We Survive, We Conquer

[Celestine deWinter]

Welcome to Leritor, the new Dathomir. It was the strangest, oddest idea. Celestine deWinter grew on Endelaan, far from most of the madness of old galaxy. She had lived among the Red Ladies, she had lived with her parents and just her Mother. Dathomir, however, held a special place in her heart for the time she had been there, among the rancors. Since Mother had sent her to stand in front of Streghe Arxe in Petra's sted, Dathomir has become a home in a way she hadn't imagined it. And then Petra had them all uproot onto a planet she had never been to. Foreign soil.

The rancors made it easier. Not the Witches, not the people, not the stronghold. Only the rancors. Knowing papa was alive made it easier to leave the apartment filled with his memories as well. Mother didn't know yet, she would no doubt have something to say about the secret Celestine had kept but for as long as only a single secret of hers was revealed, it was perfectly fine by Celestine. In the meantime, she would cherish her time with papa, whom she'd missed ten years of her life with. Centuries in reality but only ten for her. Perhaps there was something good in sleeping for so long, she thought to herself as one of the rancors moved ahead and nuzzled at her cheek, distracting her.

"I'm here, I promise," she responded as her brown gaze refused on the younglings as they fought against each other. They were tiny in comparison to the elders, first of the rancors to be born on Leritor. The two were left unsold as the new generation of Leritorian rancors. "They're strong," she commented after a few observations as one of them knocked the other one off his feet. They were still unbalanced, young, barely months old but already so alive and eager. "They will be strong." She told herself as the elder roared with a sense of pride, agreeing with her observation.

Above them, the stronghold was thriving, getting finished. The servants were hard at work but she didn't care for them as she cared for the rancors. They had become her family in a very short while. Such thought made her smile.

[member="Caid Centurion"]

 

[Caid Centurion]

"Mi'lord, the largest concentration of lifeforms we're detecting is in this quadrant."

The sensor display near Caid's right knee zoomed in on a specific area of the planet presently being scanned. The Nightstalker was already inside the atmosphere of Leritor. Caid only learned of the planet by complete chance. After being appointed into the Viceroyalty of the Confederacy, he was granted access to a number of records - in particular a listing of all the various systems and territories composing the Confederacy. Much to his surprise, his grandmother's name was listed as the Viceroy of Leritor.

Knowing what he did of [member="Petra Cavataio"], Caid figured she would have dragged a portion of her family along with her. At least, the portion she cared to drag. The logical question of an outside observer would be whether or not Caid hoped to be reunited with his mother there. The answer to that simple question was easily simple; no. When Caid had parted ways from the Cavataio side of his family, he did it willingly. In fact, he barely even knew his grandmother. A purposeful reality, he never had a desire to be pulled into her web of machinations.

"Very well. Set us down in the center of that quadrant."

The Nightstalker rapidly began increasing speed as it descended towards the surface. Uncloaked, the alien-looking vessel cast an awkward shadow over the rolling plains once they'd crossed over from the ocean. In a matter of minutes, Caid was able to clearly make out the large, imposing figure of a Rancor. The last thing he needed was to startle one of those and have it trash the vessel. "Set us down on that ridge line. Above where those Rancors are."

Minutes later, Caid descended the loading ramp down to the surface. Silver-green eyes gazed out over the plains at the many individuals hard at work. However, his attention seemed to focus in on a singular individual, clearly doing no work.

[member="Celestine deWinter"]

 

[Celestine deWinter]

Both Celestine and the elder rancor looked up as the ship approached, the other rancors looking towards it as well. A few of the males roared before she shrugged. "I don't know," the brunette responded, still watching, unfamiliar with the vessel. Celestine had no meetings set for today and as far as she knew, no visits were planned otherwise. Of course, Petra was the viceroy of Leritor which was something the young deWinter didn't meddle into so she didn't know much of what went on there. Celestine interests didn't lie in politics, she was far more focused on the business side of things. Streghe Arxe and the Red Lady held her interest and devotion, even if the later was quieter since her Mother didn't want her involved at the moment. Not until she gained experience. What Mother doesn't know won't hurt her, Celestine thought to herself with a tiny smile before she refocused on the arrival.

The ramp doors opened and one figure left it, approaching. Celestine watched for a while, in the distance only taking in the figure himself rather than picking up anything. There was something in what her grandmother spoke that Celestine began to recognize in her time around so many Cavataio. Petra was right about one thing, without a doubt. The Cavataio did, in fact, have a song, each of them their own and unique. This stranger had a song of his own as he approached. It wasn't as strong as it was in say her Aunt Mira or papá but it was definitely there.

Moving towards the signature, Celestine didn't realize when one of the larger rancors began to follow behind her on his back feet. They had grown to accept her in the many months she had been among them and when strangers approached, they followed without an invitation. The song wasn't what was relevant though, not in the slightest. Cavataio among Cavataio was quite common, it was another thing that would make Celestine curious, something she would only begin to notice as she made half of the way towards the stranger - his eyes. "Welcome to Leritor, cousin," Celestine spoke as she approached, the rancor pausing behind her. The green was unmistakably deWinter but the silver still clued her in further. She was, after all, a child raised on Endelaan, she could recognize the silver-green irises of the other branch.

[member="Caid Centurion"]

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid's own exposure to Nona had certainly not been anywhere near as...comprehensive as most. If one were to combine that reality with the simple fact he'd never really embraced his Dathomir heritage past a certain point, it would be easy to understand why he didn't see the galaxy in colors and songs. Caid's life had taught him only one true constant. The only thing in this entire galaxy that he could really believe in was himself.

To his relative surprise, the woman the Sith Lord had been watching steadily approached, a large rancor at her back. There was little more than a brief pause before [member="Celestine deWinter"] welcomed him with an air of familiarity. While he could discern some definite form of family connection, and she certainly had that indescribable air of a sentient that had spent a significant amount of time on Endelaan, Caid could not as readily identify the woman's connection to him as he could his niece. He suspected that had more to do with there being no actual trace of Centurion in her soul as it radiated through the Force.

"Who are you?" In the next instant, he partially answered his own question. "Cavataio." Had she possessed the same eye color as most of the deWinters, he likely would have already pieced the rest together quicker than he had. "And...deWinter?" The aforementioned lack of eye color gave him pause. After all, he'd only met deWinters with green eyes.