"I am the Count of Serenno, and a Jedi Master." Her father replied, his voice starting to rise with frustration. "I am not a Jedi Lord, but a Jedi who has a separate, unrelated title that makes me a lord."
If only to stir the pot, Tan'ya asked, "So can I be a Jedi Lord?"
...
Her father shot her an annoyed look, and Yoda laughed out loud at that. Between the two old men reduced to petty bickering, and the old goblin man's high pitched chuckle, the tension between the two seemed to have dispersed for now.
"So I'm to be attacked from all angles." Dooku muttered, ruffling his daughter's hair. "Is this what your loyalty to your father is worth?"
Unable to help the smile that split her lips, "Father, can we go to the study?"
"What's in the study?"
"Nothing, it's just quiet." Tan'ya replied. "Please, just the three of us? The gifts can wait, I don't want to have to open them in front of a crowd."
Her father looked at her for a moment, before finally saying, "Once we've you've opened the gifts of all your cousins and uncles, and if you show proper gratitude, then as a family we can open our gifts for eachother up stairs."
"And Master Yoda can join us?"
Her father hesitated slightly, before agreeing. "If he wants to."
"I do want to." Yoda answered, and added. "Look forward to it, I do."
...
After dark, the muggy air of Serenno cooled a bit at the top of the mountains as a breeze rolled in, ruffling Sifo's hair. Outside of the palace, in the wonderful garden of bright flowers and beautiful fountains, he sat alone and tried to meditate in the dim starlight. It would be easier if his head wasn't spinning, and if there wasn't the sound of loud music in the distance being enjoyed by other party goers.
Sifo could admit to himself that he'd had a bit too much to drink, and it wasn't the first time. The secrets he was keeping were incredibly stressful, to the point where releasing his feelings into the force wasn't always enough. What would his old friends think about him when they found out about what he had been up to? Would they be disappointed? Angry? Betrayed?
Yoda and the council had been furious about him misusing funds just for an education at the University of Teta, and that wasn't even a drop in the bucket compared to what was being spent on the Clone Army. Just the creation of a single purpose built cloning facility on Kamino cost billions of credits, and they'd built thousands. When complete, the Clone Army would number in the tens of billions, all of which had to be armed, trained, and outfitted for combat along with a vast array of specialized ground and air combat vehicles.
The debt that Sifo and Dooku had accrued would hang over the Republic's head for generations to come. Countless families would be driven below the surface of Coruscant by the government's struggle to even pay for the interest rates on those loans. All of this had been done without a vote passed, without a single consenting citizen made away.
To call it deeply immoral was an understatement.
But war was coming. Sifo knew it. It haunted his dreams. The sensations of hunger, and fire, seared his skins and ate him from the inside. A battle between the Light and the Dark that was going to tear this Galaxy to pieces, and leave trillions of innocents dead, in poverty, and bereft of their loved ones.
But the only thing worse than fighting a war was losing one.
It had to be done. The Republic would need an army in the coming years, he knew it. His prophecy couldn't be clearer, even if the Council didn't want to see it that way. Even if the Senate didn't. Even if the innocent people of the Republic didn't see it that way.
Stomach roiling, Sifo knew that he wasn't like Lord Hoth. He could never be like that hero of old, who never compromised on anything. Hoth had been given that name by history because he was like the planet, an ancient pillar of ice, unmoved by howling storms around it. Harsh, and unbending.
In contrast, Sifo's actions had already revealed to him that he was a deceiver, a betrayer, and lacking in true principle. No one would remember him as a hero. Even if the war he feared were to break out now, he would be too old to see it through. Every day his fitness slipped, and the weight of his burdens crushed him slightly more.
No, the Republic would need new Heroes. Decrepit, guilty old men would not nearly be enough to see it through the coming storm. They would need young, fresh faces unmarred by the corruption and stagnation that had brought them to this point.
A young mind touched Sifo's thoughts, and he recognised it instantly as his student. Tan'ya was searching for him, reaching out through the force. Gently, he sent her a mental greeting, and drew her towards him.
It was mere seconds before she arrived that he remembered to put the cap on his hip flask and hide it.
"There you are!" Tan'ya smiled at him as she approached, radiating satisfaction that she wasn't even bothering to hide. "You weren't at the gift exchange."
"Oh, I was meditating." Or trying to, anyway. "I lost track of time."
Tan'ya pushed herself up onto the bench next to him, and sat down with her legs dangling. The seat was too high for her feet to touch the ground.
"Here." She said, and offered him a white box wrapped in a red ribbon. "For you."
Eyebrow raised, Sifo accepted the gift and wordlessly took the lid off it. Inside he was curious to find an old-fashioned flimsibook, but newly published if the polished sheen of its cover was anything to judge by. The title shocked him. 'A Complete History of the Galactic Republic: Volume 1.' It even had cover art, using a picture of the earliest discovered star chart from the era, depicted in white on a black background.
"Do you like it?" Tan'ya asked him, seeming slightly nervous in the force.
In his hands was perfect clay. While working on the book together, Tan'ya had demonstrated a brilliant mind, a powerful connection to the force, and a real talent for the lightsaber.
She was quick to grasp new concepts, and often understood military and political ideas without needing them explained as though by sheer intuition. Even more than that, she was a member of the Jedi Order with all the legitimacy that brought her, without being bound by their stifling traditions. She was from an incredibly influential family, and would be raised into connections and contacts all across the Outer Rim.
He couldn't ask for a more perfect vessel.
In time, he would forge her into a hero for the Republic, and a weapon to crush the Sith. In the great warmachine he was building, she would be its guiding hand.
Future generations would forget Jedi Master Sifo Dyas, but they would judge Tan'ya of House Serenno.
Tears welled in his eyes, and before he could stop himself he pulled her into a hug.
She was shocked in the force at first, before hugging him back and seeming slightly disappointed. She sniffed. "You've been drinking."
"I'm sorry."
"Master, you're heavy!"
"I'm sorry."
He swallowed, and pulled away. Tears rolled down his face as he stood up and took out a handkerchief. He blew his nose and wiped away the tears, before turning to bow to her.
"Thank you." He told her. "It's a wonderful gift."
In the force he felt the bemusement radiating off of her with a touch of disapproval for him, but there amongst the rest of it all was love.
Anything that was sent to war could not be expected to return. Not warships, or blasters, armours or people. No matter how finely crafted, or carefully prepared, all of it was merely fuel for the fires of war. Battle consumed everything it touched.
The word 'betrayal' didn't even describe a fraction of his crimes. A tenth of it, a percentile. Sifo would damn his own student with horrific purpose. He was going to build her up, only to commit her to destruction. She would not end the coming war without her own scars to bear.
Head spinning, sick to his stomach, he turned and threw up in the garden. Acid burned his throat as he wiped the bile from his lips, and she looked at him disgusted and concerned.
"I'm sorry, Tan'ya, but I think I've had a bit too much to drink."
"I think so, too."
"I'll just go to my room and sleep it off."
"That's a good idea. Let me just call one of the-"
"Have a nice night, Tan'ya." He told her again, and walked away with her book tucked under his arm.
"Have a good sleep!" She called after him.
"I will!" He yelled back.
Despite his promise, Sifo didn't get a wink of sleep that night, and his stomach never stopped churning.
...
if you want to read ahead of the public release you can join my patreon :
patreon.com/Rimanovi