The Children of the Stars

Project Changeling

It was in the dead of night that Allana was escorted back to her room. Her sister insisted on joining the handmaidens in returning her to her chambers without any of the Hapan nobles seeing or any of the Remnant having another shot at her.

How Nellith managed to swing that, Allana had no clue—but she suspected a few uses of some mind-tricks that would get them into big trouble if ever discovered.

Nonetheless, Allana was pleased that her sister was by her side. While night didn't mean much in Hapan space, due to the bright cluster of stars that made the night barely dimmer than the day, the shadows still seemed to cluster around every doorway. The very lights seemed to flicker as Allana followed her handmaidens back to her chambers.

It was a relief to return to the apartments that belonged to the Chume'da. It overlooked one of the lesser-frequented garden courtyards, and her balcony was nearly invisible to those who passed below, preventing snipers from attempting to kill her in what little leisure time she had.

That hadn't been a problem on Madrassa. The little moon was comprised mainly of remote villages and large estates that were separated by the beautiful mountains. Even the Chume'doro had been fewer and more relaxed than they were here, in Tenel Ka Chume'Dan.

Allana stood a moment on her balcony, observing the night sky. That was one of the best things about Hapes, she decided. It was so beautiful, for a den of vipers. The idea of the Heritage Council being after her was terrifying.

How had they discovered so much about her? After all, according to what her handmaidens had told her, they knew that she was a Jedi, and rumors had spread from the very beginning that she was Kylo Ren's daughter.

What if they weren't just Hapan extremists, whispered a little voice in Allana's mind. What if Thea had something to do with it?

She had wanted to sleep that night, but that was seeming further and further away with every new development.

Besides, she'd slept enough for the day when she had been poisoned, she decided. No, now she felt alive and was practically vibrating with energy.

Sansa tapped her arm. "We need to talk inside."

"Alright."

Allana followed her back into the large sitting room where all of the other handmaidens and Nellith were sitting around.

Vanya and Nellith had taken to sharing one of the love-seats, with Vanya perched somewhat gracefully on the arm of it, while Nellith had taken up the entire seat, kicking her boots onto the other arm. She looked just like a smuggler, without a care in the world.

On the floor, Inanna sat picking at the embroidery on her dress.

Vasilisa stood, arms folded over her chest.

Sansa joined Inanna on the floor, and Allana reluctantly sat down.

"Her Majesty told us what has happened, and she and Jedi Master Skywalker have decided that the only right course of action given the events of today is to to resume the Changeling Protocol," Vasilisa announced.

"Wait, you mean we'd have one of you pretend to be me again?" Allana demanded. She looked to where Sansa sat next to Inanna. "No, out of the question. I won't have any of you dying for me."

"With all due respect, that's why we did this in the first place," Vanya reminded her. "You can't die. You're all Tenel Ka has, and even that is tenuous at best. You still have to win over the nobles, to some extent. They will try to contest your future reign."

"And they already have." Allana's voice was quiet. "I still don't like it. I don't want Sansa taking the risk again."

"I would gladly do my duty." Sansa looked up at her with fiery eyes. "You are the Chume'da, you are She Who Comes After. You are our future. Some of our people are short-sighted and stupid enough to reject you because you are not of our blood. But anyone can see it— you will do great things one day. You're a Skywalker."

For the first time, Allana flinched at hearing her surname. What did it really mean, to be a Skywalker? All of her life, that question existed, although it never had been voiced. The good and the bad the Skywalkers had wrought on the galaxy followed all of them with every step, every mistake and every victory.

History was watching her and her family. And its eyes were unforgiving.

"Besides, it won't be Sansa stepping up for duty," Nellith said quietly.

Still, her voice cut through Allana's thoughts like her lightsaber.

"What?" Her voice was as cold and flat as the white marble beneath their feet. She tried to reach out, bracing for the impact of news that she realized was horribly true—

"I'm standing in for you," Nellith explained.

"It would never work." She dismissed it as quickly as she could— she would not lose another sister, no matter what. "You have blue eyes, and some of your features are different from mine—"

"Makeup solves a lot of those problems," Vasilisa told her. "Besides, eye color isn't always easy to tell."

"And there's some tricks in the Force, too, that can help." Nellith bit her lip. "I think I learned how to do it back when. . ."

She trailed off, and Allana knew she was thinking of the three years she couldn't remember. A reminder of the distance, the wall that had been built between them by their sister and the war.

She wasn't blameless— she had cut herself off, after all. But she hated it all the same.

"No, you're just as important as me," Allana said. "No one is sacrificing themselves for me—"

"That's the thing, I'm not," Nellith argued. "I've done more to train and fight. I'm a full-fledged Knight. You aren't, yet. I've got a better shot at defending myself from anyone who tries."

"Dad won't stand for it," Allana tried.

"He didn't like it, but he knows he can't stop me," Nellith said. "I've made my mind up. For the rest of this conference, I'm going to be the Chume'da, and you'll be Amelia. And that's that."

"It really is the best course of action," Sansa said earnestly. "And you'll learn more about your people by pretending to be Amelia."

"I suppose so." Allana knew she would not win this fight. But all the same, she wished that there was another way.