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Living Force - Sara & Dennys' Wedding Part 2
Wedding Drums
Professor Nelia Ives hated space travel, which was ironic given that astrogation was her chosen field of study. Her husband, Cal, loved starships and spent hundreds of hours building models of them when he wasn't working on flight control algorithms to manage the immense streams of traffic buzzing about core worlds. He could never understand why she didn't find the application of her theoretical work fascinating. "I prefer the math," was her usual response.
The truth was that she knew precisely how dangerous hyperspace travel could be; how an error in the millionth decimal place could, over the stunning distances being traversed, leave their atoms scattered throughout half the known universe. The idea had always unsettled her, but she had convinced herself the risk - the remote risk she kept reminding herself - was necessary for the opportunity to grow her career.
That's what had brought her and her husband to the little backwater system of Cularin so many years ago. Its twisted hyperspace shadow generated by the twin suns proved a major challenge to hyperspace travel, and she and Cal had spent over a decade trying to come up with a safe hyperspace algorithm for getting to the interior of the Cularin system. It proved a fruitless, if immensely intellectually stimulating, endeavor and in the end they recommended that inter-system hyperspace travel should continue to be avoided. Their sponsors at the Metatheran Cartel were rather disappointed.
When she left she had assumed they would never again be back, but that was before her daughter Sara had left studies at the finest technical institution on Coruscant to move back here. What would posses their brilliant little girl to leave the jewel of the galaxy for what she had always thought of as an unpleasant park was beyond her. Of course, the fact that Sara made her living as a transport pilot or some such convinced her that the whole thing was lunacy. Cal had told her many times over the years that Sara was obviously happier on Cularin than she was at home with them, although it was pretty clear he didn't understand what Sara saw in the place either. "She was born there," was his usual unconvincing plea.
Still, it was hard to summon the anger or disappointment she once felt at Sara's choices. That was 15 years ago, and Sara was their only child. For a decade they had worried for her with whatever anomaly had caused the Cularin system to disappear. She had helped with a taskforce at Coruscant University trying to analyze the phenomenon, which seemed to defy known physics. The relief they felt at finding out Sara was still alive was immense, but they weren't prepared for the reality of seeing their daughter return hardly aged a day. Somehow Nelia had never got around to closing the gap that lingered between them, and Sara only made it back to Coruscant for visits sporadically. It was clear from the way she talked about Cularin that she did love living there, despite her strange political ideas and questionable career choices.
Nelia had kept tabs on her daughter remotely. Repeats of Cularin local news reports filtered through the Holonet, and her name had come up in connection with an amazing number of people of importance - at least by Cularin standards. They were stunned to see her on the Holonet standing on the floor of Senate Chamber speaking on behalf of Senator Wren's petition for full Republic membership. Nelias pride at receiving a message of appreciation at their home from the Office of Chancellor Palpatine was immense, as she was a firm supporter of his strong leadership in these troubled times.
Now their only daughter was getting married. Purportedly her husband-to-be was an officer in the Army of the Republic. Having spent most of the past few years working on military-sponsored grants, she was a supporter of a strong Republic force although the idea of having Jedi commanding them made her and many of her comrades uneasy. Still, with the war on it was best that the Jedi were on the front line instead of interfering with the lives of average citizens.
They had originally planned to charter a flight, but with the Separatists moving closer to the core worlds it was getting more difficult to get commercial transport. Sara sent a message that said that some of her friends would be picking them up. The Corellian couple had met them at the spaceport, and any protests she might have had about the state of their rather outmoded ship were muffled by Cal's enthusiasm for every detail of the ship's history and modifications. Nelia had spent the majority of the trip in their "stateroom" reading, with Cal spending his time in the cockpit in what was apparently Sara's usual crew seat. They had left hyperspace several hours ago, taking the long sublight trip in-system, leaving them plenty of time to change out of traveling clothes.
The comm in her room beeped softly, and a woman's voice - Jewel was the name Nelia recalled - stated, "We are about to enter Cularin atmosphere, so you might want to strap in." Nelia put her datapad back into its case, and headed out to the main cabin to take a seat. Her husband Cal had been reluctant to leave the cockpit, but had been convinced by the Stendans to keep Nelia company during the entry cycle. He spent the remainder of the flight regaling Nelia with stories of space battles that Sara and the Stendans had fought in "The Dancer"--a name which took about five requests for clarification interrupting Cal's enthusiastic storytelling to get defined as the ship they were in fact riding on. She sat in stunned silence. Not only was her daughter risking her life hopping about the galaxy in hyperspace, but she was engaging in ship-to-ship combat with pirates and rogue navy ships. Madness! Cal, given his foolishly romantic visions of starship combat, was beaming with pride that his daughter was part of an "ace" transport crew.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she saw the ship's neurotic R2 unit shining a glow-rod about the unlit areas underneath the seats. They had been warned that the droid was a bit "quirky", but the image struck her as immensely funny and she began to chuckle to herself, encouraging Cal to believe the war stories were amusing her and pressing on with more details.
Finally the ship's engines powered down, and Nelia realized that the landing itself had been so smooth she barely felt the slight jolt of touch-down. The Stendans both emerged from the corridor leading to the cockpit, Ril smiling charmingly: "Welcome to Cularin." Unbuckling from the seats, Cal and Nelia followed their pilots to the lowering crew ramp. As they stepped down the ramp, the sticky humid air of the jungle poured over them. She had prepared for this by wearing a skin-tight cooling suit underneath her clothes, but it was still oppressive. They had landed in a clearing also occupied by a rather large transport and dozens of speeders. In the distance, there was a rhythmic pounding sound.
"What's that?" asked Nelia.
Jewel's response was not comforting, though she smiled encouragingly. "Tarasin wedding drums. The ceremony should be starting in an hour or so. Shall we?" With another encouraging smile for Nelia and Cal, Jewel takes Rils arm and they lead the way down the path.
Appalled by the statement, Nelia glances at her husband. "Wedding Drums?" she mouths. Taking his hand and following the Stendan's lead, she whispers to Cal, "What has Sara gotten us into?"
Professor Nelia Ives hated space travel, which was ironic given that astrogation was her chosen field of study. Her husband, Cal, loved starships and spent hundreds of hours building models of them when he wasn't working on flight control algorithms to manage the immense streams of traffic buzzing about core worlds. He could never understand why she didn't find the application of her theoretical work fascinating. "I prefer the math," was her usual response.
The truth was that she knew precisely how dangerous hyperspace travel could be; how an error in the millionth decimal place could, over the stunning distances being traversed, leave their atoms scattered throughout half the known universe. The idea had always unsettled her, but she had convinced herself the risk - the remote risk she kept reminding herself - was necessary for the opportunity to grow her career.
That's what had brought her and her husband to the little backwater system of Cularin so many years ago. Its twisted hyperspace shadow generated by the twin suns proved a major challenge to hyperspace travel, and she and Cal had spent over a decade trying to come up with a safe hyperspace algorithm for getting to the interior of the Cularin system. It proved a fruitless, if immensely intellectually stimulating, endeavor and in the end they recommended that inter-system hyperspace travel should continue to be avoided. Their sponsors at the Metatheran Cartel were rather disappointed.
When she left she had assumed they would never again be back, but that was before her daughter Sara had left studies at the finest technical institution on Coruscant to move back here. What would posses their brilliant little girl to leave the jewel of the galaxy for what she had always thought of as an unpleasant park was beyond her. Of course, the fact that Sara made her living as a transport pilot or some such convinced her that the whole thing was lunacy. Cal had told her many times over the years that Sara was obviously happier on Cularin than she was at home with them, although it was pretty clear he didn't understand what Sara saw in the place either. "She was born there," was his usual unconvincing plea.
Still, it was hard to summon the anger or disappointment she once felt at Sara's choices. That was 15 years ago, and Sara was their only child. For a decade they had worried for her with whatever anomaly had caused the Cularin system to disappear. She had helped with a taskforce at Coruscant University trying to analyze the phenomenon, which seemed to defy known physics. The relief they felt at finding out Sara was still alive was immense, but they weren't prepared for the reality of seeing their daughter return hardly aged a day. Somehow Nelia had never got around to closing the gap that lingered between them, and Sara only made it back to Coruscant for visits sporadically. It was clear from the way she talked about Cularin that she did love living there, despite her strange political ideas and questionable career choices.
Nelia had kept tabs on her daughter remotely. Repeats of Cularin local news reports filtered through the Holonet, and her name had come up in connection with an amazing number of people of importance - at least by Cularin standards. They were stunned to see her on the Holonet standing on the floor of Senate Chamber speaking on behalf of Senator Wren's petition for full Republic membership. Nelias pride at receiving a message of appreciation at their home from the Office of Chancellor Palpatine was immense, as she was a firm supporter of his strong leadership in these troubled times.
Now their only daughter was getting married. Purportedly her husband-to-be was an officer in the Army of the Republic. Having spent most of the past few years working on military-sponsored grants, she was a supporter of a strong Republic force although the idea of having Jedi commanding them made her and many of her comrades uneasy. Still, with the war on it was best that the Jedi were on the front line instead of interfering with the lives of average citizens.
They had originally planned to charter a flight, but with the Separatists moving closer to the core worlds it was getting more difficult to get commercial transport. Sara sent a message that said that some of her friends would be picking them up. The Corellian couple had met them at the spaceport, and any protests she might have had about the state of their rather outmoded ship were muffled by Cal's enthusiasm for every detail of the ship's history and modifications. Nelia had spent the majority of the trip in their "stateroom" reading, with Cal spending his time in the cockpit in what was apparently Sara's usual crew seat. They had left hyperspace several hours ago, taking the long sublight trip in-system, leaving them plenty of time to change out of traveling clothes.
The comm in her room beeped softly, and a woman's voice - Jewel was the name Nelia recalled - stated, "We are about to enter Cularin atmosphere, so you might want to strap in." Nelia put her datapad back into its case, and headed out to the main cabin to take a seat. Her husband Cal had been reluctant to leave the cockpit, but had been convinced by the Stendans to keep Nelia company during the entry cycle. He spent the remainder of the flight regaling Nelia with stories of space battles that Sara and the Stendans had fought in "The Dancer"--a name which took about five requests for clarification interrupting Cal's enthusiastic storytelling to get defined as the ship they were in fact riding on. She sat in stunned silence. Not only was her daughter risking her life hopping about the galaxy in hyperspace, but she was engaging in ship-to-ship combat with pirates and rogue navy ships. Madness! Cal, given his foolishly romantic visions of starship combat, was beaming with pride that his daughter was part of an "ace" transport crew.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she saw the ship's neurotic R2 unit shining a glow-rod about the unlit areas underneath the seats. They had been warned that the droid was a bit "quirky", but the image struck her as immensely funny and she began to chuckle to herself, encouraging Cal to believe the war stories were amusing her and pressing on with more details.
Finally the ship's engines powered down, and Nelia realized that the landing itself had been so smooth she barely felt the slight jolt of touch-down. The Stendans both emerged from the corridor leading to the cockpit, Ril smiling charmingly: "Welcome to Cularin." Unbuckling from the seats, Cal and Nelia followed their pilots to the lowering crew ramp. As they stepped down the ramp, the sticky humid air of the jungle poured over them. She had prepared for this by wearing a skin-tight cooling suit underneath her clothes, but it was still oppressive. They had landed in a clearing also occupied by a rather large transport and dozens of speeders. In the distance, there was a rhythmic pounding sound.
"What's that?" asked Nelia.
Jewel's response was not comforting, though she smiled encouragingly. "Tarasin wedding drums. The ceremony should be starting in an hour or so. Shall we?" With another encouraging smile for Nelia and Cal, Jewel takes Rils arm and they lead the way down the path.
Appalled by the statement, Nelia glances at her husband. "Wedding Drums?" she mouths. Taking his hand and following the Stendan's lead, she whispers to Cal, "What has Sara gotten us into?"