Ask Chandrila Familial Affairs

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

Laeo had never liked Chandrila.

He didn’t know why exactly. Growing up in the cramped, dark and disgusting tenements of lower Cormond had given Laeo a taste for luxury and beauty that hadn’t waned after years of traveling offworld. By any metric, Chandrila was everything the man could’ve wanted in an ideal home. The cities were open, the skies were clear, poverty was virtually nonexistent, and what few citizens weren’t fortunate enough to take care of themselves were provided for.

What little beauty could be found in most Brentaalan cities were monuments to vanity or faith; massive statues dedicated to the ancestors of some local lord, or a massive golden domed temple consecrated to any number of Gods or local ancestors. Chandrilan public spaces were filled with elements of the natural environment, or arts open and available to the public. Compared to the crushing hives of humanity that were Brentaalan cities, Chandrila seemed utopic by comparison.

And yet, he didn’t like it.

The… openness and friendliness of the people felt wrong, like someone was trying to get one over on him or were patronizing him. The way everything was buildings and rooms were open and accessible instead of closed off and private made him feel uncomfortable. He felt like he was going mad from the lack of speeder noise or ads or blaster fire going off in the background. All of it just felt off.

He couldn’t understand why, of all worlds, Tristodd had taken his mother here. Surely the noble would’ve preferred if the source of a catastrophic political scandal were as far from the homeworld as possible, but the Brentioch had decided to put his mother on Brentaal’s happy go lucky twin.

He’d have an opportunity to ask him what was going on when the younger man showed up. Laeonas was hunched over in his seat as he looked at his datapad, sipping on a cup of caff while reading about the latest atrocity the dark lord had inflicted. Something about the royal family of Onderon being eaten or whatever. Ordinarily he would’ve felt some pang of righteous fury, but as far as monarchs were concerned, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

That was how the aristocrat would find him, sitting in the shade of an umbrella at a table outside a caff shop on what had to have been the sunniest day in Chandrilan history. The man almost looked as pale as when he’d been on the operating table well over a year ago. The heavy eyeshadow he wore didn’t make that any less obvious either. He certainly looked… healthier though. Despite his gloomy appearance, the force radiated off him in waves, energy practically bursting from him as he sat back, noticeable even to ordinary passerby. He’d grown back into his physique and then some, the shirt he wore being a size wider than his usual fit.

He wasn’t from here. He didn’t want to be here, but family always took precedence over personal wants.

@LouJoVi

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

Tristodd loved Chandrilla, and he knew exactly why.

The planet was full of green plains, the sky was blue without any pollution, the cities were clean and there were oceans. Oceans! He could have complained when his parents sent him to study there, but in the end he had loved every second of it. The place was basically a paradise if compared to Brentaal.

Even with the nationalist propaganda that he was fed since a child, Tristodd still recognized how disgusting Brentaal was when compared with Chandrial. The cities were crammed with people, some living under terrible conditions. Besides it, the cities were also full of statues of deceased people, an ode to the arrogance of the nobility. The planet was covered in deserts, with few ephemeral lakes.

In the Bormea Sector, Brentaal was hell and Chandrila the paradise.

It was due to this vision that he had chosen this planet for his adoptive children and his nephew to live. Here they would be safe and far away from the dangers of the Brentaalan nobility.

Tristodd arrived in the caff shop with a smile at his lips, happy for being able to once again be in Chandrila. When he saw Laeonas, he raised an eyebrow. His cousin looked so displaced there. “Well, I hope that you didn’t wait for me that much.” he said, while sitting in front of the man. The answer was no, the Brentioch was right on time. “Are you prepared to go?”

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

A slight tug, telling him to look up, and there he was, sitting across from him.

“You move quietly.” Laeonas said flatly, looking back down at his datapad. Trist asked his question as the older man drank the last of his caff, scrunching his nose as he finished.

“Y’know, I specifically ordered it with no sugar. Pointed it out half a dozen times, and then they give me the sweetest mug of caff I’ve ever tasted.” He idly complained, turning off his datapad and reclining back in his chair as he sat across from his cousin. “Chandrilans.” he said idly, giving the younger man a knowing look.

“Eighty five minutes, by the way.” He finally answered, sitting silently for a moment, his expression blank, before he smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve waited longer for less. I appreciate that you arrived on time though.” He clarified.

He cocked his head when the Brentioch asked if he was ready to leave, a hint of surprise coloring his expression. “Really?” He asked, and it became clear that he wasn’t putting on an act. “It’s pretty early in the morning, Trist. You can have a mug of caff if you want. We’re not a rush; my mother isn’t going anywhere. Right?” He asked, his expression suddenly flattening as he looked across at the aristocrat, aquamarines boring holes into his soul.

Laeo’s hands were placed flat on the table, the fingers on his left hand drumming against it idly. Apart from that, he didn’t even blink.

“Why here?” He asked, leaning forward ever so slightly. “Were there no empty apartments back home? Is the palace of the Brentiochs overflowing with residents? Is the palace of Tannaras under renovation? Why send a Brentaalan lightyears from their next of kin? Why send my mother?" He pressed on, scooting his chair closer.

“Whose idea was it? Yours, our uncle’s? You mentioned him, once or twice. Is this really about helping us, or is it about relieving the lot of you of a political headache?” He went on, just a hint of aggression and years of built up frustration in his voice. Only a hint, but it was enough to send a chill through the air.

That was all he felt though, all he allowed himself to feel. He kept control of his emotions, letting just enough slip out, like steam from a kettle on a stove.

A younger man would’ve been screaming at him, hands tearing at the noble’s collar, spit flying as he hurled every vile obscenity at the well bred boy who’d all but exiled his mother.

That wasn’t the man sitting across from him though. The questions he’d asked were more… rhetorical. Laeo could understand why Tristodd and his uncle had made their decisions, or at least he had a rough idea. He just wanted to hear how Tristodd would answer, how he’d react to the impromptu interrogation.

“I’ll be ready to go when you are.” He added, that smirk playing across his lips again.

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

”I have practice.” Tristodd said, but didn’t want to give more details about it. Telling a cousin that he knew for less than a year that he learned to be stealth because his parents hated when he left his room without permission and he needed to do it in secret wasn’t something that he wanted to do. Besides that, the dark-haired man didn’t give him the opportunity, because he immediately started to complain.

Since they met for the first time, Tristodd learned that Laeonas was worse than a spoiled child. The man complained about everything, from being at the hospital to needing to talk with his mother on another planet. He even complained about Chandrila. No one with a good mind would find anything bad about this place.

His complaints about sugar made him look like a hundred years old grumpy man.

Perhaps what was worst in him was the fact that Laeonas constantly moaned about how his life in poverty was bad. Tristodd had already dealt with a good number of refugees and he never heard them complain so much like his cousin. It was beyond annoying. It was insufferable.

But he was family and needed help.

“Did you finish?” he said, cutting the man’s rant. “It was my idea. Chandrila was safer, you don’t want to know what our family is capable of doing. I also have a friend that lives here, so he watches them when I can’t.” Tristodd wasn’t going to answer more than that, Laeonas wasn’t the police to interrogate him.

“Come, I’ll show you where Saura is living.” he said, before getting up from his seat. The Brentioch would guide his cousin to a speeder that he had rented. Once inside, he would drive them to the house.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

A spark of interest flashed against his aquamarines, the pursed lips, bemused smirk and playful “Hmm?” letting Tristodd know that Laeo thought his quip was interesting, if not a little amusing. He’d probe him on that sometime later, when the mood was a little more whimsical. He couldn’t remember the last time he got to torment someone with playful questions, and Tristodd seemed the type to be particularly entertaining under interrogation.

At least if the interrogation were a little less serious. Laeo hadn’t known how his cousin would receive his complaints, but outright dismissal was probably the last reaction he’d expected. He’d guessed that either Tristodd would be overly apologetic, bending over backwards to right any perceived wrong Laeo brought up– or he would fly off the cuff over the peasant daring to question his betters.

Instead, he answered the question with a matter of fact certainty that was… honestly, fairly impressive. Apparently people on his father’s side of the family had backbones as well. He took in everything Trist said, eyes wide open and aware, the slight hostility that had simmered beneath his expression fading.

“I see.” He answered, leaning back in his seat before standing up with his cousin. “This… friend of yours. Is he a client? Does he owe you anything? Is he repaying a favor?” Laeo asked, before frowning to himself. The Brentaalan had come to learn over the years that viewing every relationship as a transaction wasn’t the most constructive outlook. Growing up in a culture where the only people you were supposed to trust were your blood, or those in debt to you only reinforced that kind of an outlook.

“I don’t mean to assume; it’d… probably be better if your friend had nothing to do with our family.” He apologized, before standing as Trist beckoned him to follow. Leaving his payment on the table, the two would walk through the bustling avenue, walking past families illuminated under the morning sun or shaded beneath the massive foliage in the middle of the road.

“And, for the record– I know exactly what our family is capable of.” He added. He didn’t elaborate further, and he didn’t wait for a reply; nothing else had to be said on the subject.

Arriving at the speeder, Laeo would speed up a little, before grabbing the door and hopping over into the back seat. “I’ll leave you to it!” He called, gesturing at the pilot’s seat with a cheeky grin. “My Ma worked as a cab pilot for a few years when I was little. She used to drive drunk noble boys and girls home from clubs back to the palatial district.” The man began unprompted, crossing his legs and reclining back in his seat.

“I told her that I wanted to fly around like she did, but she smacked me upside the head and told me, ‘Darlin’, it oughta be THEM chaffrin’ ya around.’” He explained, putting on a surprisingly accurate impression of his mother.

“I just think she’ll get a kick out of hearing you flew me.” the man added, chuckling to himself.

Once they were in the air, Laeo would pull out a pack of deathsticks– before putting them back in his pocket. He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and he wouldn’t greet her stoned. The two of them flew in silence for awhile, Laeo trying to think of some other way to tease his cousin, but finding that he wasn’t really… up for it.

“So, uh… my uncle.” He began, pursing his lips before looking around, finally continuing. “My Ma told me once that she met him once, back when she and my dad were going steady. She said he had some sort of… idunno, limp? I can’t remember what she said exactly.” He elaborated. Any physically or mentally handicapped Brentaalan was usually put under the umbrella term of “invalid,” and Laeo hadn’t learned much about the nuances of disability in his travels; at least beyond the kind he himself had suffered through.

“I remember years ago overhearing about some marriage to some… what was her name? Well, I think I heard he got married or whatever. Every once and awhile he comes up in the news too. Is it true he was on Thyferra when the killiks attacked?” He’d ask. “I– well, you already know I was fighting on Corellia. It’s just… well, it’s hard to believe. Some… forty, fifty year old man dressed in an assemblyman’s toga fighting those things?”

@LouJoVi

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

Tristodd immediately turned to look at Laeonas when the man started to interrogate him about Jobin. “No? He is only a friend.” the young Brentioch didn’t understand why his cousin thought that the Chandrilan had only accepted to help him because he owed him something.

“Besides, I don’t need to explain my life to you. You aren’t my father.” he already needed to deal with his parents asking every detail about his life, now Laeonas wanted to do that too? If he would continue doing it, this trip would be insufferable. “Be satisfied in knowing that he is an old friend from the Legislative Youth Program and that he has no connection to our troubled family. If you want to know more about him, you can ask in person. He’ll be there waiting for us.”

Tristodd raised an eyebrow when Laeonas told his story about Saura driving cabs. “Given how your mother nearly killed me last time that she drove, I would never allow you to pilot it.” he said, before entering the vehicle. “Your mother is a very nice woman, but I’m still recovering from my near death experience due to her piloting abilities.”

Then, the Brentaalan started to drive the speeder. After some time, he heard Laeonas’ question about their uncle. “Our uncle was born with a sickness that, among other things, gave him a limp. Our grandfather hated him because of it. Hell, nearly everyone in Brentaal’s nobility hates him because of it.” he tried to explain the situation in a way that his cousin could understand. “But he is a good man. If I survived my childhood, it was because of him.” Tristodd would only say it, being too soon to give details about his sad childhood.

“He is divorced right now.” their uncle really had problems staying with wives. They always abandon him. “This is true, uncle Claudias was in Thyferra during their attack.” if it wasn’t for him, Amayah and Izayah would have never left the planet safely. “No matter what you hear others saying, uncle Claudias is the greatest and best person that came out of House Tannaras.”

After some time driving, Tristodd would leave Hanna city and enter the rural zone. Then, he would stop in front of the state where Saura and his nephew were living. “It’s here.” he said, before approaching the gate. Once it was open, they would hear a loud child laugh. The young Brentioch turned right on time to see Jobin approaching with his nephew, Sival, in his arms.

A large smile appeared immediately on Tristodd’s lips.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

“You aren’t my father.”

He couldn’t help bursting into giggles at Tristodd’s reply. Laeo couldn’t count the number of times one of his mother’s boyfriends or landlords or… whatever else earned an ear piercing, shrieking declaration from his boyhood self that they weren’t his father. Similar threats of how he’d throw them in jail once his dad finally came back or when he finally became lord usually followed; following that, he’d usually be beaten viciously, but that was fairly standard.

“Fine, fine, keep your cards close to the chest.” Laeo called, stifling further laughter as he pursed his lips.

He only opened them again when Tristodd began questioning his mother’s piloting skills. “AYY!... she’s not that bad!” He replied, the energy in his voice dissipating as he thought back to the few times he’d flown with her.

“...look, if you wanna keep me away from the wheel, be my guest.” He finished, crossing his legs and kicking them up over the rim of the speeder. He itched for a deathstick, or a cigarra, or even a shot of spotchka, but he silenced his cravings as he slipped into a brief meditative trance.

His blood was running hotter than usual for whatever reason. Laeo had spent years training, honing his senses and improving his discipline, but as they flew closer and closer to where he knew his mother was, it became harder and harder to remain focused, or quiet.

What would he say to her? Would he tell her about his failed stint with the Jedi? About the artifacts he’d collected on Xim’s ship, the beskar he’d claimed on Matoua? He could give her what he’d always promised her– a life of luxury, comfort, prosperity– what she’d always told him they deserved.

And yet, it didn’t feel like he’d accomplished much of… anything. The saber parts on his ship, the gauntlets in his jacket, the diadem, jewels and beskar in the cargo hold said otherwise, and yet…

He was stirred from his thoughts at the mention of divorce. Laeo had completely spaced out as Tristodd had elaborated on their uncle, only catching the last bit. “Divorce? Geeze.” Laeo replied, whistling. “Well, may Eire guide him to happiness and partnership, or however that prayer goes.” He added.

The admission that Brentaal’s least eligible bachelor had fought on Thyferra did cause his attitude to change a little. “Well, I… I didn’t really expect that to be true, if I’m being honest.” He answered. It was difficult for the Brentaalan to visualize; an aristocrat with a limp, fighting in a warzone to fighting on a foreign world, protecting people he’d never met. Had he and Claudias been fighting at the same time? What had brought him there?

For the first time since meeting Tristodd, he felt a genuine sense of kinship with these aristocrats he shared blood within.

“You’ll… have to introduce us, at some point.” Laeo said, any dismissive or mocking edge in his voice having faded. He was going to ask Tristodd one of these days, but now he wanted to… without consulting his ambition.

Laeo would step out of the speeder as they came to a stop, where they were both greeted by a well groomed, aristocrat-looking type carrying an infant. “He didn’t mention this.” Laeo thought, glancing at his grinning cousin. Judging by his positive demeanor, Laeo could assume this was Trist’s Chandrilan friend, joy of joys. The baby, on the other hand… nobody had mentioned an infant once, but Tristodd didn’t look surprised either.

“...hello. Are you the friend Trist’s been talking about?” Laeo suddenly asked, taking a step forward and outstretching a hand– before withdrawing to accommodate the baby in the man’s arms. “I’m… not sure if I should be saying congratulations?” He asked, looking at the child curiously.

@LouJoVi