Session export: Joruub'Mando'ade

A YT-2400 Light Freighter screeched overhead, buzzing a tower that might not have actually been there. The ship zipped around and banked into a fancy turn, then approached the designated gathering area. The ship found a spot off to the side and touched down, then the landing ramp slowly extended down.

A purple-beskar-clad woman stepped into frame, her helmet tucked under one arm with its unique ear molds. Her indigo hair was braied and over one shoulder. Beside her, was a sighing Zeltron.

“That was totally wicked,” Zig whispered excitedly to Nicfer. “I haven’t actually gotten to fly a ‘2400 with that kid of ignition before! If you want, I can make some additional modifications…”

<@163419371568365568>

“So long as they are the modifications I want.”

Nicfer growled. Barely keeping her tone in check. She ran her fingers though her blue hair to get it styled back in place. She looked like she had been trying to fix bed her bed head.

“As you OWE me for stealing my ship with me in it. Did you even know I was on board? Or is this an accidental kidnapping to…”

She finally paused to look around where they had landed as she switched from fixing her hair to adjusting her black cloak that concealed her black armored atire.

“Where did you even take me?”

She switched from fidding with her cloak to putting in her numerous earings in each ear. Becides the earrings she was putting in, she looked like she was gearing up for a mission. One she was ill prepared for.

“What mission did you just drag me on?”

“Of course I knew you were on it!” Zig rolled her eyes and threw her armored arms up over her head. “You told me to make myself at home. If you were being sarcastic, how was I supposed to know? Anyway, I got excited and since I didn’t want to disturb your nap but I figured I would take it for a quick spin.”

She gestured with her hands as she talked. “And then while hovering I got a call to meet up here, because Jax and Brill asked, and I wanted you to meet them so…”

She blinked. “I guess it’s a… Social mission? We’re uh, observing tactically a rival clans home planet…” she said in a loud, conspiratorial whisper.

Koda was the first to stand up of the Kendis crew when the ship landed. His helmet was clipped to his belt on his back right side. “I know this goes without saying, but please be on your best behavior. Not only are we here for good relations in general, we are also wanting to keep good clan relations. I don’t need to give my grandmother another reason for my head. Leonidas joined us to act as an additional liaison for Galeres.”

Leonidas gave a sigh of relief once the ship landed, “Another happy landing.” He focused on Koda as he spoke and gave a nod of acknowledgement when he was referred to. “I’ll try my best not to interfere with your families affairs, but I must say it’s entertaining to learn about.” He gave a radiant smile. “I do look forward to learning more about Clan Kendis, especially from Miss Ellisyn and the Illustrious Rue.”

<@301514304845381632> <@244244163002892288>

As they landed, the Erinos and associated other Mandalorians of their own clans now harbored in Dajorran space prepared themselves. Despite indeed being present as the most senior member of any of the clans, Jax Erinos Settgré did not immediately take the lead descending from the yacht’s ramp. Rather, before the door lowered, he spent a moment with Minnow holding up a compact for him to give his silvering copper locks a last check in the mirror, smoothing and combing strands meticulously into place. A last check of his armor, proudly adjusting the bright hazel tassel of a wedded man on his pauldron, the exact shade as his mate and husband’s eyes. His helmet stayed under his sole arm, not only to prevent helmet hair but to show his face and present a peaceful overture.

It was possible not all the Mandalorians of Viszlan space would approve – there had been a rise in the once-extremeist views of the Death Watch culture following the rise and fall of the Empire – but if anyone was going to shun him for it, then he would expect them to bring the challenge to his face.

Once satisfied, he nodded to his littlest sister, smoothed his ponytail again, and signalled for those gathered to begin disembarking, waving with the same hand signals he had used his entire career between the Erinos Mandalorians and the Arconan Armed Forces.

-

“Remember, all of you!”

His voice raised in address, a booming General’s call, even if his tone was invigorating.

“We are here to forge bonds, not spill blood. Weapons are to stay peacebond unless your lives or the lives of another are in danger. If you wish to duel or scrap, have witnesses and seconds from both parties and alert myself and the Viszlan alor first. I know that we are here to drink and be merry, but take care not to make great fools of yourselves or your clans. We are guests. If I catch you pissing a gullet of ale on someone’s property, you will be cleaning it with a toothbrush. Are we understood? Good! Then otherwise, a cheer to new friends made this day, and the joy of our families. OYA OYA OYA!”

“OYA!” Minnie screamed next to Bril, dressed too in her armor, which had been a rarer occasion lately since Bril had begun asking her to stay behind on missions. She pat their anooba, who was perking at the noise, and smiled to Bril, even if he could see and sense her nerves. They were steeling. Should anyone threaten her clan or her Kitty, she’d be the first one throwing a gauntlet.

<@1056685516441006091>

The last to stand of the Kendis trio was its newest member, waiting deferentially for everyone else present to unbuckle or rise before he dared to. He was also the only one present of the yacht, it seemed, at least that he had seen so far, not bedecked in iron-hearted armor.

No, rather, the strangest hybrid among them wore a white dress, his metallic, chromatic hair split into massive twin braids that ran down his back and united into one in the middle. Each was threaded with red and gold ribbons in a complex waterfall, and more ribbons were used to tie yellow and red flowers about his person, dripping from his almost skeletally narrow waist and single arm, knotted around his bare feet in place of any shoes. Between the solid white of the dress, he was a match, at least in color, for Ellysin and Koda’s armors.

At his knees was a pygmy diploMott, known quite well amidst some parts of the Brotherhood already. Alk didn’t wear his envoy or emissary sashes this time, nor his tux. Instead, Rue had learned of the dyeing of ties from Sulla, one of Elly’s daughters he took care of, and made a previously only white bandana into a red white and yellow one. The Mott was impatient to be off the spacecraft, and stomped and jumped excitedly, anticipating outside.

“This one is no such thing as illustrious, unless Sir Master Leonidas means its hair, which indeed due to the higher iron and cobalt levels present in its cells reflects light when struck.”

She stopped moving. Hand no longer working on getting her last earing in. Her expression switching from mild annoyance to extreme frustration. Punctuated by her narrowing eyes and glaring.

“Please do not tell me you stole me and my ship to drag me to a party.”

She wanted to turn on her heels and march back up the ramp to her ship and take off, but she still couldn’t get a good read on Zig and didn’t know how much was truth. Nicfer was also positive Zig had changed the startup controls to make sure Nicfer wouldn’t leave her behind.

“You know there is a difference between make yourself at home and taking my ship on a joy ride?”

Nicfer acts out a conversation between them.

“Hey Nic, can I borrow your ship?”

“Sure, if you stop calling me Nic.”

“Oh right. Oh, I was going to meet some people, did you want to come Nic?”

“Sure, I’m bored to tears and have nothing else going on. And stop calling me Nic.”

“Cool, we leave in five minutes. See you then Nic.”

Nicfer mimes shooting Zig with a stunner.

“See, would have have been so hard?”

Socorra stood on the sunbaked platform, full armor gleaming beneath Zsoldos’ sun, the gray and white of her reforged Erinos Family beskar’gam freshly oiled and marked. The Erinos sigil, proud and sharp, was etched into the left pauldron.

The woman stood to one side of the main landing area, helmet tucked under one arm, a new bottle hanging low from the other. A breeze whipped at her black and white braids, making them slap lightly against her armored back. Socorra watched the ramps lower on both ships and everyone pile out. She caught a glimpse of the last movement inside. Was that a mirror compact? Hair being combed?

A slight chuckle escaped her lips. “Maker help us all,” she muttered.

Finally out came Jax, his copper mane combed to shining, his wedding tassel prominently adjusted, and every inch of him radiating command and care. The moment she saw him, her face widened with something raw and radiant, a fire not of sorrow, but pride. A fire old and familiar and familial, finally given reason to burn again.

Socorra stepped forward finally. Her helm remained under one arm. Her voice carried easily.

“Vod’ika!” She stopped just shy of the bottom of the ramp, chin tilted. “Dat compact in your hand, or just checkin’ for assassin droid in reflection?”

The corner of her ruby lips lifted just a little in a smirk, slow and real. Her fingers tightened slightly around the bottle to finally take a sip.

And then, half-hidden behind the sweeping hem of Jax’s kama, she saw him. The littlest Erinos.

Small and familiar. Dark hair with a streak of white, mussed from travel, brilliant turquoise-blue eyes wide as twin moons as he stepped cautiously down the ramp just behind his towering uncle. One small Human hand clutched the fabric near Jax’s side like a security blanket.

Her breath caught. The bottle dropped. For a second, she didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Socorra had asked Jax. Not expecting anything, or even hoping, but she had asked since he was coming. And now… there he was. The smirk faltered, replaced by something raw, open, and terribly human.

“Come here, ad'ika!” she said, voice hoarse.

Socorra dropped to her knees. Her arms flung wide. Armor groaned softly under the motion, but she didn’t notice. Didn’t care. Sand bit into the seams of her greaves, but she was already bracing for something far more painful, something she wanted so badly it ached.

Turi broke into a run.

“Buir!”

It rang across the pad like a blaster crack, full of joy and desperation all at once. By the time his arms hit her chest, she was ready. Her arms locked around him hard, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other wrapped across his shoulders.

Socorra’s one good eye squeezed shut. Her forehead pressed to his hair. Her side throbbed where armor met skin, the pressure sharp where she hadn’t yet healed. But she held steady. He didn’t need to know that part.

“Missed you,” she whispered. Her voice barely made it past her throat.

“Me too,” Turi sniffled, tears rolling down the armor.

Eventually, the sounds around them returned. Bootfalls, low voices, the distant bark of a Vizslan sentry. Socorra exhaled against Turi’s hair and pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face.

“Come,” she said, voice low and proud. “We show them how Erinos walk.”

Socorra rose, one hand gripping his tightly. The same bottle now lay forgotten in the dust, its amber contents catching the sun. And somewhere in Dajorra, Ruka smiled.

Turning to face the others, Arconans and Vizslans both, she straightened her spine and lifted her voice just enough to carry.

“My son,” she said proudly, her voice clear. “Turhaya Atticus Erinos Tyris—my Bright Star.”

Socorra leaned down slightly, booping his nose with one fingertip.

She looked up again, expression cool but glowing. Seeing one of the Vizslans watching nearby, she beckoned him forward with a slight tilt of her head.

“Arconans,” she said. “Dis Haro, Quaestor of House Wren.”

Socorra gave Haro a respectful nod, then turned back to Turi.

Grunting softly, she crouched and swept him into her arms. The weight tugged at still-healing muscles, her balance wavering under armor too heavy for her now. For a second, it looked like she might not make it upright.

But she did.

Turi perched against her hip, legs wrapped around her waist, higher than the crowd and proud as any prince. He beamed, chin lifted like he owned the stars. Socorra steadied herself, one boot sliding slightly on the sand before she locked her stance.

Turi raised a fist high above her shoulder and let out a triumphant cry. “Oya!”

<@244244163002892288> <@963939718909792256> <@189568236201705472>

Zig watched with rap attention as Nicfer told her story. She made sure to keep her focus and not get distracted by the earrings being shiny. What kind of metal were they-

“-Yeah, but we’re here now, eh?” she replied when Nicfer finished her performance. “No use in crying over spilled blue milk. Now, come on, there’s some folks I want you to meet. Need to get you out of your bubble.”

Zig looped her arm with Nicfer, ignoring the death glare the Zeltron leveled at her, and proceeded down the ramp.

“Sugar Car, Vodk-a’s!” Zig drawled as she, unintentionally, butchered the Mando'a words for Su cuy'gar vod'ika / Greetings friends. She approached the group with Nicfer in tow.

She beamed a grin up at Jax Erinos, pleased with herself in remembering his lessons on Mando'a.

“No such thing, hm?” Leonidas reached out his arm, his palm and fingers extended, tapped both of Rue’s shoulders as if he was being knighted, “There, now you have the title of Illustrious because I deemed it as such. Any objections?” He looked around, “No? Fantastic.”

Haro smiled slightly as he saw Socorra embrace her son. He watched for a moment more, then turned to address the visitors, leaning on his cane for balance. “Olarom, burc'ye! As much as I would like to be fighting right now, it is my honor to be here with you today.” There was a long pause as he tried to think of what to say, then “kriff the formalities, just come have a drink or sh'ehn! We’ve got gal from all across the galaxy! Enjoy yourselves!”

“Who’s crying? I’m tempted to stun you over spiller blu-.”

Nicfer cuts herself off from ranting and takes a breath. Her glare is still there, but she’s no longer venting her frustration on the situation.

“Fine. Let’s meet folks. Just remember, I have a bubble for a reason. My attitude is lethal with in two meters. I just don’t know why you’re immune.”

She spoke as she allowed Zig to drag her along. Only shutting up when Zig started speaking to others. Nicfer’s expression made it hard to tell if she was following what Zig was saying. Nicfer was too busy channeling the expression of a pet Loth-cat being dragged around by the tail and resigned to their fate.

A mrrPp! of deep surprise and bashfulness bordering on horror left Rue, who initially flinched slightly at the touch and then started stammering, grabbing at his cheerfully wagging tail tip as if to wrestle it into submission.

“S-sir, Master Leonidas, s-surely this one…” He seemed to be struggling to come up with a rebuttal to because I said so when that sort of thing had been the literal word of God to him for over a century. Also, that was why Elly was always right, particularly to the children. “O-o-ooohhh…alright.”

He slumped, looking as though a faint breeze would blow his Illustriousness over.

Jax’s expression twitched with pain at her pronunciation even as he waved to Zig and Nicfer beside her, his smile wide and genuine. It was already wide for how Socorra hailed him, seeing her again, and the joy in Turi’s run as he finally sprinted towards his mother and was lifted high. He did not try to hide his fangs; Kobign had shown him how not to need to.

“Oya, Tur'haya!” he bellowed back, and then, to Haro, also in Mando'a, “Pleased to share your hearth and home with you, brethren. And certainly drinks a plenty!”

<@141239709291511808> <@963939718909792256>

Beside Bril, Minnie squeezed his hand back, even as her heart squeezed at the maternal reunion, for multiple reasons– including Bril’s obvious feeling towards it. Seeing Jax taking the lead with the Vizslans as their alor'ad, Minnow figured she’d need to introduce herself as one of the clan’s newly elected councillors soon, but for the moment, sensed An Introvert afoot.

Of course, Zig yelling about socializing while dragging the woman along helped clue in. There was also Morra’s mother doing her best impression of a wall decoration, but one at a time.

“Hi there!” she said as she pulled her partner along to approach the duo. “Zig,” she greeted, recognizing one of her eldest brother’s friends, and then, “who’s this?”

<@163419371568365568> <@189568236201705472> <@1056685516441006091>

Now dubbed Illustrious, Rue fiddled with one of his ribboned braids, starting to put a knuckle in his mouth to gnaw on before catching it and pulling away. Greetings and shouting in another language. A happy healthy litlun and his mother. Taller hybrids and Stratosa Bril and various others… Leonidas’ endorsement and Koda and Elly trailing.

Rue noted a Twi'lek lurking, off to the side of the ramp from Bril’s ship. Was he alright?

Wandering over, the shiny hybrid drew a flower from the basket he carried and offered it up.

“Pardon, Sir, would you like a flower?”

<@697332548505960459>

With his night black beskar’gam repaired and freshly painted House Nilim and House Acyk sigils’ prominently displayed on both pauldrons, Tyga tucked his helm underneath him arm and followed everyone down the ramp and watched as Socorra and Turi reunited. A chuckle escaped his lips as Rue was “knighted” and then took in the surroundings - Zsoldos was an interesting place and it seemed to be ripe for exploration.

“Pardon Sir, would you like a flower?” his lekku pricked up and he saw that Rue was holding out a flower from the basket towards him in kindness.

“Vor'e, Rue,” Tyga smiled and he tucked the vibrant flower in his chest armour, making sure it was not going to fall out. Although his Mandalorian was a bit rusty, he could still manage to converse.

“May The Great Mother Goddess Kika’lekki bless you for your kindness,” Tyga placed a hand upon Rue’s shoulder and looked around as everyone else in the party had settled down and were catching up.

Zig looked between Bril and Nicfer, blinking once, then looking at Jax, and then back to the Zabrak.

“YOU’RE BRIL,” she exclaimed in sudden realization.

This is why she usually was assigned to an engineering pod.

Rue’s face lit at mention of a goddess and acceptance of the flower, though he did flinch minutely at the Twi'lek’s touch. Still, he smiled shyly at the man.

“Ba-geh-deht-yey.” he enunciated carefully, recognizing the simple thanks. “Apologies, Sir, this one does not know your name…nor very much Mando'a yet. It seeks to learn eventually. Its– my adoption was recent. May I ask, who are you? And who is the Great Mother Goddess Kilaeki? This one also worships the Goddess, and She is the Mother also, but this is not Her name.”

(Meanwhile, nearby, Jax’s keen ears flicked alert upright and in the direction of his Goddess’ name too. A softness came to his smile, smooth like an old stone worn with age.)

With a flourish that all Nilims’ and Acyks’ were renowned for over the centuries, Tyga held a closed fist against his chest armour and bowed to Rue, the traditional Acyk and Nilim family greeting.

“My name is Tyga Orn Nilim, first son of Cal Acyk and Saruse Nilim,” Tyga said with a smile. “My ancestry stretches back centuries into the dark times. Eventually, both sides of my family were cast out of traditional Twi’lek and Mandalorian society due to our Force sensitivity and alignments with the Jedi. But after our gallantry against enemies of the galaxy, we have been welcomed back and the past is all forgiven,” but Tyga stopped himself, not wanting to bombard Rue with a history lesson.

As Rue asked about Kika’lekki, Tyga’s lekku scratched at the back of his head, he chuckled. “I do not want to bombard you with every little detail about her, but in short, Kika’lekki is the creator of all life within the galaxy and the Twi’lek race were her chosen people to lead the galaxy into a new era of enlightenment and paradise, where the Dark Side will no longer reside…” he showed Rue his Kika’lekki necklace that had protected him since birth and since he had joined the Brotherhood.

As Nicfer was approached by a new comer and her ex boss, she dialed in. This wasn’t a mission, but it wouldn’t do to glare and kick rocks like a child forced to attend an event not made for them. The last bit of resistance she gave was her muttering out the side of her mouth to Zig.

“I’m going to strap you to the hull on the way back.”

And with that, she did her best to dial everything back in. A bit more relaxed posture instead of stiff and uneasy, netural expression instead of a scowl, and a tone that was at least professional sounding instead of dry sarcasm. She addressed Minnow first.

“No one important. Im the unexpected plus one of Zig.”

She nods to Bril and was relieved when he didn’t bring up anything more than having worked for the Marshals.

“As ex-bossman said, I’m Nicfer and use to be a Marshal before being bounced to… other duties.”

She bit the inside of her mouth to prevent talking further on the matter.

“And I’ve been fine. Nothing of note really. Assigned some ter-. Some borning tasks and passed around. Zig just seems keen on dragging me out into the light.”

Zig pretended to look affronted. “Who am I, pfft…” She blew a rouge strand of indigo flyaway hair out of her face. She smirked when she heard Nicfers side-comment. Don’t threaten me with a good time

“Yup, that’s me, I am indeed Zig Kaliska,” she replied to Bril. “Vice captain of the Voidbreaker, my good-Doctor!” she made to curtsey, despite wearing full plate armor.

Minnie broke out into a secretive grin, winking at Nicfer.

“You’re not no one, Nicfer! I remember you. You might not recognize me in full armor– I usually showed up to training with Kitty here lighter. Or looking totally cute.” She nudged Bril, hands flying while she signed along with her speech and big smile. “Don’t worry! You’re being adopted by more extroverts now, but I pinkie promise we’ll mind your bandwidth. Zig, good to see you again.”

Rue didn’t seem bothered by the bombardment at all– rather he scrambled to pull a small notebook out from under the flowers in his basket and propped it on the rim, writing quickly. Most of it seemed like scratching symbols.

“How do you spell these names?” he asked, and then, studying the necklace, began sketching a likeness. “This is interesting. Your religion contradicts this one’s own. Or perhaps Kikalekii is another name for what is actually the same Goddess as this one’s, and your people’s interpretation crafted Her in your image with Twi'leks as Her chosen.”

“C-A-L and S-A-R-U-S-E,” Tyga said slowly and deliberately, spelling out each letter so Rue could write them down. Tyga cocked his head to one side at Rue’s statement. “The same goddess but with a different name? I am quite curious now to find out how that is - could you kindly elaborate Rue?”

He held out the necklace further, so Rue could get all the small details in the sketch. “I am definitely sure you would get along great with my folks and family. They always enjoy meeting my Arconae family,” Tyga smiled and then he returned the necklace underneath his armour to keep himself safe.

“Well,” Rue began as he sketched, shifting to write down the names when he was done, his Aurebesh script elegant and flowing compared to the coded scrawl. “This one’s creators, the Masters and Mistresses, follow Lord God, whose name this one is not worthy to speak, but whose symbol is thusly imprinted upon it since it was created, along with its identification code. So too was this one taught to worship God. However, my Grandmother also taught me of her Goddess, that of her Ryn clan, who is a goddess of many and all. Hers is the Night, and the Moon and Stars, secrets and shadows and safety. Mysteries and magic and life. To Grandmother and myself, She is the Goddess.

However, upon coming to the Outside, I have also studied many new subjects, and discovered not only multiple ideologies and representations of the Force besides God and Her Ladyship as I know them, but also multiple different theologies, pantheons, and styles of worship. The Selenians for instance are animistic and polytheistic. They have more than one god or goddess and have many spirits for multiple things– this one has not studied overly much though. The Jedi apparently practiced their own form of observation of the Force, as do several other Sith, which are again different from this one’s masters.

It stands to reason that, as to you and your people, the only and chief mother goddess is Kika'lekki, and to this one it is my Goddess, that as these are mutually exclusive, either neither is true, or both are. Regardless, it presents two possible conclusions: that there are more than one goddesses who created ‘all life’ or that they are all the same, only interpreted differently across various species and cultures.”

It seemed Rue had excellent lung capacity, or just didn’t need to breathe as he rambled on.

ZIG KALISKA!

A modulated voice called from the top of the ramp. A diminutive figure in green camouflage armor began walking down the ramp with an ID10 droid perched on her back. the droid’s mono-lensed photoreceptor peeked over the woman’s shoulder from under an armored lekku. When she reached the bottom of the ramp, she stopped, her right hip cocked out with a hand resting on the Westar-35 that was holstered there. Her left hand tossed a stray lekku from where it had swung over her shoulder. She stood there silently for a moment, staring at Zig from behind a tinted T-visor.

“Givyerfrackin ears a tug.”

Zig’s ears did indeed perk and twitch at the familiar tone as she turned.

“Pitter patter, L'ara. Id’ give your Lek’ a tug but you’d like that far to much,” the Zygerrian chirped back, a fanged grin flashing over her face. “Your visor’s lookin like a bit smudgey. Spare-parts, bud.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. I might just take you up on it.”

She pulled the helmet off, letting her lekku slip out of their protective sleeves, before tucking it under one arm.

“The smudges are tactical. Reduces glare. Can’t spend a week in a hiding in a jungle just to be spotted because my visor was too clean and shiny.”

“Likewise,” Zig grinned, her eyes following Bril off before refocusing on present company.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Haro replied, switching his cane to his left hand temporarily and smacking his own hal'cabur. “Haro Zylrun, Quaestor of House Wren. I hope you enjoy your stay on Zsoldos.”

“Herro Haro,” Turi giggled, apparently pleased with himself.

Bril nodded to buir. Then to Haro. Not to him. Turi scowled slightly, watching the Zabrak like he’d just eaten the last cookie. He tapped on Socorra’s hand holding him steady.

“Mama, that one no look at me. He feels all stormy… but maybe he jus’ forgot manners.”

Then, louder, right at Bril and nearly at the same height: “Hi. I’m Turi. Y’missed me. That happens.”

He crossed his little arms, mimicking his parents’ best “not impressed” stance. Socorra, meanwhile, raised one brow with the smallest smirk of amusement and waited to see Bril’s reaction.

<@963939718909792256> <@1056685516441006091> <@189568236201705472>

“Not… particularly. We only recently got it reopened, so I’m only a few tuure into this position myself. What’s Galeres like?”

“Sounds like I’d fit in there pretty well then. Not quite as well as I fit in here, though. You want to spar sometime?”

“Meet so many Zeltrons with too many piercings and poor attitudes that we all blend together?”

Nicfer berated herself internally for letting that slip out when talking to Minnie. She needed to be friendly.

“Granted I am trained to fade into the background and blend. I should take it as a complement on my talents if I am hard to recall at a moments notice.”

‘Saved it,’ she thought to herself. Her attention shifted to Brill as they spoke up. She was a bit confused by the comment.

“Don’t know yet,” She commented to Bril before they took off. “Just getting started with them. Transfer is still new.”

She let it drop there.

The chaos of opening greetings was starting to wear Nicfer down. Being dragged in to a meeting of old friends was like not studying for a test you didn’t know you had. Everything was a surprise and everything felt like code. Especially the conversation between Zig and the L'ara. She tried not to stare too much they conversed. She decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut for the time being before she had a repeat of her attitude. Though she tried to make it looks like she was not hovering too close to Zig for comfort and familiarity.

Zig linked her arm with Nicfers without a word. She addressed Bril and others with a smile. “Still figuring out my grand master evil plan of where on the ship she’ll have to work. But we’ve got plenty of work to go around!”

Tyga nodded and his lekku scratched his head as Rue explained the religion and also the goddess that he worshipped.

“Ah, that makes sense Rue. I thank you kindly for taking the time to tell me about it. And there is something that I would like to ask - what are your thoughts on the Mandalorians and our ways of life?”

“Sure! What guidelines should we have? First blood? Tap out? I assume you don’t want deathmatch. Weapons? Bare hands? Armor or no? Level area? There’s so much kebise to figure out before we start.” Haro smiled, excited to fight this new opponent.

“No death matches!” Minnie hollered from over where she still stood with Nicfer, Zig, and L'ara.

Jax chuffed, saying as though aside to Socorra and Turi, “You owe me the five credits, I believe.” She had called they would drink first, whereas he had taken fighting. “Tur'haya, would you like to tell your mother about playing with Marrien Moon?”

<@141239709291511808> <@1056685516441006091> <@963939718909792256>

Zig held one hand up, as if being held at blaster point, proclaiming her innocence in these matters.

Rue finished his sketching and writing and tucked the notebook back away politely into his flower basket before he answered, biting nervously at one knuckle as his eyes cast down, shy.

“This one does not know very much of the Mandalorian ways yet– as it said, I am recently adopted, in the proper sense. I am trying to study the basics of the language, but this one was never challenged or allowed to learn other languages with its Masters, and it is finding the skill difficult – I feel as though barely rudimentary in Shiryyywook after a year of study and daily exposure and practice. Also, Elly does not have very much time to teach me of the Mandalorian ways, and Koda is also busy, now. Mostly, I have learned small things from Sulla – that is one of Elly’s daughters, one of my litluns – as she learned also from Elly but again, Elly is very busy. And it is a difficult subject for her. The Kendis Clan was long hidden, this one had learned.”

His saffron eyes flicked over to the armored siblings who had accompanied him.

“This one…does not care for violence. It does not want it. It will not wear armor or fight. It never wants to fight or to hurt or hunt or kill. None of these. I only want to help and heal and grow things and raise the children. Which they say I can do. But most of all they say I am family. Even though we are not biologically similar. And I think this is a kindness of your people.”

Rue’s statements about being an adopted Mandalorian but not wanting to fight, alongside his words of being family, but not similar had a definite ring of truth to it. His family’s clan, and House, went into hiding for a long time after they were exiled from Ryloth due to certain events that took place, leading to leap-frogging from one planet to another, trying to keep one step ahead of their pursuers.

“I do not blame you Rue and we can make our own decisions on what path to take in life and how best to serve others and those around us. And that we do - take my two favourite aunts in the entire galaxy - one is Twi’lek and her wife is Hapan. They are both different species’ to me, but are true Mandalorians in every sense of the word. I like to say that my extended family is made up of all the species of the rainbow. To me, family is more than blood and we do anything for each other…”

Turi solemnly tapped Bril’s fist once with his own, then leaned back with arms crossed and a smug tilt to his chin.

“We cool,” he declared. “Jus’… I’m little. Not inwizz… invizz…” He squinted, gave up.

“I had cookies once. That helps me forgive.”

Socks adjusted him on her shoulders, one hand resting lightly over his ankle.

“Mhm. Cookies explain the diplomacy.” She paused, smirking just enough to invite trouble. “Drama? He get that from Wyn.”

Turi nodded, satisfied. “That’s true.” Then he leaned forward slightly, like he was about to share a great secret. “I also get snacks.”

<@189568236201705472>

Ellisyn Kendis was silent as she followed the group of armor clad mandalorians out of the yacht, her helmet clipped safely to her hip. While the discomfort she felt from openly revealing her identity was immeasurable, the familiarity and relief of being in her armor once again, a relief that truly terrified her.

The youngest Kendis of the group’s tousled mane flowed behind her with every stride closer to the main group, her social anxiety bubbling to the surface once again. She didn’t have the safety of her helmet or the pretext of a courtroom to protect her. She felt as if she was on display despite being almost completely covered.

“I’ll keep my beskar on, then. Should we pull our punches, or full force? Tap out, or first blood?”

Haro moved to an empty spot and removed his weapons, placing them on the ground in a neat pile. He removed his shield and jetpack, keeping only his armor, vambraces, and cane. He took a swig from his flask before setting it down carefully, making sure it wouldn’t fall over.

He stood up, leaning on his cane for balance. “Pick the spot, Jedi.”

Koda made his way down the ramp of the ship with Leonidas at his side. Leo strode down with confidence and made his way over to where Rue located himself. Koda followed shortly thereafter. He turned slightly to see the hesitation in his sister, “Don’t need me to call up Brick to hold your hand, do I?” He tried to joke, “You look more nervous than a Gizka in a Gundark Den.”

Rue’s head dipped in a nod. “This is a kindness,” he repeated, smiling now. Where this one came from, hundreds of thousands of litluns shared some of its blood, as it shared some of the Master’s…but the latter did not make us anything resembling family. I would never dare to allege such. This one is an experiment. He was the Master. And while it is true I loved my litluns whom shared this one’s DNA in some shred of genome, I also loved those of completely different strains. I think it is love. And that is all it needs to be.“

He glanced over as Leonidas approached, strutting, and his earlier blush returned, preemptive embarrassment churning in suspicion that the other man would praise him again to a new person. He hoped to head it off.

"Sir Tyga of Clan Acyk and Clan Nilim, this is Sir Leonidas! He is not of the Kendis, but is advising Sir Koda. Sir Leonidas, this is Tyga Orn Nilim.”

<@395091612952297484>

“I am sure you will do just fine with raising the children. You do have that instinct Rue, if I may say so. And I wholeheartedly agree that love is all there needs to be,” Tyga said, as he thought of all the times over the years he had spent with his younger cousins and siblings and helped to raise them.

Tyga watched as another member of their group approached, thus he bowed in the same flourishing greeting to the newcomer and flashed a smile. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you Sir Leonidas. Sir Tyga Orn Nilim of Clan Nilim and Clan Acyk at your service…” he held out his hand in greeting.

With a bright smile Leonidas reached past Tyga’s hand and instead wrapped it hand around their forearm, “Su cuy'gar, Sir Tyga Orn Nilim, it’s a pleasure.” He nodded politely at him, “I look forward to conversing with you and everyone here to help with build inter-clan relations. It will allow me to brush up on my Mando'a as well, I’ll do my best to keep up.”

Tyga gripped Leonidas’ forearm in kind. “Su cuy’gar, Sir Leonidas. And I also need to brush up on my Mando’a myself. I haven’t spoken it since my last visit home,” he chuckled at the memory of him being scolded by one of his Mandalorian aunts for letting their native tongue slip and that he needed to try harder next time. “And I’m also glad to have the opportunity to meet another clan outside of my own family,”

“Shut up,” Ellisyn said, her voice a little sharp. Not even a beat passed before she began apologizing “Sorry, Koda, it’s just a lot. You know how hard it’s been staying out of my armor recently. Go socialize, don’t worry about me.”

Minnie whistled loudly after him as the man striped, winking back and hollering again at the top of her lungs, “WOOO, YEAH, KITTY BABY, KICK HIS ASS, THAT’S MY MAN!”

Nearby, Rue, having flinched at the suddenly sharp and loud noise, turned and looked. And kept looking. He tilted his head.

“I do not see a kitten.”

He sounded a little sad about the fact.

<@395091612952297484> <@301514304845381632> <@697332548505960459>

Haro followed the Zabrak to the mound, using his cane for balance. “Oh, you’re fighting without armor? Well then, I’m not one to give myself an unfair advantage in a fair duel.” He removed his own beskar, placing it aside. “But why keep the kom'rke?” He leaned on his cane at the ring, the question on his face, and his own vambraces on his forearms. “This is hand to hand, serimir?”

Haro nodded. “Full force, first blood?” He tossed his cane away and fell into an unsteady ready position, not putting much weight on his cybernetic leg. “Tion gar tsikala?”

The loud shouts from Minnie pointes Ellisyn’s attention straight towards the two men settled a few paces away. It seemed they couldn’t even wait to get to the evening’s venue before starting a fight. She truly was among her people.

The Lawyer gave her brother’s arm a nudge “I’ll be back,” she said before walking off towards Bril and Haro.

She stopped beside Bril, looking him up and down. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you throw a punch before,” she teased <@963939718909792256>

Tyga exhaled and then laughed at Minnie’s overenthusiasm for Bril and his stripped form. “Rue, if I may, you have heard Bril’s nickname. It is what some couples do…” he smiled and watched as Bril and Haro both began to square up for their one-on-one engagement.

“Oh,” said Rue, realization lighting his face…if still disappointed in the lack of actual kittens. “I see. Thank you, Tyga, I will note this.”

Although as if summoned by talk of pets, a rustling came in Rue’s braided and ribboned hair, and from behind one of his ears emerged a tiny black and white voorpak. It sniffed at the air, shying from all the ongoings, and Rue hummed at it and fed it a leaf from the flower basket.

Emere Galo’s disappointment reached new heights after stepping off of the fancy, overly opulent Nubian yacht. Bril informed her she would act as security during some kind of clan negotiations and that there would be many armor-clad Mandalorian about. And there was. The problem arose from the fact that she didn’t need to be there. Everyone approached each other peaceably and had obviously shared previous connections.

Thanks to the Black Suns, only thing she knew about Mandalorians was how to fight like them. There wasn’t much else she really cared to know.

Silently she proceeded off of the ship, not bothering with pleasantries or even a smile. That was until she spotted a unique reunion. The woman’s stony features softened at the sight of mother and son being reunited. The feeling resonated deep within her being as she missed over a decade of Morra’s life until she found her again. The bittersweet moment was a relief and the weight that she carried on her shoulders for years finally lifted. To witness such moments in time felt surreal, but delightful.

Once the reunited pair went on their way, she remained on the outskirts, observing. Picking up on the spar that was about to unfold, she supposed she could maybe think about forgiving Bril for lying to her. As much as she was aware that he was training Morra, she was eager to finally see the Zabrak in action.

Turi blinked at the question like Jax had just asked him to file a mission report.

“Baby is smol,” he said at last, holding two fingers close together. “But really really strong. She grabbed my finger. That means we bonded now.”

Then he leaned forward and stage-whispered, “She drool on me. But that’s okay.”

“Turi collecting cousins like bounties,” Socorra muttered, mostly to herself.

She eased him down with a quiet grunt at the strain. One hand lingered on his back longer than needed. Then a tousle to his white-streaked hair, like it was just routine, like she was fine.

Her gaze followed Turhaya as he began twirling around them, then shifted. A pale eye settled on the tassel looped across Jax’s chestplate, nearly level with her line of sight.

Damn her perfect memory.

She had done unforgivable things to the Erinos, back then as Director of the DIA. Chained, tortured, interrogated his mind with the Force and fury…to break not him, but the man who became his husband. Jax never folded. Such was his undying love for Kobign, whom the tassel represented.

The same dark-skinned, burn-scarred hands reached out in silence as she stepped in close. But this time, they did not demand. They offered something else entirely.

Slowly, carefully, she adjusted his braid where it had shifted in the breeze, smoothing it flat with reverence. A softness reserved for an extreme few.

“It suit you,” she said, voice low but sure. “Balanced. He suit you.”

It was worn with pride. Clear. Honest. A beautiful thing. And it pulled tight in her chest. Fingers brushed briefly over her own chestplate, where nothing hung on either side. Then they fell away.

“You earned that,” she added after a moment. “Every thread.”

<@244244400488710155>

“I’ll put it on the list,” Elly said before taking a few steps back. With her busy schedule, the woman had accumulated a large backlog of things to watch, read, and do. But she hoped she actually got the chance to watch Bril’s fights someday.

The woman pondered whether or not she wanted to watch or go socialize, quickly choosing the option to watch as opposed to making herself uncomfortable

Jax laughed from his belly, a sound of pure, rumbling joy, at Turi'e commentary. His hips wiggled, an uncontrolled display of pride and delight for their daughter, the unseen stump of his tail wagging under his armor. “Cousins like bounties, yes?” he asked, in the Socorron’s own Orys Corselli, the sah on the end familiar to those who spent time around her. He watched Turi run about, watched Bril stride off to spar with Haro, chuckled at Minnow’s shouting, noted Emere’s subtle grief and sympathy and disgruntlement and the Kendis Clan speaking to Tyga.

This was a good day.

Movement, and his lupine gaze snapped back, his fur rising on end, a subtle catch of snarl and raising lip. Not because Socorra was a threat, but because she once had been. Because over a year of various therapizing did not erase the body or the mind’s memory of the pain inflicted. Because having logically chosen to forgive and believing fully in his choices as well as understand hers did not undo trauma.

It softened the edges. Rewrote the scripts that tried to twist their ending. He did not begrudge her. After everything – after the covert operations to route Dilshay’s Collective sleeper cell from Dajorra, after their trials following the Battle of Brimstone, after their pardons – he had reached out, once it would not legally complicate matters. He had written to her often, and not minded the lack of reciprocal correspondence; welded to her datapads as the former intelligence officer was, Socorra had never shown much inclination to messaging. He had told her of their expecting Marrien Moon, of finding a new apartment, of Turi’s activities, of his aspirations for the change in the Academy and kind neighbors and how proud he was of Kobign’s first article drafts.

But that still did not mean his fur did not stand on end when he was in the same physical space as her. That he did not experience a headache, as if an icepick behind his right eye alone, phantom pain just like his arm and foot sometimes gave. Fear and defiance were written into their sinew, now. Trauma lingered and traveled. All there was to do was to feel it.

And to move through it.

Jax’s sole hand lifted to touch near the tassel she had straightened, not distrubing the sweet work.

“It does suit me,” he agreed quietly, a small and haunted grin no less proud, no less loving. “And we did earn each other.” The hybrid nodded to Tur'haya. “He suits you.”

A beat.

“If you would like to talk about what happened, when you were away– I heard through the vine that it was not willing. I was not there, for which I am ever regretful despite knowing it blameless, when none of us knew. But I am here to listen.”

Haro immediately launched into an attack, throwing a straight punch at Bril’s chest and following up with a left hook to the Zabrak’s face and a knee to the ribcage. The weak stance he had shown before had been a trick, a ruse to fool his opponent into overconfidence. Now he stood steady, strong, unwavering in his confidence. A smile touched his lips. This was his element.

Watching the fight a bit away, Minnow frowned at seeing Haro drop his cane, standing confidently and smiling like that. It wasn’t her place to assume of anyone’s disability; not always having to use a cane or chair didn’t mean their ability wasn’t valid and they weren’t disabled. But similarly, she had seen people use crutches as a trick before, and that was just insulting and disrespectful to the whole community, to present them as worth underestimating.

Her tiny head tails curled at the ends, pinking, as she began to build up to truly ranting in her own head. She jiggled her leg and blew out a breath.

No, no, don’t assume… she chastised herself, and turned back to her conversation with the other women, signing while she spoke.

“So, Nicfer, you’ve been kidnapped here, but do you have any relations to Mandalorian culture besides Zig making you socialize? Or any interest in it? Not to force it on you at all, yanno! Just here to help if you want.” She smiled.

<@163419371568365568>

As Tyga began being introduced to Koda through Leonidas, Rue bowed and retreated, feeling his place was done. He had given Tyga his flower, and there were many more to give.

Turning, he saw Elly hesitating, and bit his lip. He knew she was not very social, despite how much she helped him and brought him into her family. Perhaps that was due to how they had met, but still he was grateful. There was also another woman off to the side, and Rue could sense her particular kind of grief and relief, that of a parent for a child, as easily as breathing, as easily as he heard the heartbeats of everyone here. For him, that feeling was life, and had been for over a hundred years.

Picking a flower out, he went to Elly, looping his tail around her back as he often did, a side hug. Then he nodded to the other woman.

“This one wants to give her a flower. Will Elly come with me?”

<@301514304845381632>

The lawyer’s attention had been stolen by the fight before her, so the sudden feeling of Rue’s tail around her gave her a start. Elly’s head darted to look at the hybrid, a smile crossing her lips at Rue’s offer. She always admired the man’s kindness.

“Sure. She certainly looks like she could use one.”

Having trained diligently to take note of extraneous movement in her peripheral, she noticed two figures approaching her.

She stiffened and locked her stony gaze onto both of them, performing a silent threat assessment. The slender one looked as though a breeze could take him away but she never underestimated an opponent. The larger stronger woman, someone she had met briefly during her time as a Marshal, looked as though she could produce said breeze to knock over her emaciated friend.

<@301514304845381632> <@244244163002892288>

“Blessed Day, Mistrrrr– Miss,” Rue greeted, having to try very hard to simplify the title against such a cold and stern gaze. He bowed lightly, braids and ribbons swaying, Serrulata climbing up one and perching atop his head. When he rose, he offered out the flower he had picked. “This I am Rue. This is Elly. Would you like a flower?”

Upon stopping, Ellisyn’s hands found a home on her hips. She, too, remembered their time as marshals. “It’s not a choice, by the way. You’re taking the flower.”

Emere’s arms found their way over her chest as she looked up at Ellisyn. For a brief moment, she did consider accepting the flower from the poor beanpole, as Morra would have insisted to be ‘polite’. But being ordered to do so by someone, she wasn’t having it.

“Piss off.”

“Elly,” Rue said in response to her telling the woman. At said woman’s response though, his shoulders fell, knowing it was a negative of some kind yet unsure exactly how or where they were failing. “Ah, this one does not need to urinate, but…thank you for the…concern?”

In the height of her irritation, her eyes darted to Rue and then back to Elly. “I’m not talking to you, beanpole.”

The hybrid quelled further, spine stooping and saffron eyes nailing to the floor. His tail constricted tightly around Elly enough to pull their hips together, and his sole hand holding the flower lowered, retreating back.

But it spoke of how far he’d come that he wasn’t on the ground, forehead pressed to the dirt. That he still mumbled, confused,

-# “I am also not a species of bean…”

Although she wanted to remain resolute in not being ordered by someone who was essentially a stranger, she was moved by Rue’s visible shrinking. The words he mumbled didn’t reach her ears but she held out a hand. “Give me the flower.”

The hybrid immediately moved to the order, his curled tight limbs striking quick like a cat as he placed the flower into her waiting palm and then withdrew just as fast. He was a little bit behind Elly now, slightly hiding around her broader shoulder, ducking despite being taller.

The bloom in Emere’s hand was tiny. A delicate sprig of several clusters of flowers erupting from tiny stems connected to one larger stamen. They were tight, small petals of the sweetest, softest blue, just like her daughter’s eyes.

The decision seemed right in the moment, but Rue quickly showed her that her choice to be forceful with Rue beside her was a poor one.

“Thank you for taking the flower. It means a lot to him.” Ellisyn forced herself to be cordial for the sake of Rue <@315438760428961793>

As Haro hit the ground, he tried to roll on top of his opponent, but Bril had him too well pinned. Bril started to rain down punches from his position. Haro barely managed to get his arms in the way before the first strike landed.

But his smile never faltered. Instead, it brightened and grew like a torch to fuel. “Jate!”

Rue poked out a little further again from behind Elly’s shoulder, so that his mouth was free and his words clearer, and explained meekly, “This one apologizes for disturbing Mistress. It only wanted to offer her the flower. This is myosotis sylvatica, which convey hope, remembrance, and true and undying love even beyond death. Mistress looked as though she was remembering someone. This one knows it well. That is all. Thank you apologies Blessed Day.”

And he promptly ducked back again, peeking at Emere from around Elly’s mane of hair (all while Serrulata peeked out from Rue’s own hair).

<@315438760428961793> <@301514304845381632>

‘This isn’t over.’

Two orange fingers gestured from deep sea blue orbs towards a sealed compartment in the ship and all its secrets it still refused to share. The nautolan teenager huffed and picked herself off the yacht’s floor, dusting off her dark cargo pants. She grabbed her leather jacket off a seat nearby, throwing it over her grey t-shirt - her tangled mess of orange and white striped tendrils falling around the shoulders as she made her way towards the still extended ramp.

Rhizas'pii paused at the hatch, peering down and around at those gathered. She recognized those that had rode in on the yacht, didn’t bother interacting with them much and kept in her corner though. Minnie, Bril, and Jax did plenty enough talking for…anyone. Despite her own lack of initiative at first, the teen was curious of all these people gathered.

Mandalorians.

Or that’s what she gathered they would be. Were they like the Erinos? Different? What customs did they have? Are they fighters too?

A tilt of her head indicated the direction her pupiless eyes were looking, catching sight of a tussle in the distance. Took her only a few seconds to realize one of the opponents was Bril. Rhiza went down the ramp, hopped the last meter, and strolled over to watch somewhere on the outskirts between where Minnie and Jax were both talking separately.

Minnow had caught Nicfer silently trying to extract herself from Zig who was not making it easy.

“Oh. Um. Not much. I don’t mesh well with Mandalorian types.”

The last word was stressed as Nicfer finally freed herself from Zig’s grip and worked on resettling her outfit so it would lay right after contorting her arm and torso in weird ways to get free.

“The culture is interesting and the armor,” She holds up her now free arm which is sporting a Mandalorian armored vambrace. “The armor is top notch.”

She gets back to work getting her outfit back in order. Continuing to talk as she looked down, seeming not at all interested in the sparring match.

“I don’t like doing fair and honorable fights. And when challenged to a duel or match for sport,” She gestures out to the two sparring. “I just turn them down. Good to train, but feels weird. Not practical. If someone squares up to fist fight me in public, I’m just going to stun them or leave.”

Minnie’s seafoam gaze narrowed slightly at the emphasis on ‘Mandalorian types,’ whatever that was meant to imply, though that unscrunched at the compliment to her culture.

…Only for a twitch to begin under one eye and her jaw to lock the moment Nicfer showed off the vambrace.

“Ah. Yeah. Fighting isn’t for everyone. It’s also not all we’re about, of course, in the least. Our peoples have a lot of traditions and practices, same as any culture.” Her gaze was fixated on the bracer. She tore it away and smiled in a way that was more a grimace. “Definitely if it’s a real battle, I just shoot to kill before me or mine are killed. But that’s a bit dark for today, we’re celebrating and stuff. Well, I’ll let you get to it. Nice meeting you again, Nicfer. Later, Zig.”

<@189568236201705472>

Minnie turned and marched off before she let her pazaak face slip too much. Still with one eye on the fight, she sidled up to he spectators, finding Elly looking like she also wanted to hit someone, with that sweet Rue fellow hiding behind her from…Morra’s mom?

Emere did have a heck of a resh-besh-fesk, but jeepers.

“What’s up, guys?” she asked.

<@301514304845381632> <@315438760428961793>

“Nice ta meet you too, Minnie,” Zig saluted, lifting her not-Mandalorian, but made of beskar, helmet in a salute.

She turned to Nicfer, smiled at her for remembering to be herself, and then held up her own vambrace. “I had anxiety about wearing and using it…and spoke to L'ara, others, at length about it. I forged mine myself. Broke it down after buying it with the money I earned through my blood and sweat, and reforged it myself. They can talk about honor and how they came to theirs, but I built mine with my bare hands. Beskar is a marvel of technology, and it shouldn’t be limited in its use to a single culture…as long as respect and ethical procurement is being ensured.”

She nodded, and then slipped into her helmet, the custom ear-molds letting her elongated ears slide into place. The scar across the visor was cool. Chicks digged scars, after all.

Indeed – there was another.

Another set of hoofsteps followed the silent sneaking of Rhiza down the ramp, a biiiiiig yawn accompanying the clippity cloppity trot trot. Emerging from where he’d started napping standing up on the long flight here, none other than the Ambassador himself emerged (though people usually mistakenly gave Rue that title).

Alk didn’t wear his tuxedo or monocle or sash today. They hadn’t fit the occasion. Instead, Rue had dressed him in the Kendis colors, even if the gentlemott wasn’t strictly part of the clan. A flower crown made of red, white, and yellow blossoms, trailing bowed ribbons at each ear of the same colors, adorned his head as his ears wiggled fiercely and he lifted his snout to scent things. A simple white bandana was on his neck.

Tail wagging, the diplomott trotted down the ramp and ran up to the first pair he could reach; one all in armor and thus not very good for licking, and one not. The less-metal one he promtply and dutifully greeted with a kiss or six to the bare pink hand, lending slobber and love aplenty.

<@163419371568365568>

“Minnie?” Elly asked. It has been quite some time since she had seen the woman and as welcome as the sight was, she was always nervous given how much Ellisyn hid. “Rue and I were delivering a flower to this ray of sunshine while watching Bril fight.”

The Lawyer paused for a moment. “It’s nice to see you.”

Minnie couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that burst out to hear Emere described as a ray of sunshine. She usually had more laden rain cloud energy. “That sounds so sweet! You’re always giving people things, aren’t you, Rue? Flowers or pets, huh? Do I get one?” Then, turning to smile at Elly: “It’s nice to see you too.”

“Of c-course, Mistress Starosa Minnow,” Rue replied immediately, a tad of a tremble in his tone still from Emere’s harshness. He instinctively only half-turned towards the significantly shorter Nautolan who had to crane her neck (ugh, typical) to look up at both him and Elly. It effectively kept his back from being exposed to the Human who for some reason thought he was of the *Phaseolus * genus.

Rue considered Minnie for a quiet moment, then picked through his basket and offered her a bloom.

“Here, Mistress.”

“Remember, Rue, just Minnow is okie! You don’t have to call me Mistress like my kitty does.” She winked at him and took the flower. “Thank you so much! Why’d you pick this one?”

“Crocus satvia has many meanings, some of which are conveyed by different colors of the bloom, but this one hypothesizes Miss Minnow embodies all of them. White symbolize youth, rebirth and purity. The purple mean pride and dignity, which seem to suit Miss’ dutiful aspects, and yellow represent cheerfulness, pleasure, gladness and joy. Also. In this case. It just seems like Miss would like a flower as yellow and cheerful as she is. So.”

Rue was quiet, but enunciated carefully and primly as he spoke, accent lilting. His gaze darted to Elly, checking with her.

“Ohmigoawsh, Rue, that’s so sweet! andkindaspooky, wow.” Her smile was twitching as were her small headtails, suspecting the hybrid was reading her some like jediit often did without consent. “You’ve got a good friend here, Elly.”

<@301514304845381632> <@315438760428961793>

The Firrerreo watched the exchange, enjoying yet another one of Rue’s explanations. “He’s not just a friend, he’s a Kendis. A brother,” Elly said with a smile, choosing not to address the twitching at the moment. With Rue nearby, she knew it would be a bad idea.

Minnie smiled, hands flying. “Oh, I’m sorry, babes– brother. That’s great! I’m really happy for you gais. Olaram, Rue. Ni kar'taylir gai sa'Kendis. I know you as a Kendis.”

Her fingers spelled out the surname, and Rue stared at them intently.

“Vor-ey,” Rue enunciated his thanks carefully. “What is this you are doing? You did it also at the fair with Ras.”

“Oh! This is Sign Language. It’s a kinetic and non-verbal language that chiefly uses facial expressions and gestures to convey meaning. It’s primarily used for those who are deaf, hard of hearing, mute – like my big brother! – or anyone, really. It isn’t Basic but in hands, okie? It’s a whole language.”

“Fascinating,” Rue breathed, looking absolutely enthralled. He leaned forward, curling over Elly to peer closer at the Nautolan, as if he could absorb more information by staring alone. “Can Miss tell this one more? Can it be done with only one hand? I would love to learn this. Several of my litluns were deafened or decantered without hearing or indeed ears or vestibular vesicles before they succumbed to their defects. It wishes it could have known of this previously. It only used telepathy to compensate where possible.”

“O…oh,” Minnie seemed caught off guard by the sudden outpouring from the shy man, and also by the content of his speech. Elly was familiar with the reaction; she’d had it often, and seen it. “Um, I’m so sorry about that, but yes, it’s a beautiful language, and I’d totes tell you more about it sometime! Not right now tho, that’s too much to get into, yanno?”

“Yan…no?” he asked.

“Like, ‘you know.’ It’s a saying. Er, somehting like that, Jaxxie would know better about the linguistics!”

“Fascinating.”

“Sooo, Elly,” the Nautolan looked back to her. “You okay? You looked ready to hit someone there.”

A feeling of pride surged through the woman, happy with Minnie’s recognition of Rue. She was glad that despite being new, he seemed to fit right into the family. She idly listened to the conversation while watching Bril in his fight, zoning out until she was directly addressed.

“When? When I got off the ship? When people started fighting? When Emere called Rue names?” Elly listed off all the moments she could’ve easily been coerced into throwing a punch. “You doing alright?”

Minnie frowned. “Called Rue names?” She leaned over and eyed Galo, the sort of look a soldier would give a private.

<@315438760428961793>

“But yeah, I’m good! Really good.” Seafoam eyes switched to Rhiza, who Bril was hollering at. “We should…catch up. But if you want we could tussle?”

“I’d really like that. It’s been too long since you harassed me into boba,” Ellisyn said, trying to ignore the feeling budding at the proposition of a fight.

“Tussle?”

“Can’t let the boys have all the fun, now can we?” Minnie giggles with a wink. “Wanna spar? Loser pays for the mead!”

(Rue, once again drawing out his notebook as he looked between the two women, poised to write that down.

“‘The boys cannot have all the fun…’” he mumbled to himself.)

“I suppose it wouldn’t be right for them to be the only ones,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “You sure about sparring? I could just buy your drinks anyway.” Her foot tapped restlessly.

“C'mon, babes. I can see you’re dying to get some energy out,” Minnie observed, and gestured them over to another clear spot. “Armor or no armor? Weapons?”

“Well…” She looked to the fight and then back to Minnie. The woman sighed. “If you insist, might as well. I’m not partial to weapons or not, I’ll be using my fists anyway but you’re welcome to them.”

“I’m down for what’s in my bracers,” the Nautolan offered, “but mostly, yanno, hand to hand too.”

They’d sparred around each other before, after all. Though back then, Elly had been pretending she’d never fought at all.

“Let’s go!”

“Um, Elly is fighting?” Rue asked with some concern.

“I’m always up for a challenge,” Ellisyn said, already getting hyped for the experience. “No armor and your bracers?” She asked, trying to clarify their terms. It was then that Rue interjected, something that Elly hadn’t even considered.

“It’s not fighting it’s… It’s just a game. Right?” She looked to Minnie for support

Minnie’s brows furrowed as her head tilted, not following whatever Elly was looking at her like, back me up here! for but wishing she knew. “Uhhmmmmyes? I mean, it’s just a spar, so we won’t be really hurting each other or anything, of course, Rue. Accidents can always happen when you’re fighting, of course, or training, so people can still get hurt, and if folks get too aggressive or break the rules yanno you might have trouble, but I think we’ll be good! Nobody’s going to try to break any bones or anything! Probably plenty of bruises And some scrapes but that’s normal.”

“Break bones?” Rue gasped, evidently not that soothed. He turned on the Fierrero. “Elly! Fighting is not a game!”

“Crap,” Minnie whispered to herself through a forced smile, kind of grimacing in Elly’s direction while also giving her a look like what you getting me into?!

“Frakk,” Ellisyn mumbled along with Minnie. “Rue, we’re gonna be fine. It’s not a serious fight or anything, just a fun spar between two friends. A way to keep skills sharp.”

The hybrid wore an expression that could almost be considered a pout, if it wasn’t for the disappointed eyebrows. Minnie felt criminal just standing in ten feet of it, eesh. The Nautolan backed up, a tactical retreat her brother would’ve lauded. “I’ll just get out of my kit then, yah?”

She started to undo her armor much like Bril had, quickly and efficiently stripping to a bubblegum pink tube top and shorts below her undersuit and her bracers.

Rue, meanwhile, stared at Elly a moment longer before he sighed and gathered his basket back to himself, sitting down right there on the ground in his dress.

“This one will heal you after.”

“Rue, I’m going to be fine. Besides, I heal fast. By the time we’re back I’ll be good as new.” Elly tried her best to reassure the man but she knew that nothing would truly help. “Let me have this.”

Before Rue could get a word in, Ellisyn left his side and followed Minnie further away for space to fight. She followed the nautolan’s lead and began to remove her armor until she was down the bottoms of her body glove and a maroon sportsbra, shedding the long sleeved top that protected her from chafing.

“Until one of us taps out?” She asked Minnie, begining some dynamic stretches in preparation for the bout

“I will. Heal you. When. You’re. Done,” Rue mumbled to Elly’s retreating back, in exactly the same tone she had told Emere she was taking the flower.

“Ehhh…” Minnie bounced on her toes some, head tails bobbing. “That could either take awhile or get dicey fast since we’re both stubborn shabs. Three blood?” To this she referred to her clan’s more combined take on two challenges. “Surrender or three blows that draw blood; althoooo your brother looks pretty worried already.”

The voice in the Firrerreo’s head that told her exactly what she should be doing, going back to Rue and simply relaxing, got quieter and quieter with every moment passed.

“Good concept. We’ll do that,” Elly said before taking a place across from Minnie. The lichtenberg scar sprawling down her back was only half covered her top, something that tugged at the back of her mind. She still has a hard time when people saw it.

Without waiting much longer, Minnie gave a bark of, “ready?” in Mando'a and then launched herself forward at Elly’s confirmation. The significantly tinier – but extremely spirited – Mandalorian planted a foot in a running leap to launch herself off the ground, spinning into an elbow strike aimed at Elly’s face.

Unfortunately, she felt just short, the taller woman able to lean backwards and away from the Nautolan’s incoming blow. Minnie’s feet touched back down, both arms up ready to block, knees bending to move again at a moment’s notice.

If any embarrassment was to be had by the teenage Nautolan at the nickname, she didn’t show it. Rhizas'pii cupped a hand over her mouth and whooped something as she made a couple gestures in her native tongue. Should Minnie had caught it while arranging her own sparring match, she might have worked out a very crude cheer. An equivalent of ‘kicking his arse.’ Rhiza stayed glued on the fight, watching the fists exchange, the war for position, and iron hard guard.

Movement passing by her stirred a breeze over her twisted tendrils. She tensed. Her gaze darted over her shoulder quickly to catch the movement of yellow and pink walking past, followed by a much taller figure. Minnie. Rhizas'pii exhaled and, after a few seconds, unclenched fingers around her now crossed arms. She shook her head before pivoting to watch what the older Nautolan was up to. Her answer came in the stances of the women and the leaping elbow strike.

Another spar had begun. It didn’t earn a hyping cheer yet, but her focus was torn and split between both fights as she tried to spectate – watching them in action.

<@244244163002892288>

As the woman in front of her shouted, Ellisyn simply gave a nod of affirmation, bringing her arms up to prepare for any blow. The nautolan was quick, but despite her speed, Ellisyn was able to lean back. She was too slow to throw a punch back while Minnie balanced herself.

Given their height difference, the former vigilante brought her knee up in the hopes of subverting or breaking her guard.

She followed his eyes to Turi, his laughter unrestrained and full-bodied, young chaos wrapped in joy. He spun in circles while singing a song that had no tune.

He was wild. Unbroken. Free.

And suddenly, Socorra was somewhere else, watching timelines move, converge, fracture, then rejoin.

“I saw him once,” she said, not looking at Jax. “Before he was even made. Before I even t'ought it could happen.”

She exhaled slowly.

“Wyn could not reach me in Cax hivemind. I wanted to stay. They called me Mother. It was peace, something I rarely ever had. Or deserved.”

A caxqette baby had found her once too, curled up in the refresher of their hotel room after the stageplay she and Wyn went to see. It had called her Mother, too. She hadn’t meant to kill it.

“To break the hivemind he show me a vision.”

Her voice stayed calm, but the weight in it shifted.

“On beach, Wyn was playing with six year old boy, our son. We laugh and play in sand. We sang him the tooka tooka tooka song. It was… the most beautiful t'ing I ever seen. Not illusion. Not lie. Just… hope. A gift. The kind no one had ever given me.”

A pause.

“All t'ree of us were happy. For once… I was at peace. With all the past, with the present. Family made me whole.”

She glanced toward Turi again, real now, not an illusion. A future once shown, just littler. And now, looking at him, bright, soft, alive, she still believed it.

“That what broke their hold. Not the Force. Not fire or fear. Hope.”

Socorra looked at Jax then, just for a moment.

“He show me the future I could have. And I chose it.”

Turi stopped twirling and dizzily wobbled in place. “Mama! I can make you string thing like Unca Jax? Unca Mawick and Weyne and me got stickers.”

He held up a fistful of crumpled sticky things and pocket lint.

She smiled softly, reaching to brush a curl off his forehead. “Okay,” she said. “But only one, in case you need the rest.”

“‘Kay.”

And then he smooshed it to her armor and stepped back with a beam of pride.

"Mama look good!”

She craned her neck to peer down at it and nodded.

“I do. Thank you, bright star.”

They hugged, and she looked at Jax over Turi’s shoulder, her calm expression warmed by something tender.

“He suits me.”

<@189568236201705472> <@244244163002892288>

As Bril shouted, Haro tried again to flip the zabrak over, but Bril’s pin on him was strong. He tried to punch his opponent, but every punch was met by Bril’s forearms as he blocked.

<@1056685516441006091>

Nicfer let what Minnie say roll of her back. It was clear she had touched a nerve. And that was going to be Zig’s problem later as Nicfer wasn’t even suppose to be here. Plus if it was going to be her problem, she was pretty sure someone would have made that clear.

Nicfer was so busy trying make make sure others should approach, she about jumped out of her skin when the well dressed Mott licked her hand.

“Uuuuah!”

The sound was choked, loud, and embarrassing. So when she realized it was not something trying to eat her. She calmed down and acted like she didn’t just shout. It never happened and if questioned, she was going to stick to that story.

She squatted down a bit to get more on the creatures level and scratched under it’s chin. Nicfer also took that moment to wipe her hand clean of slobber.

“Finally, some decent company. Where did you come from?”

Continuing to scratch the mott while not mesing up their outfit, she continued to talk to it in her normal voice like it was a regular guest.

“And why approach the most prickly person here? There are clearly more approachable folks.”

The boisterous entrance and somber departure of the Lasat man caught Rhizas'pii’s attention enough to pull her from both spars. She contemplated the tankard and the spoils inside of it. They were there to be merry and celebrate or some sithspit right? Maybe she’ll grab a glass –

A choked off cry intercepted the teenager’s plans. She glanced back towards the ships where a pair of ladies and some creature were standing, amber brow raised. Curiosity won against watching fists exchange. The orange and pale striped Nautolan wandered over and halted half a meter from the crouched Zeltron and beast.

“What the hell is that thing?” She asked, pupiless blue eyes squinted in scrutiny.

“A mott I think. I don’t know. I am not really up on my animals.”

Nicfer doesn’t turn to face whoever has approached. Her focus still on the critter in front of her. Which is likely why Nicfer has not engaged with her usual snarky or sarcasm. She was acting nice… For her.

“I just know it is friendly and for some odd reason it thought I was a good person to interact with. Which means it is not the best at reading people.”

“He is actually quite a good and fair judge of character, being an ambassador,” commented a lilting voice from nearby. Either Nicfer or the young Nautolan could turn to see that the strange colorful man who had been keeping a very close eye on the spars had scurried closer to them whereupon he noticed Alk’s emergence from the ship. Now, though he kept darting glances back at the sparring – and had flinched at the loud individual’s shouting – he also looked to both ladies, with a particularly lingering gaze over Rhiza'a crimped headtails.

“His name is Alk. And you are correct, Mistress, he is a Mott. A pygmy bred variety. This one is sorry if he disturbed you in introducing himself. He is very friendly.”

<@244244400488710155> <@163419371568365568>

Rhizas'pii glanced up towards the voice that spoke. A too tall, too colorful being in a white dress and tied up with ribbons. She narrowed her eyes as she caught the gaze lingering on her, crossing her striped arms. “Who’s really a judge of good character and fairness, eh?”

Shrugging, she shifted her attention to the Mott though, tentatively holding a hand out to him. She glance between him and the other two beings. “Alk, huh? Said he’s small for his kind, how big do they get?”

<@163419371568365568>

The hybrid, not seeming to understand a rhetorical, tilted his head and repeated the answer sweetly, “Alk is.”

Socorra considered the topic of the blacksite only for a split second. “Another time. Today is for joy! Five credit I owe, sah? Then drink on me.” Her dialect dropped the “s” from the plurals.

Jax smiled at her, inclining his head in acceptance of the passed topic. “Indeed, for much joy, as he does suit you.” The hybrid’s ears flicker back as he whined, watching her with Turi. “You make me miss Marrien Moon and my Kobign even more. This is the first I have been away since she was born and it is, I think, actually killing me. One drink.”