Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Alice Bee and Christopher Levy.
One year after the Battle of Yavin (36:2:7) in the Alderaan system: Delaya (Leiliani: Rodney Castle).
Farrah Ette and Lord Gaius Rodney.

"Argh!" Gaius Rodney screamed, as he balled his right hand into a fist and plunged it into wall. "Tell me why of all times for our assassin to strike it had to be when his previously unknown bastard son was in the line of fire?" he asked, knowing there was no suitable answer that would calm him down. The man was furious, his skin was a deep shade of red, and he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "I worked so hard to turn public opinion against Claudius and Marcus to have this bastard, Mug ... can you believe it ... I lose to someone named *Mug*?" he said, throwing his hands around in the air, incredulously, as he tried to think of a plan. "And then Jelena ... who was always a bit too prissy if you ask me ... goes and gets herself killed," he said, as he collapsed in his large, plush chair, lowering his head in shame, and bringing his hand to his forehead to console himself. "Claudius was supposed to come here to abdicate ... to abdicate!" he said, as he grabbed one of the throw pillows next to him, and threw it aside violently. Where did all these pillows come from, he wondered to himself ... Nona! It had to be Nona. "Now he arrives a tragic figure in mourning. The entire city will turn out in tribute. Her memorial service will eclipse my wedding and I will be forgotten," he said, shaking his head, as he stared down at the floor. There was a bulging vein in his temple ... he was on the verge of an aneurism. There had to be *something* he could do to regain public favor.

Farrah Rodney sat perched like a perfect porcelain doll at Nona's vanity inside of the room she shared with her father. She was powdering her face with the expensive, lavish make up that the poor woman had. She didn't have to look at Gaius to see him. The mirror in front of her, which her bright blue eyes focused on, revealed the man in distress. He wasn't the only one furious about the new developments. "If only *Julius* hadn't decided that fucking a crocodile handbag wasn't appealing anymore. What were the chances!?" She was angry. Farrah had been playing her own part in his plan, working as a slave inside of the Rodney castle. She grew tired of helping Duchess Livia undress and bathe when she was too drunk to do it herself. She had spent enough time collecting various undergarments from the floor of the playboy Rodney. She was *not* going to allow him to take the throne away from Daddy dearest.

She placed the brush down, moving on to a brush with elaborate details in its handle. It reminded her of a piece she had stolen from Duchess Livia's room and planted in another maiden's belongings to frame her and see her contract terminated.

She deserved it.

Running the brush through her long, dark hair, Farrah swiveled towards Gaius in time to see the pillow go flying through the room. Nona's sense of decorating was disgusting. Julius' head on the wall would have perfectly complimented the room's color. Instead, it had turned into a fufu princess land. She saw that he needed her. Placing the brush on the vanity, she rose to her bare feet. She padded across the room, this time coming to rest on the arm of his big, plush chair. She reached her little hand out, running it over his shoulder. "All hope is not lost, Father." She said, "We can still make you a Duke yet. Since Cup appeared, I've been plotting." A demonic smile fell over her otherwise cherubic face. The young Rodney was a beautiful girl, but she had a strain of pure evil inside of her. "Daddy... What do you think about being a victim? A horrible, *horrible* incident is going to occur at the funeral of Jelena Rodney. Some horrible, terrible Imperial planted a bomb. The oh so heroic Commander of the Guard noticed it just with enough time to save the innocent. The only sacrifice, himself."

Gaius reached forward, taking hold of his daughter with a firm grasp, and giving her a boost until she was upon his lap. "You are very wise, Farrah," he said softly, as his hand began to do the work that the brush had attempted. "I was wrong to consider giving up after how far I have come ... how far *we* have come," he explained to her, as his fingers wove their way through her dark hair. "Better it be a Rebel bombing though, sweetheart," he said to her, as the wheels also began to turn within his brain, though perhaps no longer than hers. His daughter had learned a lot from him ... perhaps too much. "Public opinion favors the Rebellion, which was key to eliminating Claudius as a contender to the Duchy, but once *we* are in power I must have good relations with the Emperor," he explained to her, as his hand moved away from her hair, and he wrapped her in a tight embrace. "I do not want our planet to suffer the same fate as Alderaan, and I do not want Claudius to step in with an investigation, or feel the need to police these people," he explained to her, as he prepared himself mentally for a trying series of days. There was the formal arrival of Claudius, followed by Jelena's funeral service, Mug and Iyah's wedding, the formal abdication of Claudius and Marcus, and perhaps, should fate decree, a coronation. It was a turbulent time for Delaya and the House of Rodney. "Perhaps someone need inform Claudius that his bastard brother is balls deep in a Rebel commander..." he said, as he moved his hand to gently caress her cheek. She was beginning to look more like her *late* mother more and more each day, but he dare not tell her. The nerve was still *raw*.

The little girl snuggled against her Father's chest. The time that they had both been waiting for has arisen. They had fantasized about the day Duke Gaius headed the House of Rodney. She wasn't able to easily break away from that idea. She already had to swallow watching her Father marry *that* woman. Farrah accepted fate. It was what needed to happen, not necessarily what she wanted to happen. One woman had already abandoned him, abandoned *them*. She refused to see it happen again, even if she had to take the situation into her own hands. Nona was unaware of her identity, as were everyone else but herself and Gaius. No one suspected that the sweet, young girl was continuously causing problems at Castle Rodney for the sake of her father. She sighed, "There's no giving up. We're going to celebrate our victory at the end of this. I don't care if I have to kill the old man myself."

She nodded her head. A Rebel bomb was a better idea. The Commander could take the hit while they spun the story to benefit him. They inspired one another. It was possibly their greatest combine strength. "No one wants to see a second Alderaan. We can sway the Emperor when the time comes." She was trying to soothe him. A single, small hand ran through his hair. She was aware of the current schedule. She also had her own personal ideas about how she was going to make it easier for her father. She giggled, "Oh! You reminded me! I got you a present." She wiggled in his lap. One of her hand disappeared into the pocket of her trousers. She withdrew a tiny data chip. "The Rebel Commander doesn't seem terribly concerned with her security. I copied all of the data off of her Holopad onto this." She tapped it with her finger, "Opportunity is our friend," she reminded him. "When Claudius arrives, we'll escort him to the bastard's room. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll see exactly what Cup is fucking. He's lonely. She's been gone so much lately." She leaned in close to his ear. "I heard them talking..."

"She was part of the crew who killed Jelena."

Gaius leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss upon Farrah's cheek. "The information you have brought me could not have been more useful," he said, as he reached out to take the data chip from her. "But always remember, child, never offer a buffet when you can feed them with an appetizer," he said, as he tucked the chip away in his own pocket for safekeeping. "The people support the Rebellion ... particularly the wretched refugee scum filling Tarkintown. There are many ... too many ... who would view Iyah as a hero, rather than a villain," he scoffed, as his hands tightened around his beautifully evil young daughter. "We need not have Claudius become enraged and start killing people. Also, letting him know there are Rebels under his own roof might cause him to look where he ought not to," he explained to her, as his hand moved up her back slowly. "We must scare her off. The bastard will chase after her like a pet. Then we need only allow Claudius and Marcus to abdicate, and it will be *ours*," he reasoned, becoming quite excited by the prospects of how close they were to him. "I will endear myself to them. I will make it known that she is known, and she will take flight. She'll have no choice," he said, as he flashed a wicked grin at his daughter. She already seemed more ruthless than him, going straight for the jugular, when a mere whisper would do. Would the day come when she would turn against him? He doubted he could match her wits, cunning, and deviousness.

This was the final stretch. Farrah was ready to pull out the big guns now that the end was in sight. Her hand fell after he had taken the chip. Her head rested on his shoulder. Her father was wise. He was constantly teaching her and she learned. The young girl was already becoming an expert manipulator. She nodded her head like a hungry little pupil. "If Claudius began killing people, it would solve many problems..." She commented, laughing softly to show that it was only a joke. The old brother would likely hurt himself if he overexerted himself like that. Farrah released a sigh. She lived out tense, frustrating days in the Rodney Castle. It was nice when she had the opportunity to spend time with her father.

"The playboy is on board to abdicate. His wife will see to it that they never enter the Duchy. That leaves Claudius as our only problem." She adored his plans to expose Iyah. Excited, she squeezed him around the neck. "Oh, Daddy! You're so amazing! I hope to be as good as you when I grow up." She squeaked. Jelena's funeral was just days away. The bomb was going to greatly help their cause. "You'll endear yourself to Marcus instantly if you can manage to get his pregnant cow away from the blast. Claudius will come to. He's has his own plate full of problems."

"If an Imperial Grand Moff kills the Rebel commander who recently brought food to the refugees, they will rise up, storm the castle, and overthrow the Duke," Gaius explained to her, as he reached out with his hand and tapped her on her cute little nose. "It would end the dynasty and government would turn over to the rabble ... *democracy*," he said, adding a level of disgust to that last word as he spoke it. "Besides, killing people is our purview, and I do not like to share," he explained to her, as he held her close to him. Soon she would grow to a size that would make it difficult for him to hold her like this, and he feared for that day. "I'd rather you become as *bad* as me, my dear," he said, as again, a kiss was placed upon her cheek as he showered her with affection. "I think it would take a tractor beam to pull Zara away from the blast. Have you seen how *big* she has gotten? Twins..." he mocked her, as he began to playfully bounce his little monster upon his lap.

Total chaos was a beautiful thing, but not in this scenario. The situation needed to stay within their hands. She groaned. "You don't have to sicken me, Father." Democracy. She'd rather the pregnant cow and the playboy take the throne over that. No matter how big she was, she'd always figure out a way to make herself comfortable in his lap. She was thirteen now. She was growing into a beautiful young lady who anticipated the day she could shred her rags and let people *know* who she was. Her arms remained around his neck. Girlish squeals came from her over the ticklish kisses he showered her with. She loved her father. She adored him like no other. Her only regret was that the situation wasn't different. She giggled more while he bounced her. "A tractor beam? That's a good idea..." She mused playfully. "Tell me. Is that Rodney family thing? I don't want twins. I want a boy who I can make suitable to follow you."

The thought of someone impregnating his daughter was not a pleasant one. "You are too young to think of children. You are still a child yourself. *My* child," he said, possessively, as her hands gripped her a bit too tightly. "No. There is no recorded recent history of twins among our family. Maybe it is a Ta'em thing, but I know nothing of them, nor do I care to investigate," he explained to her, as the topic of 'Zarcus' always seemed to sour his mood. The young Lord Marcus Rodney had everything and chose to squander it away on alcohol, gambling, and women. Gaius had worked for everything he had, but somewhere along the line became bitter, twisted, and oh so jealous. He was green with envy, and could not bare to see his family's legacy tarnished by a traitor like Jelena, a playboy like Marcus, or a bastard like Mug. This rightfully belonged to them, he thought to himself. "*You* will succeed me, daughter. None other," he vowed to her, as he locked his eyes upon her, emotionless, and extremely confident.

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