Posted on Friday, 29 January 1999

With apologies to Jane Austen and George Lucas

A Long Time Ago In A Galaxy Far, Far Away…

Incandescent moonlight flooded through heavy-paned windows illuminating the great hall of Belysning. It flickered on the golden-wove tapestries causing little gems of light to float off them and trace gauzy shimmering patterns in the air. The tall, austerely handsome man standing in the silence barely noticed them descending like gossamer on to his dark cloak although he drew it around himself closely against the cold. He was Sir Thomas Bertram, Imperial Senator and Jedi Knight.

The silence in the great stone hall was disturbed suddenly by the arrival of a young man. He paused momentarily in the doorway to get his bearings and Sir Thomas looking up from his reverie smiled. The golden thistledown seemed attracted to his visitor, it rested on his hair gold on gold, and fell like embroidery on his long blue cloak. His eyes grew accustomed to the soft light and he began to make his way across the vastness of the hall. Sir Thomas continued to smile; the Force had always been strong in his family, until now, none of his children were touched with it only this nephew. Edmund Skywalker. He wondered briefly as the young man's graceful frame dropped down onto the marble steps at his feet if he were the one. The one who was to come. The one who would restore the Jedi… and even the Republic.

"I missed you, uncle."

Sir Thomas sat down stiffly beside him.

"I came to be alone," he said quietly, "this evening I felt a strange tremor in the Force as if a child's voice cried out to me in pain and fear."

He gazed deeply into Edmund's clear grey eyes willing him to have had the same experience. There were times when he doubted the Force, when he needed confirmation.

"Did you recognize the voice, sir?"

It was clear Edmund had not felt it. Sir Thomas looked away from him, sometimes he wondered if Edmund was a Jedi - his training had been inadequate, his feelings were not sharp, perhaps he was the only one left. The only remaining representative of a once great and noble order…

"Uncle?"

Sir Thomas looked again at Edmund.

"Why don't you ask the droid?"

He indicated the tiny golden-domed MIM1 robot hovering a few inches above the ground.

"You are obsessed with technology, Edmund. There is no need to ask the droid, the Force will reveal everything, it is just a matter of waiting."

Edmund, however, was young. He did not wait easily.

"Have there been any tragedies today that we should be aware of?" he asked.

The little droid whirred and made contact with the Empire's central computer complex. It responded within seconds with a series of almost musical whistles and burrs.

Sir Thomas had stood up and walked to the far end of the hall where vividly coloured battle flags made a rainbow profusion on the wall below the balcony. He had never bothered to learn the language of droids.

Edmund joined him in a series of quick light steps.

"Uncle, Mimi says a little planet in the Gaela system - Auera - has plunged into civil war, the capital city has been destroyed, no-one knows by whom, and the entire royal family have been killed… excepting one of the princesses and her whereabouts are unknown. Was it a girl's voice, uncle?"

"Auera… Auera…" he sat down on an ornate carved chair and put his face in his hands.

Edmund stood watching him for a moment but sensing the great pain he dropped down on one knee before him. "Whatever it is, uncle, tell me and I will do all I can."

Sir Thomas smoothed his trembling hands over his face, "I am related, distantly, to the Royal House of Auera," he said, "and now I believe the voice I heard to have been that of the eldest daughter, Princess Fanchea. If she is still alive I want her brought here as soon as possible. Take a Star Cruiser, Edmund, and anything else you want and bring the child to me."

"I'll go now," replied Edmund, "but tell me about her - what am I looking for?"

Sir Thomas indicated the droid, "A child of ten or eleven. Ask your metal friend."

He strode off through the vast expanse of moonlit stone leaving Edmund alone with the shimmering robot. "Come on, Mimi, I'll give you a rest. I'll ask the old imperial number-cruncher myself."

The MIM1 unit whirred in indignation but whether at the slight to itself or the central computer complex Edmund could not tell.

He bounded up the stairway at the end of the hall and was soon in the privacy of his own chamber. A glimmering lens set in a small octagonal carved table was the only concession to technology in the room; he ran his fingers lightly over the surface.

"I need the latest on the Auera situation," he said. Text flooded the holographic space above the table, he sighed, it was the usual civil war stuff. By now the scum of the universe would be there looting.

"Tell me about the princesses."

A picture began to form, the central computer informed him that the bodies of the Princesses Vevaia and Adela had been accounted for, and this was the remaining one. He sat down and looked at her. She was very young, his uncle was right at guessing her to be ten or eleven, with long straight hazel-coloured hair and pale blue eyes beneath a chaplet of opalescent azure stones.