Yeah, so, Im early, suprise, UHHHHHH, I might be going on a trip for work and Ill be away all week so im gonna try and also get another chapter out tonight, but no promises. Anyway enjoy.
BTW P@treon has been updated as well, much more fun over there honestly, with the plot. Not just saying that cause I want money, just genuinely better plot.
P@treon Hermit47
...
Vel Astra looked too peaceful for a world at war.
That was Ahsoka's first thought as the shuttle descended through pale clouds and toward the capital.
From orbit the planet had seemed almost ornamental, all bright oceans, white-stone cities, and ordered agricultural belts cut into elegant geometry. Even now, as she stepped down the boarding ramp behind Master Luminara, she had to remind herself that appearances were exactly what wars learned to exploit. The air was crisp, the sky a calm silver-blue, and the capital spread before them in terraces of polished marble, mirrored windows, and narrow towers crowned with gold. It was beautiful in a way that made her instinctively suspicious.
Commander Gree led the way off the landing platform with a platoon of the 41st Elite close behind him, their green-marked armor bright against the pale stone of the capital approach. Luminara walked at the head of the Jedi party, her dark robes falling in measured folds around her, green skin calm and unreadable in the sunlight. Barriss kept to her right, composed as ever. Ahsoka followed on the left, trying not to feel as though everything around her was too polished, too soft, too unlike the worlds she had spent the last weeks on.
Luminara did not look at her when she began speaking, but her tone made it clear that every word was meant to be heard and remembered.
"Padawan, you will observe before you speak."
Ahsoka kept pace beside her. "Yes, Master."
"You will not let the beauty of this world distract you from the purpose of our presence."
Ahsoka glanced toward the distant palace rising over the city center. "I wasn't planning on it."
"I would prefer certainty to plans."
That sounded like Luminara.
Ahsoka kept her mouth shut.
They moved down the broad avenue from the landing court toward the capital building, clone boots striking the stone in disciplined rhythm behind them. The city around them did not stop for their arrival, but it did slow. Civilians paused at the edges of plazas and market arches to watch the Jedi and troopers pass. State functionaries moved aside. Aerial speeders changed lanes to avoid the convoy route. Everyone noticed them, even when pretending not to.
Luminara continued the briefing as though the movement of the city itself meant nothing.
"The majority of our fleet will remain in orbit," she said. "If the encrypted transmissions our intelligence services intercepted are genuine, then any overt assault on the planet will begin from above. The blockade posture is there to discourage that."
Barriss added, "The 41st will maintain a reduced but mobile presence planetside. Rotating teams at the palace, the capital building, and the primary route between them."
Ahsoka nodded. "So if there is an attack on the ground, there won't be enough clones to cover every angle."
"Exactly," Luminara said. "Which is why your attention matters more than your reflexes."
Ahsoka resisted the urge to argue that on some days her reflexes were actually very useful.
Luminara either sensed the thought or simply knew her well enough already to anticipate it.
"A quick blade is not a substitute for awareness, Padawan."
Ahsoka exhaled through her nose. "You and Master Skywalker teach very differently."
"That," Luminara said, "has already become clear."
Commander Gree slowed slightly so that he could speak without interrupting the rhythm of the escort around them. "We've already got outer palace positions mapped, General. The Prime Minister requested a small visible security detail for public confidence."
Luminara's expression did not shift. "He'll have what I decide he should have."
Gree nodded once. "Understood."
That, at least, sounded more familiar to Ahsoka. Even the stricter masters got sharper when politicians started deciding what kind of protection they wanted to be seen with.
They reached the broad steps of the capital building minutes later.
The structure rose in smooth white lines and vast columns, built less like a fortress than a declaration of wealth and permanence. At the top of the steps stood the Prime Minister of Vel Astra with a cluster of local guards around him in polished ceremonial armor that looked more expensive than practical. He wore layered robes in pale silver and blue, and though his posture was composed, something in the set of his shoulders suggested a man who had rehearsed his own confidence in front of a mirror before coming out to greet them.
He descended two steps as they approached and spread his hands in formal welcome.
"Master Unduli," he said, inclining his head. "Vel Astra is honored by the Republic's concern."
Luminara did not return the warmth. She returned the courtesy.
"Prime Minister."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Barriss, then to Ahsoka, then to the clone escort behind them.
"We are grateful for your speed," he said. "These threats have caused some concern among our people."
Luminara did not bother with pleasantries.
"I'll be redirecting clone security assignments at once," she said. "And I need immediate audience with the Queen and her son."
For the first time, the Prime Minister's expression slipped.
"Her Majesty and the Prince are already adequately protected," he said. "There's no need to disturb the palace if our offices can coordinate here."
Luminara stopped halfway up the steps, forcing him either to continue descending toward her or speak down at her from above. He chose to stop as well, which was a mistake. It made the power struggle visible.
"That is not your decision to make," she said, and her voice remained so level that the words cut harder for it. "I've been given authority over all protective measures on this world under direct order of the Republic and the Office of the Supreme Chancellor. Until the threat is resolved, I will determine who is protected, how they are protected, and where my troops are stationed."
The Prime Minister's jaw tightened, but he smiled as though he had not been corrected in front of his own guards.
"Of course, Master Jedi. I only meant that—"
"I know what you meant."
The silence after that was brief, but enough to make several of the local guards look away.
Ahsoka tried not to stare.
She was getting better at that too.
The Prime Minister recovered with admirable speed, turned, and gestured them inward. "Then I'll escort you to the palace myself."
Luminara began walking again without thanking him.
Ahsoka and Barriss followed, and behind them the clone escort adjusted formation in smooth, practiced motion as they entered the building.
The royal palace made the capital look restrained.
By the time they reached the great throne hall, Ahsoka had already decided that whoever ruled Vel Astra preferred authority to be displayed in exhausting quantities. The hall was vast, white and gold and luminous under hanging chandeliers, every surface polished so carefully it nearly reflected. Tall windows let in the afternoon light through sheer drapes of silver thread. Courtiers and nobles clustered in elegant groups below the steps of the throne, speaking in low voices about arrangements, schedules, and some banquet that apparently mattered very much to all of them.
At the far end, on a raised throne worked in pearl-white metal and gold, sat the Queen.
She was striking, older than Ahsoka had expected but with the kind of beauty that had only sharpened into harder lines over time. Her robes were regal to the point of excess, layered in white silk and gold embroidery, and her expression made it immediately clear that being interrupted was something she considered a personal insult.
At her side stood the Prince.
He was younger than Ahsoka expected, near her own age or perhaps a little older, dressed in tailored court attire rather than armor, his face handsome in a way that had probably made life easier for him than it should have. He was quiet, attentive, and watching everything with bright, assessing eyes.
The palace doors opened wide.
Conversation died.
Luminara entered first with Barriss and Ahsoka flanking her, the 41st clone platoon behind them under Gree's command. The Prime Minister followed half a step too late, already looking as though he regretted the entire sequence of events.
The Queen rose slightly from her throne, not from respect, but from outrage.
"What is the meaning of this?"
The Prime Minister stepped forward, palms raised in placation. "Your Majesty, I tried to explain—"
"Yes," the Queen said sharply. "And clearly failed."
Her gaze fixed on Luminara, then on the clones.
"I permitted orbital protection," she said, each word clipped and cold, "because I understand the theater of wartime optics. I did not permit Jedi and armored soldiers to trample through my palace as though this were some provincial checkpoint."
A few of the palace guards shifted uncomfortably. They were armed, but not enough to feel easy in a room suddenly full of Republic clones.
Luminara did not bow. She did not soften.
"With respect, Your Majesty, permission is not the issue," she said. "You are under Republic protection by authority of the Senate and the Chancellor. While that protection remains active, I am responsible for its execution."
The Queen's eyes narrowed. "This is my home."
"And this is my duty."
It was not loud. It did not need to be.
The room felt colder.
Then another voice entered the exchange.
"The Jedi is correct."
The senator had arrived late.
He stepped through the open side doors with the look of a man who had spent the walk there regretting every decision that had led him to public life. He was human, dressed in senatorial robes of dark blue and white, his face intelligent but lined with the sort of caution that did not come from wisdom so much as long experience being shouted down by stronger personalities.
He approached carefully, bowing first to the Queen, then to Luminara.
"By order of the Chancellor's office," he said, "we are required to comply."
The Queen turned on him with open disdain.
"How kind of you to remember your function, Senator."
He bowed his head a fraction lower, and though his expression did not fully collapse into meekness, the instinct was there. Ahsoka saw it clearly enough.
The senator looked miserable.
The senator looked practiced in being insulted.
And the Queen looked as though she would rather have thrown all of them out than admit she could not.
Before the room could sink further into hostility, the Prince stepped down from the dais.
His expression was easier than his mother's, his voice smoother, and his smile just warm enough to suggest someone who had spent years learning how to make other people lower their guard.
"If this is how we begin," he said, "then perhaps we should begin again."
He approached Luminara first and bowed with precise courtly grace. "Welcome to Vel Astra, Master Jedi."
Then to Barriss. Then his attention shifted.
And settled on Ahsoka.
His smile changed—not much, but enough for her to notice.
"And you," he said, stepping a little closer than was necessary, "must be the youngest Knight the Republic has seen in some time."
"I'm not a Knight," Ahsoka said. "I'm a Padawan."
He took her offered correction as if it were an invitation.
"Then your master is fortunate."
He reached for her hand before she quite realized he intended to.
Ahsoka let him touch it for exactly one second before pulling it back with a look sharp enough to draw blood.
"I'm here on assignment, not for court games."
The Prince blinked.
Then smiled again, though less comfortably this time.
"As you wish."
He stepped back, but there was annoyance under the smoothness now, and Ahsoka caught it.
Good.
Let him be annoyed.
The Queen, having apparently decided that maintaining direct hostility would now look undignified, settled back into her throne with chilly elegance.
"You're free to do as you wish within reason," she said, as though magnanimously granting a privilege rather than yielding to military necessity. "Just remember that you are guests here."
Luminara's expression made it clear she did not consider herself a guest at all.
But she inclined her head.
"We will remember our responsibilities, Your Majesty."
That was as close to concession as either woman was likely to come.
The audience dissolved after that into a strained rearrangement of rank and space. Courtiers withdrew to the edges of the hall in murmuring knots. Palace guards kept their distance from the clones. Gree began quietly redirecting his men with efficient hand signals, establishing interior posts with minimal disruption.
Ahsoka stepped nearer to Barriss and lowered her voice.
"Tell me that was just a court-world thing and not normal."
Barriss kept her eyes forward. "Unfortunately, it is normal. Sometimes even worse."
Ahsoka glanced back toward the throne. "The Queen hates the Senator."
"She hates everyone," Barriss murmured. "The Senator just receives it more regularly."
That almost got a smile out of her.
Almost.
Because beneath all of it—the arrogance, the politics, the posturing—something about the room still felt wrong.
Not dramatic. Not obvious.
But wrong.
The Prime Minister was too eager to redirect attention. The Senator was too nervous. The Queen was too angry at protection she should have welcomed. And the Prince…
Ahsoka looked at him again.
He had resumed his place beside the throne, but his eyes were still occasionally finding her across the hall.
She looked away first, not because she felt shy, but because she had no patience for that kind of attention.
Luminara motioned for both Padawans to follow as she moved toward one side of the hall where a smaller council chamber opened off the throne room.
"This mission is now in effect," she said quietly as soon as they were out of easy earshot. "Barriss, coordinate with Commander Gree on internal patrol routes. Padawan Tano, you're with me. We'll review the palace access records, the movements of every official present during the intercepted threat transmissions, and the locations of the royal archive."
Ahsoka straightened. "Yes, Master."
Luminara studied her for one brief moment.
"Do not let the theatrics distract you. Places like this often hide rot beneath ceremony."
Ahsoka thought of the Queen's scorn, the Prince's smile, the Prime Minister's discomfort, the Senator's submission.
"No," she said quietly. "I don't think that'll be a problem."
And as the Jedi began to settle into their positions inside the shining heart of Vel Astra, the first pieces of the mission shifted into place.
The Republic believed they had arrived to protect a vital world from assassination.
What they had actually entered was a palace full of liars, pride, and something much uglier waiting underneath.