughters to the good of many beyond their personal desires.

 

[Mig Gred]

"Thanks. I really need to find these things." Mig just chuckled. He could see what was going on, but decided to stay quiet. He was just happy to see things seemed to be good here. It was still strange to hear Adara called an Arch-Duchess though. She was still so young. What was it about Yasha's kin and getting thrown into stuff like this? Either way he would smiling seeing Adara there, able to sense that she was calmer. But she was was also quick to pick up on his own worry. Dang it! Maybe he needed a lesson or two from a Jedi about guarding his mind.

"It's good to see you Adar'ika. I hope you aren't forgetting you can still have some fun before you get a little older though. And no. Tamar and the kids are fine. Actually got a chance to meet a friend of mine. That was an interesting visit." He chuckled a little before sighing, not sure how to put what he was about to say. "It's something else. Something that's been on my mind since Mandalore."

Adara Raxis

 

[Adara Raxis]

"My friends refuse to allow me to become an adult too soon, Ba'vodu. They all help ever much. Thank you for allowing Fred Gred to be so borrowed." Adara couldn't help but chuckle a little at the antics of her friends. The Troublesomes were the best part of her, a group which kept her acting her age, whenever not on the dusty throne.

Tamar. Holding in a breath, Adara let it out carefully. The slave-nanny's living state was no doubt a temporary nuisance to those who knew Adara from the Dark, yet sentimental as she was, Adara couldn't bear the thought of her beloved nanny being destroyed. Her safety then, it meant a great deal.

"I'm sure. Tamar is ever innocent to the cultures of these many worlds. You should bring the family to visit Vena, I've enough room." She leaned back on her throne, the mention of Mandalore causing a flip of her heart in her chest.

"Since Baba failed to free it, you mean. Using clone lives like living shields, wasn't it? Didn't he? How many of our refugees did we lose in that war? I hope they all had children to carry on their Clans. The same battle my baby brother was taken from us, intercepted by the Dark Lord before he could be delivered to me? Yes, Ba'vodu. Do tell me of the Battle of Moridinae." The accursed name. The Sith name for the planet Adara wasn't allowed to be raised upon for the Law.

Her mother's law, which held no love for Yasha's eldest daughter.

Mig Gred

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig smiled at his niece, happy that even with responsibility she wasn't growing up too quick. "No problem Adara. Seems like he's had an... interesting time. I'll mention visiting to Tamar too. I'm sure she'd love to come, and the kids assuming Leddie isn't too much trouble." He chuckled, thinking about how sneaky the little Zabrak could be. He'd already almost taken her on a risky mission because she stowed away. Then he mentioned Mandalore.

He could feel the young Cadara's emotions as she spoke about the attack. About her father. The cost for a battle that was definitely a defeat. Mig closed his eyes and nodded at Adara's words. While it was harsh, the teens outside looking in view was definitely on point. It was part of why Mig came to Adara with this.

"Yeah. There was... something else. It's just...." It was hard for Mig to say, but he had to admit it. Everything that happened. "I'm not sure your Baba is exactly fit to be Mand'alor. He of all vod managed to get piece with the Jedi, I'll give him that much, but.... Mandalore shouldn't have happened. Things that were done there shouldn't have happened. I've honestly been thinking.... No one's challenged him yet.... It... might be time to."

Adara Raxis