( act two ⎯ lurking threats )
attack of the clones ✶ 22 BBY ✶ 5 Era V

     Naboo was a tiny planet. Almost too much. The entirety of it consisted of a single biome, ups and downs here and there, but united more as a gigantic country than a world in the eyes of a girl native to a planet more than a hundred times the volume of this one. It was pretty, cozy and picturesque; The great lakes and rivers reminded her of Eridania. There, life was simple and peaceful. A place so hard to hate that she wished all the pain and resentment hadn't painted her stay in shades of blue. Caliginous skies and the smell of her own dudgeon seeping through her window in the form of morning mists, a reminder she was ever the shameful presence amongst their siblings' home walls.

     In attempt to control the worsening relation between his children, her father had tried to assure her that her stance on Naboo did not have to differ from their humanitarian expeditions around the galaxy, but how could she ever believe him when he had not even tried to advocate for her stay? When the sister who had once strived to bridge the chasm Atheia had left in her life had not even dared to lock her eyes (equally as amber but crystalline in grief and rebuff) with hers as she boarded the starship that would take her away to exile; And how once there, Adnéat had dropped her off in a stranger's doorstep to ride towards the rust dawn with his girlfriend did nothing to make her fond of the so-called paradise planet. In her life, its existence could only symbolize neglect.

     She had nothing to complain about, but much to lament: Solaria had cast her out of the only home she knew, shuting her the doors of every residence without compassion in spite of her rights to live guarded by all of them as their mother's daughter ⎯ as her sister; She had first locked her up without justification to later prohibit her from stepping on her own homeland simply because she felt like it. It was not fair.

     (How could life feel so cold with so many people surrounding her? She wonders if Zyairé ever felt abandoned as well.)

     At least the mornings under the sun of Theed were always better than waking up surrounded by the somer in the Vault's brick walls. The city was quaint but never as welcoming and dazzling as Arus, in her ⎯ very much biased ⎯ opinion, three years behind stone walls had made her truly appreciate the beauty brought by its endless amethyst sky. Though of course, sneaking through the walls of a lonely mansion whose warden were an old man and his nurse was eternally easier than slinking through the gloomy passageways that took her from the Citadel straight to the Attaran capital, it still lacked its homeliness and vibrancy.

     Three years and her exile had finally come to a close.

     In the capital of the Galactic Republic, the growing discord was more than evident ⎯ not only because of the subtle, cold guerillas between classes and levels ⎯ but also thanks to the internal disagreements of their Senate when of separatist organizations the talk was about. The Confederacy of Independent Systems had proven to be a menacing threat escalating at a worrisome rate, the fear they daunted in thousands could almost be felt in the air, and although she had barely bothered to glance at the edict Padmé had handed the Prime Minister for him to give to her, Zeisan couldn't imagine that the speech of encouragement (Viserra's ⎯ her political advisor ⎯ words) she had been requested to cough up hours before the vote ceremony would be anything more than whatever she hadn't already done at the Embassy. E​ither way she knew she wouldn't be allowed to write it on her own fist and hand, and she wasn't particularly interested in giving the situation any more thought beyond the in-depht read through she had already given it months ago before this. Not like it mattered anyway, the one who would actually be doing the voting would be Konsus, not her.

     Zeisan felt like she had aged another three years by the time they landed on Coruscant. She casted a quick glance at the lone sun glistening in the center of the azure ⎯ a blazing star at the height of its glory ⎯ barely even visible beneath the smog coming from the heart of Coruscant and all its heaped skyscrapers that stretched out like fingers striving to touch it; The stark opposite of her home planet.

     Inside the speeder, swiftly cutting through the fogs in the upper level and swimming through its eternally restless traffic on its way to 500 Republica, Zeisan sat as far to Sulan's right as were possible, her body crushed towards the vehicle's door and her face falling heavily into the warm palm of her hand; Broken murmurs could barely be heard as they blew under the tenta's breath, the only thing that could be heard over the heavy silence that compressed the cabin, her tongue clicked as she spoke words that were only meant for herself to hear, unaware (or ignorant) of the way the needle pricked the skin of her fingers as it slid across the fabric: "From a stellar cut an angel falls; Blood taints red the light and from the dragon's scales a shadow weaves his new flesh." 'Blah, blah, blah' in the representative's ears.

     Every three tics she worriedly asked her to sit away from the door, and every time Zeisan ignored her, dismissing Sulan's requests as nothing but her heightened paranoias by the violent change of atmosphere.

     Her eyes, tired and indifferent, scanned the list of all the senators and planets of the known Republic flashing from the holoscreen her abedella bar had conjured from its third pearl; White and cobalt burned the glyphs of their names ⎯ Separatists, Loyalists, and Neutrals. Pausing briefly on her name and Kas Attara's on the list of the latter ⎯ into her golden irises. She could barely finish registering all the names between the ease with which they slid into nonexistence, the words crumbling and rebuilding themselves with the same ease with which Celestéa and Artemisia painted the sky with unique patterns as they danced across its length; Flying past like day and night in a flash.

     In front of Sulan sat Adnéat, knee to knee to each other, watching the city slipping out of view at the speed of the vehicle ⎯ whirlwinds of violets and copper displaying themselves behind the glass like dots on an oil painting ⎯ spread on the seat he had to himself. He was still uptight, motionless in his stress and worry, all visible through the hazel of his eyes yet he was firm in his annoyance and need for perseverance; Displaying himself almost like any of the sad, dull buildings standing on the lower levels, tasked with holding an entire world on its foundations without receiving due recognition. 

Zeisan straightened in her seat, turning off her screen before glancing at her as subtly as she could. The tension as thick as a qoghaer'i's rough skin, slithering imperceptibly until it was too late to react. She let her palms fall on top the rough fabric of her skirt, her fingertips fiddling with the intricate designs stitched into it nervously, long since she gave up hoping Sulan would do anything to dissipate the tension. Her heart raced and she swallowed her words before letting them away to make sure they did so without any embarrassing cuts.

"Please do not be angry at me." Her plead no more than a murmur.

     Adnéat let out a sigh, almost inaudible, settling his back appropriately against the back of the couch in gratitude, in a way (as if he had been waiting for someone else to speak so he could do so) before returning his gaze towards his sister. "I am not angry," he said. "Thoroughly disappointed by your behavior, surely."

"Well, you look mad." She grumbled to herself.

"What will you have me do?" He beckoned, his voice increasing in volume. "Applaud you?"

     "I apologize for my comportment earlier, truly I do." The tremors in her voice became increasingly difficult to hide. Few auburn strands of hair escaping from her crown of braids, delicately brushing her eyelashes. "But if my words were a source of discontent then I am sorry you feel that way, because on them, I hold no regrets."

     "I anticipated more awareness on your part." Adnéat let the side of his head fall on his knuckles, the sleeve of his pearlescent suit nearly melting into the cream-colored leather of the seat. "They were hardly appropriate for a matter this serious."

     Zeisan snicked her tongue. "You cannot possibly have expected me to⎯"

     "I expected you to be unbiased and follow the script you were given as intended. Not to wreck the Alliance's veracity by having you dump all your frustrations on the Senate in the name of a theory." He cut in firmly. Zeisan's expression faltered as she turned her gaze away from his judgment.

     The lack of professionalism looked dreadfully unpleasant on Zeisan's delicate features. None of her siblings had or could accompany her to the actual hearing, but Adnéat had taken it upon himself to oversee the neutral-natured transcript Lady Najaleios had been kind enough to compose for the occasion; He'd seen Zeisan hold the card between her hands through the private broadcast just as he saw her dispose of it without remorse from her platform, letting it disappear somewhere among the miles of crates that made up the building against her better judgment.

The Yshtar'i, for the most part, were meant to be a diplomatic scouting of clans, peaceful explorers, but just how Zeisan was a R'yvnia to her very core: Iron Fists, an impenetrable shrewdness and a defiance that knew no limits. He had naively ignored the voice in his head that warned him that she would end up letting his personal opinions cloud his judgment as far as the neutrality of Kas Attara ⎯ fervently maintained by the Queen ⎯ was concerned and that she would've never remained silent in the face of the accusations that Senator had hurled against the Alliance.

     Not only had she taken sides when she wasn't supposed to, she had, albeit indirectly, insulted those who opposed her.

     The Senate had taken mere tics to erupt with protests and chattering that went against her indolence, too many arguments without direction booming all at once. Her annoyance had been rooted in many factors: No one was looking to take her words seriously ⎯ whether they came from Viserra or not; They had had the audacity to act as if they knew more about her own culture and homeworld than she did herself on the argument brought by her young age; They assumed she was nothing past a foolish and dense child, instead of a woman who had studied more than adequately just like each one of the idiots hovering around and staring her down with shunning eyes, she dared even to say that she was smarter than many of them ⎯ more capable, without a doubt; But what infuriated her above all, what she saw as blatant ignorance. That had been what brought her guts into a burning despair she could only describe as a sickness flooding over her blood. She hoped that her insolent protest in favor of the Military Creation Act had caused a shiver to run through the Senate's backbone and help open their eyes.

     Her heart pounded in her stomach as the feeling came over her all over again. She recalled her anger and let it reinforce her resolution. "It is not a theory." She spat, almost mockingly. "Slavers have spent millennia slaughtering and leeching off innocents in the Outer Rim, many of them children may I add, and the Republic has done nothing short of turning a blind eye. And now they care to talk about a 'United Galaxy', they only care for terrorists and tyrants when their power over them is at stake." She made her point with barely suppressable indignation, finally managing to control the cadence and modulation of her voice. Every muscle in her body was defensive, rigid and indolent. The same posture she had taken earlier in the Senate. "Our purpose is to help. To find sisterhoods beyond species and frontiers, in search for freedom. The Alliance will not stand for⎯" the word hypocrisy was left hanging in the air as Adnéat interrupted her rant.

     "You are not the Alliance."

     "I am their voice in this matter. Do you need a reminder on who was the defector to appoint me to this job, brother?" she laced her words with venom in a way she'd only heard Arwen use before. Granted, the 'insult' was nothing beyond facts, either way she hoped it stung as she'd intended it to. "You may want to be their darling, but I will not sit idly by as those arrogant assholes make a travesty of my averments."

     "I am not as opposed to your beliefs as you may think. I only worry about the stability of your position. You cannot allow your emotions to keep taking over your actions in this manner." Adnéat confessed. No stranger to the way her pride always found a way to skulk into her prudence, though he had believed she would have grown to adapt to what her audience suited by this time in her life. Sulan once again complained to Zeisan about her proximity to the speeder's door, both of her siblings ignoring her. "We are not your enemies, you cannot continue considering us such. Not all Senate members share the vicious tendencies you say."

     She avoided his eye contact several tics, her lips tight in a fine line as her features wrinkled in a frown. "Out of a thousand I can name you three."

     Somewhat baffled, Adnéat repositioned himself in attempt to get closer to his younger sister, ⎯ Sulan, too immersed in her hobby, was only stirred by the present discussion when the movement of her arm was about to knock over her embroidery cloth ⎯ his annoyance now reflected only as deep confusion. Frustration.

"Have you ever stopped to think of how this makes uncle look? Of Padmé?" his inquiry made with stilted ease. "She has been the one to so graciously amend all the damages you yourself have repeatedly cost your reputation. Our reputation."

     "And I am profoundly grateful⎯"

     "Then act like you are. Stand by her, not against." He countered sternly, arching his brows.

     Zeisan couldn't agree to act as he asked. "I would be lying." Padmé would much more appreciate truthfulness even if it came at her cause's expense. She loved her dearly, admired with zeal her passion for her fight, but Zeisan also believed her a fool for her belief in the 'resolute power of diplomacy'.

Army or not, war was inevitable, and though she lacked the kind of influence to manipulate whatever the Senate's final decision turned out to be, Zeisan knew: If the bloodlust of both causes managed to successfully infect the metal walls of their politics, soon it would not be Pladýn alone coiling around their high-necks to stifle their smattering good intentions to death, and she believed that, beneath his veil of propriety, Adnéat did as well. But after all, the one who owed stalwart loyalty to Padmé was him, as her fiance, not her.

"I swore not to lie. They trust me to speak with genuinity." Who 'they' were was crystal clear to both of them without the need for any kind of proper clarification. Her priority above them all: The Yshtar'i people.

     "Well then," Adnéat let out a tired sigh, finally giving up on trying to change his younger sister's ways for the time being. "I doubt your little stunt hasn't yet reached Padmé's ears. I'll see you apologize to her personally as soon as she lands." He slouched away from her again, his thoughtful silence an impediment to her continuing to protest against him. "You are still young and inexperienced. Keep learning and you will see how these assumptions of yours vanish."

     She didn't bother to respond to his comment (which in her opinion was laughably absurd) before rolling her eyes, declaring the end of their conversation without the need for another word and agreeing to submit herself to another boring trip immersed in silence.

For Adnéat, this fiasco was a true shame; All his efforts had gone to waste and he was well aware he could not raise any complaints despite both his experience as a former representative and his reputation as a distinguished graduate of the capital's prestigious University, were well recognized by the nobles of the Republic (who even wished the young woman to abandon their politics so that her brother could take her seat again), his desertion of the position after formalizing her engagement with the Nabooian Senator was terribly frowned upon by his people and the allied clans. His own family included.

     Zeisan turned her device back on, this time setting it up to a random news feed of the holonet rather than the list Konsus had given her. On the other side of her seat, Sulan dropped her embroidery frame onto the skirt of her uniform and wedged her pin between the red mouliné in airy movements; Zeisan tried to ignore Sulan's grim, ghastly stare monitoring her actions as was usual, merely returning it out of the corner of her eye, until she reached out to lower the volume of the transmission.

     "If you look to continue with the chiding, do all of us a favor and ch⎯"

     "I was looking to defend you." Sulan explained softly, a rare honey-sweet smile parting her face. "You act irrationally and below your years. You are allowing them to keep laughing at your inexperience with your arrogance."

     "'Defend me', you said?"

     "But Adnéat is a fool by advising you to desist from your ideals so aggressively." Briefly confused by her sister's reaction, Sulan explained further. "Stand for what you believe, aodorȳ. See how it ended up for me."

Zeisan didn't know if her final comment had been in favor of her or Adnéat, because if standing firm in her tenets and beliefs would have her end up just like her older sister, then she was willing to betray them in haste. She couldn't help but wonder if her peers also thought of her as a lunatic, constantly spewing nonsense.

"You should join me in prayer later this evening, you'll see your tensions nursed shortly thereafter. Now, pull apart from the door."

      Zeisan tensed up, her fingers curling tightly into her palms, nails stabbing her skin as the anger returned, and refused to move an inch. "I am not⎯"

The holographic light displayed on the activating crystal was destroyed and reconstructed thanks to the sudden shaking of their speeder as it came to a sudden halt. The three of them focused on trying to find whatever originated the brief disturbance, looking up to the roof and out of the windows.

"Pull apart." Sulan hurried, desperation shrieking beneath her petition.

     ". . . A bomb was found to have been installed in the base of the Royal Naboo Starship in what local police forces believe an assassination attempt against the planet's Senator and former Queen: Padmé Amidala." The journalist announced.

     Before anyone could even process the news, their speeder began to plunge towards the lower streets, the tabloid completely shattering as the vehicle's power went out. Sulan hugged her knees and covered her ears with her palms, Adnéat curled around her as a human shield on instinct while Zeisan held on tightly to the door's handle so as not to slip down on and crush her sister; Neither of them could believe that they hadn't yet collided with any other speeder when the vehicle seemed to stabilize itself for a second, jerking them roughly in opposite directions. Zeisan collided roughly on her bicep, the creaking of her bones and the sting an indicator she had twisted her limb.

     Adnéat stretched out a trembling arm, but before he could bring Zeisan beneath his protective embrace, a stranger's arm ripped the door she was holding onto with such force that it promted the speeder to nearly flip over. Sulan let out a shrill scream that was lost between the collapsed glass and Zeisan's ears as she fell, lurching violently on top of one of the floating landing platforms suspended on the planet's surface with barely enough time to take in the pain that washed over her entire body.

The blurry, flickering lights coming from both buildings and speeders surrounding painted themselves like thin stars in her field of vision, an unbearable ringing bursting her eardrums; She felt the blood trickling down from her forehead, the metallic taste of it beginning to sting ⎯ burn, more like ⎯ from her gorge, an indescribable pain pierced her ribs and smoke found a case in her lungs, she felt incapable to even lift her head up to cough it all out, accepting the pain of the thick glass of the destroyed window stabbing into her arms if it could be exchanged for cheating the Oracle's will.

     A uniformed someone whose face she couldn't see ⎯ thanks to both disorientation and the fact that they had it almost fully covered ⎯ approached her collapsed frame at a quick pace, their striking imposingness clogging up the ambience. Dam of adrenaline (and the terrifying thought that there was a possibility her siblings hadn't survived eating away at her mind), she rushed her hands towards her lower back and prayed her bayard to still be stitched to its rightful place in her belt, her previous inability dissolving into ashes like the smoke rising from their crash as soon as the frisson took over her body.

Strangulated coughs were beginning to creep in as she finally managed to aim the gun: A first plasma shot landed on their chest, near their heart, her unexpected unforeseen measure managing to stop them in confusion. A quick click told her she had succeeded in changing the weapon's modality and with a second shot of galvanism, Zeisan managed to knock them out cold. A third shot fired out, just to be sure.

     Once the silhouette stopped moving, still and  sprawled on the floor just a few meters away from her, Zeisan wheezed, letting her head fall back, victim of shock and finally able to process the scene she had just lived. (Was it blood or tears running down her cheeks?) She heard someone scream her name in desperation. Adnéat. She gave out a quiet chuckle when she saw him throw himself to his knees beside her, a relieved sigh flying from her lips as she finally closed her eyes. She now knew he still lived and she would soon be safe again.

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wc:  3700

⛅️  zeisan when the senate asked her to do a speech:

but like, it's on them cause they should've just listened to her when she said she didn't want to go 🙄

⛅️   AOTC IS HERE!!! i'm so hyped up for this omg. there was meant to be one last chapter in act one but um... also, five chapters is alright is it not? like let's just get into the actual plot already 🙄 i'm also taking advantage of what the number five means in yshtar'i culture now

⛅️   i tried to do a little something, a little different, for the way she starts out in this movie so please tell me what you think!! i love reading your comments 🫶✨

⛅️   i know everyone probably got this but yall know i gotta over explain myself every time ⎯ zeisan's dislike for naboo is not self-glazing, i am a naboo lover I SWEAR 🥺 i just wanted to convey: 1) her hater nature, and 2) the way she associates it with abandonment and desolation, comparing it to kas attara to try and find the warmth of the home that was stripped from her. she doesn't actually hate naboo, she thinks it nice, but she was being made to live there. with strangers, not even the naberries so... 😭

and she just doesn't like coruscant. for no reason. she thinks it's ugly and lame and associates it with job and she's lazy

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translations:

Pladýin : Religious reference. Beast of Greed.