Saga - OT [DDC 2018]”Raising the enemy”, Orson Krennic, 12 diary entries

Here we go with an update, @Kahara, @DarthUncle, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, @Nehru_Amidala and @earlybird-obi-wan.​

Entry 8, Scarif, nine months after 1st Empire’s Day:

Strewth. Delia waited for me outside my flat building. I have an educated guess who dared to give her my private address. And it wasn’t Tarkin. Not this frecking time.

It is forbidden by law to gun down one’s own mother. Oh, wait, the woman who shares DNA with me. I still fail to see her as my mother. No matter how hard Nagina and Mistress Anil tried. And believe me, diary, they gave their utmost.

Orson, she had post-natal depression!

Orson, she did therapy and really wants to reconnect with you!

Orson, please don’t give up on her like that!

Orson, time can heal any wound. Just let it happen.

Perhaps I should get a restraining order for Kelsa, but I fear that will not be enough. Members of the church of the Force are hardly bearable when on a mission. I seem to be hers.

Anyway, the meeting with Delia was disgusting and stressful alike. That hag really believes that I am the father of her baby. She had the poor creature with her. It was a sight that I will never forget. That peaky face, those empty eyes.

Why does not anybody help that baby girl? The entire war machinery of the Empire is not worth anything when we fail to protect the defenceless.

How can my battle star end so much misery and injustice? Well, time for some water sports on Scarif. I need the ocean breath and some sun beams on my skin. Perhaps a barbie at the beach. And plenty of Corellian ale, served ice-cold.


Translation from the Chandrilan rural dialect into Basic:
Strewth = exclamation of disbelief
a barbie = a barbeque

 

Wow, very gripping and unforgettable experience!

 

He sure is pissed off

 

Yeah, he's very Orson there, a bit of an ass, but still show us where he's coming from, and it's not quite a bad motivation as it goes. And then he changes his tune about scarif. Wait, is that a reference to what he's doing with the tower there? Does he have cassie yet here? It seems not, or am I wrong?

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Actually, I had trouble writing this update, until it became clear that I still needed a 2nd update for May.

Trying to wind myself through the paper trail that the chronic illness of my husband makes takes us both a lot of time and it costs energy to get in contact with all the authorities simply fighting for our rights (= taxes, health insurance and so on).

@earlybird-obi-wan: The poor man is simply an outlet for my dark and sinister feelings. For all the stress and upsetment that I feel at times. I cannot bring those things into the crèche. The little ones would feel it. So I empty my mind, heart and soul before I go to work and simply "be". Zen like really.

I start to be 100% me again once I walk through the gate and make my way to the subway station.

@DarthUncle: You ask me to spoiler you? Sigh!

Well, alert husband of mine, has Cassandra popped up in the diary before? Nope?

Dus...

... ach ze is er niet.

 

Oooh, right. Well, good.

So can I guess that we'll get a brilliantly Australian-snark Orson battling through such stuff for his little girl then? Very good, looking forward to bureaucracy having sublimated into something creative. Of course, there might be some reading you'd have to do

Namely, before you throw it away, you need to read Franz Kafka's The Trial (yes, that Dutch version, before you get rid of it, because you, a German somehow failed to get that book in German ) Alternatively, I could go and buy the Dutch author Voskuil's semi-authographic 7-books series (~5000 pages in all) 'The office' which is about his time in a bureaucratic research institute (Don't worry, there is a German translation ).

 

Spaßvögelchen, @DarthUncle.

* sneaking towards YOUR OFFICE CHAIR...

 

Okay, here update number 10, @Kahara & @Pandora. Plus @DarthUncle, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha & @earlybird-obi-wan:


Entry 10, Scarif, personal Revelation Day:

This old liar! Oh, he thinks himself to be so clever, but he is not. I can see right through him. It is her clone in that tank. I need no DNA test to tell me that. Deep in my heart I know the truth by just looking at that baby girl in the tank. Sheev took some genetic material – a strain of hair, some finger nail clippings, whatever – and asked Kamino to create him a new Nagina. Perhaps he even used his dark, arcane magic to make her rise from the death again. Who does he think he is? Death will not, cannot, should not be cheated like that. Not even by the man who crowned himself Emperor. He has a major flaw in his plan though: me, silly me. I will not let him have his all. This time he cannot claim Nagina for his own. She will be saved from him and his madness. I will take her in when the time is ripe. He lost all his rights as a family member. One does not grow a child inside a glass tube like a vegetable. Even I had the chance to grow up under a blue sky with warm sun shining on my face. And I have been loved. Not by my parents, but by Nagina. This is why I owe her and I always will. I already have a heist in mind, greater than any act of thievery the universe has seen before. My schemes will take years to grow to fruition, but it will be perfect and the reward ever so sweet. And it is more than saying sorry to the woman I loved like no other, it is a chance for remission of my sins.

Oh, Sheev, you should have stayed truthful with me. You lied about so many things. Me not being in charge of the Death Star Project is but the top of the iceberg. I will take her out of this tank sooner or later. She will grow up under my watchful eyes and in my loving care. I will teach her respect for you and your Empire, but her heart will be mine and mine alone. You will not come between us this time.

 

Oops, so Krennic found a secret hiding in his own plans? Sometimes it is very clear that the emperor only sees the future he wants to see, missing the obvious, usually the human factor, the positive emotions. And sweet that rather cold-hearted Orson can't abide having a child (sure, a child he knows and has warm feelings for, but still) grow up without love. But still, he doesn't seem to recognize that this is emblematic for why the empire won't work. Still, glad for the child that shes found. Looking forward to see /read how he breaks her out without the empire knowing he did it!

 

Wow, Orson has made a crucial discovery!

 

A Nagina clone? Well, that’s one way of recreating the past. Orson better get a move on it and rescue that baby. Sweet chapter.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

This is really moving and Orson's concern for the clone child comes through loud and clear. You know that you've written an engaging character when my advice to them is: Sure, Orson. Steal that baby. Best idea you've had in a long time!

I mean, I have all kinds of concerns about him as a parent, and I'm not clear on how he means to achieve all of this plot. Could be something really troubling, given that he somehow has the child welfare authorities convinced of things that I'm pretty sure aren't true in another story. But I like that he does truly care and isn't in favor of leaving Nagina's clone confined. He's right about the fact that a kid needs to grow up with love and care. Sheev isn't doing her any favors by keeping her in a high-tech enchanted slumber.

 

@DarthUncle: There will be a story about it at a point, but not today. Because you just pointed out that I have to prepare several talks with the parents as it is my duty at the end of the kindergarten year due to the Berlin senate.

"Berliner Bildungsprogramm" non-stop, larynx inflammation or not.

But yeah, should write Orson a heist with an unknowing Saw Gerrera as a mere tool.

The entire plot is merely scratched on the upper surface in the prologue of "And death shall have no dominion":


Prologue:

In the early morning light the Citadel tower seemed unreal. Its entire metal façade was glittering as if someone had sprinkled fairy dust all over it. This way the military building looked more like the enchanted abode of a princess, ready for the rescue. But there was no dragon to be slain. Nor a brier hedge to overcome. There was only a strict time schedule to follow. Some acts of diversionary tactics also needed to be displayed.

Chess, an ancient strategy game, had only three rules. They said, “Carefully, carefully, carefully.”

The Emperor was certainly nobody to trifle with. Especially, when it was about his personal belongings.

“I am not afraid.” Orson Krennic smiled to himself, while quoting these words from memory. They originated from his old fairy tale book, that he used to have back on Chandrila. “I must go and see this Sleeping Beauty.”

A squad of Coastal defender stormtroopers, more commonly known as shoretroopers, came marching towards him. He neither slowed down or showed great haste. Walking as casual as possible under the circumstances, he met the men in the middle of the square.

Their leader, recognizable via his sand blue stripe that went along the top of his chest plates and onto the top of his shoulder guard, held up a hand. He came to a halt and so did the soldiers.

“Pete,” the masked man greeted Orson Krennic. “Long time no see!”

“Trouble on top of the circus again.”

“If you cannot fix that, nobody can.”

Against Imperial protocol they gave each other a high five.

“Smell you later, Daggett!” Orson Krennic laughed.

“Put some cans of Corellian ale for us in the fridge, would you,” replied the squad leader. “Field exercise makes us thirsty.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Grinning, Orson Krennic moved on, trying not to tread with the dignity and purpose of an Imperial officer. Instead he walked like the farm boy that he used to be a life time ago.

To the military staff of this base he was not the Director of the Advanced Weapons Research division. Nor was he the architect behind the local Imperial security complex. He was simply Pete Rayburn, a radar technician. This alter ego, on which he had carefully worked on the past four years, came with a foolproof disguise. A false beard, a dark-brown wig, spectacles and coloured contact lenses.

Nobody here on Scarif had ever questioned him. He had joined the men at the cantina tables, had used their rest rooms and showers side by side. Off-duty he had played guitar and had sung the songs of their home worlds with them.

It made Orson Krennic sad, that he would need to betray his comrades within the next hour. They were good men, loyal to the Empire and less posh than the wowsers that Tarkin gathered around him all the time. Folk like Admiral Conan Antonio Motti and General Cassio Tagge would never know how to relax themselves with a drink at the beach. Or how to fry a lobster above a fire pit.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a movement in the undergrowth. An ugly visage showed itself and revealed a yellowish grin. He knew for certain that it was the Lasat who belonged to Saw Gerrera’s partisans. That vile creature had mercilessly executed Alexsandr’s entire platoon on Onderon. Luckily, it had left the able ISB agent alive.

Orson Krennic knew that Alexandr would not agree with his plans for today. But they were based on a simple fact.

In a galaxy too vast to reign properly, children were able to get lost without a trace. Even those who were stored up for safe keeping like Chandrilan grappaberries in a jam jar. That madness would end today.

To enter the building was not an obstacle for him.

“Need help with that bag, Pete?” asked the serving officer straight away. He was a normal stormtrooper and guarded the elevators.

Orson Krennic looked for the man’s ID number. “Nay, Trevor. You would not want to go up there. It is a bit spooky, to be honest. Them spiders weave pretty big nets so close to the dish.”

Laughing, the stormtrooper let him enter the main lift that went straight up to the top.

But Orson Krennic did not stay there for long. After a small detour he was inside the secret chamber that the Emperor had wished for straight after the death of his one and only niece.

He walked straight up to a large clone tank and flattened his nose against its glass. A human being, barely five years old, was slumbering inside. It wore the much younger version of a face that had been dear to him for more than forty years.

“Hello there, sleepy head.” His lips kissed the cool glass, leaving stains. “Time to wakey-wakey!”

But Sleeping Beauty would not open her eyes and smile at him. To wake her up would require a bit more of work from his side.

He checked his chrono and realized that he had exactly forty minutes left. Then Saw Gerrera would set hell loose on the beaches of Scarif. Around that time he hoped to be far away with his precious ward.

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: It was about time, because the Cassandra story has begun already.

@Nehru_Amidala: In the epilogue of "Rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light", the original Nagina story, the possibility of a sequel was already in the making:

Epilogue:

Motionless, Emperor Palpatine sat in his office chair. He was presented with all the known evidence, concerning the death of his niece. At the end of the report, the elderly man turned and gazed out of the double-glazed transparisteel panoramic window.

It was noon in the senatorial district of Coruscant. Billions of people were busy living their lives. It was a bee hive that never slept. The loss of Nagina on far away Lothal meant nothing to most citizens out there.

“Only the good die young,” the Emperor muttered, his mouth line joyless. “Only evil seems to live forever.”

His niece had been a good person. But he would do her the favour not to order state mourning. Nor would he seek out her murderer. She never had been vengeful. There had been no sithly bone in her body. Forgiveness had been essential for her. He would do her this last favour.

“You contacted Commodex Tahn about the details of the funeral service?” he addressed the man who had loved Nagina like a brother, but had failed her as her protector.

“Yes, my Emperor,” said Commander Krennic, still bending his knee. “She had mentioned his name when talking about her mother.”

The old man’s thoughts travelled back to the day, when he had found his half-sister Mandré, a service maid of House Palpatine, in the fireplace room. Her skull had been smashed in with the walking stick of his father Cosinga.

There had been too much violence in Nagina’s life from the very beginning. He wished things could have been much different for her.

“A good choice, you can go through with it.” The elderly man nodded to himself and not towards the kneeling figure in front of him. “I will not attend the funeral service, but I want to pay for it. My personal household cash should be sufficient to cover all the costs.”

Looking ahead of him, the Emperor pondered for a while. Then he switched on a large projection screen. Snap-shots of many individuals showed up, some of them decent citizens, others the lowest scum of the galaxy. Encrypted data flew by.

“You have my blessing to invite those who cared for her, Orson. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, a hundred - I do not care. Contact even some of those bounty hunters, if you must. It is up to you. You organize the entire thing, flower arrangements included. The Anils will have to live with it. She was mine before she came into their care.”

The high ranking officer saluted. “As you wish, my Emperor.”

The chair swung around. “What I really wish for is… argh, never mind, Orson.”

Concern showed on Commander Krennic’s face. “Is there anything to appease you, my Emperor?”

Pale fingers started tapping on the chair arms. “Not really no.”

The old man would never forgive himself that he had not been available to his niece in her hour of need. He temporarily had been beaten by an enemy. Someone whose ambitions he had not taken serious enough.

Suddenly, it was dead silent. “Wait, there is something!” he addressed the high ranking officer.

“Yes, please?”

The Emperor leaned forward, his unhealthy looking eyes burning like twin flames. “You will help me to refit the ruined Jedi Temple into a palace, my palace. But you will not claim the glory for it. This is your penance.”

“Okay.” Commander Krennic looked mollified. “Fair enough.”

The Emperor frowned, a familiar shape catching his eyes. “There is something next to your right code cylinder.” He pointed at the other man’s chest. “What are you carrying with you?”

“I almost forgot about it.” The high ranking officer fumbled around and produced a small metal item. “That blasted creature yucked it up, but I cleaned it for you.”

Irritated, the old man glared at Commander Krennic. And it had nothing to do with the broad Chandrilan accent of the much younger man.

“See, there was that stupid convor. It basically stuck to Ina since Jedha. Used to be very protective about her.”

The Emperor rose in anger. “Why was I not informed before?” he demanded to know. “Convorees are holy animals.”

“Holy? Nay, there is nothing holy about Bathseba, believe me.” Commander Krennic smirked. “She is simply bad news. For some reason she showed up during the coroner’s inquest and puked the heirloom out. As if she was disgusted. She took flight immediately, never looking back at poor Ina.”

The old man listened intensely in the Force. There was a faint heartbeat. It came from within the Sith artefact.

“Give me the brooch!” One of the claw hands opened. “Now!”

Gingerly, the high ranking officer handed the Palpatine heirloom over. “Will that be all? Are we finished now? Can I go home?”

The Emperor kept staring at the trinket with a scary grin. A new option just had opened up unexpectedly. It was too good to be true. He only would need to contact Kamino and do some intense research in his Sith library. “No. I have made up my mind.”

Commander Krennic looked startled. “Is this about my project? Are you going to take it away from me and give it to Tarkin?”

The cruel laughter of the Emperor sounded through the office. “I really should, shouldn’t I?” He stopped and became serious again. “You will build me something else. The palace can wait. What I need from you is… a tower.”

“What?” The high ranking officer blinked.

“I will need a tower on Scarif for keeping things safe. Data files, objects of means, a special medical chamber.” The yellow eyes narrowed. “Show me your true value, Orson. Build me that tower and all will be well.”

Commander Krennic was almost on his way out, when the Emperor started speaking again. But not to him.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down your hair to me.”

Once more laughter filled the office, unsettling and maddening.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel.”

When the high ranking officer turned around, he saw that the old man cradled the brooch like a new born baby. Quickly, he averted his gaze. Mourning had various forms. And Nagina’s demise was still inconceivable. But it would not bring her back to life when he lost his mind about it, too. He needed to go on with his duties. That was what she would have wanted from him.

Trying to look nothing but professional, Commander Krennic hurried past the desk of Dar Wac, a male Rodian. He did not notice the strong smell of perfume that hung in the air. Nor the person who was hiding in the shadows, dressed in expensive robes.

A satisfied smile lay on Sate Pestage’s lips.

Nagina was no more and there were a lot of allies to thank for that. It had been a group effort. Patience always paid out.

Keen on hiding Easter eggs for the things to come, or weaving a web like @earlybird-obi-wan always does with her fics, I also wrote about the actual Sith ritual itself, which is a slight mix of Voodoo & Doctor Frankenstein´s experiments.

The ritual is also a bridge to my made-up Skywalker ancestors. In "Legend of the Force, book 1: Dark adapted eyes", which is seen through the eyes of the royal nanny Isabeau Riwalan, I do mention that the Force-sensitive Ophidea got involved with dark magic & learned to raise the Dead. That hubris lead to a literally Star Wars.

"Book 2: Cauldron-born" tells the story of the Tjiehenet family & Lucien Ankou through the voice of Sionnach O’Conghaile, the clone copy of a still-born baby.

With all this I want to show that obsession about a beloved person, delusions of grandeur, cloning issues and abuse of power are like a read thread through the history of Luke and Leia´s family and that of their closest friends.

@Kahara: I am glad that you had time to take a peak and write such a warm, wonderful comment which I was able to find the day the Fresenius Institute employer is here in our humble flat, showing my husband how to do his PD home dialysis. Thank you! All that you said was a great and welcome distraction from the future garbage issues and holiday planing problems.

This is perhaps why Orson is so feisty and troublesome of late. He is my mouthpiece. Saying all those nasty things I can not.

 

@DarthUncle, @Kahara, @Pandora, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha and @earlybird-obi-wan:


Entry 11, Scarif, personal Revelation Day, postscript:

I will be doomed when I try, but my life will be meaningless if I don’t set Ina’s clone free.

Pete Rayburn might come in handy, but my alter ego alone won’t do. Backup is necessary, plenty of backup. People, I usually would not hire for a job but shoot in the head straight away.

And there must be no tracks. Nothing that will ever lead back to me.

I have to destroy the fruits of my hard work to save the one that I love. It’s as simple as that. Nobody would believe me to be so deranged. Not even the old man on his cold, lonely throne.

Since Ina is gone, I have learned to miss all the little things with which she has enriched my life. Her company, her warmth, not only her physical one.

Yes, her logic was hard to follow at times. And she drove me mad. But that was her, too. I even loved her imperfections.

Will the girl be the same? Sweet and silly? Feisty and frustrating? Empathic and cool as ice, when I do her wrong?

And there are more pressing questions ahead.

Can I stand the pressure of being a father? Can I give up drinking? Oh yes, can I quit smoking?

Imagine that, Orson Callum Krennic, the family man. The lone dad.

But then again, Galen was able to be a father for many years. If he can, then I certainly will qualify. I have always been the better man. More clever and ruthless, when needed.

Plus I have the unique chance to be the only grown-up responsible for the little girl. There will be no missus and I would not want one. Especially not when she is a big mouth like Lyra.

I think a couple of sleepless nights will be ahead of me. There is so much I need to find out before even laying the foundations of my plan.

The Child Protective Services are nothing to be trifled with. I learned that myself when I was a troublesome teenager.

 

Superb entry! Yes, the similarity to Nagina that Cassandra holds is very strong.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, @DarthUncle, @Kahara, @earlybird-obi-wan, @Cowgirl Jedi 1701 & @Nehru_Amidala: the 12st diary entry is here before I am off tomorrow to my girl weekend with @Cem_Fel:


Entry 12, Scarif, a new day has come:

Children are the future. That is what Ina believed in throughout her life, even though she was not able to get some of her own. What her own grandfather did to her in that wine cellar when she was but three years old left her scarred for life.

Many years ago Sheev Palpatine made sure that I would find an illegal copy of that hospital report. He knew that it would bind me to her forever more. How well he knows me. But he was not able to foresee the future. He also sucks profoundly realizing the power of love.

What Ina gave to me as a helpless baby boy cannot be measured in any way. Not even tons of kyber crystals could pay for it. And I am not talking about the small pebbles the Jedi had in their weapons, but about the big lumps.

This galaxy needs more than my battle star. It needs somebody like my Ina. The clone will not be her. It will have a life and will of its own. A new destiny. I cannot rebuild the woman that was. But I can help to be the solid foundation for a sweet child. It will not be a snotty brat like Jyn Erso. Not when I am involved.

Tarkin regards me as a kind of shady builder. Well, I am a man who believes in quality work and character building. It is a bit sad that not many will be allowed to share my little miracle with me. The less, the better.

Too many people were informed about Ina, even though they were sidetracked about her true importance for the Emperor. They thought her to be his cast-off lover, a plaything.

Well, I will hide the little darling girl out in the open at a point, but for the first years of her life she will need a safe harbour, a home base so to speak. No dusty attics, no other crazy hiding places.

Adopting her will give her the loving environment she needs to thrive. I just need something terrible to do. With somebody else's child. The clone and the other girl need to swap places at a certain point. There has to be a murder even, if necessary.

But well, I killed in the line of work. I even have the permission to murder and to maim. I beg that it will not be such tough work to get my substitute in line.

 

Terrific reflections and Cassie indeed is her own lovable and loving vivacious self, not simply a "copy" of Nagina.

Congratulations on completing this diary

Even though RL can be a beastie for you, you still manage to grace us with unforgettable posts!


!!

 

Orson is nasty, planning a murder

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha & @earlybird-obi-wan: Thanks for following this diary bravely. Entry 12 was the last entry as I told @Kahara via PM. I am not sure if I find the time to do another one. But the challenge that @Pandora made together with Kahara is really nice nice. It makes me glad that I had some kind replies.

 

First of all, congratulations on finishing the diary! It’s been quite a journey to see how the grieving Orson from the beginning of this tale makes his way towards becoming the dedicated single parent in your Cassie stories. As always, you make him a terrifying person and an emotionally complex one, and neither of those things cancels out the other.

Orson makes for an angry mourner in earlier entries -- which comes as a surprise to no one who knows him. It’s a very difficult situation for him, when his emotional life kind of centered around his obsession with Nagina. He’s very lost in those early entries, and it makes a lot of sense that he immediately latches on to the idea of this clone child -- someone that he can center his world around and not just ruminate on his loss. It was a relief to me that he didn’t assume that the two would be one and the same, and that (as was often the case with Nagina) he has more concern for the clone than one might expect from his usual attitude.

Of course, then the ending threw me for a loop -- though it probably shouldn’t, knowing how his mind works.

Spoiler

Silly me, I thought the shadiness was going to involve some kind of weird identity theft situation and not outright child murder. What was I thinking? It’s always murder with him. When the only tool you have is a hammer... Yikes. Poor kiddo, and poor Cassie if and when she ever finds out. She’s enough like Nagina that I think I can safely say she would not be okay with that AT ALL.

All in all, a really interesting and complex look into the mind of a character that I would not have thought much about without your fics.

 

As always, you make him a terrifying person and an emotionally complex one, and neither of those things cancels out the other.

@Kahara: You did a nice summery of Orson´s character, but he could never murder a child. He indeed prepares for the deed if necessary, but then fate helps him out and he feels sorry. Here is the link for the actual fic. It is very short.