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“Alana, are you sure this is a good idea?”
Violet considered her reflection in the mirror. She was hiding away in her aunt’s bedroom aboard her ship, the New Hope. Under Alana’s request, Violet was sneaking along to a meeting on the planet Mandalore. The Mandalorian Duchess, Satine Achilles-Kryze, was the leader of the Council of Neutral Systems, and the only member of the group who did not make an appearance at Queen Ianthe’s party two weeks prior. As Alana had political training and a loose familial connection to the planet, it was now her job to lay the groundwork for Aphelion to secure a place on the Council.
The affair had no connection to the Republic, which was why Violet was wearing the uniform of the Apheli Royal Guard. When she used to visit Court, the guards used to scare her — the expressionless faces and stoic nature were unusual to her as a little girl who was used to everyone smiling and being warm toward her. Now Violet understood duty and how it was the expectation for soldiers to appear cold and intimidating.
“Of course,” Alana replied on the other side of the door. “You always say you want to learn more about politics.”
Violet opened the bedroom door to look up at her companion. “I learn plenty in my lessons with the Chancellor.”
“Books can’t teach you everything, Vi. You need some experience.” Alana smiled and began walking towards the cockpit.
“I’ve sat through Senate meetings before!” the padawan retorted, staring after her aunt.
“The Senate is boring,” the Princess called back, “Wouldn’t you rather go to someplace new?”
Violet huffed. Alana was right — as usual. Violet’s mother used to talk about Mandalore highly, even though she never saw her aunts here, and Violet longed to visit. It sounded like an interesting place; she always listened earnestly when her mother did her best to recount the planet’s long and complicated history.
History interested Violet even more than politics and the Force, and she hoped to learn something new on this trip. Her only issue was if she could really pass as Alana’s guard.
Even with her Jedi robes discarded and her lightsaber hidden, the uniform didn’t fit her. It was the right size, but Violet did not know how to carry herself while wearing it. As she looked back in the mirror, she attempted to stand straight and tall like Nova and the other clones. But she looked like she was trying to be something she wasn’t. She liked the uniform (blue and gold; more fabric and leather than plates of armour), but it wasn’t her.
Violet shook her head and looked away from the mirror. She trusted Alana and knew nothing could go wrong while they were together. (Alana always knew how to maintain control in a situation; it was her tactic to act like she was less competent so people would underestimate her, allowing her to keep the element of surprise on her side when she needed it.) Violet patted the back of her belt, where she had concealed her lightsaber under her tunic and left the room. A lightsaber was like an extra limb for a Jedi, and Violet was no exception. It was probably against protocol to bring a weapon to such an occasion (Alana didn’t even have a blaster with her), but Violet felt lost without it. She still had her old blue one too; it remained on the ship with her Jedi robes — she couldn’t let it go yet.
