Beauty In Simplicity
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of it's characters (save for the one I made up along the way) and I'm definitely not going to be making any money from this, so please don't sue me! This is purely for fun.
Title: Beauty In Simplicity
Characters: Kuat of Kuat
Rating: PG
Fic beneath the cut to save screen space, enjoy!
The following happens before and during the events of BHW 3: Hard Merchandise
Beauty In Simplicity
The great structure creaked and groaned loudly under the heat and strain of warping struts and supports. The lights, illuminating the ring corridor of the service rig, blinking out and showering sparks like stars that had been extinguished one by one in the grip some ruthless, invisible hand.
With each light that winked out of existence, each second that passed, the encroaching darkness drew ever closer, reaching out to the lone figure of a man with its cold sinuous fingers to enshroud him as he sat silently upon a small pile of resource crates.
To let him know that along with the death of light, his own end would not be far behind.
In his lap, curled up, fearful and trembling, lay the one loyal creature that had been with him from start to finish. Quietly he stroked the creature’s silken fur, finding solace in the fact that at least he would have one true friend with him at the end, bitter that it had to be done this way, that it had to have been he who took this step. But truly, what other choice did he have left to him?
None - death whispered to him, seductively, from beyond the darkness, explosions rocking the construction docks, growing ominously close as a reminder. It would soon all be over and for that he was relieved.
“Shhh,” He whispered soothingly to the troubled felinx cradled in his arms, fingers stroking the pressure synapses behind it’s sharply angular and pointed ears, “It won’t be long now.”
*****
“Young master, would you please get down from there! Your father gave me strict instructions to prepare you for this journey and stipulated, adamantly I might add, that you should not be late. I cannot very well do that when you insist on being distracted by fluxi-whatever you call one of those devices.”
The child of approximately eight years of age, dressed in a swathe of sharply designed fabric of gold and deep blue that made up his ornate robes, stared dispassionately at the source of the exasperated voice - a rare sight of a female telbun, clad in the overbearing stuffy robes and heavy, tall cylindrical hat that signified their station in life. In the child’s hands, dismantled remnants of mechanical parts leaving his palms blackened in places by the dirt and oil that kept the device’s servos lubricated.
“You’re hands are filthy, you’re going to get dirt all over your robes, he’s going to be most displeased with you...” The nagging continued, and although he was quite within his rights to dismiss her, for she was not any part of his noble bloodline, nor was he she even so in part, she had been charged with ensuring he get to where he need be this day, and under the authority of his father whom he could not afford to disobey. It was that fact that kept him from rebuking her.
Sitting atop a large workbench, more accustomed to seeing heavy engine construction than it’s current occupant resting upon it’s surfaces, the child who’s name was something of an identity and title in the making, turned away his emerald gaze and fixed it upon the mass of parts strewn across the bench, mentally recalling where each one had been, what was broken and what could still be salvaged. A pet project of sorts, something he had had a fascination with for as long as his young mind could remember, the careful mechanics of how each machine was put together, what each part did to make the next work, and more appropriately, how he could make it better. A technical mind was nothing new to his family, it was a trait that ran strong in his bloodline, where other members of the ruling households of Kuat had become diluted and tainted over the years, his bloodline had remained the one, true constant that kept their world affluent. It kept them strong.
Just as he, himself, was strong in will and perhaps a margin stubborn.
Evidently, he was not the only one who was aware of this as the telbun, unto whom his father had entrusted with his son’s care, hadn’t thought better to leave him to his task.
Unlike most children born to the noble households, Kuat of Kuat’s upbringing had been a rather unorthodox one by fate’s choice alone. His mother, whom he would never recognize socially as such, had been as society dictated, his father’s telbun, a middle class breeder chosen for her adept skill and intellect to perpetuate the Kuat bloodline. That in it’s self was not the reason for this unfortunate state of affairs, rather that she had died giving birth to him, resulting in his care becoming the responsibility of those elite members of his own household, often palming him off onto their own staff or telbuns themselves. But despite the odds, he had turned out to be one of the sharper minded ones among them, always keen, never dull and fiercely independent.
Just so, he might have thought, as he was exercising that independence right now.
“Flux capacitor.” He responded, the first words he had spoken since the beginning of this engagement, “It’s called a flux capacitor.”
The telbun, face as impassively emotionless as ever, did not comment.
Wearily, he looked between the object of his prior attention and the female requesting that he move himself quite promptly.
He could always refuse.
But in doing that he knew that she was not lying when she had stated that his father would be most displeased with him. His attendance was seldom requested off world, and never during his fathers working hours. Whatever the reason for this impromptu meeting, it had to be something important.
Kuat loosed a theatrical sigh, shoulders slumping in that dramatical way all kids seemed to possess when asked to put down what they were currently enjoying and do some mundane chore for their parent.
Uncrossing his legs and scooting from his comfortable position atop the workbench, he swung his legs over the side and dropped down firmly on his feet, taking great care not to brush the formal robes, he had been requested to wear this day, with his mucky hands.
Slowly, if not meekly then at least not haughtily, he turned his green eyed gaze upward, meeting that of his caregiver, in time to see the woman give a slow nod approvingly.
“Come, it wouldn’t do for you to be late.”
*****
The lights of the orbital construction docks glittered and shone as brightly as any star, all of them pin pricks of argent brilliance that cast glassy reflections in the tinted transparisteel of the private KDY shuttle and indeed the eyes of the boy viewing it all as if for the first time.
Hands pressed tight against the viewport as if to reach out and grasp at the lights themselves, propped up by the arm rest of the plushly functional seat he knelt upright to gain a better view of the partially constructed Star Destroyers that, even though they were months off completion, still bore that ominously imposing and familiar chassis design that made them so iconic.
But it was their sheer gargantuan size that made Kuat’s eyes widen with amazement. He had seen such sights before, of course, but in schematics and the technical plans for such ships and the orbital docks themselves. He had bore witness to vast numbers of the newly constructed vessels looming high above Kuat City when the sky was clear on a sunny day. But never in all few of his years had he travelled to KDY headquarters amid the orbital rigs. He had known, however, this time would come and he was almost anxious to get it over with, the tense coil and flex of his muscles making his body a ball of astriction.
It wasn’t that he did not wish to see these sights, nor was it that he wished not to be here, but his relationship with his father had been typically high class Kuati, until he was of some use, Kuat was little more than a promising, technically minded young heir. Almost as if he were a trinket to be shown off at auspicious occasions until his learning was complete enough that he could also serve some purpose within the company his bloodline had founded so many years ago. Add to this the short amount of orbital leave his father could afford himself, and he was practically a stranger to his son.
And yet, thought Kuat to himself, he was still the one person in life he respected the most.
After adhering to the strict docking procedures in place at KDY, the shuttle docked a few moments later and Kuat was allowed to disembark. Stepping into the vast space beyond the landing ramp, the boy’s wide eyed look soon returned when he took in the bay’s vast spaces, and more importantly, the sheer amount of personnel and similar shuttles residing there. It was easy to look up into the night’s sky and imagine what life must be like in places such as these, seldom setting foot on solid ground so to speak, but to actually be here was quite something else. A severe feat of engineering, the planet’s orbital array comprised of vast networks of construction docks, technical shops, processing plants and even sizable living quarters for those employees permanently stationed upon the array. Kuat could scarcely wait to have the chance to explore all of that, within reason of course. But that nagging worry still firmly embedded in the back of his mind let him know that exploration wasn’t the reason for his being here.
The sound of footfalls, boot heels clicking against the durasteel flooring, up ahead captured the boy’s attention immediately. He looked to his right to see a tall, angular-faced man approaching at a brisk pace, clad smartly in the garb of a KDY security official.
While his rather stoic expression was what he usually wore, as he drew nearer a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he came to a prompt halt a couple of meters before Kuat’s small party of a few.
Nodding once, rather than shaking the boy’s hand or giving any form of salute, the official let his gaze slide from the lad for a brief moment to the telbun accompanying him.
“The CEO has requested that you wait here until his return.” He said.
Giving no response other than a polite bow, Kuat’s caregiver disappeared back into the shuttle as silent as a shadow, leaving the official to take things from here.
When they were alone, the Security official turned his gaze back to Kuat and his smile broadened, the slight imperfections of laughter lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he did so.
“You’ve done a lot of growing since last we met.” He commented with a hint of disbelief, it didn’t seem like a year, nor did it seem possible the boy would have managed to have reached half his own height by now.
“I have been doing a lot of things since last we met.” Kuat replied rather blandly, attention partially drawn to the crew working on repairing another shuttle some meters away, so he had never really heard the man utter the inevitable ‘Is that so?’ so much as he pre-empted it.
“Yes, my tutors believe I will complete and pass my aptitude tests within the next few months.” Kuat explained, but now it was his turn to smile, something he had been taught, was out of place when conversing formally with the ‘staff’ but he had never really liked that particular rule to begin with, he had always felt most at home among the engineering crews and systems that had a more practical hand in Kuat Drive Yards affairs, preferring to don more practical clothing than the sharp, sleek layers of fabric that made up more formal attire - that befitting his status. There was a time and a place for such things, but Kuat had never reserved much love for those kinds of occasions. Somehow, even at this tender age, he had managed to endear himself to many of the crews he had encountered during these visits, learning various things from them, which he hoped to put into practice one day. Of course, his father decreed that he had other plans for his son, but that, too was inevitable, inherent.
“I am certain they will go flawlessly. You’ll do your household proud.” The security official, he hadn’t caught his name, said. “We can talk about them on the way, your father is expecting you.”
The journey to the private quarters of Kaur of Kuat, was a short but educating one, travelling past many of the construction docks Kuat took in as much as he was able, silently congratulating himself when he remembered or pin pointed what many of the construction crews were doing and/ or working on. It would have been too much to ask he could go out there with one such crew, not only was he deemed too young to be out there free floating about in one of those carefully constructed industrial vac suits, but the considerable risk to himself would be one that no employee of Kaur’s would ever dream to take.
But one day, thought Kuat to himself, I will take it upon myself to take such risks.
After all, it had been his father who had instilled in him the importance of knowing every aspect of what their engineers were up to. Perfection could be attained far more expediently, and infiltration or sabotage was quickly picked up upon and quashed.
Standing here, now, though, at the centre point of one of the largest offices many employee had ever had the fortune of gracing, Kuat’s mind couldn’t have been further away from what was going on beyond the feature-point of a sweeping viewport, that spanned the entire back wall of the office and provided a stunning overview of both the world Kuat it’s self, and the final stages of the production line amid the orbital array.
Facing the sprawling viewport, dressed in robes very similar to those that the child wore, hands clasped together at the small of his back, stood Kaur of Kuat. Almost regal in his countenance and poise, he turned to face the two visitors when the sound of the door cycling shut again whispered with the brief exchange of air, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he regarded them.
“That will be all, thank you.” He intoned, and in accordance and compliance with those wishes, the security operative nodded in acknowledgement, then vacated the room again, leaving young Kuat of Kuat to reside under the scrutiny of his only living biological parent.
Unclasping his hands, Kaur’s gaze settled upon his son, expression warm yet impassive, he emanated an air of superior pride in all that stood before him, as with most things he had created, what wasn’t there to admire. His son was no exception to the rule, in his veins ran the blood of his technically minded household, and he had followed well in Kaur’s footsteps. So well, in fact, that he had heard little save for shining reports from his tutors and the telbun charged with his care both.
“It’s good to see you here, Son, I trust you did not give your telbun too much trouble?” He asked, that small hint of a smile still gracing his lips.
The boy nodded, chin jutting proudly on the uptake, mirroring that smile that made them both look so alike, before he responded, “I was studying the standard flux capacitor, but she insisted I come. I would have rather...” He looked down at his feet, eyes somewhat distant and when Kaur studied him, stepping around the large, ornate desk to cross the distance between them both, he could tell that his son was holding back.
Placing a hand upon Kuat’s shoulder, large enough to cover it completely, Kaur crouched down to the boy’s level, unconcerned by the informality of it all, this wasn’t a meeting between the Ten ruling households after all, it was a conversation between an elder and his child, and Kaur himself had never been a fan of formality.
“You would rather that I had been there, I know.” Guilt tinged his words some, but there was little he could do about it, he had felt much the same when his father had not been present for much of his life either, undertaking the duties that had since fallen to him, and would soon fall to Kuat in time.
But there was the small matter of Kaur’s sister, Onara. Discontent with her recall from being director, she had sought to vie for the place that should be his son’s, and would be in time. But her motives were mired too much in politics and the changing of the tides therein for neither Kaur nor the Ten to entrust such things to her again. True to form, even Kuat himself, at this age had openly opposed his aunt’s recommendations to have a Kuati senator recalled from office under the simple reason that he openly opposed the war against the separatists. He was young, but already his father had ensured he be introduced to all Kuati political happenings, it would instil in him the basic lessons that he would need to put into practice when the day came for him to succeed his father. Had Onara been left to her business, Kuat Drive yards might well have been less than independent at present. Another world, another industry swallowed up by the greed of Palpatine and his growing crowd of sycophants, it was a sign of the times, an approaching storm that many could see, but fear kept them silent. People who made waves had a tendency to disappear unexpectedly.
“But now you are here and with good reason I might add. There’s something I want you to see.” Kaur intoned warmly, smiling broadly before he stood up and picked his son up with little effort, settling him on his own broad shoulders and walking towards one of the huge viewports at the far end of the office. From there he gestured widely to the open space and stardocks beyond.
“One day, Kuat, this will be yours to govern. Your decisions will potentially affect the lives of billions, not least among them, the Ten. I want you to be prepared for that, I want you to hold true to the values instilled in me from before I ever set foot aboard this installation.”
The boy gazed out at the construction docks, ignoring the world proper behind them, the huge cranes and gargantuan shapes beginning to take form within their reach, the forms of Star Destroyers the most prominent among them all, the ships that served the republic. It was a sight to most that would be breathtaking, from an engineering point of view, to Kuat, it was awe inspiring, a matter of pure pride, even at this tender age, he understood the levity of that which had secured a world’s wealth for millennia, where innovative designs had won them the crown of being among the galaxies top shipyards, and easily the most wealthy. He was determined to see that legacy carried on. He even had ideas....ideas that might well have been rubbished as little more than the daydreams of a child by his tutors. And perhaps they were, but much had been forged on a dream once, Kuat it’s self, for instance.
“Values that your aunt Onara lost sight of, you must not fall prey to her weaknesses Kuat, ever. If you believe what you are doing is the best thing for Kuat Drive Yards, trust in your instincts, and above all else, keep one eye always on your back.” His father had continued, sounding almost fearful for reasons the boy could not understand, and he could almost feel the tension in the man below him, feel the subject of what had placed so much weight on his father’s shoulders rising to the fore. But it was never spoken of, nor elaborated on. Just another of life’s little things he was going to have to be told when he was old enough to fully grasp the reasons for Kaur’s subterfuge.
“Her weakness came from her ineptitude to conceal her past. I understand.” Kuat muttered, drawing a curious quirk of an eyebrow from his father at just how wise beyond his years his son had become. In a small sense, it saddened him to know that as a direct result of circumstances concerning the nature of his upbringing, his son had been denied the childhood he himself had been allowed to have. While Kuat’s age was the reason his vote against Onara Kuat’s motion to have Giddean Danu, the Senator for Kuat at the time, had been disallowed, he had spoken the mind and reasons of several of his would be peers in an act of what might have been viewed as insolence by several of the elders for the ruling households. Kaur himself could already see a marginal respect forming in others for the opinions and values his son often expressed in conversation. He was certain that where his own reign as director of KDY had been a fairly impromptu and quiet one, his son was going to succeed him beyond expectation, this he knew would be a fact.
“Very astute of you, Kuat. But it was not this factor alone. A pity she did not live to understand the necessity of her successors appointment, and a problem less for my successor when he, too takes up the mantle.” Kaur spared his son a wry smile, sliding the boy a glance that caused the same sly smirk to appear on his features in younger reflection, almost as if they were sharing some private joke. This was not so, rather that they both understood what needed to be done to ensure the independence of their corporation for the future, and in Kaur’s opinion, when the time came for him to step down as CEO, Kuat would be of an age where he could leave KDY in his very capable hands.
“But until that time, you have much more learning to do...no more ignoring your tutors in favour of tinkering with things.”
Kuat, who’s eyes had been enamoured by the sights beyond the viewport until now, turned with mild surprise to look at his father, all wide eyes and innocence, features set in a picture of incredulity that Kaur was never truly going to believe entirely.
With a knowing chuckle he quashed his son’s faux incredulity. “No more defying your telbun when she is attempting to teach you important lessons.”
“She is not my telbun.” Kuat responded haughtily, a stark reminder that the woman who had given him life had indeed died doing just that, giving birth to him.
Kaur sighed stiffly, “Not in blood parentage, no. But that is besides the point. The lessons you learn from her are the same you would learn from your true telbun, and therefore every bit as important.”
The boy couldn’t dispute that, and his father could see that this vexed him somewhat, his mind no doubt working overtime to try and find a counter argument. He had always been somewhat defiant, it was a trait that had shown it’s self prominent in Kaur himself at his age, he had rather hoped that his choice in telbun would have ironed out that particular kink, but supposed in the long run it would give Kuat the tenacity to strive for what was best, if attuned correctly.
“You’re right, as usual.” Kuat admonished reluctantly, his father’s resulting smile infectious enough to transfer to him also, tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Kaur placed his son down on the deck again, letting him stand on his own two feet - after all, he was always complaining he was too old for that now. That might have been so, but a large part of Kaur wanted to keep Kuat young for as long as possible, his own childhood had been a scant one to say the least, overbearing relatives foisting upon him duties that most core world teenagers would have balked at.
Or perhaps seen as a form of cruel and unusual punishment, thought Kaur with a smirk. The realm of corporate marketing was hardly the life he would have wanted for himself or his son. The latter more so, Kuat had a brilliant mind that should be put to the best of uses.
But there was one, small, yet vital, thing Kuat lacked, and that was responsibility. That was about to change.
Turning sharply on one heel, Kaur strode from the main office area, tossing a rather nonchalant comment over his shoulder before disappearing from view into his private workspace.
"I have something for you, Kuat. Something you must promise to take great care of."
The boy took a few tentatively curious steps towards the door, contemplating if he should peer around the side of it's holdings or not, when his father breeze back into the room again, carrying a small non descript bundle in the crook of one arm. At first Kuat thought it was little more than a bundle of obsidian shimmersilk cloth, and puzzled by that he certainly was. But when Kaur drew near he noticed the bundle was making sounds, soft and barely noticeable, but discernibly there.
Then the bundle moved, stirring in the arms of it's bearer and raising a pleasingly linear head with two perfectly formed triangular ears atop of its cranium. It's eyes were bright cobalt blue, akin to the colour of the seas on the world of Kuat, brilliant and alert.
More curious than ever, Kuat stepped forward to get a closer look at the creature whilst his father sank down to be level with the boy. It only took a brief look to see the recognization in the boys eyes.
"A felinx?" He asked not quite understanding his father’s motivations.
Kaur nodded once, careful not to disturb nor startle the creature in his arms.
"That's right, and I want you to take very good care of her, they are very loyal when looked after for correctly. She is your responsibility now." He said.
Kuat's jade green eyes widened slightly, most of his life had been spent in education or tinkering with various devices, he didn't know the first thing about looking after a creature, any creature.
"Here..." He heard his father intone, holding out the felinx, now stretching its lithe forelimbs in his fathers arms, and doing its best to cling to the man's robe sleeve when Kaur attempted to scoop it up with his free hand.
The creature, which had been purring contentedly until now, gave a disgruntled grumble, flexing its sharp claws experimentally before Kuat managed to bundle it up again and have it cradled in his arms in stead. The felinx began to make it's self comfortable, all paws and claws, plumping up the sleeve of Kuat's formal robe as it might have a plush cushion, the sharpened tips penetrating the thick fabric painfully to begin with, rendered stings and needle like puncture wounds forcing the boy to look to his father imploringly. Kaur did not intervene, he merely nodded in gesticulation to the unruly feline.
Then he smiled ruefully.
“You’ll work it out.”
Frowning, though hardly put off, Kuat winced slightly as the creature continued to make it’s self comfortable, and he not so, when he began to try and distract it by helping it in it’s task. Reaching up to it’s angular ears, as he had seen his father do moments before, he began to fuss the creature gently with one hand. The felinx reacted almost instantly, ceasing it’s incessant clawing to a barely noticeable padding, before finally, at last, it began to purr with comfort.
Oddly entranced by the strange little creature, he never saw his father beaming knowingly.
*****
Boom, Boom, Boom...
Closer and closer drew the sounds of destruction, the oppressive heat now nearly unbearable, burning his lungs with every laboured breath he took. The sounds akin to an executioners drum would have struck fear into the hearts of most, but Kuat of Kuat was not afraid. This was an end of his choosing, few had that luxury and he was grateful.
Leaning protectively over the felinx - a perfect clone of it’s predecessors - he sought to calm it and hide it from the approaching inevitability.
Just two more explosive charges to go and he would cease to be.
It was beauty in simplicity, thought Kuat. So simple a thing could cleanse all as if it had never been there to begin with, just as he, too, would be as the facility his ancestors had forged a world beyond. Little more than ash strewn among the stars.
Title: Beauty In Simplicity
Characters: Kuat of Kuat
Rating: PG
Fic beneath the cut to save screen space, enjoy!
The following happens before and during the events of BHW 3: Hard Merchandise
Beauty In Simplicity
The great structure creaked and groaned loudly under the heat and strain of warping struts and supports. The lights, illuminating the ring corridor of the service rig, blinking out and showering sparks like stars that had been extinguished one by one in the grip some ruthless, invisible hand.
With each light that winked out of existence, each second that passed, the encroaching darkness drew ever closer, reaching out to the lone figure of a man with its cold sinuous fingers to enshroud him as he sat silently upon a small pile of resource crates.
To let him know that along with the death of light, his own end would not be far behind.
In his lap, curled up, fearful and trembling, lay the one loyal creature that had been with him from start to finish. Quietly he stroked the creature’s silken fur, finding solace in the fact that at least he would have one true friend with him at the end, bitter that it had to be done this way, that it had to have been he who took this step. But truly, what other choice did he have left to him?
None - death whispered to him, seductively, from beyond the darkness, explosions rocking the construction docks, growing ominously close as a reminder. It would soon all be over and for that he was relieved.
“Shhh,” He whispered soothingly to the troubled felinx cradled in his arms, fingers stroking the pressure synapses behind it’s sharply angular and pointed ears, “It won’t be long now.”
*****
“Young master, would you please get down from there! Your father gave me strict instructions to prepare you for this journey and stipulated, adamantly I might add, that you should not be late. I cannot very well do that when you insist on being distracted by fluxi-whatever you call one of those devices.”
The child of approximately eight years of age, dressed in a swathe of sharply designed fabric of gold and deep blue that made up his ornate robes, stared dispassionately at the source of the exasperated voice - a rare sight of a female telbun, clad in the overbearing stuffy robes and heavy, tall cylindrical hat that signified their station in life. In the child’s hands, dismantled remnants of mechanical parts leaving his palms blackened in places by the dirt and oil that kept the device’s servos lubricated.
“You’re hands are filthy, you’re going to get dirt all over your robes, he’s going to be most displeased with you...” The nagging continued, and although he was quite within his rights to dismiss her, for she was not any part of his noble bloodline, nor was he she even so in part, she had been charged with ensuring he get to where he need be this day, and under the authority of his father whom he could not afford to disobey. It was that fact that kept him from rebuking her.
Sitting atop a large workbench, more accustomed to seeing heavy engine construction than it’s current occupant resting upon it’s surfaces, the child who’s name was something of an identity and title in the making, turned away his emerald gaze and fixed it upon the mass of parts strewn across the bench, mentally recalling where each one had been, what was broken and what could still be salvaged. A pet project of sorts, something he had had a fascination with for as long as his young mind could remember, the careful mechanics of how each machine was put together, what each part did to make the next work, and more appropriately, how he could make it better. A technical mind was nothing new to his family, it was a trait that ran strong in his bloodline, where other members of the ruling households of Kuat had become diluted and tainted over the years, his bloodline had remained the one, true constant that kept their world affluent. It kept them strong.
Just as he, himself, was strong in will and perhaps a margin stubborn.
Evidently, he was not the only one who was aware of this as the telbun, unto whom his father had entrusted with his son’s care, hadn’t thought better to leave him to his task.
Unlike most children born to the noble households, Kuat of Kuat’s upbringing had been a rather unorthodox one by fate’s choice alone. His mother, whom he would never recognize socially as such, had been as society dictated, his father’s telbun, a middle class breeder chosen for her adept skill and intellect to perpetuate the Kuat bloodline. That in it’s self was not the reason for this unfortunate state of affairs, rather that she had died giving birth to him, resulting in his care becoming the responsibility of those elite members of his own household, often palming him off onto their own staff or telbuns themselves. But despite the odds, he had turned out to be one of the sharper minded ones among them, always keen, never dull and fiercely independent.
Just so, he might have thought, as he was exercising that independence right now.
“Flux capacitor.” He responded, the first words he had spoken since the beginning of this engagement, “It’s called a flux capacitor.”
The telbun, face as impassively emotionless as ever, did not comment.
Wearily, he looked between the object of his prior attention and the female requesting that he move himself quite promptly.
He could always refuse.
But in doing that he knew that she was not lying when she had stated that his father would be most displeased with him. His attendance was seldom requested off world, and never during his fathers working hours. Whatever the reason for this impromptu meeting, it had to be something important.
Kuat loosed a theatrical sigh, shoulders slumping in that dramatical way all kids seemed to possess when asked to put down what they were currently enjoying and do some mundane chore for their parent.
Uncrossing his legs and scooting from his comfortable position atop the workbench, he swung his legs over the side and dropped down firmly on his feet, taking great care not to brush the formal robes, he had been requested to wear this day, with his mucky hands.
Slowly, if not meekly then at least not haughtily, he turned his green eyed gaze upward, meeting that of his caregiver, in time to see the woman give a slow nod approvingly.
“Come, it wouldn’t do for you to be late.”
*****
The lights of the orbital construction docks glittered and shone as brightly as any star, all of them pin pricks of argent brilliance that cast glassy reflections in the tinted transparisteel of the private KDY shuttle and indeed the eyes of the boy viewing it all as if for the first time.
Hands pressed tight against the viewport as if to reach out and grasp at the lights themselves, propped up by the arm rest of the plushly functional seat he knelt upright to gain a better view of the partially constructed Star Destroyers that, even though they were months off completion, still bore that ominously imposing and familiar chassis design that made them so iconic.
But it was their sheer gargantuan size that made Kuat’s eyes widen with amazement. He had seen such sights before, of course, but in schematics and the technical plans for such ships and the orbital docks themselves. He had bore witness to vast numbers of the newly constructed vessels looming high above Kuat City when the sky was clear on a sunny day. But never in all few of his years had he travelled to KDY headquarters amid the orbital rigs. He had known, however, this time would come and he was almost anxious to get it over with, the tense coil and flex of his muscles making his body a ball of astriction.
It wasn’t that he did not wish to see these sights, nor was it that he wished not to be here, but his relationship with his father had been typically high class Kuati, until he was of some use, Kuat was little more than a promising, technically minded young heir. Almost as if he were a trinket to be shown off at auspicious occasions until his learning was complete enough that he could also serve some purpose within the company his bloodline had founded so many years ago. Add to this the short amount of orbital leave his father could afford himself, and he was practically a stranger to his son.
And yet, thought Kuat to himself, he was still the one person in life he respected the most.
After adhering to the strict docking procedures in place at KDY, the shuttle docked a few moments later and Kuat was allowed to disembark. Stepping into the vast space beyond the landing ramp, the boy’s wide eyed look soon returned when he took in the bay’s vast spaces, and more importantly, the sheer amount of personnel and similar shuttles residing there. It was easy to look up into the night’s sky and imagine what life must be like in places such as these, seldom setting foot on solid ground so to speak, but to actually be here was quite something else. A severe feat of engineering, the planet’s orbital array comprised of vast networks of construction docks, technical shops, processing plants and even sizable living quarters for those employees permanently stationed upon the array. Kuat could scarcely wait to have the chance to explore all of that, within reason of course. But that nagging worry still firmly embedded in the back of his mind let him know that exploration wasn’t the reason for his being here.
The sound of footfalls, boot heels clicking against the durasteel flooring, up ahead captured the boy’s attention immediately. He looked to his right to see a tall, angular-faced man approaching at a brisk pace, clad smartly in the garb of a KDY security official.
While his rather stoic expression was what he usually wore, as he drew nearer a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he came to a prompt halt a couple of meters before Kuat’s small party of a few.
Nodding once, rather than shaking the boy’s hand or giving any form of salute, the official let his gaze slide from the lad for a brief moment to the telbun accompanying him.
“The CEO has requested that you wait here until his return.” He said.
Giving no response other than a polite bow, Kuat’s caregiver disappeared back into the shuttle as silent as a shadow, leaving the official to take things from here.
When they were alone, the Security official turned his gaze back to Kuat and his smile broadened, the slight imperfections of laughter lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he did so.
“You’ve done a lot of growing since last we met.” He commented with a hint of disbelief, it didn’t seem like a year, nor did it seem possible the boy would have managed to have reached half his own height by now.
“I have been doing a lot of things since last we met.” Kuat replied rather blandly, attention partially drawn to the crew working on repairing another shuttle some meters away, so he had never really heard the man utter the inevitable ‘Is that so?’ so much as he pre-empted it.
“Yes, my tutors believe I will complete and pass my aptitude tests within the next few months.” Kuat explained, but now it was his turn to smile, something he had been taught, was out of place when conversing formally with the ‘staff’ but he had never really liked that particular rule to begin with, he had always felt most at home among the engineering crews and systems that had a more practical hand in Kuat Drive Yards affairs, preferring to don more practical clothing than the sharp, sleek layers of fabric that made up more formal attire - that befitting his status. There was a time and a place for such things, but Kuat had never reserved much love for those kinds of occasions. Somehow, even at this tender age, he had managed to endear himself to many of the crews he had encountered during these visits, learning various things from them, which he hoped to put into practice one day. Of course, his father decreed that he had other plans for his son, but that, too was inevitable, inherent.
“I am certain they will go flawlessly. You’ll do your household proud.” The security official, he hadn’t caught his name, said. “We can talk about them on the way, your father is expecting you.”
The journey to the private quarters of Kaur of Kuat, was a short but educating one, travelling past many of the construction docks Kuat took in as much as he was able, silently congratulating himself when he remembered or pin pointed what many of the construction crews were doing and/ or working on. It would have been too much to ask he could go out there with one such crew, not only was he deemed too young to be out there free floating about in one of those carefully constructed industrial vac suits, but the considerable risk to himself would be one that no employee of Kaur’s would ever dream to take.
But one day, thought Kuat to himself, I will take it upon myself to take such risks.
After all, it had been his father who had instilled in him the importance of knowing every aspect of what their engineers were up to. Perfection could be attained far more expediently, and infiltration or sabotage was quickly picked up upon and quashed.
Standing here, now, though, at the centre point of one of the largest offices many employee had ever had the fortune of gracing, Kuat’s mind couldn’t have been further away from what was going on beyond the feature-point of a sweeping viewport, that spanned the entire back wall of the office and provided a stunning overview of both the world Kuat it’s self, and the final stages of the production line amid the orbital array.
Facing the sprawling viewport, dressed in robes very similar to those that the child wore, hands clasped together at the small of his back, stood Kaur of Kuat. Almost regal in his countenance and poise, he turned to face the two visitors when the sound of the door cycling shut again whispered with the brief exchange of air, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he regarded them.
“That will be all, thank you.” He intoned, and in accordance and compliance with those wishes, the security operative nodded in acknowledgement, then vacated the room again, leaving young Kuat of Kuat to reside under the scrutiny of his only living biological parent.
Unclasping his hands, Kaur’s gaze settled upon his son, expression warm yet impassive, he emanated an air of superior pride in all that stood before him, as with most things he had created, what wasn’t there to admire. His son was no exception to the rule, in his veins ran the blood of his technically minded household, and he had followed well in Kaur’s footsteps. So well, in fact, that he had heard little save for shining reports from his tutors and the telbun charged with his care both.
“It’s good to see you here, Son, I trust you did not give your telbun too much trouble?” He asked, that small hint of a smile still gracing his lips.
The boy nodded, chin jutting proudly on the uptake, mirroring that smile that made them both look so alike, before he responded, “I was studying the standard flux capacitor, but she insisted I come. I would have rather...” He looked down at his feet, eyes somewhat distant and when Kaur studied him, stepping around the large, ornate desk to cross the distance between them both, he could tell that his son was holding back.
Placing a hand upon Kuat’s shoulder, large enough to cover it completely, Kaur crouched down to the boy’s level, unconcerned by the informality of it all, this wasn’t a meeting between the Ten ruling households after all, it was a conversation between an elder and his child, and Kaur himself had never been a fan of formality.
“You would rather that I had been there, I know.” Guilt tinged his words some, but there was little he could do about it, he had felt much the same when his father had not been present for much of his life either, undertaking the duties that had since fallen to him, and would soon fall to Kuat in time.
But there was the small matter of Kaur’s sister, Onara. Discontent with her recall from being director, she had sought to vie for the place that should be his son’s, and would be in time. But her motives were mired too much in politics and the changing of the tides therein for neither Kaur nor the Ten to entrust such things to her again. True to form, even Kuat himself, at this age had openly opposed his aunt’s recommendations to have a Kuati senator recalled from office under the simple reason that he openly opposed the war against the separatists. He was young, but already his father had ensured he be introduced to all Kuati political happenings, it would instil in him the basic lessons that he would need to put into practice when the day came for him to succeed his father. Had Onara been left to her business, Kuat Drive yards might well have been less than independent at present. Another world, another industry swallowed up by the greed of Palpatine and his growing crowd of sycophants, it was a sign of the times, an approaching storm that many could see, but fear kept them silent. People who made waves had a tendency to disappear unexpectedly.
“But now you are here and with good reason I might add. There’s something I want you to see.” Kaur intoned warmly, smiling broadly before he stood up and picked his son up with little effort, settling him on his own broad shoulders and walking towards one of the huge viewports at the far end of the office. From there he gestured widely to the open space and stardocks beyond.
“One day, Kuat, this will be yours to govern. Your decisions will potentially affect the lives of billions, not least among them, the Ten. I want you to be prepared for that, I want you to hold true to the values instilled in me from before I ever set foot aboard this installation.”
The boy gazed out at the construction docks, ignoring the world proper behind them, the huge cranes and gargantuan shapes beginning to take form within their reach, the forms of Star Destroyers the most prominent among them all, the ships that served the republic. It was a sight to most that would be breathtaking, from an engineering point of view, to Kuat, it was awe inspiring, a matter of pure pride, even at this tender age, he understood the levity of that which had secured a world’s wealth for millennia, where innovative designs had won them the crown of being among the galaxies top shipyards, and easily the most wealthy. He was determined to see that legacy carried on. He even had ideas....ideas that might well have been rubbished as little more than the daydreams of a child by his tutors. And perhaps they were, but much had been forged on a dream once, Kuat it’s self, for instance.
“Values that your aunt Onara lost sight of, you must not fall prey to her weaknesses Kuat, ever. If you believe what you are doing is the best thing for Kuat Drive Yards, trust in your instincts, and above all else, keep one eye always on your back.” His father had continued, sounding almost fearful for reasons the boy could not understand, and he could almost feel the tension in the man below him, feel the subject of what had placed so much weight on his father’s shoulders rising to the fore. But it was never spoken of, nor elaborated on. Just another of life’s little things he was going to have to be told when he was old enough to fully grasp the reasons for Kaur’s subterfuge.
“Her weakness came from her ineptitude to conceal her past. I understand.” Kuat muttered, drawing a curious quirk of an eyebrow from his father at just how wise beyond his years his son had become. In a small sense, it saddened him to know that as a direct result of circumstances concerning the nature of his upbringing, his son had been denied the childhood he himself had been allowed to have. While Kuat’s age was the reason his vote against Onara Kuat’s motion to have Giddean Danu, the Senator for Kuat at the time, had been disallowed, he had spoken the mind and reasons of several of his would be peers in an act of what might have been viewed as insolence by several of the elders for the ruling households. Kaur himself could already see a marginal respect forming in others for the opinions and values his son often expressed in conversation. He was certain that where his own reign as director of KDY had been a fairly impromptu and quiet one, his son was going to succeed him beyond expectation, this he knew would be a fact.
“Very astute of you, Kuat. But it was not this factor alone. A pity she did not live to understand the necessity of her successors appointment, and a problem less for my successor when he, too takes up the mantle.” Kaur spared his son a wry smile, sliding the boy a glance that caused the same sly smirk to appear on his features in younger reflection, almost as if they were sharing some private joke. This was not so, rather that they both understood what needed to be done to ensure the independence of their corporation for the future, and in Kaur’s opinion, when the time came for him to step down as CEO, Kuat would be of an age where he could leave KDY in his very capable hands.
“But until that time, you have much more learning to do...no more ignoring your tutors in favour of tinkering with things.”
Kuat, who’s eyes had been enamoured by the sights beyond the viewport until now, turned with mild surprise to look at his father, all wide eyes and innocence, features set in a picture of incredulity that Kaur was never truly going to believe entirely.
With a knowing chuckle he quashed his son’s faux incredulity. “No more defying your telbun when she is attempting to teach you important lessons.”
“She is not my telbun.” Kuat responded haughtily, a stark reminder that the woman who had given him life had indeed died doing just that, giving birth to him.
Kaur sighed stiffly, “Not in blood parentage, no. But that is besides the point. The lessons you learn from her are the same you would learn from your true telbun, and therefore every bit as important.”
The boy couldn’t dispute that, and his father could see that this vexed him somewhat, his mind no doubt working overtime to try and find a counter argument. He had always been somewhat defiant, it was a trait that had shown it’s self prominent in Kaur himself at his age, he had rather hoped that his choice in telbun would have ironed out that particular kink, but supposed in the long run it would give Kuat the tenacity to strive for what was best, if attuned correctly.
“You’re right, as usual.” Kuat admonished reluctantly, his father’s resulting smile infectious enough to transfer to him also, tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Kaur placed his son down on the deck again, letting him stand on his own two feet - after all, he was always complaining he was too old for that now. That might have been so, but a large part of Kaur wanted to keep Kuat young for as long as possible, his own childhood had been a scant one to say the least, overbearing relatives foisting upon him duties that most core world teenagers would have balked at.
Or perhaps seen as a form of cruel and unusual punishment, thought Kaur with a smirk. The realm of corporate marketing was hardly the life he would have wanted for himself or his son. The latter more so, Kuat had a brilliant mind that should be put to the best of uses.
But there was one, small, yet vital, thing Kuat lacked, and that was responsibility. That was about to change.
Turning sharply on one heel, Kaur strode from the main office area, tossing a rather nonchalant comment over his shoulder before disappearing from view into his private workspace.
"I have something for you, Kuat. Something you must promise to take great care of."
The boy took a few tentatively curious steps towards the door, contemplating if he should peer around the side of it's holdings or not, when his father breeze back into the room again, carrying a small non descript bundle in the crook of one arm. At first Kuat thought it was little more than a bundle of obsidian shimmersilk cloth, and puzzled by that he certainly was. But when Kaur drew near he noticed the bundle was making sounds, soft and barely noticeable, but discernibly there.
Then the bundle moved, stirring in the arms of it's bearer and raising a pleasingly linear head with two perfectly formed triangular ears atop of its cranium. It's eyes were bright cobalt blue, akin to the colour of the seas on the world of Kuat, brilliant and alert.
More curious than ever, Kuat stepped forward to get a closer look at the creature whilst his father sank down to be level with the boy. It only took a brief look to see the recognization in the boys eyes.
"A felinx?" He asked not quite understanding his father’s motivations.
Kaur nodded once, careful not to disturb nor startle the creature in his arms.
"That's right, and I want you to take very good care of her, they are very loyal when looked after for correctly. She is your responsibility now." He said.
Kuat's jade green eyes widened slightly, most of his life had been spent in education or tinkering with various devices, he didn't know the first thing about looking after a creature, any creature.
"Here..." He heard his father intone, holding out the felinx, now stretching its lithe forelimbs in his fathers arms, and doing its best to cling to the man's robe sleeve when Kaur attempted to scoop it up with his free hand.
The creature, which had been purring contentedly until now, gave a disgruntled grumble, flexing its sharp claws experimentally before Kuat managed to bundle it up again and have it cradled in his arms in stead. The felinx began to make it's self comfortable, all paws and claws, plumping up the sleeve of Kuat's formal robe as it might have a plush cushion, the sharpened tips penetrating the thick fabric painfully to begin with, rendered stings and needle like puncture wounds forcing the boy to look to his father imploringly. Kaur did not intervene, he merely nodded in gesticulation to the unruly feline.
Then he smiled ruefully.
“You’ll work it out.”
Frowning, though hardly put off, Kuat winced slightly as the creature continued to make it’s self comfortable, and he not so, when he began to try and distract it by helping it in it’s task. Reaching up to it’s angular ears, as he had seen his father do moments before, he began to fuss the creature gently with one hand. The felinx reacted almost instantly, ceasing it’s incessant clawing to a barely noticeable padding, before finally, at last, it began to purr with comfort.
Oddly entranced by the strange little creature, he never saw his father beaming knowingly.
*****
Boom, Boom, Boom...
Closer and closer drew the sounds of destruction, the oppressive heat now nearly unbearable, burning his lungs with every laboured breath he took. The sounds akin to an executioners drum would have struck fear into the hearts of most, but Kuat of Kuat was not afraid. This was an end of his choosing, few had that luxury and he was grateful.
Leaning protectively over the felinx - a perfect clone of it’s predecessors - he sought to calm it and hide it from the approaching inevitability.
Just two more explosive charges to go and he would cease to be.
It was beauty in simplicity, thought Kuat. So simple a thing could cleanse all as if it had never been there to begin with, just as he, too, would be as the facility his ancestors had forged a world beyond. Little more than ash strewn among the stars.