Declarations of War

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The Senate Building had been empty in Coruscant since the day the Emperor had dissolved it— nearly sixty years prior. Even after the Empire had fallen, the Senate building was not the tourist attraction that the Imperial Palace was, and thus had fallen into disrepair.

That is, until the events leading up to the day of the hearings.

It had been cleaned, the floating Senate booths tested and restored to working order. The large corridors outside of the Senate floor were filled with people. Historians, holo-reporters, and mere civilians were all there, paying witness to the history about to be made.

Nellith leaned into the wall next to the booth for Chandrila. That was where Finn and Rose Tico were sitting with Sam and Danni, waiting for the session to begin. Beaumont Kin, the Senator for Chandrila, was whispering to Sam and Danni some last-minute tips for the testimony.

She remembered that her mother didn't like Beaumont Kin all that much— claimed he was a bit of a know-nothing know-it-all.

"He's more smug than a smuggler after a game of pazaak," Rey would always grumble the few times they visited the planet in her childhood. "He's always telling me about some text or another that he found that surely reveals more about the Force than I know— never mind that it's some source Tionne wrote—"

"It's all so strange, isn't it?"

Nellith turned her head to see Kyp emerging from the crowd of mixed Jedi and Poe Dameon's aides.

"My great-grandmother was once here," he said, leaning against the other side of the opening. "She was a Senator for Deyer, while the Imperial Senate was still active Never thought we'd ever be here again. You can feel it."

"The corruption." Nellith nodded, looking back into the chamber. "Palpatine wasn't the only evil that was built here. So many— and they weren't trying to be bad people, most of them. They wanted to help, and they made sacrifices. . ."

"But in the process, they lost their hearts, all of them."

Nellith noticed the dark fire in his eyes, the strange ferocity of his expression.

"Staring into the heart of it all, I don't wonder at all why Vader destroyed it all."

Nellith blinked— she couldn't be hearing right.

"You're not siding with Imperial ideology, are you?"

"What?" He looked back to her, and blinked— all the sudden ferocity gone. "No, Nellith— just because I understand doesn't mean I agree with it. I can just see why Vader got frustrated with the bureaucracy."

Nellith frowned. "It's more than that. Don't lie to me."

Kyp glanced into the chamber once more before looking back to her. "You know Deyer was the first casualty of the war."

"There isn't a war yet." At the same time, Nellith knew exactly what he was talking about.

Deyer was the last great battle of the Second Galactic Civil War, or so the history texts read.

The Remnant had fled there and remained there for a long time. Despite all attempts from the New Republic to free the world, the Remnant of the First Order maintained an iron grip on the world.

Nellith remembered when Kyp Durron had become a student at the Praxeum, because of how he had helped her mother win the Battle of Deyer, that freed the planet at last.

But training at the Praxeum, freeing the people of Deyer— that didn't bring his family back.

And he was a boy then, only thirteen years old. A boy with powers far too great, and who still held rage and unprocessed grief and guilt in his heart.

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