Chapter Text
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far, far away…
Star Wars: The Lost Youngling of The Tsis
The Sun River Galaxy is in conflict with its third galactic war in fifty years.
Emperor Vowrawn declared Darth Imperius a traitor and menace. Her schemed rebellion of Slaves’, Sith Purebloods’ and Neutral and light Sith’s plan to eliminate the emperor failed. Allegations surface about the former dark council member of destroying indispensable slave operations going back years.
The hunt for Darth Imperius begins. Emperor Vowrwan’s spies discovered Darth Imperius is a member of the Revan and Tsis cults, a devotee of Kel’eth Ur and Ancient Tsis illegal teachings. Imperius is accused of trafficking Sith Purebloods out of the Empire, and supplying intelligence to the traitor Kyanto Graush, the former Wrath of the Empire.
The inquisitor and her child are on the run. Their allies in the Empire are running low. Darth Imperius must make one last stand, but not before getting her daughter to safety.
She will save her child, even if it means she might never see her again.
Episode 1
Sanctuary
Hajara Kallig’s veins are full of caf and paranoia. She projects a mental shield on the surrounding lifeforms. The Sith inquisitor’s presence slips their attention like the rain down the flashing neon Aurebesh signs as she sneaks through the republic Nar Shaddaa spaceport. Her failure weighs down her shoulders like a bitter back breaking labor. Everything she worked so hard for has gone up in flames. She cautiously looks around the corner and sees the XS light freighter up ahead in a docking pad. Relief floods through her.
Syoma stirs on her back, fighting against the Force sleep weaved on her. Hajara shifts Syoma into her arms and presses a kiss on her forehead. Hajara walks towards the ramp. Approaching the smuggler undetected is more challenging than she anticipated. But then again, Nico Okarr hasn’t lived this long without gaining hard-earned survival skills.
Okarr wastes no time getting his twin blasters out of his hip holsters and training them on her the moment she steps out of the shadows. His shoulders stay tense, and he scowls at her as he lowers his weapons and holsters one. His finger never leaves the trigger of the other. The human tips his wide-brimmed hat at her in greeting.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t, my generous employer, Darth Imperius. Your arrival is one day overdue. You karking Sith and your dramatics. You’re lucky I didn’t leave for my other job. Almost makes me tempted to turn you in for your own bounty.” He rolls his eyes before getting straight to business. “So, where’s this artifact you want me to smuggle?”
She shifts her black cloak to reveal the sleeping Syoma. The unflappable Nico Okarr’s eyes become wide.
“I think your definition, and my definition of what constitutes an artifact differ. That’s a youngling, not some spooky Sith artifact,” He gripes at her.
“Your intellect astounds, Okarr. Yes, this is a child. More importantly, she is my daughter, and she is worth far more to me than any old artifact. Why do you think I paid you so much?” Hajara replies in a scathing tone. “Too many have sacrificed and died in an effort to get us to safety.”
Flashes burned into the backs of her eyes, image she can’t forget. She can see Talos, imprison on Dromund Kaas. Khem Val, dead on Corbos after fighting off a squad of Sith Assassins. Andronikos, arrested on the Imperial Space station as she escaped onto a cargo ship.
Okarr sighs, then he shrugs his shoulders.
“Fine, okay, I can work with this. But younglings cost extra. I’m not a nanny droid.” He takes her reveal in stride and warns. “I don’t want to wrangle some wild child.”
“My precious Syoma is well-behaved. She’s not some weak, silly human child. You just need to deliver her to Coruscant. An ally, Vette will meet you on the lower levels at Bontu’s diner. Confirm it’s her using the security codes I gave you, and your job will be done. Vette will take Syoma the rest of the way.” She reminds him. “Extra will be provided.”
Vette will complete the quest. The Twi’lek woman is eager to help and Kyanto trusts her. She is as close as a sister to him. Syoma will be safe with her. Hajara is making the right decision for her daughter’s future. The thought rings true in the force.
Okarr puts his other blaster away. The man relaxes. Hajara didn’t work with the smuggler in the Eternal alliance, Kyanto was the one to recruit him.
She regrets not leaving with Kyanto and their friends Asaro and Beshla after Lokath. But without her influence and presence in the Empire, she wouldn’t have been able to dismantle slavery operations and help Tsis descendants and the freed flee the life under the brutal thumb of the insane Jedi exiles. Hajara had made a change inside the Empire for all the good it did. The woman clenches her fists to stay focused on the present because she can do nothing about the past.
“Don’t worry, I always complete the job,” Okarr promises in a confident tone.
Syoma wakes, her eyelashes flutter, and she opens her mouth wide, which shows off her sharp teeth and yawns. Hajara sets her daughter on her feet and waves her hand. The Force sleep she cast on her daughter fades.
Okarr, at least, knows when to make himself scarce.
“I’ll give you two a moment alone, while I prep my ship for take-off.”
Syoma blinks open her bright golden yellow eyes and yawns again. Her tiny child, so young and small, was only six standard years old. Tears burn at her own golden, orange eyes as Hajara sweeps her daughter up into a tight, squeezing hug. A small hand reaches up to her cheek. Her daughter smiles at her.
“We made it to Nar Shaddaa,” Syoma cheers, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck and Hajara can feel the relief and victory her daughter feels through their bond.
The child can sense her mother’s twisting storm of emotions inside and then her happiness and smile melt away. Syoma’s emotions feed off her mother’s negative ones and take on an anxious feeling. The tiny girl casts a look around their surroundings and scans around the ship in the Force, searching for danger.
Guilt fills Hajara. Her selfishness robbed her daughter of a childhood. Four months on the run, in constant danger, has sharpened her daughter. Fighting every moment for survival, always on guard against threats.
May Kyanto forgive her for keeping their child a secret. She thought that all of the training she put her daughter through would be the difference between life and death. That raising her amongst the republic would have made her vulnerable. But looking at her daughter who was only six standard years, with dark maroon circles under her eyes, and a gaunt starved look about her face, would that situation really have been so bad?
“What’s wrong Mama? Look around we’re at the spaceport. We’re halfway to the Republic,” Syoma questions.
“My enemies are circling. I cannot protect you and destroy them at the same time.” Hajara must keep her voice steady. “It's time for you to finish the journey, without me.”
Anxiety, fear and apprehension ooze from her child and it leaves a sour taste in the air.
“I can help you just like I did at home.” Syoma is pleading now, tears gathering in her eyes. “I killed that Sith apprentice who came to kill you, that Bounty Hunter, and I’ve killed two assassins.”
Deep down Hajara knew Syoma was too kind, noble. Just like her father. Both are unsuited to the twisted games the corrupted Sith like to play. She sees her daughter hanging in the air struggling to breath, clawing at her throat. Only seconds away from the apprentice snapping her neck. Her young brave girl had tackled the attacker with no hesitation or regard for her own life.
“That blasted apprentice could have killed you!” Hajara snaps before she can think better of it.
The mother regrets it in an instant as her daughter flinches away from her and mother’s fiery rage. Hajara inhales a deep cleansing breath and takes her daughter’s hand with tenderness and holds it in hers. With her other hand she tips Syoma’s head up to look up at her. Darth Imperius loves her child more than anything. She must let her go. Her child must survive.
“Remember your teachings. Never forget who you are. You are Syoma Kallig, daughter of Hajara Kallig. A Darth Nox descendant, and ancient Tsis blood runs through your veins. One of Bogan’s chosen.” Hajara urges with the utmost sincerity she owns and grips Syoma’s shoulders.
Hajara’s vision clouds and she can see her daughter in Jedi robes, laughing, with a group of younglings in a beautiful room of a thousand fountains. Then the vision darkens. A grand archive that would please even Talos as her child studies ancient artifacts. She can see Syoma fighting with brilliant yellow gold sabers against an army of droids and a squad of uniform men in white Plastoid armor. She foresees the strong woman Syoma will become. Her vision clears.
Never, not since she was on Voss had she had such a clear vision. Syoma lifts her eyebrow stalks high. Her curiosity pokes at Hajara through their bond. The mother pulls her child into a tight hug and lets her chest rumble to show how much she loves her. Her daughter hugs her back just as tightly.
“But Mama, I have a bad feeling about this,” Syoma whispers. “If you leave, I will never see you again.”
Those words make Hajara’s heart constrict.
“It’s not safe. I could not bear it. If one of my enemies gets a hold of you. You cannot imagine the things they would do to you,” Hajara warns and lets her Force persuasion leak into her voice. Syoma sniffles and wipes at her own tears. She puts on a brave face and swallows hard. Hajara hugs her tight again in a firm embrace. She fixes the stray strand of black hair behind her daughter’s pointed ear. Mother and Daughter must both be strong.
Hajara reaches into her cloak for the red glowing pyramid. Her holocron. She slides the pack off her shoulders, full of republic credits, spare changes of clothes, and a datapad. Syoma’s Sith long vibrodaggers secured on her thighs, and the small pistol blaster that Androikos gave her is at her hips.
“I packed your data pad with your lessons and information on the Jedi and the Republic. You have my holocron to keep up with your force lessons until you reach the Jedi on Tython.” Hajara struggles to keep her own tears at bay.
“Jedi? I don’t want to go!” Syoma hugs her small arms around her mother’s neck tighter.
“Do you remember all those stories I told you? About my allies and I destroying Emperor Valkorion? My allies in my fight against the Jedi exiles and slavery?” Hajara asks.
Syoma nods and blinks away tears.
“Well, you can meet them now. The Barsen’thor, the Hero of Tython, and the former Empire’s Wrath, your father.” Hajara knows that tidbit will gain Syoma’s interest.
Syoma’s eyes widened.
“My father is the Kyanto Graush, the Empire’s wrath?!” her child squeaks, and then peppers her mother with questions. “You’re sending me to the Jedi?! Do you think the Barsen’thor, and the Hero of Tython will look like they do on the Holonet? Will I get to meet Master historian Gnost Dural?!”
Hajara chuckles.
“You’ve spent too much time with Talos. If you are more excited to meet the historian than your own long-lost father.”
Syoma’s cheeks darken.
“Do you think he will like me? What if the Jedi don’t accept me because of my training in the dark?” her daughter whispers and hunches her shoulders.
“Kyanto will love you. Just as much as I do.” Hajara promises. “The Jedi will not turn you away, not if Kyanto, Asaro, Beshla, and Grand Master Shan have any say.”
“But I thought the Jedi disapprove of families.” Syoma frowns and her anxiety creeps out. “They won’t approve of me being his daughter.”
“Yes, they object to it, but it’s not forbidden.” The mother whispers and leans closer. “I just had a vision. It was you as a Jedi. You will be great, my daughter. Trust in the Force and trust in yourself. I love you so much.”
Syoma sobs.
“I don’t want to say goodbye, Mama. Come with me,” Syoma begs.
“It’s not goodbye, my love will always be with you. You are a survivor who will never give up or surrender. Your strength carries our ancestors’ strength. You are lightning, you are thunder, you are the storm.” Hajara pushes her pride, her love and her hope out past her mental shields so it washes over her daughter like a wave. “You are powerful, you are free, and you must never bow to anyone. I am so proud of you. I love you more than anything, my little star.”
Syoma sniffles and pushes her own love, hope, and determination back in Force. They indulge in the embrace, and Hajara does her best to commit this moment to her memory to immortalize it. Hajara pulls away.
“May you honor Bogan with our enemy’s blood.” Syoma, her golden eyes burning as she wipes away tears, said goodbye, adding, “Make them pay for our suffering. Demonstrate your true power and shatter your chains. I love you, Mama. I will honor you always in my heart.”
Hajara gives her a watery smile.
“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time to go.” Okarr is back and leaning against the entrance of his ship up on his ramp as he interrupts.
“Be strong, my sweet star.” Hajara kisses Syoma’s forehead before walking down the ramp and her force signature disappears as she wraps herself up in a cloak of Force stealth.