For the fourth time in half as many minutes, the plaintiff from House Bonaga was shouting – and loudly enough that every word the man spoke echoed down the corridor from the Great Hall with crystal clarity:

"This is an outrage! I demand to speak to Lord Noreino immediately!"

"With lungs like that, I don't envy the nurses who saw him through his early childhood," Ineas Dakharen muttered bluntly, and Lux fought back a smile. "Nor do I envy your task to mediate this dispute, Lord Bonteri."

Hearing his old servant and advisor address him by his true title was a balm for the soul – almost enough to make him forget where he was headed and why.

"I'm starting to wish I followed your advice and took those headache meds before I left after all. I– oh." Lux's brows lifted when he saw Dakharen's outstretched hand and the container of pills nestled in his leathery palm. With a smile and a nod to show his thanks, he took it and swallowed one, and then a second for good measure. "You really do think of everything, old friend. Thank you."

"Your mother was the same: always so focused on larger concerns that she paid little mind to the smaller ones. Until they had grown enough to draw her gaze, that is. In time I learned to anticipate her needs and meet them when she herself was too preoccupied. I have merely done the same for you."

Any other day, the wise older man's soothing talk of the past would've eased his mind; transported him to a place far from here, where things still made sense. But not now, so close to that day fate had set him so brutally on this path...

"Please don't talk about my mother," he said in a pitifully small voice. Some wicked corner of his conscience reminded him his father needed an heir fit to lead in his stead, not a sniveling child, but grief had sapped his strength from him.

Thankfully, Dakharen didn't comment on it, instead bowing his head in apology. "Oh, that's right... forgive me, my lord, I had forgotten what time of year it was. I suppose it's best I hold my tongue for the foreseeable future, when it comes to the business of Senators and plots and such things."

Lux managed a cool, stiff nod and picked up the pace. His self-control was slipping, and inner voices that sounded more and more like his father's were easily finding fresh insults to hurl his way on the subject. Still, he couldn't muster the willpower to speak again. He wouldn't have known what to say even if he'd had it.

When they reached the Great Hall, it was almost a relief. Finally Lux could turn his mind to the situation within, which was blissfully loud enough to block out any unwanted emotional background noise. He barely noticed the climb up to the elevated throne beside his father's empty one, nor remarked that the gilded metal and plush velvet were just a hair less constricting than an interrogation table.

Three people stood waiting before the thrones that were of interest to him today. The first, who was still yelling, was the balding, richly dressed Etrik Bonaga. A series of unfavorable matches in the hotheaded man's immediate ancestry had deprived him of most prospects beyond the financial, but from what Lux knew, that wealth was so great it more than made up for the lack of good breeding.

Across from him stood the glacial representative of the family with whom Etrik was quarrelling: the tall, dark Lady Arahlee of House Taevarion. Based on how Etrik's insults seemed to run off her like water over glass without ever finding their mark, he guessed her reputation at the negotiating table had not been exaggerated.

Caught between them and trying desperately to keep the peace, in an ironic mirror image of their family's role in this conflict, was representative Elein Ovakaré of the Ovakaré Trade Network from Naboo. Lux didn't know entirely what to make of them, but perhaps his and their similarity in age – twenty and twenty-five years – and experience could work in his favor, if he played his cards right.

But there was also a chance he was underestimating them. The Naboo valued the insight of their young much more highly than most Onderonians. Lux had heard many stories of adolescent Senators and child queens whose exploits he would've normally thought the products of a lifetime's worth of experience. But as Dakharen had said, now was not the time to be thinking about Naboo Senators and plots.

And the closeness in age was clearly not enough to bridge the gap, for as soon as Elein Ovakaré looked up and saw Lux instead of Zakhan Noreino, they shook their blond head and called, "Friends, feast your eyes on the depth of the Lord Imperator's investment in our troubles: we have been given a man-child to settle them!"

"My father has not the time for every complaint that reaches his desk," Lux shot back smoothly. Then, in perfect Nabooese, he added, "I'll remind you, Mx. Ovakaré, that it was I who arranged for you to be here, because I felt your insight may shed some light on the situation at hand. My father might not have been as accommodating to an outsider."

The Naboo ambassador's eyes narrowed, and from the way Lady Arahlee raised an eyebrow, Lux wondered if she too spoke the language. Etrik, however, clearly did not, for he immediately insisted he be told what was going on.

"I was merely welcoming out offworlder guest and thanking them for joining us on such short notice," Lux offered. "Now, shall we begin? And please–" he shot a pointed look at Etrik, "–let's go about this with cool heads. I'd like to believe no one present has any wish to exacerbate the situation at hand. Now, Mr. Bonaga, as plaintiff, you shall make your case first."

Etrik, though still red in the face, spoke succinctly and in a surprisingly even tone. "I informed the Crown some months ago that I was forming a company with my associates in the Ovakaré family to... expedite the process of selling metals from my mines abroad. I hoped to petition for it to become a state-owned enterprise if it proved to be profitable, in exchange for a... minor role in the trade sector."

Lux clasped his hands together and leaned his face forward onto them. The man clearly thought his vagueness was equal to subtlety, but the hidden meaning to his words was plain as day: with the help of some powerful offworlders, Etrik was hoping to trade in some of his wealth for a means to a title of his own.

"The startup was going exactly as planned until I started getting unusual orders from the Imperator's office – as a member of the Great House overseeing Onderon's intelligence bureau, Lady Arahlee was cleared to look into that line of equipment, investigate this warehouse..." Etrik crossed his arms and cast an angry look at his opponent, clearly biting back an insult. "Now to the point, my lord. I always found things missing after the fact. I could never prove it, because Taevarion records always detailed less inventory than I'd stated prior. I have copies of the paperwork I was shown before every such incident for you to consult, if you wish."

He produced a datapad and turned it on, and Dakharen hurried to examine it from the place he'd assumed beside the podium. After scrolling through it for a few seconds, he turned to Lux again. "Just a standard memo and the manifest of House Taevarion's findings, my lord – though perhaps it's the context that makes it unusual. Shall I set it aside for later?"

The old manservant looked much as he ever did, but in the too-quick shifting of his hands, the twitching of his eye, there was something more: he was nervous. In one with little concern for his own wellbeing, and to whom breaches of self-control were extremely rare, that only ever happened when he was worried for something involving Lux. What was the matter? Was there a trap here Lux had not sensed?

Lux waited a few moments more, studying Dakharen carefully. When his countenance didn't improve, Lux extended a hand for the manifest. "No. If my honored guests will give me leave, I'd like to see it now."

Instantly, the tension in Dakharen's shoulders slackened – whether in relief or acceptance of this change in circumstances, Lux didn't know, but there was no time to dwell on it. Now, he had to switch gears, put aside the Imperator's heir he was by day in favor of the slicer he was by night. The second the datapad was in his hand, Lux turned up the brightness and set to work picking apart every detail.

He read the memo once, then again a second time to cement the important information. As Dakharen had said, in itself, the memo wasn't far out of the ordinary – ambiguously worded, perhaps, but that was practically House Taevarion's policy. Lux had to go deeper, read between the lines...

House Taevarion getting involved to this degree in something as petty as the grabs for power of a lesser member of a rival house – especially at the behest of his father – made little sense to him. He had a hunch something here wasn't right.

Under the guise of drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the datapad, Lux began tapping at different corners of the screen. With luck, there would be a flaw in the code of the document that would allow defects to materialize.

As he brushed a hand over the top of the screen a fine blue outline appeared around the seal of House Noreino, the presence of which certified the legitimacy of the document. Suddenly it took Lux conscious effort to keep his expression blank, for this was exactly the proof he needed.

The image had been embedded into the memo quite cleverly, cleverly enough to fool a man as unaccustomed to the protocols for this sort of documentation as Etrik. But Lux had grown up the heir to one house, and was now heir to another: he knew only the leader of a House had the clearance to generate digital stationery with their seal already coded into the document.

Against a man with the sort of reputation his father had, few would think to question the Imperator's authority and look more closely.

"You stand by your claim that this is one of the memos you were sent to authorize the investigations?" Lux asked, setting the datapad aside.

Etrik's brows shot up. Too surprised by the insinuation to muster anger, he spluttered, "Completely, my lord!"

"Very well," Lux said calmly. "This is a fake."

Etrik gawked. Lady Arahlee pursed her lips. Elein Ovakaré fought to keep their expression under wraps, but unease still bled rich and pungent through their façade. Lux's thoughts flicked back to reports he'd read on endeavors by offworld companies to establish a relationship with Onderonian businesspeople, and how most had ended badly. Perhaps there was more at stake here for the young Ovakaré representative than he'd initially assumed... or perhaps they were involved.

Lux could assume nothing now.

"It's– It's the Taevarions!" Etrik snapped, finding his fire again. "They must be responsible! My inventory disappeared only after they started meddling!"

"And the fake document lends support to your claim," Lux allowed, "but does not prove it. I shall not rule in your favor until there is proof."

"Surely circumstantial evidence is enough! They had the fake manifest to get into my warehouses and mining facilities. It was after their visits that my equipment and merchandise went missing. Clearly there is a conspiracy at hand!"

"Mr. Bonaga," Lux began, but Etrik cut him off.

"How dare you not prosecute this woman's family! My goddaughter is the Lady Chrysilika, wife of our beloved Lord Noreino and mother of his children!"

A lesser person would have caved under such a statement, which had no doubt been saved as a trump card for this exact moment. But Lux was uniquely placed to know just how empty of a threat it was.

"Yes, but she is not my mother, and I am Lord Noreino's son and heir – and the current mediator of this dispute. You would do well to watch the way you throw titles around, Mr. Bonaga. I can assure you, you will be quickly outmatched."

The man bristled, but Lux was done entertaining his every comment. He held up a hand and turned to Etrik's fellows.

"I suggest you move more carefully as of now, my lady. Next time something far more incriminating may surface, and the King's justice spares only the innocent."

"Your father's justice should look more kindly on my family, boy," Lady Arahlee hissed. Behind her icy expression, her eyes blazed with anger. "The balance of power is never constant. It shifts rapidly without the right friends at your back."

Lux flashed her a sweet, tight-lipped smile. It grew wider still when all three of them recoiled at the acid in his voice. "That is the first mistake I've seen you make, my lady. You see, I am not my father, and I never will be. You will never get his kind of justice from me."

For a moment, Lux's three guests, Dakharen, even the guards all stood frozen in silence, waiting for someone to make the next move. Lux sat tall as he stared them down, sparing no venom as he looked each one in the eyes in turn. Man-child, these three would name me? I think not.

"Then I will investigate the source of this fakery thoroughly," Lady Arahlee replied after a long moment. "We simply did as instructed by a party we thought was the Lord Imperator's retinue."

Etrik spluttered indignantly, but at Lux's raised eyebrow, he quieted down. "And I shall continue the investigation from my end. In the meantime, Mr. Bonaga, do your utmost to produce proof for your case, and Mx. Ovakaré, relay your findings to your superiors on Naboo. It would be best they reevaluate where they wish to stand in all this before the next phase in my search."

Then, with a quick nod to Dakharen, Lux descended the steps and strode out of the Great Hall as fast as dignity – and his rapidly spinning head – would permit. He had so many questions, still, and he needed time to think, away from the prying eyes and pricked ears of his guests. But despite the unknowns, he was reeling with a rich, barely-remembered feeling of victory.

Finally, finally he had proof of his abilities to appease his father. He'd been given the task of sorting out a skirmish between two Great Houses, and he'd done his job so well he'd even caught onto the loose ends of a conspiracy! There would be no more questioning whether or not Lux was worthy to succeed him, no more confining him to reams of paperwork so simple a child could do it...

Lux breathed deeply and held back an impulse to run laughing down the hall, like he had so often done as a boy after passing an exam with flying colors. As soon as he got his thoughts in order and came up with a sound plan of action for his investigation, he would go to his father and give his report. And then–

Heavy, commanding bootsteps. A voice dark with anger saying his name, then again with far more force behind it: "Aluxsidrian."

Instantly Lux's heart was in his throat – the product of more angry talks than he could count, which always began with that exact tone of voice – but a wave of calm followed soon after. His father didn't yet know of his success; he had no reason to be pleased just yet. Once Lux explained everything that would all change.

Maybe, once his father's worst fears about Lux's apparent incompetence had been assuaged, it would be like old times again, when his mother had been away on long campaigns on Coruscant and it was just the two of them. The circumstances had changed, certainly, but a kernel of the warm person his father had been before the war surely had to exist somewhere below the surface...

Lux turned and drew himself into a slight but respectful bow as his father strode down the hallway, flanked by a pair of guards. "Father. I was just on my way to prepare for my report on–"

"Tell me," Zakhan cut in crisply, "what does it mean to be Heir-Designate to the head of a Great House?"

The question took Lux aback, as did the frigid tone of voice in which his father spoke – but not enough to throw his composure. Zakhan Noreino's temper was an overloading power pack, red-hot and hovering on the edge of an explosion. So long as that did not manifest outright, Lux had little to fear. "The title is given to the one chosen to succeed the head of the House," he answered. "To have an Heir-Designate is a sign of the leader's faith in the next generation, and shows that their House has produced someone worthy to lead them into the future."

"You mentioned faith," his father said. He made a delicate grasping gesture at the air before him, like the concept was something he could catch with his bare hand. "What might a prospective Heir-Designate have to do, to merit such a thing?"

"I... suppose they might have to prove their worth with demonstrations of their intelligence, values, loyalty, and an understanding of government and the balance of power between the other Houses."

Zakhan nodded, the picture of perfect calm. It shattered when he spoke. "And you have shown not only a complete lack of understanding for the last, but also disregard for everything I have sought to build for our House in the last three years."

Lux clenched his jaw tight to keep it from dropping. This wasn't his father's usual anger – that was a beast that could be lulled into complacency with the right word spoken at the right time, eased down to a dull warmth Lux could withstand. It always alarmed him, but at least it was a known enemy. This ran cold and deep, and froze Lux in place as surely as the icy winds from the Arrowhead Mountains.

"Our House is small – beyond you and me, there are your two legitimate half-siblings, a handful of bastards, a few distant cousins. We have not risen so high by alienating those as powerful as House Taevarion, especially not for a loudmouth with a fondness for conspiracy theories," Zakhan spat. "We have survived and grown strong by taking initiative. We do not cower behind the King's justice when others seek ours before his. We dispense it, and we do it in our favor."

"But that's against the constitution of–"

Zakhan caught Lux by the collar and slammed him into the side. His torso took the brunt of the impact against the stone wall that was suddenly a lot closer than it should have been, and all the air he'd taken in for his counterargument was forced clean out of his lungs.

The heavy thud of his skull making contact with the tacky golden detailing drew fresh fear from him, but the look of pure rage in his father's eyes overwhelmed any impulse to reach back and check for a wound. Instead he let his breathing spike as his body worked to recuperate from the oxygen loss, and kept his gaze trained carefully on the ground.

"My justice is your justice, Aluxsidrian Noreino," Zakhan growled, the words hot on Lux's brow. "Remember that, for you remain Heir-Designate purely out of necessity: I do not have the time to groom another into a more suitable candidate. But your brother and sister will not be children forever."

You can never do anything right. You are useful only until another star rises to take your place. You are dispensable.

Words failed him, and Lux shut his eyes and sagged under his father's hold in surrender. He'd learned a lot of hard lessons about his limits in the last few years, and he knew better than to continue fighting a battle he couldn't win.

The disgusted sneer on Zakhan's face stayed in Lux's mind long after he'd rounded the corner and passed out of sight. Bitterly, a part of him wondered if there ever would come a battle he could win without completely losing the war.

Lux is back in the spotlight and eager to prove himself with what he's best at: politics and reading people. But his father sees Lux's commitment to justice as something unfavorable when there are gains to be made for the family by letting higher ideals slide, and as far as he's concerned, this is a test Lux failed. Will Lux keep fighting to win his father's favor, or will the seemingly unending slew of defeats eventually get the better of him? Only time will tell...

So, about the use of Great Houses in this fic. While this is not my absolute bible, I took a TON of inspiration from fan-made content I found online ( https://www.thestarwarsrp.com/index.php?threads/onderon.66230/ ). The system of titles is my own invention, and I'll be expanding on it a LOT MORE later, but here's a crash course to give you guys some additional clarity in advance.

In Onderonian circles where people know which family you're from, the head of a Great or Lesser House of Onderon has the honor of being addressed as 'Lord/Lady [House Name]' to imply that they speak for their entire family. Not calling the head by their proper title would be a pretty serious insult. Everyone else is simply 'Lord/Lady [first name]' – though, as we saw in this chapter, not everyone in a House necessarily has a title, and that will come up again later.

In this universe, Mina was the leader of House Bonteri, so in life she'd have been properly addressed as Lady Bonteri. Now that she's gone, Lux is properly addressed as Lord Bonteri, though there's a bit of a tug of war going on about whether it's his identity as a Bonteri leader or his identity as a Noreino Heir-Designate that he should be living up to. He's got a lot of problems with the life he's living now, but his father is the only family he has left, after all...