Now, with both in abundance, she was crawling back to it, to re-earn the respect she deserved and put an end to the infuriating internal tantrums.
Across from her, the egg started to rattle in its incubator.
...
Oh, Tan'ya must have unsettled it with her thoughts. Quickly she tried to reassert peace and put it back to sleep, but in open defiance of her mental suggestion, a crack spread down the surface of the egg. Tan'ya gaped as after months of incubation, the tirra'taka finally began to hatch.
Really? She thought, feeling a stab of annoyance. Right now, when everything was going on and she was just about to go to bed, the egg finally started to hatch? With a sigh, Tan'ya hopped out of bed, shoved her toes into a pair of slippers, and quickly brought up the sith's notes on Tirra'taka ecology.
In the wild, an adult would never help the hatchling leave its egg. If it wasn't able to pierce its own shell, then it was too weak to be worth raising, and the Sith saw no reason to do anything different. After it was free of the shell, the exhausted hatchling would be fed by its mother, and immediately go to sleep. The Sith had found a simple egg soup that was quite easily digestible for the new births, so Tan'ya got out her communicator and sent the recipe to the kitchen staff along with instructions to bring her a bowl of it.
Once the egg hatched, Tan'ya finally got to see the little menace herself, after having to look after it for so long. As a youngling, it looked less like the clawed and spined black beast described in the text, but more like a hybrid between a scaly river eel and a piglet. Its face had a protruding snout with two large nostrils that twitched with each breath, and a small tooth-like point at its tip. The only part of it that resembled a traditional dragon at all were the wings that were much larger than the rest of its body, which scattered shards of egg shells across the floor as the hatchling shook them. It reminded Tan'ya of a house cat as it stretched and yawned, both in size and mannerism.
Once it was cleaned, she fed it the soup, making sure to sip from it first. The Tirra'taka in the wild would be fed from their mother's mouths, so hopefully seeing Tan'ya eat first would signal to her that she was offering food. Finally, when it was done eating and happy to go to bed, it would sleep under its mother's wing. According to the notes, Tirra'taka whelps did not thermoregulate properly early on, and needed another Force-sensitive to keep them warm and calm while they slept. If neglected at this stage, they would die, so even though the old sith despised the weakness of the creatures, he still would allow them to sleep with their parent during the first week of their existence. If the mother was unavailable, then another force sensitive would have to serve as substitute.
Tan'ya went to bed with the little reptile curled up next to her, wondering what gender it was; the sith, unconcerned with his eventual warbeast's gender, left no instructions on how to determine that for herself.
With a final bemused sigh at the little creature pulling her arm over it, Tan'ya finally went to bed for the night.
In the morning, Tan'ya made to stand up and go about her business, but hesitated. How would the young creature react to being abandoned? Reaching out with her mind, she found her younger sister just beginning to wake up, and tried calling to her through the Force.
To Tan'ya's relief, her sister almost immediately rushed over. The two younger force sensitives seemed to recognise each other as soon as Madalee entered her room.
With an excitedly shrill cry of "Eggy!", Madalee rushed over, gaping at the dragon with open mouthed wonderment. "It hatched!" She barely even glanced at Tan'ya, her eyes shining. "You're so so cute! You hatched!"
Tan'ya didn't know if the dragon was as cute as her sister claimed - she personally thought it had an ugly little face. Regardless of its physical or aesthetic qualities, the hatchling definitely seemed to recognise Madalee, licking her outstretched hand happily, before proceeding to nuzzle itself against her ankles.
Tan'ya quickly skimmed through the sith's notes, finding no mention of such a behaviour in his original subjects. Maybe it was a kind of scent marking?
Either way, with the two of them watching over each other, Tan'ya was free to pursue military matters unhindered.
With Colonel Gon Seith injured, she had to pick up his slack ever since the battle of Serenno, making sure everything was running smoothly. It was only thanks to the near miraculous technology of bacta that he was able to return to service now, after only a few days spent on recovery.
"Glad to see you're doing well, Colonel." Tan'ya regarded him. "How's the hand?"
"Still a bit stiff." The man grimaced, showing her the new metal fingers and parts of the palm that replaced his lower hand. "Damned bad luck. If it had been hit cleanly, I'd replace the whole thing. Now it's not as strong as durasteel, nor as flexible as flesh."
"You can of course take more time off if you need it-"
Colonel Seith cut her off, grimacing as he shook his head. "I'd rather be here, ma'am."
The man was nothing if not a professional, despite his gruff exterior. Tan'ya respected that. "Very well. What's first today?"
"The Mandalorian, ma'am. That armorer you requested is here."
Ah, that. "I hadn't expected him to arrive so soon."
Though Tan'ya would have loved the chance to manufacture armor for her House Guards locally, using local talent and techniques, in this case expedience trumped her desire to develop Serenno's economy. If the pirate attack had convinced her of anything, it was that her soldiers needed blaster resistant armor now.
If the Mandalorian forgemaster could craft just a dozen sets of armor before the operation on Phindar began, then it would be worth his exorbitant price. She had spoken briefly with him over the holocom; forsaking a name in favour of the title of Armourer, he was a part of some strange cult that lived on Mandalore's moon, and refused to ever take off his helmet.
Though he and his people were desperate for credits, he refused to forge or sell beskar to Serenno. It all seemed like religious nonsense to Tan'ya, but if he was able to produce suits of sacanium armor, she was willing to overlook his cultish behaviour.
"Well, tell him to get started right away." Tan'ya said, giving Gon a questioning look when he didn't immediately move to comply.
"He'll have to take your measurements, Your Highness."
"Very well." She said, and Gon called the man in.
The measuring didn't take long. The armorer didn't say a word to her, using a rod marked with small indentations to get the length of her wrists, upper arms, and various other body parts. He didn't seem to take notes, but Tan'ya presumed he was recording the information inside his helmet.
As the Mandalorain was leaving, Captain Hoves stepped into Tan'ya's office. Compared to his usual expression, carefully neutral with a hint of a smile, he looked at his commander with something like disbelief.
"Your Highness." He greeted her after a moment, saluting.
"Is something wrong, Captain?" Tan'ya asked him.
"...No, not wrong your highness." He glanced at Gon, then back to Tan'ya. "The Palace Staff are swapping rumors with the Guard. They're saying that… you gave birth to the Tirra'taka's child?"
Tan'ya stared at the man, befuddled. What kind of rumors were those? Of course she didn't lay a bloody egg! "I didn't give birth to it, Hoves. It is a Tirra'taka's egg that my father decided we should raise."
Hoves stared at her, like he could scarcely understand her perfectly rational explanation.
"...I know how it sounds." Tan'ya said. For the last thousand years of Serenno's history, the Beast That Held the World Together was the singular Tirra'taka of this world. "But I believe it is the child of the Tirra'taka of legend."
Hoves stared at her like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, and she couldn't help feeling embarrassed. To him she must have sounded like she was losing her mind. Back in Japan, Tan'ya would have treated someone similarly if they claimed to have met the real Bamboo Cutter and the Moonchild.
Trying to move the conversation along, Tan'ya continued, "If it's becoming a disciplinary issue, then of course you should correct the rumors at your own discretion."
"...Yes, Your Highness." Hoves finally replied, giving a slightly stiff salute. He almost seemed dazed as he left the office.
Poor fellow. Tan'ya wondered what she would have to do to regain his confidence after that embarrassing talk. She turned to see Gon watching the man leave, a worried frown on his face.
"Is something wrong?" She asked.
"…No, I suppose not ma'am."
"Well, let's get to the rest of the day's business, then. We've got a big event coming, and we must be ready for it."
...
Apparently, chapters write themselves faster when Power Stones are involved. Who knew? Feel free to test the theory go ahead, toss a few my way.
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