Clone Wars Campaign Recap Extra: "Teacher's Pet"

After the previous session, a few months passed before the campaign got underway again--the longest break we've ever had. To help pass the time, my sig-other decided to write some short stories about Arresta to help position the character a little differently for the next big story arc. Her first effort, which I consider canon for the campaign, I've titled Teacher's Pet. Before I post it, she has a few comments:

"Soap Operas are a great source of inspiration for RPG characters (not adapting the character completely - more letting them be the "muse" for a character's appearance, temperament, etc). When I needed a mysterious, powerful figure from Arresta's past, I settled on my favourite soap character of all time- Stefan Cassadine. Since I had no apprehension that the recaps or anything else would one day find their way on-line, I decided to keep the name the same. Therefore, anyone familiar with GH who finds their way here, shouldn't confuse the Stefan they know with them one in this game - beyond physical description and certain personality traits..."


TEACHER'S PET


Arresta walked through the door of her luxury apartment with a sense of relief. Another intelligence mission finished, albeit with less than complete success. Tossing her baggage (which mostly consisted of weaponry) aside, she glanced around the empty room. It felt cavernous.

With a rueful smile, she remembered how angry she had been, the day of the trial when she had returned home. She had ordered the protocol droid to change the lock codes immediately and had stormed into the second bedroom with every intention of gathering up Tarn’s belongings and pitching them over the edge of the balcony. Unfortunately, he had precious few possessions and she’d had to settle for shipping them off to the Jedi, deciding that a temper tantrum, while satisfying, would not ultimately be beneficial.

It galled her to admit that she’d been played for a fool by anyone – especially by someone she had thought she was manipulating. “We have a special connection, Princess.” Only a complete idiot would have fallen for that line. Bad enough, that she’d given in to her hormonal impulses (she was only human) and let him talk her into bed, but she had to admit that she actually believed he cared about her….had worried that she might hurt him!

Having changed into simple exercise gear made of a soft grey synthetic fabric, Arresta turned her attention to her punching bag. She carefully wrapped her hands and stood back, relaxing her shoulders before launching into a series of exercises. She’d gone into this situation thinking that she was in control – she still wasn’t sure how that had changed.

The intelligence missions had certainly helped to take the edge off her unhappiness. It was amazing how much satisfaction could be had through pure, unadulterated action. Besides, time off planet had helped to clear her head and given her the distance she’d needed. She was still angry – but as much with herself as with Tarn.

She should have known that all of Tarn’s talk about goodness and justice was just a clever façade, fabricated to provide him with an advantage –and likely no end of willing bed-mates. She could respect a good manipulation – no one grew up in the political intrigue of the royal palace without gaining an appreciation for that – but she loathed his wide-eyed refusal to admit that anything had happened between them. And using that pathetically weak Jedi code as the excuse? That she couldn’t forgive.

She delivered a final kick with emphasis and stood back in satisfaction. The sudden rush of dizziness therefore caught her by surprise – and it was only through force of will that she stayed on her feet. Carefully making her way over to a chair, she sank down and was nearly overcome by a wave of nausea. Perhaps she had picked up some sort of bug while she was gallivanting around that smuggler’s ship in disguise?

With a grimace she hauled herself to her feet and went into the bedroom to change. She would stop by the medical bay that her intelligence contact had recommended. Most likely, she had come down with a touch of something that would require an inoculation.

Hours later, when she returned to her suite, she again sought the support of the chair to help keep her from falling. She knew now that there was at least one thing more inconvenient than picking up a minor virus.

Arresta D’Avalos, tabloid darling, novice spy and wandering noble, was undeniably pregnant with the next heir to the throne of Mongui. Overcome by another wave of nausea, the Princess sprinted to the refresher. Holding her hair back while she emptied her stomach she decided that the next time she saw Tarn Tamarand she might just kill him. Bloody Jedi.
---------------------------------------
Seventy-two paces. That was exactly how many steps it took to cross the floor of Arresta’s apartment. She had pinpointed the number over the course of three days worth of aimlessly walking the floor. Ignoring all calls (mostly from the press, inquiring about her future plans now that she had been proven innocent), she had moped, paced and pondered what to do now.

She had never felt so alone – which struck her as ironic, given her condition. She reflected that there had actually been very few times in her life to actually be alone. A palace is an opulent, but dangerous place to grow up in – always full of people, but few a young girl could trust to look out for much beyond their own interest. Of course back then, she had her family to count on – her mother, father and even her sister had made the royal palace a pleasant place to grow up in. Still, she had absolutely no desire to see her father or her sister again.

Since leaving Mongui she had been surrounded by people – it was only now, after the trial that she was truly on her own. It struck Arresta to the core that even those who did know her – her father, her sister, even her “friends” here on Coruscant – knew at best only a part of her. Well, whatever else happened, she was determined that things would be different with the baby – they would have an honest relationship, if it killed her. She would make a new start – shedding the old life and starting a new one.

Arresta flipped idly through some old holo-net images, with her own picture smiling in several of them – every inch the proper princess. She was certainly breaking out of the “proper” path – and she had no intention of retreating. If her life was going in wildly different directions than expected, she would just see where these choices took her.

She smiled, a bit sadly, ruefully admitting that if nothing else, she now had proof that she hadn’t imagined her affair with the Jedi – that she was right and he was wrong. Right or not though, an unmarried pregnant princess was going to attract attention – especially with her habit for tripping into the limelight.

Pausing in front of a large standing mirror she tried to imagine how she would look in a few months. The current fashion for gowns favoured high waists, but that would only provide temporary camouflage. Really, it was only a matter of time before people realized she was expecting. Which would lead to questions as to the identity of the father – questions she had no intention of answering. Far better if she left Coruscant and traveled somewhere far away from prying eyes – and where she could keep any news of this away from Tarn Tamarand. If she had her way, he would never know he had “left anything behind” when he walked out of her life. She did hate to leave this planet – she enjoyed her intelligence work and the few friends she’d managed to make.

As bitter as she was at Tarn, she couldn’t place the blame for this pregnancy on him alone. She’d allowed him to tumble her and, at least the night of the ball, they’d taken no precautions. But, she could see no benefit from going to him with this news. As it was, she had heard nothing from him for days, ever since he returned with Master Creen to the Jedi temple.

She still hated to think of Tarn as being the sort of person who would deliberately hurt her, but she could see no other explanation. She’d been so stupid not to see his real agenda, but she had been so worried and lonesome….But, whatever had happened between them physically, there was nothing that would have compelled him to declare his love, or to make promises of any kind. No, any of the things he’d said over the course of those weeks had come from him alone – and that was a cruelty that she hadn’t expected.

Considering that, she doubted the child would matter to him and at any rate, what purpose would be served by telling him? Just one more chance to be rejected, or to create more chaos and confusion. Besides, as he had repeatedly proclaimed, practically while climbing out of her bed, Jedi were allowed no attachments. If that included lovers, she was certain it would extend to the results of such an indiscretion.

Arresta felt a momentary pang of guilt. It was hard to imagine Tarn being so cold. But, even if he did care for the baby, he might change his mind at any time –and she wasn’t about to risk him doing to her child what he had done to her.

The incessant buzzing of her comm-link finally broke through her reverie and captured her attention. Deciding she could use some distraction, she picked up the message, expecting another interview offer from a paparazzo looking for a headline. It was one line of text and a set of coordinates. “Meet me here – need to see you.”

She told herself she wasn’t going to go. Why should it matter what Tarn had to say? He had humiliated and abandoned her – there was no reason to listen to anything he had to tell her. She told herself that while she changed her clothes three times, while she circled the block in her rented air-car, hesitating to enter the restaurant the coordinates had indicated. She even continued to think she was going to turn around as she walked in and gave her name to the hostess, who escorted her to a table in the back.

Seeing the figure seated at the table took her breath away. It had been a while since they’d stood face to face, but she was still surprised at the shot of desire that ran through her at the sight of his face. He looked perfect, from head to toe and the way he was looking at her, with just the hint of a wry grin, erased any bitterness she may have felt at their parting.

She had her arms around him before she was even aware that she had moved. When they broke apart, he kept one strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and she smiled up at him.

“I take it you missed me.” He voice was rich and mellow, with a warmth she knew was for her alone.

“I did.” She still smiled but she knew her cheeks were wet with tears she hadn’t quite realized she was crying. “I did miss you, Stefan.”
--------------------------------------------
Having taken a few moments alone to compose herself, under the pretense of “freshening up”, Arresta did her best to appear calm and collected – for at least ten minutes. It didn’t take longer than that for Stefan to make it clear he knew how calamitous her life had been lately.

He’d been quietly smug when discussing her father’s betrayal, which was to be expected. He had long ago told her that she was making a mistake in placing her loyalty to her father above her own life. At the time, she’d felt it was important to follow her duty to her people…now, it seemed incredibly foolish.

When discussing her trial for murder, he’d laughed and shrugged dismissively. “You would never have been so sloppy.” That warmed her, a little – she’d actually thought that herself, a time or two.

She’d blushed furiously when he’d produced a copy of that ridiculous holovid image of Tarn kissing her on the balcony of her apartment. But, Stefan had merely looked at her and said “Involving yourself with the Jedi, Darling? That seems a bit ambitious – not to mention risky.”

Arresta managed to stammer out some semblance of the truth – the Jedi had summoned her from Mongui, that they’d been on a mission to Ansion and then forcibly escorted back here. “Truthfully, I’m considering leaving Coruscant.”

Stefan had smiled and leaned down to kiss her. When she came back to herself – his kisses had always had that effect on her – and realized that somehow, she was practically sitting in his lap and that for some time, his strong hands had been caressing her back and arms – she saw a familiar glint in his eye. He whispered in her ear. “Now Darling, that is absolutely fascinating – what say we head back to your apartment and discuss it?”

They stood up and moved to the door. Stefan was already regaling her with the tale of his latest adventures – clients and those he had “serviced” kept strictly anonymous of course – but Arresta was distracted. Walking past the other tables, with a variety of dishes laid out for the gastronomic delight of many races, she had fought down a now familiar rush of nausea. She had been so happy to see Stefan. For a few moments she had forgotten everything but the fact that he was really there, beside her. How could she tell him what a mess she’d made of things?

By the time they entered her apartment, the mood had begun to sour. Stefan had already suggested – twice – that Arresta should leave Coruscant with him. He was rather piqued at her continued quiet declarations that she was not ready to do that.

He seemed to think that romance would sway her and used a passionate kiss as prelude to asking her a third time to “return to the life that she should be leading”. There was a familiar, stubborn set to his jaw. Sadly, she ran her thumb along his strong chin and attempted to hold onto her resolve. “I can’t do that”.

His temper finally slipped. “Why the blazes not?”

“Because I’m pregnant!” There – the dreaded words had escaped and seemed to hang in the air.

Startled, Stefan took a step back – but he kept a firm grip on her arms. For a long moment he looked at her in consternation. When he spoke, it was in a quiet, clipped tone. “The young Jedi you’ve been gallivanting around with?”

She nodded, flushed with the shame of having this conversation with the man she once fantasized about running away with. She braced for the onslaught.

“I can’t believe you were this careless. We taught you better than that! This is what comes from following your loyalties and leaving the Guild – when you try to exercise your talent for manipulation you launch yourself into more trouble than you were in to begin with!”

She looked at him in some surprise. This wasn’t going exactly as she would have expected. He continued his diatribe.

“Really Arresta – sticking your nose into Jedi business, running around with Republic Intelligence – you should be smarter than this. You always did swear you’d do anything to complete a mission – I’d have thought you would have been clever enough to come up with something other than a fake romance. Clearly the fool boy isn’t in the picture now or you wouldn’t have invited me back here. I can’t imagine what advantage you thought you were going to gain. Does he know?”

She shook her head, irked that Stefan was so dismissive of her, not bothering to correct his assertions. He wasn’t entirely wrong – she certainly had intended her flirtations with Tarn to help her gather information for the trial – but the fact that Stefan was this convinced that she couldn’t possibly have any romantic interest in another man was bothersome.

She opened her mouth to reply, but he laid a finger across her lips. “Don’t say anything, pet – there’s really nothing more to add.” With that, he turned and swept out the doorway. Overwhelmed, she sank onto a bench and told herself that men were impossible – and tonight she’d allow herself a good cry after she went to bed. Slowly she rose and moved to change her clothes, thinking how bitter a pill it was to find Stefan again only to lose him so rapidly.

She was surprised then, when her door chimes rang an hour later and Stefan strode inside. Thinking he had returned to castigate her again she didn’t notice the ring he was holding in his hand until he held it up to her face.

“Stefan…….what is this?” She noticed that in the evening light, the ring shone with a brilliant fire – but she couldn’t imagine this was what she thought it was.

He looked somewhat surprised that she felt the need to ask. “It is what it looks like. You and I have always been at our best when we’re together. As far as I’m concerned, nothing about that has changed, except that we’ll move things along a little more formally than I’d expected. You’ll marry me and as far as you, I or the galaxy are concerned – the child will be mine.”

“You can’t really mean that!” After she’d returned to Mongui from her training, she’d often fantasized that she and Stefan would one day marry and travel the galaxy – at the time, they’d been silly dreams that she’d known could never be realized.

“I always mean what I say Arresta – you should know that. My passion has always been my work, but lately, I find my enthusiasm is lacking. I’ve been pondering that for a good while and I had come to the conclusion that you were the problem. Or rather, that your absence was the problem. I let you go once, because your duty compelled you to chase after some silly notion of family loyalty. Don’t ask me to let you go again.”

“But…..how…..” She couldn’t seem to think straight.

“We’ll simply marry immediately and in a few weeks we’ll announce we are expecting. When the time comes, we’ll claim that the child has arrived a few weeks early.”

She felt overwhelmed. Here, in one moment, he was presenting the solutions to all of her problems. It was too good to be true. “I don’t…..I don’t know….”

He pulled her close and kissed her, closing the ring into her palm by wrapping his own hands around hers. “Marry me.” He kissed her again and she felt her resistance crumbling. “Marry me and start over.”

Arresta took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. She looked into Stefan’s eyes. “When do we leave?”
------------------------------------------
Scarcely a day later, Arresta stood in the elegantly appointed room that had been set aside for her bridal preparations. Putting the final touches on her make-up and upswept hair, she admired the effect of the thinly braided golden chain across her brow, with the deep sapphire marriage stone dangling from it. A little touch of home, even though she was far away, and far beyond Mongui, now.

She was quite impressed with the location Stefan had chosen for their wedding. They were guests at a small resort, highly favoured by the wealthy and elite, on a minor planet not far from Coruscant. In just a few short moments, she would walk down the beach and join Stefan and the minister who would perform the ceremony.

In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of Stefan’s wedding gift, sitting where she had unwrapped it. Two silver plated blaster pistols, custom designed for her, each engraved with the phrase “Kill’em dead, baby”. She had laughed when she opened them. Stefan had exquisite taste – and he was making it clear that even though she had held to her determination not to return to the Guild – that he wasn’t giving up hope.

She was very pleased with the dress she’d managed to find, on such short notice. A silk gown made of a blue so icy pale it seemed almost white, with a high neckline in front, offset by a plunging open back. The effect was rather flattering, especially when paired with the shimmering veil tucked into her hair and sweeping the floor at her heels. In another tradition of Mongui, the veil did not cover her face but hung from only behind her – to symbolize that she was walking into this marriage with her eyes open.

She reached around to close the last fasteners at the small of her back, and for a moment her fingers fumbled and she was somewhere else. That night, her dress had been red and she’d had to ask for help. She recalled warm hands on her back and lips against her neck. The same hands that had helped her to put on the dress had later helped her to remove it…

She remembered the glow she had felt at being the focus of so much attention. At how well they had worked together to piece together the mystery of who was framing them. She remembered the way he had brushed her hair from her face – and warm words that had frightened her and thrilled her at the same time.

“Princess - The only order I would ever refuse would be to stop loving you.”

Shaking herself back into the present, Arresta scowled at her reflection irritably and muttered angrily when she noticed tell-tale tear stains in her make-up. She focused on obtaining perfection and ruthlessly quashed any further pangs. She had to forget that night had ever happened – that any of those nights had ever happened. The past was full of lies. It was the future that was important and Stefan was her future.

Thinking of her betrothed brought up other, equally concerning thoughts. She couldn’t deny her feelings for him, but she had more than herself to consider now. Was she making the right choice, binding herself and her child to a man that could be considerably more than dangerous?

Tarn would never approve. The thought flashed through her mind before she could stop it. It was true – nothing would have upset the Jedi more than to imagine a man of Stefan’s character raising his child. Perhaps oddly, that thought strengthened her intention to go through with it.

Stefan made her feel appreciated – and wanted. He was willing to go out on a limb for her, just to prove how much she mattered. He would never pretend that nothing had ever happened between them.

It was time to make a new beginning. She vowed to herself that she would forget Tarn Tamarand completely – just as he had forgotten about her.

With one last glance at her reflection, Arresta glided out of the room to complete the ceremony that would join her with Stefan and make her, officially and forevermore, Princess Arresta Augustine Eugenie D’Avalos Cassadine. She didn’t look back.
---------------
Return to Clone Wars Campaign Main Page