In orbit above the planet formerly known as Coruscant, Crown Prince Isolder stood with his arms clasped behind him and looked out the viewports of the Hapan Nova-class cruiser under his command, whistling appreciatively. Not at the vast armada hanging in orbit between the two planets in front of him, although that was impressive enough. No, it was the other planet at the center of this loose defensive formation that really impressed him: Zonoma Sekot. When he had heard that the Skywalkers were going on a search for a 'living planet', he scoffed at their flight of fancy. Planets do not just 'go into hiding', as Luke had put it.

Now, looking at the proof before him, he was forced to admit that Skywalker was right: apparently planets CAN up and hide. Shaking his head, he made a mental note to pay Calrissian the one hundred credits they had bet. He should have known better than to bet against the Jedi.

The middle-aged blonde man turned his attention back to the assembled armada out his viewport, visually searching for her ship. He knew it to be a futile gesture, of course, there were some three-hundred-odd ships out there and from this distance pretty much every ship looks the same: a grey blob against a black background. Still, it would be nice to know where she was.

From behind him came an embarrassed-sounding voice, the communications officer clearly reluctant to intrude on his thoughts. "Prince Isolder?" She waited for him to turn his head slightly in acknowledgement, "We have been hailed by the Dathomiri cruiser Jeanne D'Arc." The Ensign allowed a tone of confusion to enter her voice, "She is asking for you personally."

Isolder smiled as he turned to walk back to his command console, the communications officer keeping pace beside him. Even having not seen each other in years, his wife still could sense his mood. "I'll take it." He looked over at the young Ensign, "Forward it to my station, if you will."

"Certainly sir." With that, she hustled back to her console to make the necessary connection.

As Isolder settled into the command chair, a small holo flickered into view to the right of the console's main status screen. Even in holographic form, he had to admit that his wife still managed to make his heart skip a beat. "Hello, Teneniel. Are you ready for the party?" He asked nodding his head in the direction of the viewports to the armada assembled around them.

Her lovely chuckle brought a smile to his face, "I would not miss this. You know how us Dathomiri like to kick people in the shebs."

The Hapan prince could not stop a bark of laughter from erupting, earning him several odd looks from the surrounding officers on the bridge. Shaking his head as he composed himself, he supposed it was not every day that he got to hear a Dathomiri witch use Mandalorian slang. Looking back at the transmitter, "I do."

For a long moment, neither one said anything; it was if both of them were afraid of starting a conversation. Finally, before the silence became too awkward, Teneniel asked quietly, "Do you have time to meet for lunch?" Even through a radio transmission, Isolder could hear the hopefulness in her voice.

Nodding, he smiled warmly, "Of course. My place or yours?"

Teneniel's look of relief at his answer confused him greatly. Did she really think that he would turn her down? As he pondered her reaction, he realized that he had missed part of her response. "...be best." His wife's image looked around, obviously checking her bridge to see if anyone was paying attention to her conversation. Leaning forward, she whispered, "You did not get this from me, but Dathomiri cuisine leaves a lot to be desired."

This time, the Crown Prince managed to choke back his laughter. As he mimed zipping his lips together, he shot her a wink, "Mum's the word." He looked over at the chrono and saw the ship's time was 11:30. As if on cue, his stomach began to rumble. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to his wife, trying to remember if Dathomir was an hour ahead or an hour behind Hapes. In most navies, the tradition was to keep the ship's time was set to 'home' time until the fleet was established in one position. Since both the Hapan and Dathomiri fleets had only just arrived, both were operating according to their 'local' time. Isolder shook his head in annoyance; either way, Teneniel was probably as hungry as he was. "Is thirty minutes enough time?"

Her brown eyes sparkled with mirth, they both knew that she treated life as a 'come as you are' event. "That will be sufficient."

_(_)_

After signing off with his wife, Isolder leaned back in his chair, lost in his thoughts. It had been far too long since he had seen his wife. Only after talking to her now did he fully understand just how lonely he had been for the last couple of years. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair as he decided that he would just have to make the most of the time they were allowed. Dathomiri cuisine leaves a lot to be desired. He allowed a small smile as Teneniel's comment sounded in his mind; he might not be able to change much, but he could make sure that they ate well.

Leaning forward in his chair, he made a call to the galley. After the man at the other end answered, "Hi Chief. What are the odds you could make some jambalaya in thirty minutes? Enough for two?"

Down in the ship's galley, Chief Petty Officer Skarsg?rd frowned slightly at the request. He had served on the Drogon since its commissioning, and could not actually remember Prince Isolder making a different request for lunch, so there must be something special going on for him to ask for a different meal. If it was important enough for his boss to ask, it was important enough to do well, hence the small frown. "I can, but forty-five minutes would really make it taste better."

Isolder considered this for a second before nodding in agreement, "Fair enough. Are there any profiteroles left over from last night?"

This garnered a chuckle from the twenty-two-year Navy man, as he said wryly, "For you, I think we can scrounge some up." He paused for a second, thinking that if his boss was asking for a meal for two, he probably wanted to eat alone. "Do you want me to bring it to your cabin?"

The older man smiled at the other's perceptiveness, "Nah, the Officer's mess will be fine."

Chief Skarsg?rd nodded, "Very good, sir."

_(_)_

As he stood watching Teneniel's small shuttle land gracefully in the cavernous hangar bay, he allowed a smile as the butterflies in his stomach intensified. Unconsciously wiping his hands on his regulation dark blue Navy trousers, it occurred to him that he should not be acting like a nervous teenager before his first date. He and Teneniel were married for crying out loud; their daughter was twenty.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, the Crown Prince of Hapes took a few steps forward as the shuttle's access ramp started to lower. After a painful couple of moments where it seemed that nothing was happening, Isolder finally heard footsteps coming from the shuttle's passenger compartment and tried to affect a casual 'parade rest' stance despite the fact that he could practically feel his heart hammer away in his chest. The footsteps emanating from the shuttle changed tone and he watched as a pair of black lizard-hide calf boots became a knee-length maroon skirt became a shapely ecru sleeveless blouse became the still lovely face of his wife of twenty-two years.

As he stepped forward to give her the customary Hapan greeting of kissing both cheeks, it occurred to him that she still managed to give him goose bumps. "Welcome aboard the Drogon, Teneniel."

The auburn-haired Dathormiri smiled warmly as she returned the Hapan greeting, a glint of mischief in her brown eyes, "Thank you for having me. How is our ship holding up?"

Shortly before the Vong invaded Hapes one of Teneniel's last Royal acts was to christen the HMS Drogon, one of the four newest Nova-class cruisers. Her and Isolder had intended it to be their flagship, and had named the new cruiser after the pet dragon belonging to a mythical clan-leader of the Singing Mountain Clan.

Isolder gave her a knowing look and grimaced slightly as he offered his arm in a show of gallantry, leading their way out of the hangar. "I must confess that I have been loathe to risk our ship, so she has been limited to routine patrol duty." Seeing Teneniel's admonishing look, he held up his hands in surrender, "I know, I know, I shouldn't be attached to a ship." Looking at his wife out of the corner of his eye, he added drily, "Apparently, I've spent too much time around the Solos."

Teneniel said nothing as she looped her arm through his again, shooting him a look that seemed to say, You think? As the pair made their way to the galley, neither of the pair said anything for a time, content to be just close to each other again.

Making a left-turn onto another corridor, Isolder risked a glance over at his favorite witch; "You look good, by the way," meaning it. Until now, he never realized just how badly Palace life had worn on his wife. When she had abdicated, she looked tired, beat down. The last two years back on Dathomir had revived her; she had regained her inner strength and the sparkle was back in her lovely brown eyes.

Teneniel smiled at the compliment. Perhaps it was simply a reaction to his mother, or just a product of being in Court his whole life, but Isolder had long ago mastered the art of being able to compliment people without sounding smarmy. In a system full of flattery, he had always been sincere. It was one of the things she loved most about him. Her eyes ran over his form as she opened her mouth to return the compliment. "Thank you. You look..." she paused, as a small frown formed and her voice became concerned, "...a little tired."

Isolder snorted a mirthless laugh as he stopped in the middle of the corridor. "I am tired." He paused and leaned against the far wall, letting out a deep breath. "Our daughter is not doing my nerves any favors." Teneniel's look grew alarmed and he continued before she could interrupt, "Unfortunately, she takes after you and feels the need to be in the thick of things."

Once again, the former Queen smiled, both at the way Tenel Ka refused to be tied to the Palace, and the way Isolder was clearly worried about her safety. "That's my girl."

The blond man rolled his eyes sadly at the pride evident in his wife's voice, "Yeah." His voice turned thoughtful, "The troops love her and I've received numerous letters from families who have lost daughters and sons." He paused for a second and Isolder's stoic fa?ade cracked, allowing Teneniel to see the pain that was tearing apart his soul. His voice cracking slightly, Isolder continued, "They all appreciate that their Queen is out there risking her life, just like their kids were; that their loss meant something." The Crown Prince of Hapes took a deep breath to regain his emotions, nervously running a hand through his hair, "Still...if something were to happen to her..." He trailed off, thinking back to the preliminary after-action report he had received earlier from the massive fleet engagement over Mon Calamari. Even though admirals have a tendency to understate the actual danger, it was pretty clear from the report that Tenel Ka's ship, the Flames of Dathomir II, had taken a lot of damage and was lucky to survive the battle.

Suddenly, Teneniel realized what he was trying to get at; even though he was extremely proud what Tenel Ka was doing, he also worried about the future of Hapes. Worry evident in her brown eyes, she took a step across the corridor and grasped her husband's hands. If something were to happen to their daughter, Hapes would be thrown into turmoil, as all of the Noble Houses would be certain to fight amongst one another for control of the Crown. Closing her eyes, she could see the chaos that would likely ensue: years of another civil war, followed by a return of the barbaric ways of Ta'a Chume. All of the reforms they had managed to get passed over the last twenty years would be for naught. Opening her eyes, she gave her husband's hands a sympathetic squeeze; he was right to be worried. "I'll talk to her before she can..."

Shaking his head, Isolder interrupted, "Don't. Her friends need her." He smiled slightly, "Even being slightly out of practice, our daughter is still one of the best in hand-to-hand combat, and they are going to need all of the help they can get." His smile became a little more predatory, "Besides, if we win here, the Ruling Council will not dare oppose a war hero." The smile faded and his voice dropped to a whisper, "and if we lose..." Isolder shook his head sadly, "...it won't matter anyway."

Teneniel opened her mouth to object to his use of this battle as a political tool, dropping her hands to her side as she did, but her objection died in her throat. Tenel Ka was not doing this for political gain, Isolder was just pointing out a favorable benefit: Tenel Ka's role in a victory here at Coruscant would buy months of silence from the opposition in the Ruling Council, months which Tenel Ka could use to solidify her political base. She exhaled a long breath as she dropped her eyes to the floor, "I hate politics."

Isolder chuckled and retook her left hand, "I know." He waited for his wife to raise her head to look at him again, "That is what made you a good Queen." Teneniel smiled sadly at the compliment but said nothing; if she were such a good queen, she would not have abdicated and forced her husband and daughter to shoulder the burden of trying to keep Hapes from exploding.

As if sensing her thoughts, Isolder smiled warmly, and gave her hand a squeeze, "Don't worry, we'll manage." Nodding at the doorway behind her, "Lunch?"

The Dathomiri woman glanced to where he gestured, and saw the 'Officer's Mess' sign stenciled above the door. Turning back, confusion clearly evident on her face, "We are not eating in you quarters?"

Her husband shook his head, giving her a wry look, "Nope. A wise woman once told me that just because I was royalty, it did not mean that I was special."

Teneniel looked at him affectionately, and gave him a small smile, "Sounds like good advice."

Isolder nodded in agreement as he crossed the hall and opened the door, motioning for her to enter first, "It was." As she passed by him and into the Officer's Mess, he whispered, "She said a lot of smart things."

Before she could react to his comment, the personnel in the room immediately snapped up to a position of 'attention'. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Isolder gestured for them to sit, "Please, don't mind us. Be seated." As the twenty or so officers in the Mess retook their seats, Isolder made the rounds around the modestly decorated room, making sure to introduce Teneniel to each of them, calling each person by name. Shaking the offered hands of the young women and men (and they were all so young) of the Mess, Teneniel could not help but notice the respect and affection that her husband showed for each one of them.

After making sure to talk to everyone for a few moments, Isolder finally led her over to a small table in the far corner of the Mess, wishing to be as unobtrusive as possible. As he pulled out her chair, Teneniel commented quietly, "They seem to like you."

Isolder smirked as he sat opposite his wife, his slate eyes sparkling with obvious pride, "Nah, they tolerate me. You should see them around our daughter."

Before she could reply, CPO Skarsg?rd appeared at their table and started pouring a sweet-smelling white wine into the two crystal goblets on the table. "Your Majesties." He said quietly, nodding at each of them, "Lunch will be ready in a few minutes."

Teneniel smiled warmly at the man who had been who had been serving aboard their previous flagship ever since she had assumed the throne, "Thanks Chief." She reached for his hand, giving it a warm squeeze, "It is good to see you again, Rogimai."

Rogimai Skarsg?rd allowed a hint of a smile to be seen through his well-trimmed but graying beard, "You too, Teneniel." Shooting her a wink, he went back to the galley to make the final check on their lunch.

Teneniel smirked and looked over at her husband and the two of them started chatting about the progress of the war to this point; Isolder explaining with obvious pride the way their daughter had only committed Hapan troops to a battle when she felt that the objective was worth the risk. More than once, he told her, Tenel Ka overrode the wishes of her High Command (including the wishes of her father) declining to take part in a few of the campaigns because she viewed the odds of success were not favorable enough to risk her troops. "I admire Anakin Solo greatly," she had told her Defence Chiefs at one particularly heated meeting, "but his plans rely on huge amounts of pure luck. I was at Myrkr; I know better than most how reckless his plans are. I will not face Hapan parents and tell them that their daughters and sons are dead because we were not lucky enough! Devise a better plan." Thus admonished, the High Command never again tried to sell a plan that was designed to bring 'Glory to Hapan Forces' as one Admiral had said of the plan in question; throughout the remainder of the war, they focused on campaigns that fit into the overarching goal of bringing the war to an end.

The Defence Chiefs would never admit it to him, of course, but Isolder knew that all of them respected the young Queen Mother greatly; she put the lives of her troops first and foremost when deciding on action. Furthermore, the troops all knew it; they knew that if they were sent somewhere, it mattered. It mattered to the galaxy and it mattered to Hapes.

As he talked, Teneniel supposed that she should be impressed at the way her daughter was acting as Commander-in-Chief; Tenel Ka was proving herself to be very astute. Instead, all Teneniel felt was immense guilt. Because she was a coward, Tenel Ka had to assume responsibility for the millions of people in the Hapan armed forces; because she was tired of being Queen Mother, Tenel Ka was thrown into the lion's den and forced to make decisions that no twenty-year-old woman should have to make. Teneniel failed in her duty as a mother to protect her daughter because she was tired. A deep feeling of guilt enveloped her soul and she only hoped that her daughter could find a way to forgive her.

Suddenly, the Dathomiri woman realized that her husband had stopped talking. Seeing his concerned look, he had probably stopped some time ago and she was only now catching on. Gently, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Picking up her wine glass, she swirled the pale yellow contents as she shook her head slightly. "No." Taking a sip, she looked into Isolder's slate eyes and sighed, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, my retelling of the Battle of..."

"No!" She interrupted quietly but firmly. "No." The former Queen Mother took a deep breath and tried again, her lip quivering as she put as much meaning into three words that she could, "I. Am. Sorry." I'm sorry for leaving; I'm sorry for sticking you with this mess; I'm sorry for making our daughter grow up much faster than she should've been forced to; I'm sorry I've been a horrible excuse for a wife.

Teneniel left all of this unsaid, but somehow her husband seemed to understand what she meant. Reaching across the table, he gave her left hand an affectionate squeeze. As he did, she wiped her eye with her other hand and realized that her husband was a much better person than she. If it had been the other way around, if he had left because he was tired of it all, she did not think she would have been nearly as understanding as he. "How...?" pausing, she angrily wiped her eyes again, "How can I ever make this up to her? To you?"

Squeezing her hand again, Isolder smiled the little half-smile that he only let her see, "Maybe a vacation? Just the four of us?"

She nodded once before really comprehending what he had said. Four? Narrowing her brown eyes, she was about to ask whom he meant when Chief Skarsg?rd arrived back at their table, placing two steaming plates of shrimp and sausage jambalaya in front of them. Looking down at her lunch, her eyes widened in surprise; she had not eaten jambalaya in ages. Raising her head, she looked once again at her husband, "You remember?"

Isolder looked affronted, "Of course."

_(_)_

They had not been married very long, a couple of months perhaps, when Isolder noticed that he had not seen his wife yet that day, and it was almost noon. After making a couple of inquiries, he learned that nobody had seen her yet that day. Concerned, he made his way back to their suite. Upon opening the door to the front room, he could hear her quietly crying, the sound coming from their bedroom. Quietly, he opened the door and was frightened by what he saw: the drapes were drawn shut, but even in the darkness he could see that every piece of clothing she owned had been thrown around the room, most of them in a large pile at the foot of the bed. Leaning up against the headboard, her knees pulled to her chest and wearing nothing but her underwear, sat his wife, her eyes wet with tears.

"Teneniel?" Not wanting to make her feel threatened, Isolder slowly made his way to the edge of the bed and took her hand. "Teneniel? What happened?"

She barked a humorless laugh, "I can't stand it." Looking over at her husband, her voice became pained, "This is not me." Gesturing to the pile at the end of the bed, "Some of these dresses cost more than an average Dathomiri makes in six months. We waste more food than I ate as a kid." Slumping against his side, she continued, "As a kid, everyone ate stew or porridge out of one big pot. Now, we have courses." Teneniel looked again at Isolder imploringly and whispered, "This is not me."

Isolder shifted slightly and put his arm around his wife. "We can change." Squeezing her shoulder, "This is your house now, you can change the rules." Smiling, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, giving him a kiss. No one saw either one of them that afternoon.

The next day, Isolder gave the entire Royal staff the day off, declaring it a 'Dathomir Culture Day', the two of them treating the day as a 'staycation'. Teneniel wore her traditional Dathormiri lizard garb as she sat in her office reviewing briefing notes for an upcoming meeting with the Kuati Ambassador and went over the minutes of the last session of the Republic's Foreign Relations Committee. As Queen, it behooved her to know what Leia's government was up to, after all.

While his wife went about the business of State, Isolder busied himself with making lunch. Remembering Teneniel's comment about 'eating from a big pot', he smiled as he recalled his grandfather making a dish called 'jambalaya' on days when Ta'a Chume was out of the Palace on 'business'. The four of them, his grandfather, father, brother, and him would stuff themselves silly on the spicy rice dish while watching obscene amounts of smashball.

Shaking his head at the memory, the young Prince searched the kitchen's database for the recipe. He frowned to himself when the computer answered his request with: no entry found. Thinking that he had spelled it incorrectly, he tried a couple more times, getting the same answer each time. Either his mother had deleted the entry or...a smile crossed his lips...his grandfather simply made up the recipe as he went along; what Ta'a Chume could not find, she could not accuse them of eating.

It took longer to make lunch then he expected. Improvisation was never Isolder's strong suit, and he had to get help from the kitchen droid a time or two so as to not make something inedible, but in the end, he was rather pleased with his concoction. His grandfather would be proud.

After setting the table out on the patio, he went to gather Teneniel from her office. Seeing his impish grin, she regarded him warily. "What's going on, Husband Isolder?"

Isolder said nothing as he walked over and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. "This way, if you please."

Confused, the auburn-haired Queen allowed herself to be led out of the apartment onto the patio where she stopped dead upon seeing the table. Sitting on the wrought-iron table was a large pot of a yummy-smelling concoction, two wooden bowls, and two spoons. As she stood wide-eyed at what her husband had made, she noticed that the only concession to Hapes was the bottle of wine sitting in its cooler.

Noticing his wife's obvious surprise, and pleased with himself for being able to pull it off, Isolder said quietly, "It's not stew, but I figured it fit the spirit of..."

He was unable to finish his thought as Teneniel launched herself at him, the two of them slamming into the brick wall behind him. As his wife ripped his shirt off, Isolder was glad that he remembered to put a warming plate under the jambalaya.

_(_)_

"That was the day we became...us." Isolder explained, breaking her out of her memories. After that day, Teneniel became more comfortable in the Palace; she gave most of her expensive gowns to charity and purchased more sensible clothes, she made sure that all of the extra food be given to local soup kitchens, and they made sure to have a 'Dathomir Culture Day' every few weeks where it would just be the two of them. Perhaps more importantly, it became the three of them some nine-ish months after that day.

Teneniel knew that most people thought Isolder to be stiff and superficial, but underneath his distant fa?ade, her husband was one of the most caring, loving individuals she had ever met. Not for the first time, she was glad he had come to Dathomir with Skywalker that day so long ago. Giving his hand that was still holding hers an affectionate squeeze, she said quietly, "I love you." The Crown Prince of Hapes said nothing as he smiled and squeezed her hand in return; content to let her have the last word.

As they ate, Teneniel told him of her plans to set up a Dathomori Jedi Academy. It was her belief that the current Praxeum defined the Force in terms that were too narrow, perhaps the Dathomiri way could add richness to the overall texture of what it meant to be a Jedi; the Nightsisters were a powerful clan, perhaps it would be better to incorporate their teachings into the Jedi syllabus rather than simply exclude them because they were 'different'.

After telling him her plans, the two of them ate in relative silence for a time, surreptitiously glancing at each other as if they were on a first date. Finally, unable to bear the silence, Teneniel took a quick look around the room, clearly making sure that no one was within earshot. Quietly, her face full of concern, she inquired, "How is she doing?" As Queen?

Once again, the Crown Prince's slate eyes beamed in obvious pride, "Despite her steep learning curve..." he deadpanned, smiling good-naturedly at Teneniel's guilty grimace, "...Tenna is doing pretty well." His wife snorted once at his use of their daughter's nickname. The eight-year-old son of one of Teneniel's Naval Liaison had given Tenel Ka the nickname when he was unable to pronounce his six-year-old friend's name properly. If the Dathomiri witch were a betting person, she would place a large amount of credits on the bet that NONE of Tenel Ka's Jedi friends knew of this nickname; a deficiency that Teneniel needed to correct. Smirking the evil smirk of a meddling mother, she returned her attention to her husband, "...has the rare ability of knowing when to interject in Cabinet meetings. Sometimes, she lets us Ministers squabble amongst ourselves to come up with the solution, other times she steps in to mediate."

Casting a furtive glance around the Mess, Isolder continued in a lower tone, "Tenna's been masterful at using the War Powers Act." Seeing his wife's confused look, he explained further, "She's used the skilled labor shortage as leverage to get more men into technical training; she eliminated statute that ensured men could only make up 15% of a factory floor." Across the table, Teneniel slumped back in her chair, amazed at what she was being told. Reforms that her and Isolder had championed for almost twenty years, her daughter had managed to get passed in less than two.

Isolder leaned forward, clearly excited, "That's not the best part. Using the Act, she has been quietly hiring chemists, mathematicians, physicists, pretty much any out-of-work professor from systems that have been overrun, setting them up in universities throughout the system." He shot his wife a wry grin, "Tenna's been telling the Ruling Council that these people are needed to ensure that Hapes has the best minds to design new weaponry for the military." Shaking his head in disbelief, "After this war is over, we will have five or six of the finest Universities in the galaxy. We stand to become what Alderaan was: the beacon of higher learning."

Sometime during their honeymoon, Isolder confessed to her that his goal for Hapes was to make it matter to the galaxy. To prove to everyone that being Hapan meant more than just having money and being pretty. Maybe, just maybe, he would see that goal achieved.

Looking at her wrist chrono, Teneniel grimaced. "Luke's meeting is in forty-five minutes, we should start heading down." Smiling coyly at her husband, "Would you care to join me on my shuttle for the ride down?"

He winked, "Of course." He glanced over his shoulder, "Chief?"

CPO Skarsg?rd again materialized seemingly out of nowhere and handed the Crown Prince of Hapes a small brown paper bag. "Right here sir."

Isolder nodded at the slightly younger man, "Thanks Chief."

The Navy man merely nodded as he watched the Royal Couple get up and make their way out of the Mess, smiling as he heard the former Queen Mother ask, "What's in the bag?"


A/N: In the interest of storytelling, I changed the time interval between Teneniel's/Isolder's wedding and when Tenel Ka was born. According to Wookiepedia, the time interval was about 2 years, I changed it to about a year.

I got Tenel Ka's nickname (and it's background story) from Hexterah's wonderful series 'The Feigned'. If you are a Jacen/Tenel Ka fan, than this series is a 'must read'; it's got it's own website, so just do a search.

I couldn't find any naming protocol for the Dathomiri Navy, so I made up my own. Dathomir being Dathormir, it made sense to me that they would name their ships after famous witches.

A special thanks to Origami Fish for dumping this plot bunny on me and for letting me play in the sandbox that is 'A Destiny Altered'.