The Voidbreaker II // Level 04: “Beach Club”
The asteroid shadowport Port Olâval was open to all, although the party was actually on the Voidbreaker II, a heavily modified Corvette that was docked there. Those who had been on it before swear that it is much larger on the inside, especially the recreation deck. Today ,the fourth level had been terraformed into a distinct and sensory-overloading biome. The environmental regulators were locked to “Scarif High Noon.” The air was thick, shimmering above the deck plates, heavy with a mouth-watering collision of scents: the savory, greasy smoke of roasting meats, the cloying sweetness of deep-fried cake, and the tang of imported saltwater.
Two large, hand-painted banners strung between the bulkheads flapped lazily in the artificial airflow: HAPPY LIFE DAY / HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
A repulsor-generator on the far wall pushed steady, rhythmic rolling waves across the surface of the zero-entry pool, creating a perfect surf (mini wave pool) for toddlers. The water was a colorful sea of inflatables for both adults and kids - steerable X-Wings and TIE-fighters, a massive Millennium Falcon raft large enough for several kids or an adult, and a few children already strapped into âBuoyancy-Beskarâ - safety vests shaped and painted to look like Mandalorian armor - all bobbing under the threat of a large repurposed hopper that dumped gallons of water on them every few minutes.
Attached to the main basin and raised slightly was a hot tub. It offered a bubbling, steaming sanctuary for the adults - located out of range of the water-hopper and protected from the armada of starfighter rafts.
To the left, a containment field shimmered around the Sandbox Zone, stocked with vibro-toys, two ride-on, toddler-sized repulsor-excavators (backhoes) and a scattering of molding buckets. A few loungers and tables sat in the area as well as outside the box all around the pool deck.
Near the entrance sat a heavy shipping container spray-painted in gold: LOOT DROP. It was half-full of wrapped gifts for the Life Day random exchange.
Presiding over the party from behind the massive buffet table was Socorra, looking less like a hostess and more like a logistics officer under siege. She was dressed in a simple swim-wrap, her attention split three ways. Her hands deftly carved slices off a massive spit of roasting meats, arranging them next to a bubbling pot of spicy peppers. She had stabbed 1-to-3 skull warning flags into a multitude of different food bowls, while maintaining a completely separate table for the kids (and those with no taste).
The tiki bar, constructed from salvaged cargo crates and draped in festive netting, was fully stocked with the usual fare, plus a nearly endless array of questionable options. Large fizzy-drink, juice, and water tubs were next to it, easily accessible to everyone.
‘Port Authority Bossa Nova Vol. 4’ spewed through the high-end speakers - a tragedy, really - a synthesized flute tooted aimlessly over a soulless, repetitive drum beat. It was the musical equivalent of a beige wall. The DJ booth to the side of the stage sat empty and neglected.
A pet station was towards the back, and the rest of the recreation deck was also available, which included the sauna, gym, and conservatory for quietness away from the party.
JV Corra VI, amidships galley/lounge
Kalen and crew, had received the invite to the event just as they had completed the Ascendant Outreach Corps first operational deployment. It had been a unqualified and complete success as far as he and his superiors were concerned. They had garnered the goodwill of a few Confederacy member worlds where support for their own membership is the regional bloc was waning or apathetic at best.
In addition their quite public and dramatic eradication of a Pyke Syndicate spice distribution hub near the coreward frontiers of the region had already caused an independant Shivestaven colony to apply for membership. The icing on the proverbial cake had been on the final leg of their deployment with the successful rescue of just under 40 Ugnaught slave laborers from the pleasure planet Kelleta. This had resulted in Kalen hiring 28 of them to operate his pantalomin peach cider orchard and brewery back on Aliso and the rest had volunteered to serve as covert agents/commando’s as a part of the AOC.
Up until the day before they conducted the rescue of Treels(Kalens partner in his mobilr laundry business) family members, the eternally naive and often oblivious Jedi hadn’t known that Karracca and Treel had known eachother for several decades, nor had he known about Treel’s prior service as an officer in the Rebel/Alliance/New Republic Special Forces.
But it had all worked out for the best, and Kalen had decided to take the crew and his fiancĂŠ Corra to the party aboard the Voidbreaker II.
Flashback to a week ago, Corra VI airlock
“It is agreeable to see you again Under Secretary.” Treel said to Karracca, using the last official title he recalled the enormous and obese old Wookie having. During Major Treel’s final few months of service, he had been one of the senior intelligence staffers for the Special Operation Division within the New Republics Dept of Defense, where Karracca had been an Under Secretary for Strategic Plans
“I haven’t held that title in over 3 decades. The claims about the superiority of the Ugnaught memory is well deserved. Your words honor me though Major Treel.” The wookie growled.
D-3P0 dutifully translated the wookies words for Treel, and the Ugnaught nodded curtly.
“Wait, you two know eachother already? Wow, small galaxy eh?” Kalen was very suprised.
“And in the early days, it was a small Rebellion too.” Karracca replied.
As D-3P0 began to translate again Treel raised a hand, stopping the droid mid sentence. “I am fluent in Shryiwook. You may cease the unrequired communications. I have spoken.”
“Oh, certainly sir, I know that most Ugnaughts have a marked disdain for…” the goldenrod 3P0 stopped as Treel raised his palm to him again and turned his face away, a clear and standard Ugnaught symbological statement that any further talking would serve only as annoyance and be disregarded.
“You can go ahead and head back to the galley D.” Kalen said with a smile.
“I remember you saying that you hadn’t always been in the laundry business, but, a Major? In the Rebel army I assume?” The Jedi Ranger, having been stuck in another galaxy for 7 decades with the rest of the descendants of his grandfathers squadron up until 9 months ago, had only a scant notion of what had occurred between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance.
“The Rebellion and the Alliance to Restore the Republic never really had a formally constituted army as such, but the Major here was one of the most experienced and accomplished Special Forces commando in our ranks.” Karracca explained.
“Your words honor me friend, but I have come to coordinate the rescue of my kin, not prattle about events of the distant past. I have spoken.”
“Uh, yeah, of course, lets get to it.” Kalen hastily replied.
End of Flashback
Kalen, roused himself from his recollection of the conversation that had occurred in the same location of the ship and turned to the rest of the folks who had assembled, ready to disembark and head over to the Voidbreaker.
“D’s not coming?”
Reece(the emancipated R3-E5 astromech who served as the First Mate and Navigator of the Corra VI) booped and beeped in his usual sarcastic and condescending tone, “No way, that prissy pompous nitwit would never risk getting wet, or sand stuck in his servo’s. I on the other hand, am ready to party.”
The astromech popped out a comically small multi coloured umbrella from the top of his dome, while also opening his largest front tool compartment hatch and whipping out a standard serving tray that had a small digital screen that had “TIPS HERE” and an arrow pointing to a slit in the tray spelled out on it. The slit was connected with a tube to one of the droids other storage compartments.
“Saving up for your own ship now arent you Reece?” Corra giggled as she grabbed Kalens hand.
“No, that would be preposterous. Im saving up for… one of those Mando style jet packs.” Reece beeped in response. He was indeed saving up credits for exactly that reason, but wasn’t going to admit it, especially to his former Masters girlfriend.
“Well, lets go have some fun.” Kalen said as the hard seal on the airlock door flashed green signaling that the ship was docked and the airlock had been pressurized.
“They better have food and booze, there was no BYOB note on that invite.” Karracca grumbled as he took a large swig from his flask before donning a wide brimmed, size 14 and 3/8th straw hat.
The Voidbreaker II//Level 04 “Beach Club”
Syk had arrived at the âbeach partyâ on board the Voidbreaker IIâs fourth floor. Already, she could smell the savory and spicy meats sizzling as they were already set out on the buffet table. Another saccharine scent of deep fried cake and spices also filled her nostrils. Her oceanic blue eyes scanned the room, taking in all of the sights. Having spotted the tiki bar, she noted it for later.
Since this was a beach party, she had come dressed in her swim wear, which consisted of dark red wine colored swimsuit tank top and matching swim cover. Her swim cover was a bit thicker as she still preferred to keep her second set of toned arms hidden away.
Also since it was a lifeday/bday event, she had brought a gift for the exchange gift table. The Shadow slithered surprisingly quiet over towards the gifts, her dark green snakelike body moving gracefully as she gently placed her blue colored neatly wrapped gift on the table.
âI hope whoever gets it will enjoy the present.â
After placing it, she pushed her brown hair back behind her. Normally, as of her species their hair usually covered up their face,save the eyes and mouth, but Syk was different and always shaved it off. Because of this, it showed off her more green basilisk looking face.
Satisfied with the gift placement, her sea blue eyes turned towards the adult hot tub. A nice soak sounded heavenly and she did enjoy meditating a bit while relaxing in some nice hot water.
A couple decks above, Alex was busily rearranging things in the âquartersâ he still kept aboard the Voidbreaker II - more a storage room for relics and trophies from his history than any place to actually sleep and live - even after his appointment as the Shadow Lord of Arcona. It was the constant irony of his life that he always found himself in positions of ever-increasing power, importance, and responsibility when at the end of the day this was the sort of life he was more comfortable leading - a soldier, an explorer, a man-of-action surrounded by the legacy of his adventures. Cupping his chin as he scanned the racks, he considered his options.
âIf I move the Sith Lord lightsaber and Mandalore the Ultimateâs spear haft to the other side of that stand, I should have enough room for the resonance torpedo shell..â
As he sank into thought, his reverie was interrupted by the alarm on his chron going off. There was no more time for this now, he had a social engagement to attend!
Alex stood by the drinks table, a disposable cup filled with some vaguely described fruity liquid clutched in one hand. He wore an unbuttoned blue cabana shirt patterned with silver Mythosaur skulls over a simple pair of black board short-style swim trunks. He glanced around the pseudo-beach the recreation deck had become, shuffling a bit awkwardly. While he was far from a stranger to social events, he had also learned early on that it was important to read and match the vibe of a particular occasion. In this instance, there was somewhat of a dichotomy to the potentials of this. He had gone to many Life Day parties before - even if he did not celebrate the holiday himself - but usually they were more rambunctious affairs with a high likelihood of hijinks and antics occurring. The combination of the event with a birthday celebration for a small child left him at a bit of a loss.
. Childrenâs birthday parties were frankly a bit of a mystery still to him. Growing up among the Mandalorian Clans in the midst of the Crusades meant that often your birthdays were spent on the battlefield, maybe youâd get a compatriot to give you their ration of chocolate for the day, but little else in the way of revelry. Since leaving that life long ago, Alex himself had been effectively childless and so never found much opportunity to attend such events - unless very close to the family, it is not common for single, childless adults to be invited to that sort of thing.
And so there he stood, drink obtained out of obligation more than thirst, outfit chosen with care but not a great deal of planning, trying to determine what his âplaceâ was amidst all of this.
The hiss of the door cut through the ambient noise.
Socorra didn’t look up immediately. The large carving knife in her hand moved with the terrifying fluidity of a Blademaster. Clean, singular strokes sheared through the roasted muscle without resistance.
She laid the slice precisely on the platter, wiped the blade in one smooth motion, and then lifted her gaze to assess the breach - a traveling circus. Slipping in behind the chaos was a second arrival. The Shadow moved with significantly more stealth than the others as she slithered toward the Loot Drop with a gift.
The Arconan wiped her hands on a rag. Her good eye tracked them, and while the sharp perimeter guard instincts were there, the stare softened. It was one thing to host a party on a Grandmasterâs yacht, and a whole other thing to host one at home. But there was a flicker of dry amusement in her expression at the sight of the eclectic group. She offered a sharp, upward chin-lift.
“Welcome to party,” she said. The accent was immediately obvious and odd enough to cut through the terrible jazz.
She flipped the carving knife in her hand and caught it in a reverse grip. It was a fidget of lethal muscle memory before she pointed the handle toward the Wookiee. “Open Tiki Bar,” she said, as if she had read their mind. “Skull on stuff tâat burns.”
Suddenly, a shriek of pure joy erupted from the sandbox.
Two human toddlers had spotted the droid. One of them sported a golden crown made of cheap flimsioplast, like something from a greasy nerfburger franchise, which was tilted hazardously over his ear. The combination of a rolling astromech and a colorful umbrella was too much for their brains to process calmly. The boys abandoned their post near the pool and hauled their heavy Hydro-Repeaters with clumsy speed as they waddled tactically toward Reece.
“DWOID!” the first one screamed, struggling to raise his water cannon.
The other one looked to his slightly older partner first and then also struggled to raise his cannon. âYeah! DWOID!â
Socorra watched the approach with mild interest as she leaned back against the buffet table. “I advise droid to keep moving,” she smiled a little to Kalen. “They about to be flanked.”
She then shifted her attention to Syk, noting the way the Thisspiassian had immediately clocked the hot tub.
“Smart,” Socorra called out, pitching her voice to carry over the splashing water to the Shadow. She gestured with the handle of the knife toward the raised tub. “Is shielded. Unless tâey figure how to climb trans.. pair.. pari.. tâe steel, it safe up tâere.”
She jerked her chin toward the audio terminal, addressing the whole group. “Food hot ready any time. Whole floor is yours. And if any know how to slice sound system, please do.”
She turned back to the roast, then paused. It was as if a delayed notification had just flashed across her vambrace screen reminding her of standard social protocols. She looked back over her shoulder, gesturing with the knife handle to herself and then the kids.
“Socorra Erinos. T'ese two troublemaker are Turi, bir'day boy, and his cousin Weyne. Partners in crime.”
Her gaze drifted to the tables, landing on the solitary figure standing there with the distinct air of a man who didn’t know what to do with his hands. She smiled softly. She had watched the Mandalorian blast through an entire blockade alone without blinking, but here - sans armor, sans war - he seemed slightly out of place. If she didn’t have a knife in her hand, she would probably be right there, flopping on the deck. A fish out of water. Emotional comfort blade? Perhaps.
“And of course, Alex. Arcona Consul.” She gave him a respectful nod before turning her attention back to the meat and dismissing the chaos entirely. “Feel free to ignore kids and just veg, altâough, birâday cake and gifts in one hour if tâat your tâing. Until t'en… bar is open for reason.” She picked up her own bottle in salute.
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Sykâs lithe body turned to the side as she looked at Soccora. âI have always enjoyed relaxing hot tubs. Water can be calming and peaceful.â Her voice was surprisingly soft and gentle with a soothing melodic lilt to it. She attempted to smile, though her fangs showed a bit.
âWell I do hope the birtthday boy enjoys his gifts and cake.â She then shook her head slightly as she heard herself speak. The âthâ was a little more difficult for her to pronounce, causing it to come out with a little more hiss when she spoke. Still she found herself happy to be invited to a party. Perhaps after soaking a bit, she would head over to the tiki bar to mingle a bit.
As she entered into the hot tub, she took off her blue swim cover and set it down in the far back left corner of the hot tub. She then darted to the corner spot and coiled her body around in a circle like a wound spring to allow more room for others.
Only her upper half was now showing as she relaxed her body into the soothing hot water. She allowed herself to lean back against wall and closed her eyes. The steaming water now worked against her muscles to ease the soreness.
Karracca said something appreciative and headed straight for the bar but only after flicking out the claw of his index finger and using it to snag a piece of the freshly cut meat off the platter and dropping it in his mouth.
“Juicy and succulent.” He growled as he made for the bar.
Kalen meanwhile was keeping an eye on Reece. He had never seen the R3 around kids before. Especially armed ones.
“They’re toy weapons bud.”
“Pfft, I know the differences between a blastech and water gun boss.” The droid booped and beeped in response before turned his dome to face the duo of flanking snipers. He decided to ‘suppress them" with a good old fashioned shock and awe artillery strike.
The plucky and arguably unhinged droid deployed his jump thrusters from the side of his wheel struts, shot up in the air in the direction of the younglings. The green and white mech then opened the hatch to one of his storage compartment before firing 2 miniature rockets towards the kids. The rockets whistled faintly and moved slower then the real ones, and also flew towards there target in large looping arcs.
“Oh you gotta be fracking m…” Kalen started to say, as a vision of war erupting between Arcona and Plagueis because his droid killed 2 younglings at a birthday party. But as the rockets arrived above the children, they stopped and exploded in a cascade of multi-coloured fireworks and glitter that then rained down on them.
The younglings were so impressed they dropped their weapons and began cheering, while pleading for more.
“Looks like he’ll be fine with them hun.” Corra patted Kalen on the arm. She was a wearing a custom flowlery sun dress of her own design, while Kalen was wearing some loose fitting beige pants and a simple white T-shirt.
There was a time Korvyn would have been shot for even sitting foot on the Voidbreaker II. The original Voidbreaker of course was destroyed in battle with the Dawn Conclave. Now here he was gearing up for a life day beach party on the fourth deck.
Clad in his normal retirement outfit of shorts, a shirt from his latest concert and clogs he waited for his X-70 to be cleared for landing. It was still new and shiny. He wasn’t sure he would keep it but for now it did the trick. Though it stood out like a wampa in the jungle. To over the top for a lowly information broker.
After gaining clearance and docking he headed to the turbolift, gift in hand for exchange. It wasn’t elaborate but it still was useful and he hoped would be appreciated. As the lift opened up on deck 4 he was immediately hit with the sound of laughing kids and humidity. Someone went overboard on the enviromental controls but at least they were keeping the theme on point.
Zig Kaliska strolled into Deck Zero-Four as if it was any other day. She twirled her hydro spanner idly one hand while keeping her nose buried in her datapad.
“Power output from the generators are peaking today, I wonderâ” she blinked, looking up, and finally seemed to take in the scene.
She had been buried in her workstation for days, more or less sleeping in the engineering bay. Fortunately, she had washed up, but she was wearing her Voidbreaker uniform and definitely out of place.
“Uh. Oh right, the party was today.”
She looked around, saw Alex, and nodded that an adultier-adult was indeed present. That was good. Despite being the vice captain of the ship, the Shadow Lord automatically assumed command onboard.
“Er. Welcome to the ‘breaker!” she flashed a grin that was more outgoing than she felt.
A young girl appeared seemingly out of nowhere just off to the side of Kalen.
“Do not worry. Turi is already starting to develop his abilities. And Weyne loves droids, as is proper, but while we don’t know if his power will manifest, he is quick as a cricket already.”
The white haired girl with one blue eye and one milky-white turned towards the tall human. She had pointed ears, like a Spehi, but pale smooth skin dotted with freckles and a mane of long, messy white hair.
“Don’t underestimate my brother and cousin,” she grinned proudly, placing her hands on her hips.
Zig offered a hand to the Mandalorian. “Zig Kaliska, Vice captain of the ship. Not sure we’ve met before mister…” she trailed off.
She knew she could pull up his information from his docking information, but she was already into the motion of greeting.
“Korvyn,” he replied as he shook the Zygerrian’s hand. “A fine ship you have here. Better than the original from the looks of it. Though I only saw the schematics of that one. A privilege to be here.”
Zig raised her eyebrows. Not many outside of Arcona, or those who served on the ship, tended to know much about it. There was a mixture of pride but also a faint hint of suspicion, but the former won out.
“Yeah, it was sad at first, but pretty wild. Never actually seen someone hammerhead a space yacht before. But hey, it worked, and always good to find the positive out of the negatives, I’ve always said. We got to custom commission the ‘breaker II and she’s got more than her share of surprises now. We are happy to have you, Korvyn,” she nodded. “But, don’t let me hold you up. Socks is over there serving drinks it seems. Make yourself at home,” she smiled and seemed to get distracted by something off to the side.
“Kist someone is getting a paddling for not remembering to change the filters for the pool,” the Zygerrian mumbled to herself as she waved her hydro spanner ominously towards the mechanical fixture.
“Oh, I do not underestimate your sibling little one, it is more a case of overestimating the capabilities of my droid.” Kalen chuckled.
The young girl seemed to reflect on that, her hands clasping behind her back as her posture straightened and she studied the droid playing with the two boys.
Alexâs eyes narrowed, setting his drink down on the tiki bar. He glanced about casually, finding a spare water blaster pistol discarded nearby before slinking into the fake foliage projected around the pop-up structure. He had gone from not being sure what he was doing here to having a distinct and specific mission which he intended to carry out. He checked the contents of the blaster - nearly full of water, so plenty of ammo if he needed it.
While he didnât have the widest breadth of experience with her admittedly, every time he had a chance to interact with Kirra she had come across as composed, collected, and far more mature than her age. While there was certainly nothing wrong with this - there were all types of people and for some that was just the way they were - Alex felt it important to draw out one thing. Raising the hydro-firearm and taking aim, he smiled to himself as he began to depress the trigger. He was going to make sure that Kirra got to be a kid today at this party.
A whisper from the Force alerted her just moments before the guerrilla attack. Despite this, she did not move to react and in what felt like slowed time dilation, she felt the stream of cold water splash over her.
Biscuits. Too slow.
She let out a very child-like squeak and nearly leapt out of her slip-on sandals. “No fair!” she giggled, quickly scampering away for cover. She was tempted to shift, but knew she wasn’t supposed to do it around other people. So she, careful not to run by the pool (as was proper decorum), waddled towards a chair to take cover.
She looked around for a weapon to counter with. She saw a full sized watergun, probably the side of her entire body, set on the table. She reached out her hand and, with a big concentration of effort, called out to it with the Force. Just as Papa had shown her. Her brow furrowed as it started to wiggle, wobbble, and then shot towards her.
She let out an excited peep as she gripped the larger super-soaker and looked about for her asailant.
“Show yourself, villian!” she exclaimed.
Socorra watched the transition with genuine appreciation.
“Calming,” she repeated, with a dry, skeptical amusement.
She leaned back against the buffet table, wiping the grease from her hands, her good eye locking onto the Shadow making her way across the deck. She didn’t mock the way the womanâs accent clipped the words, her own was simply just as clipped. If anything, the percussive edge made the philosophy sound less like poetry and more like a threat.
“You not wrong,” she called out, pitching her voice low and intimate, cutting under the terrible Bossa Nova track. “Tâey say notâing is softer or more yielting tâan water…”
She paused, a sharp, dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The R of Rage rolled off her tongue.
“…Yet who can wâstand tâe raging flood?”
She tipped the handle of her carving knife toward the tub in a mock salute, an acknowledgement of the power hiding in the bubbles.
With a startling precision born from the convenience of chaos, the water blaster pistol flew from within the bushes and landed cleanly in the hand Korvyn had until a moment ago been shaking Zig’s with. From the opposite side of the foliage Alex came rolling out, scooping his drink from the bar top as he passed by. Snapping back to his feet cleanly at the end of his roll, he slammed what remained in his glass before discarding it and diving for another nearby discarded water blaster.
“Akaan b'purin!” The Arconan Consul called out, pointing at the offending ‘weapon’ and the man now holding it who had nothing to do with the ‘water war’ which had just started - but was about to!
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Kirra narrowed her eyes but then reconsidered, popping back behind her cover.
“Ani'la Akaan, verda!” her little voice called out fiercely.
She almost cussed with her limited knowledge, but aunty Sock was still being stingy with teaching her Mandalorian Cusses.
Get to know other ships. Mingle. Brand recognition!
That was what had been on the invite that Valara had not so subtly attempted to deliver unto the shredder. Alas, it was not to be. Her First Mate caught wind and after delivering a rather well thought out and surprisingly long tirade pertaining to the Captain’s supposed “neet” behaviour and comparing her to a shut in, Valara acquiesced under protest.
The protest, of course, was noted.
The Kiffar let out a long breath as she ran the tips of her fingers together, feeling the material of her body-glove like a security blanket. She didn’t know the Voidbreaker, nor its crew. And yet, Valara found herself under the employ of the Iron Fleet time and time again. Even if they still called her a pirate.
Pah!
Having docked with Port Ol'val, the captain had allowed for shore leave so long as a skeleton crew remained behind. And that was how she found herself with her boots clacking against the durasteel floors and her golden, curled locks flowing like a cape behind her. With invite in hand, she keyed the panel hoping to be allowed entry to the Voidbreaker II and, with luck, a very short social interaction.
Both boysâ eyes went wide as Death Stars, the sudden whoosh of the rockets eliciting a collective, terrified gasp.
âMAMAAA!â Turi suddenly screeched for his buir, scrambling backward.
âMAMAAA!â Weyne parroted instantly, screeching for his own or perhaps just caught up in the contagion of toddler panic.
Mama Mando was about to go ballistic on a little astromech firing rockets at toddlers - any of them, but particularly family.
But then came the fireworks and glitter.
She paused, the lethal tension leaving her shoulders. She raised two fingers to her eye and patch, then pointed them sharply back at Reece. You live…for now.
And suddenly, Kirra!
âMeshâla,â Socorra called out warmly to her niece. âHow good of you to come.â
The words were very slow and deliberately chosen to match the girlâs usual cadence, smoothing over her own poor, broken Basic. As is proper.
She watched Alex tag and play with her for a moment, enjoying and appreciating the endearing effort to entertain her.
“Ba'vodu, sir-pressive cover!” Kirra piped out, her little voice attempting to carry a bigger weight than it actually had.
She poked out around her chair-cover and fired a stream of water from her super soaker towards Alex and Korvyn.
Entertained by this, Syk smiled at Kirra before she vanished from sight. Swiftly and quietly she got out of the hot tub, slithered over to the super soakers and grabbed one. She knew because of the water she was leaving a trail that could be seen. “Decoy..” She concentrated a moment and as if she were shedding a coat, created a decoy invisible version of herself setting it up so they would catch a small glimmer of movement from the decoy before she aimed the super soaker directly to the back of Alex, who was facing Kirra and fired.
Miho arrived, fashionably late, and looked at the Voidbreaker through the viewport of the shuttle currently conveying her and her apprentice to a birthday party.
Correction. Beach party. In space. Or both. Probably both and more. The invitation had gotten a bt corrupted during transit, so all she really had to go on was the sender and the location.
“Master, we are already late. Shouldn’t we, you know, arrive?” Vianya asked in her soft, haunted voice. The unrelieved black of the Miraluka’s attire always made Miho curious. She was actually a very upbeat and happy young woman, but qas forever on about the passing of time and the mortality of sentience.
The High Councillor gestured to the pilot. “Take us in and try kot to trade paint with anyone on the way. They might get upset with us.”
The ship made the course corrections and entered the cargo bay reserved for out of system guests, happily not bumping into anyone. “Alright then. It’s a party. So let’s get partying.” She tapped the pilot on the shoulder. “That’s means you too, Keeran. Go enjoy some time out of the pilot’s chair.”
The man nodded as he finished the landing sequences. “Thank you, High Councillor. You are always considerate.”
The young woman didn’t hear hom because she had already headed towards the aft compartment and was busily opening the hatch. Vianya, however, smiled at the man and gave him a polite bow before turning to follow her master.
Not that the Zygerrian needed to go very far to get there, but the gesture of coming was appreciated, especially since she wasn’t freaking out about what Socorra had done to her recreation deck.
She spotted her talking to Korvyn, the recently retiredâŚISB Director. She couldnât help but smirk a little. It was good to see him out of the stiff Imperial atmosphere.
“Korvyn,” Socorra greeted the man with a nod, her tone holding a genuine warmth that had since replaced her cynicism for the former Imperial. She eyed the item in his hand. “Glad you made it. We trade… useful gifts later. Relax first.”
She turned back to the Vice Captain. âAnd thank you,â she said with genuine gratefulness, catching Zig before she walked away to probably fix a hundred things the woman had repurposed, reused, or recycled for most of the ridiculous theme. âHope I not go too overboard. Void parties fun, but want to mix up little.â
She didn’t get a chance to hear the answer before the chaos erupted.
Socorra turned just in time to see Alex - Consul of Arcona, dignitary, grown man - tactical roll across the deck like he was storming a bunker to grab a water blaster.
“Ani'la Akaan, verda!”
The Mandalorian matriarchâs good eye crinkled at the corners. Then she heard the call for suppressive cover directed at her. Kirra was buying her time. It would be rude to waste it.
Socorra calmly reached out to the nearby table, her hand closing around the grip of a heavy-duty, double-barreled water blaster. She lifted it with the same casual grace as a champagne flute, checking the pressure gauge.
“Excuse me,” she murmured.
Then, she raised her voice, pitching it to carry over the pool deck towards the fake bushes.
“Hah! Good pronunciation, ad'ika!” she shouted, bringing the stock of the water-rifle to her shoulder. “Loud is good! Now, watch your flank!”
She glanced sideways at Korvyn, nodding at the plastic pistol that had just magically flown into his hand.
“You armed now, Director. That make you fair game.” <@189568236201705472> <@583854106599489557>
Kirra let out a screech as she fired her water canon indiscriminately at the Mandalorian. It was not proper, or lady like, but such things were acceptable in matters of love and war. Not that she was well versed in either.
Blasters were not Korvyn’s favorite. He found them clumsy and unwieldy. At least this one was filled with water. Several jets of water came at him from the young child moving in and out of cover. Not having time to dodge he resisted the urge to throw up a force barrier. It wouldn’t be fair, or fun for the child if he didn’t at least play along.
Instead he ducked behind a table and chairs and indiscriminately returned fire in the general direction his assailant had hidden. It was hard to believe just a few months ago this would have been frowned on behavior as the head of the Imperial Security Bureau. He let all that go now and just enjoyed the moment.
The security protocols recognized the invite code immediately, cycling the airlock open without fuss. It sounded like a waterpark from inside the lift, and the aroma of roasting meats wafted to the Kiffarâs nostrils.
When the door opened, it was a sight to behold: a ship deck completely terraformed into a tropical paradise. The pool had its own waves for toddlers to surf, steerable rafts shaped like starfighters, a giant sandpit with a containment field, and loungers and tables spread everywhere. A massive buffet labeled with the spiciest food from across the galaxy sat next to an open tiki bar to wash it all down with (or to forget ever doing so).
A woman approached her, an eyepatch over one eye and white and raven hair falling to her waist. She rested the barrel of a heavy, double-barreled water blaster against her shoulder as casually as if it were a purse.
“Welcome aboard the Void,” she spoke with a clipped accent, offering a sharp nod and a gesture to the deck with her free hand.
“I am Socorra Erinos. You look like you need drink. Or meat. We have plenty both.” A dry smirk touched her lips as she hefted the weapon slightly. “Enjoy tâe neutral ground. But… watch your six. Tâchildren are armed.”
Mihoshi and company likewise found it easy to get to the fourth deck. The door hissed open and a blast of hot air smacked her in the face.
âMee-o! Momma, momma it Mee-o!â Turhaya shouted as the smaller woman entered the deck. The toddler dropped his heavy hydro repeater and toddled over to the Keibatsu, his skinny arms open wide.
Weyne, caught up in the sudden contagion of toddler excitement, opened his mouth to shout the same. He took a few running steps to join the pile-on, his little legs pumping as he parroted the noise.
“Ma-ma! Mee-o!”
But as he got closer, he skidded to a halt.
He stared at the woman, but the furrow in his brow wasn’t suspicion. It was a sudden, resonant recognition. He didn’t know her name, but he knew the weight of her presence. She was the Stillness. She was the Anchor that had stopped the scary shaking in Aunny Sawks’ head that one time. She had sparkled with a lot of glitter in her hair.
He jammed his thumb into his mouth, looking up at her with wide, unblinking eyes. Weyne didn’t rush her. You don’t rush a statue. He just stood there, soaking in the calm radiating off of her, feeling safe.
But deep spiritual resonance couldn’t compete with a beeping, spinning droid.
The astromech let out a loud, excited warble, its dome rotating and flashing in the deck lights. Weyneâs head snapped toward the noise, the Nice Lady instantly forgotten. She was safe, but the metal friend was doing things.
He pivoted on his heel and waddled straight for Kalen’s droid, reaching out a sticky hand to pat the chassis.
“Shin-ee,” he mumbled around his thumb, happy once more.
<@1178915035049902120> <@189568236201705472>
What the R3 droid had said that came across as unintelligible beeps to the youngling was, “You humanoids and your abstract relationships…”
As the thumb sucking one reversed himself amd started back towards him with an outstretched hand, the droid began a series of oddly esoteric calculations.
What were the risks of letting the kid touch him? What kind of bacteria and diseases might it be carrying? Did it have latent telekinetic powers that would frack his sith right up? Did he really care if he brought back some diseases or bacteria that might in infect his ungrateful lazy crew of ugnaught gunners? Did he want to engage with this diminutive and quite obviously not fully matured humanoid any more?
At the last minute Reece deployed his jump thrusters and hopped about 20 feet away. What then developed was an impromptu version of the game ‘tag’ with several of children joining in in an attempt to tag the fleeing droid. The cycle of the pack of younglings rushing over to the astromech and him in turn using his thrusters to jump to another location kept repeating for several minutes.
Elsewhere, Kalen and Corra had found a few lounge chairs on the patch of ‘beach’ next to the wave pool, and had struck up a conversation with a couple who had taken a seat at the chairs nearby. Meanwhile Karracca had found a large beach umbrella and sprawled himself out for one of his customary naps.
The Fallen Spear didnât need to drop its cloaks for them to know that he was near.
Echoes and shadows whispered his presence in ways that were unmistakable. He had never bothered to conceal his signature in the Force, and some had wondered if he even could, after all that had happened, after all he had done. To those who knew him well it was a comfort. To those who only knew him from the battlefield, from the stories, it was deeply unnerving, an unsettling mystery that tugged at the unevolved parts of their brain.
The transport appeared out of the maw of nowhere, angling toward the Voidbreaker II languidly. The pilots of the ships corresponded, arranging for the Theta-class to enter the hangar.
A few minutes later, heavy black boots, a silver ring held strapped to each side, came down the ramp, a hover-cart following him. He made his way toward the lifts, turning to face the door as they sealed him and the hovercart in. Lights flickered past his face, black eyes passively watching the decks fly by before the doors slid open again, the scene unfolding before him. How she had managed to get this much⌠frivolity installed on such notice was impressive. Stepping out, he took the chaos in, the hovercart moving to his side as he adjusted to the brightness, to a party that most would have guessed he was unlikely to attend.
Valara blinked once. Twice. Then she remembered herself and took on a ramrod straight stance. Her arms folded behind her back and she couldn’t help but adopt the haughty air that she imagined a naval commander wears like a cloak.
“Yes, quite. I will endeavour to avoid any unwanted streams of liquid attack,” the Kiffar stated, her eyes taking in all that was Socorra. Her tone was controlled and authoritative. “I shall find my way to the drinks then.”
After the Nocte Drakon finished docking, and Tahiri had made sure that everything was set, the petite Togruta watched as her brother fussed over his daughter, her niece. He was making sure the arm floaties that he bought her, were blown up perfectly and fit her arms. Sighing, Tahiri shook her head and gathered the two of them, plus the two pets she had allowed to come, and quickly made their way to the fourth floor.
Upon arriving at the floor, and stepping off the lift, they all instantly felt the temperature. She fully understood now why it was called a beach party, and she was happy she had a simple coverlet over her traditional Togrutan outfit, instead of the cloak. Ro was wearing a simple vest and shorts, with sandals, while Zeva had on a pretty light blue sun dress, with her one piece swimsuit underneath.
Tahiri petted Mireth, as the Tailring rested on her shoulder. While Zeva ran over to the present bin to place the small gift she carefully wrapped,
“Oooh something smells really good,” Ro grinned at the food.
After firing at Alex, Syk spotted Korvis blasting in Kirra’s direction with a barrage of water. Seeing as she was locked down, she set her sights on the mando.
“Can’t have him win too easily can we?” The Sith chuckled gleefully and besides she was sort of enjoying the chaotic fun.
Having pumped it to full, Syk uncloaked from the left side of the room across the hot tub, slithered forward to get in range and fired a loaded jetstream of water directly for the side of Korvis.
Kirra giggled and let out an excited screech as the combined fire helped. “Thank you kindly for the assistance!” she called out to the Thisspiassian. She wanted to ask her so many questions, but knew it wouldn’t be polite. Especially in the heat of War.
“You are welcome youngling.” She chuckled as she focused on Korvyn.
Soaked from head to toe by the streams of water from his assailants Korvyn put his hands up. Water dripped from his elbows in steady drip forming a large pool underneath him. Thankfully the temperatures on deck 4 had been increased so he wasn’t freezing.
“I surrender, I know when I am outmatched by a superior opponent.” Korvyn said loudly. “And I need a drink.”
He heard a loud giggle from Kirra as one last stream of water hit him in the chest.
“Victory, oya!” Kirra exclaimed. She then offered a polite bow towards Korvyn.
“You’d make a fine Mando'a.” He replied with a bow.
Syk grinned as she stopped firing and saluted to Kirra, giving her a wink. “Aye congrats lass, you win and good thing this Mando is smart and knows when he needs to surrender.” She then slithered up to Kirra and lowered herself down to face the youngling. “I think you would make a fine warrioress. You got some skill and I think with a bit more practice, you will even surpass this one.” Smiling to Korvyn, she took out a small silverish looking coin with a carved mouse creature on it and handed it to Kirra. “Here a medallion I carved on my home planet. I think it would serve a better purpose in your hands.”
Kirra’s mismatched colored eyes widened slowly and then began to sparkle. “Thank you ever so much!” She bowed and then made a polite curtsey, clutching the coin like a new found treasure. “I will keep it safe.”
“You are welcome, I have no doubts.” She smiled softly. “You enjoy the day and have fun, I need to get a drink. All that water blasting has gotten me parched.” Still smiling, Syk then made her way towards the Tiki bar for something to drink. So far, this had been a most pleasant day.
Socorra watched as one boy rushed to hug a droid and the other tackled Miho. She knew what Turi meant - the comma mattered - but “Mama, Miho” was naturally sweet.
“Mama Miho sounds good on you,â she lightly chuckled. <@227653769842655233>
She had barely finished the sentence when a shadow loomed behind the High Councillor. Her single eye blinked as it adjusted to the figure.
Ashen?
It had registered well before then that he had arrived, but the realization hit her chest now with a warmth that the Black Sands spice couldn’t replicate. The tension in her shoulders didn’t disappear, but it changed flavor.
"Lord Ashen,” she greeted, her voice softening just a fraction, the gravel of it smoothing out into genuine welcome and surprise. “Welcome to Dajorra. You honor my house.”
She dipped her head, a sharp, respectful nod that was less party host and more acknowledging the Grandmaster and certainly how unexpected his appearance was. Then, her eye drifted to the sled.
It was dragged behind him like a payload. She looked from the cargo to the Lionâs face, looking for any sign of what the kark might be in that. No doubt he had planned somethingâŚspectacular.
At least he would likely be reasonable. Evant, on the other hand⌠three years later she still couldn’t give Turi that present.
Socorraâs good eye narrowed.
“You bring… heavy cargo,” she noted, her tone suspicious. “Is lot of cargo for one small boy, Musashi.”
She stepped back, waving him in toward the deck with a slight smirk. “Come. Park sled. Drink first. Unleash chaos on toddler second.”
The lift chimed again. Socorra turned, ready to greet the next wave, and spotted the Togruta delegation. Tahiri, her brother, and- Maker be praised - another child.
The Erinos Matriarchâs expression softened into the genuine relief of a mother who knew her son needed a pack to run with today.
She caught the man eyeing the buffet and grinning.
“Good nose,” Socorra called out to him. “Is all good meat, no frozen. All cooked on spit, too. Eat up, you look like you can handle spicy challenge.”
She dipped her head to the Quaestrix. “Tahiri, glad you made it! And you brought reinforcements.”
“And Miretâ,” she greeted familiarly to her tailring. “Good. My tree are lurking somewhere in rafters. Will be happy to see and conspire wit you. Try to keep ‘em out of punch bowl, sah?”
The woman crouched down slightly to look at Zeva in her sundress. “Hello, ad'ika,” she said, her voice dropping into that gentle register she reserved for the younglings. She pointed towards Turhaya. âIs birthday boy Turi… and over here, his cousins Weyne and Kirra. Boys are loud and sometimes chaos, but are good. Kirra is very nice.â
Socorra stepped down from her makeshift podium and spotted the first casualty. She didn’t intervene to save him. If anything, she enjoyed seeing the former ISB Director, usually so composed, dripping wet, and surrendering to a child. He wore “retirement” well, certainly better than she did.
âOya!â she repeated as Kirra scampered off to claim her victory. Socorra slid into the space she left, holding out a towel in one hand and a glass of amber liquid in the other.
“Tactical failure,” she said, her voice dry despite the humidity. She looked him up and down, a smirk playing on her lips as she took in the soaked clothes.
She shoved the drink into his hand, something very strong that tickled the nose.
“Is problem with retirement. Too many vacations. You get slow. You let guard down.”
Her eye crinkled at the corner, betraying the tease. She knew he had let Kirra win, and she liked him for it.
“But you surrender with dignity. Is good. Mando respect good loser almost as much as winner.”
She leaned in, keeping a straight face as she gestured at the puddle forming around his boots - ignoring the fact that the entire deck was currently being hosed down by multiple children with the weapons she provided.
“Here. Towel,” she commanded, feigning annoyance. “You are getting my floor wet.”
As the spontaneous game of ‘catch the flying astromech’ with several of the children morphed back into the water blaster based tactical excersize, Reece took his leave and bumpily rolled himself over the uneven sand to Kalen and Corra’s beach chairs.
“You were so cute with younglings Reece. I snapped a few holo’s of the boys chasing you as you were hopping around with your thrusters.” Corra smiled as she showed Reece the vids on her holo-recorder.
“Figured they’d get far more tired more quickly considering their lack of skeletal and muscular developement. Beats me where they store the excess energy reserves for such sustained activity in those small bodies.” The R3 droid beeped and booped, forgetting thst Corra didnt speak binary.
“Uh…” Corra blinked a few times as she knew the droid had probably just given her a multi sentence response based on the long series of digital toots, beeps and whistles.
Reece projected a written translation in Basic infront of Corra, who quickly read it and laughed.
“Most parents are often left wondering where they get the energy too.”
“Andrenaline, dopamine, and over-active melatonin inhibitors.” Karracca said as he walked up.
Taking the towel Korvyn wiped his face with it. It did little good to try to dry off his shirt and shorts. The warm air would handle that in time. In the mean time he had his drink still had a gift to deliver.
“It’s good to see you too, Lady Erinos.” he said with a wry smile.
“A gift for Turi.” He handed her a new training dart launcher and paint-dart ammo in various colors. “Should be able to get into plenty of trouble with these.”
With the VIPs accounted for, the door was starting to crowd. The deck was already chaos - children shouting, water flying from the few weapons that had been sitting out. She had been planning this for weeks, but this year was wildly different. The woman took a deeper breath, forcing air into her lungs. She stood up straighter, her spine going rigid. The exhaustion vanished behind the mask.
âCome, come!â Socorra called out, her voice cutting through the noise with practiced authority. She gestured grandly to the buffet she had slaved over. âHave drink. Take seat. Try food! I make import from all over. Almost all you can eat - soups, salads, greens, meats.â
âNo-spice to Black Sands scorch. Challenge me and win, you get prize!â
She flipped a datapad into her hands and jabbed at a command onscreen. The various decorated crates on the deck suddenly popped open with a hiss, revealing the cornucopia of toys she had personally stocked: heavy foam swords soaked and ready for bludgeoning, trash-can lids painted as riot shields, buckets of “thermal detonator” water balloons, and rows of high-pressure soakers arranged like rifles in an armory.
The adults could ignore the kids; At least it wasnât glitter cannons.
âArmory is open!â she shouted over the squeals. âHydro-blasters, swords, shields, ânades. Grab weapon. Watch your back.â
Morgan took her sweet time getting to the party having indulged in a tour of the ship with her bosun, a blue-skinned Pantoran woman roughly a head taller than her. Both of them were donned in summer hats, sunglasses, flip flops, obviously large handbags and rather conservative swimsuits. Children were mentioned, this was their party so Morgan ordered only Torve accompany her while she handled the dress code.
“I like what they’ve done with the place,” the Captain mused. “Maybe we can do something similar on deck three, there’s that empty jail block we set up for the Cerifisis raid. We don’t use it much.” She looked around, slightly unconvinced. “Maybe not a beach, though.”
Torve was writing down notes, clearly appreciative of the idea. “Maybe a few jacuzzies, a sauna, massage parlor?”
Morgan gave her a quizzically-annoyed look â her resting face when someone said something dumb. “A massage parlor? And who would do the massaging? You put girls other than you on that ship, and I’ll have to kill a few of our own men just to keep their hands off of them.” She stared into the distance in horror. “Imagine the paperwork.”
“Alright, no massage parlor. Maybe even the jacuzzies, but I draw the line at a sauna. I like my saunas.” Torve put her foot down, determined to get her way.
“We can do both, as long as the boys get along and stay 5 foot apart…if you know what I mean.” Torve chortled as they finally reached the entrance to the party and paused. It was…chaos. Children dashing to-and-fro, weapons in hands, adults drinking or eating away from the wholesale sponge-beatings and furious water-splashing.
“Remind you of something?” Morgan quipped, a smirk caressing her face.
“A happier lifestyle? A morally-uplifting existence? The juxtaposition of the working class slummers who can barely afford a shower versus the wealthy elite having a beach party on their ship?”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “No. They look just like the boys when they get rowdy. Though, with a lot less blood, and fewer bruises and broken noses.”
“Oh, yeah now that you mention it, it does.” Torve’s smirk widened as Morgan shook her head. Smartass.
A dollop of water passed over Morgan’s head and landed on Torve’s chest with a spatter, coating her face, swimsuit and datapad. She stiffened with momentary shock.
“Good thing we wore these, huh?” She sighed as the shock evaporated behind a smile.
With an amused snort, Morgan strode into the party towards its host. “I figure if we put our heads together, we can see double!” She drew Socorra’s attention before adding, “nice party you have here.”
At the sound of “Lady Erinos,” her nose wrinkled in reflex, a sharp exhale leaving her pierced nostrils.
“Oi⌠makes me sound like I own… fancy Tooka.”
But then the weapon appeared. The woman set her drink down and took the training launcher from Korvyn. She turned it over in her burn-scarred hands, checking the receiver and the paint-ammo capacity.
“Paint darts,” Socorra said flatly, her vowels clipped and low, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “You did not bring for him. You bring to sabotage me. When he paint mural on ship bridge? I send cleaning bill to ISB.”
She didn’t care that Korvyn was retired. She just enjoyed the thought of sending the ISB a bill.
“T'ank you, is very kind. He will love it. Now, drink before you rust.”
The Mandalorian stashed the gift and picked up her own drink. She stepped in close and tilted her chin up to look him in the eyes, pointing her bottle at his chest like a weapon.
“Or stay sober. But then you face me in wing challenge. Hope you like hot osik.â
“Of course, Socorra. Wouldn’t miss out on this fun event, especially when there’s kiddo involved and I can bring my little brother and niece,” Tahiri dipped her head in turn with respect, smiling.
Eeth'Mireth’s eyes sparkled with the familiar mischeviousness, however she still politely crooned her thanks, and bowed her head respectfully. Then nuzzling Tahiri’s chin, the little Tailring uncoiled her tail from her master’s Lekku and unfurled her wings, taking off to go find her trio of friends.
“Ah hells yeah! I can totally take on any spicy challenge!” Ro declared with enthusiasm and a cocky smile.
“Ah huh,” Tahiri rolled her eyes at her brother. “You could barely handle the wasabi when I introduced you to sushi.”
“Hey, that was your fault! You didn’t tell me that I wasn’t supposed to eat the whole pile of green stuff,” wrinkling his nose as he shot a glare at his sister. “Anyways, if you think I can’t handle it, then why don’t you join me?”
Raising her eyebrow, the petite Togruta cocked her head at his cocky smile and brash challenge.
“I might just take you up on that, however I’m going to greet a few friends before entreating you to the pain of defeat.”
Zeva had curtsied and smiled brightly, “Hello Miss Socor-ra. Thank you for the invitation, I’ve been excited to meet more friends.”
Looking up at her father and aunt, wanting to get confirmation before leaving their sides. “Father? Can I go join them?”
“Of course, sweety,” Ro looked down, his smile turning softer. “Just let me know when you’re going into the water, ok?”
“Thanks papa! I will!” she cheerfully took off to join the other children.
Ro-Tahn nodded to Socorra and then head over the food tables to look everything over and consider his game plan, while Tahiri left to walk around for a moment.
After another ‘nap’ under a nearby beach umbrella Karracca awoke, shock the sand off and headed over to the meat table that still appeared well stock with mound of various types of flesh.
As he stomped past Kalen, Corra and Reece in the distant the astromech chided, with his singsong cocophony of beeps and boops, “That’s a hunger walk, big boys a mission.”
Kalen meanwhile had caught Tahiri’s eye and waved his old boss over.
“Hi Kalen.” She said as she came over.
“How are you doing boss?”
“Oh, did your brother and niece come with you?” Reece excitedly asked.
“Yeah, think they over by water there.”
“Hehehe, nice, the hunted become the hunter.” Reece replied in binary before deploying his jump thrusters and zooming off.
Tahiri raised an eyebrow after getting the translation.
“Well, I’m gonna just say good luck. Ro is quite the bounty hunter,” a coy smirk spread across her face. “And Zeva has great aim.”
“Glad to see you again, Kalen, Corra,” chuckling a little. “I’m doing well. I hear the homestead is doing well. How’s the peach cider coming along?”
Syk had coiled herself up near a chair close by the tiki bar after she got some cherry cordial to drink. Her ocean blue eyes observed Tahiri speaking to some others. Not really knowing many here, she felt a bit like an outsider. Shy as she was, the Sith did still want to learn and get to know others from across the brotherhood.