Selen, Dajorra System Arcona Citadel Courtyard 41 ABY
The massive courtyard hidden behind the Citadel’s great walls had become a common place for members of Clan Arcona to mill about and meet and plan and spend leisure time. A long staircase, dotted with moss, lead further into the Citadel grounds, on a path towards the entrance to the Great Hall. Pillars of stone, possibly from long ancient and forgotten Selenian ritual or purpose, cast shade on the grassy outcropping of fresh-cut and well kept grass and shrubberies.
It was a quiet, peaceful place. But it had also been the location of many a duel between rival Arconans, or up-and-coming Proconsul’s looking to prove their worth.
Marick Tyris Arconae thought back to his battle with Wuntila. While he had lost the duel due to a technicallity, Marick had proven his worth to Arcona’s Shadow Lord, cementing his future position as the heir to the Serpentine Throne. He used to wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t. Would he have gone on to lead? Or stayed in the shadows where he thought were all he deserved.
The past was in the past, though. Instead, he focused on the present. He sat with his back to one of the tall obelisk, enjoying a fresh breeze. There was something grounding about the familiarity of the place that had been more of a home to him than anywhere else in the galaxy. Even with years spent away, locked in his office on Arx fighting off the Collective…and not being able to grace the Citadel thanks to his past betrayals…
Yet he had returned. He just hoped he’d done enough…
Part of that, it seemed, was being patient with the next generation of Arconans. He had gotten accustomed to Sofila’s lack of attention to detail on her training. But he had higher hopes for the woman who was supposed to meet him here for some introspective training.
The Hapan closed his eyes, and idly scratched at the fur of the Cythraul curled up next to him, snoozing.
It was an odd thing to ask for help when you were accustomed to ignoring your own needs. She hadn’t considered what asking someone for help or training or even guidance might’ve been like until this little arrangement was made.
Although she was walking through the grass toward Marick but it felt almost like an ocean. She knew others might’ve asked him for help with other things this likely wasn’t anything new and yet she felt si painfully sheepish. Why was this the hardest part?
Taking a deep breath Asani continued her walk, wondering if maybe the grass might’ve been as inviting as it looked. Walking up behind him she sat beside him after contemplating the area for a while.
Her helmet was on, a way to defend herself even from that which might hurt her from within .
“Hello Master Marick, I hope I didn’t keep you long.” she commented. It was clear this was new territory for her. She was equipped for a fight rather than a peaceful conversation.
Marick opened his eyes, and glanced sidelong at the Mandalorian Kushiban. His too-blue eyes studied her, but not in a leering or peering manner that she might have been accustomed to by others.
He took her in like a holocam capturing a moment in time. She could almost see, even from behind her helmet, how he cataloged her attire, posture, and tone of voice all in the time it took for her to speak a single sentence.
As quickly as they had focused on her, his eyes glided back forwards towards the courtyard.
“Marick is fine…Asani of Clan Armis,” he replied formally. His voice was low, calm, and and almost tired sounding, but he looked alert and sharp as ever.
“Fela, we have a guest,” Marick spoke, ruffling the fur of the white-with-brown-tufts wolf curled up beside him.
Fela sprung to her feet, balancing on her singular front paw with expert poise as her tail flicked, her violet eyes seeked out this new guest, and her ears twitched like radar dishes. She noticed the Kushiban and offered a play-bow, followed by a small, excited howl of greeting.
“This is Fela, my Cythraul. Not sure if you’ve met any of their kind yet. We were just enjoying the weather,” he explained.
“I haven’t had the pleasure” she replied, her voice sounding a bit better than her earlier greeting. It seemed to have some more joy or soul, just having company seemed to lighten her spirit.
“Of course sir, but Asani is just as fine as well.” she replied. It was informal, more like a chat between friends than anything strictly business or like a session of advice from a master to an apprentice. The howl seemed to make her anxious for a moment before she calmed down.
After a second or two she managed to attempt to pet the little Fela creature if it let her. Truly she was trying anything and everything new if she could. “Would you mind if I joined in taking in the good weather?” she asked, it seemed silly to ask as she had been the one who requested his presence.
“The silence might help me understand where it is I might like to start…” she commented. She had managed to ask for the help, now the issue was understanding where to begin.
“Or maybe questions might help…I- I’m…not sure where to start” it was obvious she was struggling with talking like this.
Fela’s tail wagged, fast as lightning darting across the night sky. Then she nuzzled her head into the Kushiban’s hand. With a happy yip that seems more domestic than lupin, her nose and ears swiveled, and the three-legged wolf bounded off, clearly distracted by something new or shiny she saw.
Marick didn’t seem to mind her running off. If there was one place Marick felt he didn’t need to worry about a knife appearing in his back at any given time, it was here at the Citadel.
Without turning, he spoke his response. “All good stories start at the beginning,” Marick’s tone might have lilted a bit whimsically. But it was hard to tell since he spoke so plainly. “But I know what you mean.”
He turned once again to regard Asani. “Drop the sir, and I’ll stick with just Asani, fair? I get enough ‘Sirs’ from the Summit Guard and Arcona Armed Forces personnel here. Fortunately, they gave up trying to assign me an escort. It’s a sign of respect, but,” Marick made a vague gesture with one hand, like he was trying to balance something that was uneven.
“But I digress. You said you don’t know where to start. So I’ll begin with a question, then: What is the most important step a person can take?”
Having successfully pet or perhaps she was nuzzled by the creature and watching it run off left her steady, even if only a little. Fela seemed happy roaming around, making Asani wonder if she herself would ever find that kind of peace of mind.
Marick seemed calm here, as far as Asani could tell, perhaps she should try to relax and ease up more. Hearing his comment about all good stories she took off her helmet. This was her way of being more relaxed and vulnerable, even if only it was a small step. She chuckled at his comment about not being called sir and his hand gestures. “Thats fair Marick, it just seems a bit informal and I’m used to doing things by the book.” she said, letting him know she was respectful and tried to follow orders as best as she could.
The elder sibling was quite the opposite of the younger much more vivacious mirialan. Where the younger was like a never ending blaze, the elder seemed to be a subdued spark. Like the energy she had was running on low, or had been for a prolonged period of time.
“Im not sure what it might be. I guess it depends. In a journey it’d be the first one, taking the initiative to even start is the hardest, and the most important.” she answered, ears gently folded back against her head as she stared down at her helmet in her hands, her fur dancing with the gentle breeze.
“I wrote the book,” Marick almost murmured. “And yet every day, my daughter, all of you,” he gestured at Fela trying to (unsuccessfully stalk) a monkey-like creature, and made another broader gesture to ‘everything’. “And yet every day, I see how limiting being the by the book is.”
He idly drummed his fingertips against his knee as he studied her profile, now without helmet. Again, he seemed to take in the details like the notch in her ear, the set of her shoulders, the crease of her features. A snapshot, mechanical, curious, an eidetic memory.
“That’s a true answer. And certainly a difficult one,” he nodded as he turned back to look out and forward. His perfectly parted ashgray hair blew in the wind across his face.
“But it’s not the first one that’s most important,” he said calm as the breeze itself. “It’s the next one, Asani. Always the next step that we take that is most important.”
“It might be limiting but its all I know. I don’t really know how to handle spontaneous ways of being or how to handle a conversation.” she commented her shoulder slumped and seemingly defeated.
She looked up to observed poor Fela’s unsuccessful stalking and chuckled a bit. Hearing his reply she looked up at Marick then. At his eyes, his whole being taking in all of him, as if searching for answers to questions she dare not ask. But soon her eyes retreated back toward her helmet.
She spent some time in silence, taking in the answers he had provided, trying to understand what it is he was telling her but it seemed to escape her. “Its hard to take the next step when you don’t even know where you want to go.” she replied then, after her moments of silence were dried up and she found herself searching for wisdom again.
“I’m not sure I have it in me to continue with these steps, this path. My father has his path and continues down that path with conviction and strenght, my baby sisters seem to be charting their own, even my uncle and his girlfriend” she said with a dry chuckle turning her helmet over and around staring at it in every direction possible as if searching for meaning. “I’m adrift.” she finished the thought. It was a gentle confession, as if stating the reality might doom her to be adrift forever.
“Im not sure what I want. Or where I’m going. Where I might be useful, respected, cherished, allowed to be protective. Or even cared for.” she seemed at odds with many things as if every word was weighed with the comparison of some negative event, some thing that had chipped at her spirit or made her feel like she had been weak or missing something important.
“Trust me, I get it,” he responded to her first admission. He noted her slump of shoulders and frowned slightly. It had taken him a very, very long time to start to be at peace with the “chaos” around him, mostly thanks to his children. He listened as she spoke more.
“We’re all drifting, Asani. Some people -like Sofila- are just better at vocalizing and chasing after it. She’s also drifting, but the difference there is that she is not afraid to take the next step, even if she doesn’t know if it’s the one she wants.”
He glanced up towards the sky.
“You don’t have to have a purpose. You don’t have to know where you want or where you need to go. Because one way or another…life will happen. Wether you want it to or not; wether you’re sitting down, standing up, or running forward. Things around you will happen. The galaxy never sits still. Trust me…”
“But the heart of what I can share, in all my years of survivors guilt, cheating death, being a harbinger of it, knowingly sending loyal soldiers and spies to their deaths…” He felt an old scar in the center of his back itch, even though the wound had healed years and years ago. A phantom.
“But your next step doesn’t have to be forward. It can be backwards. It can be sideways. All that really matters is that you’re willing to take the next step.”
He gingerly reached over and patted her on the shoulder, his motion slow, deliberate, but also graceful- the hands of a surgeon, assassin, but also a father.
“The only way to find out is to take the next the step. I think you’ll surprise yourself with how resilient you truly are.” He noted her scarring and where her fur grew in differently. “And I have no question that you are cared for and cherished. I see it everytime Buir looks at you and everytime your sister swats at you.”
She looked up at him, a small smile on her, she chuckled at the comment about her sister swatting at her. It wasn’t huge thing but it was encouraging and a start.
“I guess that helps and does make me feel better than just thinking about everything…Im going to try at least, even if Im not sure where Im going, ill be taking a journey. Even if it isn’t a big journey at least I wont be completely alone and can rely on others to help. If you wouldn’t mind telling me some stories about your youth?” She asked curious now of his past.
“And how you came about to be here. Its hard to picture everything just working out…Im sure there were more than enough struggles to go around.” she seemed curious of the life the elder had lead. She seemed curious or perhaps it was a way to give herself some form of expectations, to know how the uncertainty of the road ahead.
She looked down at her helmet wondering what the future might hold. “Did you have a master? Or someone to guide you when you had uncertainty or were feeling lost?” she asked realizing she didn’t know much about Marick himself as a person, all she knew was rank, status, what he might be seen as.
Marick looked up for a moment, his sharp blue eyes going distant for a moment before seeming to remember that they were still on duty even if the Master had decided to go introspective. There was no look of whimsy, tepidation…well, anything really as he carefully chose how to answer. Not because he was afraid of sharing his stories, but because he had learned that there was another weight and responsibility of how much he knew and carried.
“I had multiple masters, actually,” Marick started, sticking to the easier question. “My first formal Master left without much word, so I was instead taken under the wing of the collective Summit. To finish my training, however, it was decided that I would be given to…him. Arcona’s Red Right Hand.”
Again, no fear, just a stoic firmness. “His name was…is Timeros. He…in one way or another, shaped me to who I am today.”
“For better and for worse,” he addded in barely a whisper.
Up close, it was easy to see the Hapan heritage at work. Perfect bone structure, symmetrical features, smooth, flawless skin around the well manicured full yet tight beard. On the surface, perfect, but beneath, she could see that as he spoke of the past, scars unseen lacerated across his entire face, kept in check by his stoic visage.
“Timeros was not like Buir. I know he can be tough on you all, because he cares. And in his own way, Timeros did care about me- us. Socorra and Atyiru as well underwent similar training with him, though I suspect he was harder on me in most ways.”
He stretched one hand out, flexing his fingers and rolling his wrist in an idle manner.
“Timeros showed about as much emotion as one of the stone gargoyles lining the Citadel. The training was not just physical, but mental as well. He would maintain an Aura of Terror as he observed me and followed me. I had to learn to eat, sleep, socialize, work out, train, fight, study, all while bearing the weight of an Elder’s aura of fear coursing through me.”
“There were other challenges, of course. Mental games to challenge my memory. He’d have me walk through a ship and then recite every crew member we passed- hair color, weapons, uniform type, other details. For everyone person I misidentified, the physical punishment and training was doubled. Blindfolded, no weapon dodging drill of Force Lightning, facing down a circle of soldiers with stun-blasters, random surprise strikes from a tazer or a blunt weapon if I dozed off because I was trying to keep myself awake for a full two cycles…”
He shrugged slightly. “It might sound cruel, but he was preparing me for everything I would come to face. Without it…I don’t know if I’d be sitting here, right now, with you. I also desperately wanted to be like him. Powerful, unmoving, unfailing. But most of all, he was a weapon that protected Arcona, no matter what. In a way, I guess I did become that…but not for a long time.”
He actually looked down now, at his hands, open in front of him. Clean, callused, the hands that held a daughter and cooked, but also the hands of a lifelong assassin.
“Sure. There were times where I felt lost. ‘Masters’ come in many different forms, depending on what you’re doing. I learn new things from my wife, every single day. While it was I who trained her to fight and lead, she has long since surpassed me and-ecentricies aside-makes me a better person. She is my light, and when she was gone…I had nothing. Just my work, my mission, my next fight.”
He tapped his fingers against his knee again. “Three years. She was gone for three years before I discovered the ritual that could bring her back. I knew the price, and paid it without blinking. But before that…”
He worried he was talking too much, so he paused again and glanced over to study Asani’s reaciton.
The young lagomorph was entranced listening intently her ears pointed in his direction. Her notched ear having to bend a bit more to compensate for some of the air blowing and disrupt her hearing ever so slightly.
Her eyes betrayed her sadness as she understood Maricks life as the elder wove the tale of his life, the more he spoke the more her eyes were full of not pity but empathy. She inched closer to him not just to listen better but to place a hand over his knee in understanding.
“Im sorry you had to go through all of that. Buir might be tough but there was always a limit. The point was always improvement, never cruelty.” she commented to the elder.
“Before that?” she asked hoping the elder would continue his story.
At a different time or place, Marick’s reflex and instincts might have kicked in. Even before her hand had made contact with his knee, he had registered the motion, and had to actively tell his body it was okay. His willpower and control was like beskar, and held, so he did not reach out and grab the lagomorph’s wrist and lock it.
It helped that he had gotten used to his 5-year old daughter constantly reaching for him and tugging at his clothing or arm or whatever she could reach. So he did not tense at Asani’s hand, and simply bowed his head towards her poliltey in appreciation.
“The galaxy is cruel, life is cruel, people can be cruel, but you are right. There is a difference. Timeros was…well.” He searched for a way to explain.
“A storm isn’t cruel, right?” he asked. “You could argue that it acts according to its nature. It doesn’t rip up trees or flood villages out of cruelty or malice. It simple does what it was designed for.”
“Timeros Entar was not cruel, he was just brutal by nature. Sometimes, I wish he were still around. He’s been in isolation, or sojourn, we have not seen him. But I know he’s out there, somewhere.”
He looked up to meet Asani’s eyes, then looked back outward toward Fela rolling around on a spot of grass she must have smelt something on. She’d need a bath later…what else was new.
His eyes went thoughtful again, losing a bit of their sharpness in exchange for a low glow that caught the light.
“Before that,‘ he tried to pick off where he had trailed off. "I thought I’d lost everything. What was the point of everything I was doing? I’d wormed my way into Voice of the Brotherhood. I got close to Grand Master Pravus. Killed my own friends, the Barabel who saved me after I squirreled away on a bounty hunter ship leaving the Hapes cluster. Zakath. It got me the in I needed. But it wasn’t enough.”
“Pravus, you see, had iniated a kind of 'purge’ of ‘undesirables’- basically any being he deemed not worth of the imperial Sith. It was not a good time for the Unknown Territories and the relations between the Clans and the Council.”
“And of course, it was never enough. I had to fully prove my loyalty…all for the hope of getting close enough to a veritible demi-god to…kill them I guess. Perhaps that was my folly, my arrogance. Grand Master’s are Lords of the Sith, and have secrets and abilities that stretch even my current abilities.”
He made a balancing act with his hand. “I’d likely lose to the current or past Grand Master’s in a fight. Face to face, at least- which I’d never do, since there are many different ways to…” he trailed off, having fallen back into old habits.
“Anyway, my challenge was to remain close, while also working with the Lotus resistance, headed by Atyiru and others. But to prove my final worth, I was forced to betray my home…Arcona.”
He looked up at the Citadel, remorse creeping into his visiage. “They trusted me. I was the golden child. A Shadow Lord loved and respected. And what did I do? I sold out the coordinates for how to access Dajorra- where we are now- usually safe behind a map of black holes that navigation is required for. I provided Pravus’s forces with the key, and coordinated an abmush that wiped out the bulk of Arcona’s fleet. I tried my best to…minimze casualities. But it worked, and I had my in.”
“That allowed me to, slowly, work to re-organize the Inquisitorius.”
“From witch-hunters to intellgence. Which was..just was well, because then the Collective showed up,” he continued. “And during that battle, I miscalculated. And Arcona’s flagship, with Atyiru at the helm, was the casualty of the of the Collective’s tactics: suicide bombers.”
Marick looked down at the ground, staring a bit vacantly. “I lost her. I was too busy working my way into infiltrating the Collective. Learning their secrets, providing intel reports on the new threat. But it wasn’t enough, and I wasn’t there for when she needed me…and then she was in a coma.”
He looked back at Asani. “After that, I was truly lost. So, I threw myself into my work. I dedicated every waking breath, every minute of my existence to ending the Collective.” He exhaled.
“I came close. I like to believe that my groundwork and efforts lead to the eventual ‘defeat’ of the Collective. But we won…and most importantly…I found a way to bring her back. And then, just like that…I had something, again.”
“And then the imposible happened,” he said as he pulled out his datapad. He opened the photo app and swiped through a few pictures. They all showed a toddler, with messy white hair, one blue eye (just like Marick’s) and one cloudy-white eye. She had tanned skin, freckles, a button nose, and was all smile. As he swiped, she could see the toddler grow to standing, and laughing and grinning and riding Fela like a warhorse.
“We had our first child. My daughter. For the first time in my entire existence…I…added something to the galaxy, instead of subtracting life from it.”
He met Asani’s eyes. “My path has been my own. I walked it, own it, and can now look back at it with introspection. But none of it would have come to pass if I never took that next step. So, even if you don’t know who you are, or what you want…something will happen. I don’t know what, but it will, and I know you will run towards it and achieve your goals.”
He offered a small smile. Faint, but it seemed larger on his otherwise passive, stoic visage.
She listened intently, feeling the weight of every word, every choice he had to make be it for himself or for others. She took note of the sound of his voice when it came to his desire to end the collective and when it came to his wife and saving her.
The datapad lighting up with photos of his family made her smile, she understood the joy he felt in a small way, having her siblings to bother and protect was a joy. Granted sometimes she felt more like their mom than their elder sister.
Seeing his smile made her light up, it was rare to see the stoic man show any kind of expression. “You’ve lived a lot of hardships” She said to him retreating her hand from his knee. “I hope you can spend more time in peace now rather than…all of the hardships that have come before.” she offered a smile in return.
“I really don’t know what time might hold for me at all…I just hope I have the courage or determination to march forward the way you have.” she admitted moving her knees up to her chest,her helmet beside her now placed in a proper upright position.
“I haven’t felt very courageous as of late.” she admitted, her fur shifting from white to a gentle light grey, for someone who chastised her sibling often about her brave attitude it seemed the elder sibling hid behind a veil of mischief to manage the anxious feelings in her heart. “I fear what might happen if I’m unable to protect my baby sisters, or buir, or anyone in my family or even in Arcona. I may not know everyone like my sister does, she cares for so many others, so long as they matter to her they do to me too. Even that boy shes with.” she commented her final words having a hint of protective fire in them.
“what do you think of her by the way? My sister?” she asked not looking at the man directly now but rather at Fela and whatever the furry creature might’ve gotten into.
“Did you ever consider that fear is not a weakness, but a strength, when controlled? Lack of discipline or lapses in will are more dangerous than feeling outright emotions. Emotions are powerful, strong, can change the course of any encounter. But learning control means accepting that…fear is a natural part of what makes us living beings. It spikes adrenaline, can empower you to do things you might not think possible. Defy odds and, yes, even protect your family, buir, your new clanmates….”
“Having courage does not always equal the absence of fear. It takes courage to admit being afraid. And you did so, to someone you don’t know all that well.” His hands stayed folded in his lap.
Marick remained still, but as he continued to speak, a sudden motion stirred next to Asani. Her helmet lifted up, as if pulled by an unseen hand or a specter. It floated slowly into her lap and rested there.
As the Kushiban looked at the Hapan, she was sure he didn’t make any kind of hand gesture. Did he…move her helmet, so smoothly, without lifting a hand? That was subtle use of the Force. Most Telekinesis required a hand wave or gesture.
“Don’t be afraid of who you are. Embrace it, learn it, and master it. Maybe then the next step will become more clear to you.”
He paused, trying to shape words out of the lessons he’d lived. “The body is nothing without the mind. Train your mind, and you can gain mastery over yourself, and the world around you.
The helmet moved slowly toward her lap, resting there once she could only guess Marick himself had moved it, there was no one else around and certainly she hadn’t move it. She was surprised for a moment looking over to him then back at the helmet as if questioning if he had done it, only to listen to his words and realize yes he had, without so much as moving a muscle. It was exciting! To be able to do that would be amazing.
“I hadn’t thought of that” She commented, her helmet still in her lap she stared at it, realizing the extent of mastery he had, she seemed to want it now too. If she took any direction, maybe training her body and mind would be the best one. “Would you teach me? To have such mastery? Its…beyond anything I’ve ever seen anyone do. Even Buir has only ever been able to do that under well…extreme situations only. You just did that without any kind of duress or issue.” She was clearly impressed and thought maybe that kind of control would help ease her.
“I don’t want to be afraid of what it is I am able to do, nor do I want to limit myself like some of my family does when it comes to the Force. I want to be open and receptive to it…even if it might not seem safe to my family. At least, they dont seem to trust that it would be safe. And some downright hate it and wish to be rid of it…” She seemed at odds with her new desire for mastery, for control. Fighting between what might be best for her and what might be worthwhile to her family.
Marick nodded once. “In a fair fight, Buir could best me in single combat and likely knows more about specific military tactics and equipment…”
“But no fight is fair, and I’ve honestly stayed alive as long as I have by…not always fighting fair. I haven’t been called the Gray Fang because I have pointy teeth, for example,”
He pointed briefly at his normal, but pearl white teeth. “But from my knowledge and skill with poison. I’ve mostly put that behind me, but…even the most powerful of warrior is useless if they can’t lift their weapon.”
He looked at her, weighing the resolve in her words. He studied her eyes, searching, like a window into her soul. It was different than how most people- men especially, looked at her. It was again deeper and more Ethereal than a physical thing.
He seemed to understand, without words needing to be said.
“The Force is m like any other weapon or resource. It’s just one of the many tools you have at your disposal if you are lucky. It is not a curse. And in my eyes, the Force isn’t good nor bad, dark or light. It simply…is. It is the energy that connects all living things.
"If used incorrectly, it can lead to irreparable harm. But again, control, discipline, and understanding can lead you to do great things.”
He broke eye contact to look out again at the Courtyard.
“But all things come with a price. Not the training, it would be my privilege to help share what I know with you. But knowledge is the ultimate power…and power can take it’s tole.”
He fidgeted slightly, the gesture standing out against his otherwise perfectly stoic and calm demeanor. “Are you willing to learn more about the secrets of the world around you? The good and the bad. Or do you want to stay on the shore, where it’s safe and familiar?”
She chuckle gently at his baring his teeth for her to see. It was amusing, he could be stoic and yet make quite the funny comments. But he was right, no fight was fair in the galaxy and she should stop treating them like someone might come in to save her, in the end she needed to learn to save herself. She might find herself in a situation where she could not depend on safety from someone having he back one day and she should be prepared to fight to the death no matter what.
“My shore was taken from me from a much too young age. Ive never truly known shore just ports, temporary harbor.” she commented, her eyes full of resolve. Buir wasn’t her blood, but he and everyone after was family. She only knew family to be what you made it to be.
“I was taken from my home, enslaved and treated like an animal. Until I was rescued, found a new home or rather it found me. I want to have the ability to defend myself and those I love. Because no one should be made to feel the way I was.” she commented touching her notched ear for s moment before her hand settled back on her helmet.
“Im willing to learn whatever is necessary to protect everyone I care for.” she finished, his ethereal stare was very different from any glance anyone had ever given her. Yet it never felt dangerous to her, she felt comfort in that.
Marick took in the new information she shared about herself with a stoic calmness she had likely started to expect from him. But his eyes did seem to darken a bit at the mention of being treated like an animal. That was all she could see though was the flicker of darkness in his bright blue eyes. It was gone quickly, but through the Force his aura had spiked if only for a moment.
“I’d be honored to help you. No one should be made to feel lesser or without a choice” he replied, voice as unwaivering as the ancient stone of the Citadel looming beyond the courtyard.
He thought back to being whipped in place of his sister on Hapes. The bastard boy of the Matriarch. Fed scraps, not given clothes, beaten, sleeping under a bed like a scared animal.
“You honor me.” she replied bowing her head. “I hope Im able to be a good student. I haven’t exactly been taught in the most um…formal or common ways. Training was always very different in my family.” she made sure to let him know he might have to be a bit creative with her training.
Not that her short stature didn’t already pose a problem. She was creative, having to do things with more effort than someone twice her size, she likely had to do everything differently, even the mundane things, it would be a different experience for her and maybe for him too if he hadn’t already taught someone so short in stature.
“I’ve literally trained a Jawa as an Agent for the Inquisitorious,” he explained. “But training is different for everyone. It’s why I’ve personally never fallen in line with the Military or Mandalorian techniques, personally. So, it will be learning what works for you, adapting, adjusting…”
“Then at least the experience will help us both” she replied. “A jawa though how did that go?” she asked curious now at how the man had managed to deal with someone who was about her stature.
“Training me was always different and difficult, cant exactly hit me without aiming proper and thats if im sitting still. The hard part with training was always the hand to hand combat though. Im not exactly intimidating.” she let him know her strengths and weaknesses or at least what she perceived them to be.
“But i guess you’ll be the judge of that.” she seemed more relaxed, maybe the though of training eased her.
Marick shrugged a shoulder. “The best tool in an Inquisitorius Agent’s repertoire is the element of surprise. So, size withstanding, most species tend to disregard Jawa’s as a true threat, especially alone, and assume they are just traders. We taught her to lean into that- to use that stereotype to her advantage. She focused her training on active listening, subterfuge, and was honestly one of our best reconnaissance field agents because most people did, in fact, overlook her.”
He glanced Asani up and down, taking in her stature and build. Again, the look was elementary in nature, and in no way leering.
“But yes, you are not wrong. Height, the length of limbs, are limiters. In a fair fight, a brawler with a long reach will have an advantage over someone with shorter arms. But if that becomes a grappling contest, the larger center of gravity can actually be a disadvantage. But even a Sith Lord is subject to the laws of physics. See: Reactor shafts and gravity.”
He stood slowly and invited her to as well. “With your build, you’re likely not going to take on Professional Shockboxer in the ring.” He paused for effect.
“But as we said earlier: no real fight is fair. So we train to highlight your strengths, and adapt to your weakness’. You don’t need to be a burly tavern brawler to be intimidating. Body language is about more than bulk. Confidence, again, the control of your self and the discipline of the mind are more powerful than the flex of a bicep.”
Marick gestured at himself. He was wearing a tight fitting t-shirt, loose pants, and a longcoat that he slowly removed and set aside. He was tall by comparison to a Kushiban, but combined with his lean build and handsom face, he looked more like a model on a holonet commerical than Arcona’s most deadly Assassins.
But then his posture shifted suddenly. His brow furrowed, his face became devoid of any and all human emotion. His bright blue eyes went hard as sapphires, sharp as cut-glass. His shoulders shifted like a hunting cat as he balanced himself like an apex predator. Simultaneously, he let his own aura through the Force radiate out from him. Even a non-Force user would feel something off about him.
“Step aside,” he spoke, his voice like an icy shiver, his eyes locking onto hers.
She stood as he had invited her to, her helmet under her arm. “Well at least I know I can take my sister on in a shockboxing fight and win” she seemed a bit happy about that fact.
“Confidence I have to spare, its the control that eludes me.” she replied at his comment, when it came to acting the part she was good at it at least.
His shift made her anxious then. She hadn’t realized how fast she managed to get her helmet back on her head, an instinct to protect herself when threatened, her hands on her hip legs pointed away and ready to speed away as fast as possible. All the training had made her body move on its own when her mind might’ve been playing catch up. But he could see or maybe even feel almost a sense of desire to fight authority, a defiant nature, soon quelled by the same anxiety that had made her body act on its own. She began stepping away from his direction slowly, never looking away from him as she did.
Marick’s demeanor shifted, quicker than a blink. His posture relaxed back to “normal”, his face remained stoic, but lost all of its hard edges. His aura through the Force became a faint echo on the wind, and his eyes seemed to soften.
“It’s very…” he almost said human, but carefully caught himself. “…natural to have that kind of reaciton. Survival instinct, fight or flight, is core to any…evolved species.”
He frowned slightly, worrying he went a bit too far in his exmaple. He held his hands up to his sides, actually frowned, to the point that she could see the downward turn of his lips, which again might have been the biggest emote of their entire interaction so far. “It’s okay. You’re ok,” he spoke quiet yet firmly, his voice an anchor among a sea at storm.
It took her a moment to notice just how quick her training had moved her body. Hand at her hip, legs ready to jump and eyes on target. She had to take a few breaths to calm herself, she was very glad to have her helmet on at that moment, lest she feel embarrassed to be breathing a bit harder than normal.
Seeing his edges soften, the feeling in the Force dissipating and seeing his arms up she began to slowly move her hand away from her hip, it seemed almost to refuse to move for a moment before finally calming. She re-aligned her legs to a calmer resting stance, rather than the bent springs ready to dash, her tail now swaying rather than stiff as it had been just a second before.
She hated having moved yet every bone in her body had urged her to and she couldn’t deny it. It would be foolhardy to not follow orders against an aura so strong.
“Natural but not necessarily smart or maybe its just what I am. My body moved on its own before my mind could even register what I was doing.” she confessed. Not that it wasn’t obvious to him, but it seemed a point of anger to her, she seemed to struggle between a defiant nature nurtured from youth and an instinct to run as fast as possible.
“Part of that is important. Survival instinct, muscle memory, are all very important. I wouldn’t be here without them,” he explained. “It’s why the military and martial approach works well. Elements of it, at least,” he said the last part with a bit of…whimsy in his voice?
“But again, you see that I’m not overly built. I don’t have fangs, or claws, or…red eyes? If you didn’t know me, you probably wouldn’t have thought much of me as a threat. But with the right mindset, posture, and body language, you can do a lot without having to do much.”
He lowered his hands slowly, and gestured politely for her to take her helmet off, hoping she’d be okay with that. “Mental discipline goes beyond the training of your reflexes or muscles. It’s not easy, but, well. I’ve tried to set anyone that’s put their trust in me up to survive.”
He seemed to go distant for a moment. The problem with an edicit memory was that it cut both ways. He remembered every single face of every officer in the field that came back in a body bag, every agent sent under cover that never returned, apprentices scarred permentantly when he was not enough to protect them.
“Was that joy just now?” she asked curious, she had noticed his frown but chosen not to comment on it. Negative emotions were hard enough to deal with.
“Yeah but you’re human, you don’t look like a toy meant for a child. And certainly don’t have the height for it.” she began removing her helmet, placing it to her hip, holding it with one of her arms. Her color betraying how quickly the edge had gotten to her as it was still shifting from darker greys to lighter ones being near white.
“Discipline…has never really come easy to me. Can’t tell you how many times I ended up shot, electrocuted or sent to my room because I went to far with a practical joke against one or more of my siblings or even Buir.” she said with a bit of humor in her voice, she was fond of practical jokes.
She noticed him then seeming distracted or lost in thought. “you okay?” she asked then hoping to elicit a story or a response from him.
“Hm?” he quickly snapped out of his reverie. “Yes. Appologies. Here I am talking about mental alacrity…and lapsing. I want to blame age, but, that would be an untruth.”
“The truth is, Asani, knowledge is power, but with that power comes a heavy weight. Nothing is given freely, and the more you learn about the nature of the galaxy, the Force, and the things that bind everything together. The more you realize how overwhleming it all can be. Over time, it can drag you down. But…”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little crystal hanging on a thin piece of leather. “This is a ‘charm’ Kirra made for me. She said that she put happy thoughts into it and that i should carry it with me.” He smiled and re-pocketed it. “The trick, I guess, to dealing with the weight. The price of all our knowing, is to find the things that ground you, make you whole, make you smile, and remind you that you’re alive in these moments beyond whatever the greater galaxy tries to throw at you.”
“And yes, I’m cognizant of what you mean by your appearance. But that can be used to your advantage, and it should not be seen as a weakness. You don’t need to change who you are and what makes you…you. I learned that the…hard way. But you can find balance, be yourself, and improve on your weaknesses to become the person that you..want to be.”
“No, its fine.” She replied at his sudden return from his own internal space travels.
“Your daughters adorable. Your family is beautiful and Im glad you have them to keep grounded. Im still trying to maintain that structure for myself.” she looked down at her helmet letting out a sigh.
“Marick, I don’t think you realize just how out of place I am…what’s another mountain to someone who’s accustomed to climbing them? Just another mountain.” she looked down at the grass then at Fela after a moment.
Looking up to meet his eyes she turned her body around outstretched for him to get a complete look at her, her legs her tail, all of her, in her armor. “I know I can become what I want to be, but Im also cognizant of what I am. What do you think a carnivorous creature a bit larger than Fela over there with those sharp fangs would do to me? I must always be ready to run, if any enemy ever catches me, Im not just dead, I’m food. Its jaws around my neck…” she seemed to be commenting from either having imagined, seen or experienced something similar, her fur tinted darker shades for a moment and her hand twitched as if wishing to protect her neck.
She stopped herself then, taking a deep breath “But first they must catch me.” she lifted her ears for him to see her notched ear. “Its just another mountain.” she commented. She seemed aware yet naïve at the same time, aware of the danger but maybe not truly realizing the weight of it.
Marick studied her, like a painter committing a scene to memory. He listened patiently, then nodded once. “I understand.But as I’m sure you know, there’s always someone higher in the…food chain. Applies to nature and the galaxy at large. So we’ll start with learning how to ‘flip the script’ as Wyn would call it. I’d call it ‘turning out fears into strengths, and subverting the cycle of predator and prey- become the apex and you have more control of your fear.”
He tilted his head very slightly. “But the fear never goes away. There will always be another mountain, yes, but I want to help you.” He nodded once.
“I know you feel out of place, but in Arcona…we all are. And that’s why we are all drawn together. Not all of us had a Buir or a family. We found that, like you all did, just here. And together, we’ve grown strong, and we’ve stood up to anyone that’s tried to attack us. We are not just a Clan, but a collection of out of place misfits and weirdos.”
“Atyiru came from a desolate farm world, bright eye–er, cheerful and optimistic light despite entering a world of shadows and darkness. I had my first cup of hot drinking chocolate when I was training here at the Citadel after graduating from the Shadow Academy. I didn’t even know you could drink choclate, let alone what it actually tasted like. I’d used to settle for scraps or licking the wrappers I found…”
“All of that to say- I believe you belong here. And if you’ll let me, I would be honored to show you everything I’ve learned that’s gotten me to where I’m standing today.”
“Id like that.” she commented calmer now, he was aware of her fears and she was willing to accept help in order to “flip the script” as he or rather his friend had elegantly put it.
“When can we start?” she asked, eager to learn. For someone who feared becoming prey she was eager to fight and put herself in danger. Maybe it was her personality or maybe it was the result of growing up mandalorian.
She placed her helmet back on her head then in anticipation. Weary of a fight but also maybe just tired of carrying it. Stretching a bit ready for any physical activity he might start with.
Granted with how he behaved she worried it might be something mental rather than physical.
Marick seemed to consider a few things at once. His eyes didn’t go distant, but it was clear that he was sifting through a rolodex of encyclopedic knowledge to isolate what would be the best next step. “I suppose we could start now. There are no active missions drawing my attention.”
He glanced over at Fela. “Fela, come here please,” he called out, voice carrying without having to yell.
Fela’s ears perked up. She had been rolling around on her back in the grass, probably getting the scent of some dead animal. She sprung back to her three-paws, let out a defiant howl, and ran in the opposite direction.
Marick’s exhale was slow, long, and a bit too drawn out.
Asani looked at the fluffy pets direction, wondering what it is she might’ve been rolling in. “Nows a good a time as any. Im not distracted by missions either.” she stated.
Felas howl made her uneasy for a moment but she soon relaxed knowing it was just the fluffy creature being maybe playful as she ran in the opposite direction she was called in.
Soon the lagomorph found herself chuckling at her new masters rather exasperated exhale. “Sorry if its rude but might I ask why you’re always stoic?” she asked then out of the blue.
Shed be lying if she said she didn’t notice the way his expression rarely changed from a near stone disposition to just barely a hint of a smile, the fact he had emoted so much made her feel lucky at the very least.
Marick blinked once. It wasn’t a rude question. Atyiru had teased him, sure. Wyn still made fun of him and said he was bad at telling stories. But, it was honest, coming from her.
“Timeros was like that…this. Always calm. Always in control. Nothing phased him. He could walk through a battle without blinking. My first battle? I got knocked out by my own thrown lightsaber and then hid behind a trench. My first Great Jedi War I panicked, and my Aedile had to take command while I got myself together. During that war…so many things happened. My first command. People died because I wasn’t enough. Because I let my emotions control me. I lost two mentors in that war. Father figures, if you would. And with their sacrifice for the rest of us, for us to escape, my safety net was gone, and I was forced into the spotlight. Clan Arcona needed a new Proconsul, an heir to the Serpentine Throne.”
He paushed, whistful, calm still. “There was no more place for emotion. My duty and role was clear. Arcona had saved me, and given me everything. And so, I decided to give back to it, and turned myself into the leader I thought it needed. I developed an active mindset, a constant way of thinking that let me strip away my emotions so I could make snap-decisions and never hesitate or show weakness. After…so many years? Even now, it’s…very difficult to turn off.”
He fidgeted slightly. “The left sleeve of your armor is slightly shorter than the right,” he commented idly. “I can also tell you that there are two Citadel Guards on the far end of these grounds that have looked over at us a few times. They won’t approach, but they made note that we are here, and continued on their rounds. When I walk into a room, I don’t stand near windows. I don’t stand with my back to a door.”
He made a vague gesture. “I’m trying to be better, but with every new attack, or challenge. It’s hard to let go and just…be myself? Only with Kirra and Weyne does it seem possible…
She nodded at his observations. The observation about her armor being ever slightly shorter on one side surprised her, she had forgotten, but then armor didn’t exactly come in her size, she always expected things to be flawed in some way.
“I’ll be sure to start doing those things, Im so short it never dawns on me, everything and everyone is always cover…I’m sorry you were thrust into a spotlight like that.” there was empathy in her voice even through the emotionless T visor helmet he could hear she was genuine about how she felt for the man, it wasn’t pity, it was an ache with hints of understanding.
“I do wish I had better control over my emotions at times…” there was shame in her words then. If he kept any kind of gossip circle he’d know how over reactive she was under the right circumstances, not that their previous lesson with her sister didn’t make that painfully obvious.
“Im trying to be better too…” she related to his struggle, better didn’t just happen, it was work. A lot of work. “I’m sure we’ll manage to find balance eventually…” she said to him hints of hope in her tone.
“I think so,” he said, nodding. “We can’t control the past. Only the future. Only…the next step that we take.”
He thought for a moment then had a crazy idea. Hopefully Asani didn’t immediately think him a bad teacher, but, he was going to try.
“I want you to try and catch Fela. Without chasing her or phsyically touching her.”
She stared brows furrowed for a moment, at least he would have been able to see them if she wasn’t wearing her helmet. “How can I catch something without touching or chasing? I could ask her to come but its clear she listens to no one.” she said, remembering the rather amusing sigh Marick let out as Fela had denied any kind of approach earlier.
She was hiding her fear of ‘animals’, or at least of creatures that lacked the intelligence for complex forms of communication and speech. “I’ll figure it out…I guess” her final words sounded more like a question than a confident statement.
“Well, I’ve removed your instinctive way of solving a problem. You can’t run. And you can’t chase after it and utilize your speed an agility. So. What other tools do you have at your disposal?”
He mused.
Marick reached out a hand and, with a bare hint of focus made a gesture.
In reaction to the gesture, some fallen branches of a tree nearby wiggled, lifted and moved themselves into Fela’s path.
The three legged Cythraul, somehow, managed to stop on a dime, pivot, but whipped her head to look back towards her father with pure utter betrayal.
“I don’t solve all of my problems running. Just the life and death ones!” The kushiban woman explained in an obviously dramatic tone. Seeing Felas betrayed look she chuckled.
“I can trap Fela but…I could just ask her to come over.“ She pondered the idea for a while, trying to focus her Force abilities and ask the cythraul to saunter over. She wasn’t sure it would have any effect but it was worth trying anyway.
Her attempts at using her abilities managed to produce the desired effect of having something happen, she managed to catch the creature. She gently tugged at Fela in order to lead her back towards Marick and herself.
Fela lifted up in to the air. Most creatures, when this happened, would likely panic. But Fela, thanks to a combination of her disability, and her ability to milk it/work a crowd to get what she wanted, honestly did not mind it. It was like swimming in the air!
The cythraul made a motion of slowly paddling the air with her paws, then let her tongue loll out the side of her mouth as she swished her tail.
“Size matters not,” Marick repeated an old adage. “Well, it does, but when it comes to the Force, it really does just come down to willpower and focus.
His hand extended, and, in time with her, he helped slowly guide Fela towards the two of them. While he might have been doing some of the work, Asani was able to maintain her concentration. Fela plopped down next to Marick, made a huffing noise, and quickly turned her back to her father, sticking her nose up in the air, pointedly, away from him.
She then looked up at the Kushiban, and ler her tongue lol out to the side again. Up close, Asani could see the little red bow she liked to wear, and her cream-and-brown coat that made her look like a giant toasted marshmallow.
"See? You accomplished the task in a way that you normally wouldn’t have. You had to catch yourself from doing the instinct. Pause. Think. Analyze. Come up with multiple plans. Then trial and error to gain experience. Over time, those experiences will stack to make things easier for you to control.
“Its hard to handle using the Force when Im the one who uses it most in my family.” she commented chuckling as Fela was seemingly upset at Marick, she dared to pet the giant three legged fluff-ball.
“Control is hard when fear is sort of a factor of life for you. My Armor makes me feel safe but I know Im not impervious to all attacks…” she looked up at the man, as she usually did with everyone, hand now away from Fela.
“Im light on my feet but I think ultimately my final plan is…if I can’t run away from a combat situation, I fear I’ll run into it. Its foolhardy but if I had to choose Id jump face first at the enemy if it meant my companions or family survived. I want to avoid that scenario happening again.” she commented with a shake of her head, recalling some memory from long ago.
“How do you do it? Keep your emotions in check like that? How do you stop fear from creeping into your very bones? Think of multiple plans, catch yourself from moving without the instinct taking over?” she asked pondering to the man perhaps too many questions at once, she was eager but also impatient it seemed. “Are there instincts you have to hold back from?” she asked then, searching for help, or at least some form of comfort in knowing she wasn’t alone in having to force herself to stop doing certain things like fleeing.
Fela folded her ears back and nuzzled into the Kushiban’s hand. She had been born with complications, and kept in a lab for safety. So she lacked the “prey” drive most Cythraul had, but since Cythraul were sensitive-to-the-Force and smarter than the average Arx wolf, they didn’t seem to view the lagamorph as not a ‘fren’. Why would they be fren shaped, then?
“Your armor is a tool that becomes a crutch,” Marick explained calmly. “But like any tool, it is still useful, as long as you’re not too dependant on it. That takes…time, practice, training, trust, experience…”
“Wanting to save your family and sacrifice yourself apparently runs like a…contagion through Clan Arcona’s water supply,” he added dryly. “It’s an admirable trait and not something that should be walled off- but you can learn to better act on that instinct when you can control and adapt. Either way, you’re in good company,” he said the last part a bit of an aside.
He frowned then, replaying her questions, making sure he touched on all of them. “I mentioned earlier that I had to learn an actively meditative state of mind that stripped away emotion and only left logic and attention to detail. I thought that was the only way. When you lock your heart behind a wall of stone, it’s easy to then make snap decisions. Yet, as I’ve grown, and lived, and experienced things…well, that was just a crutch. The easy way towards it. And I paid the cost…which is why it’s…hard, now, to let go. To…act on my emotions. Anger, fear, those are familiar, easy to work with. But laughing at one of Wyn’s really bad jokes, or enjoying a play or show….difficult.” He shrugged helpelessly.
“The real answer, of course, is experience. Collecting experience, and combining it with control and attention to detail can acheive a similar affect. If you don’t spend too much time having to "remember” what to do in a new situation, you can act quicker. You can pull from similar experiences and then act.“
She was glad Fela at least wasn’t ready to chomp her arm off. “I jumped without armor…that’s why it’s dangerous. And heh i guess we do fit in with Arcona perfectly then.” she commented thinking about her own family and the many dumb stunts they had been foolish enough to get caught in.
“I find myself dominated by my emotions…Im too easy to anger and snap. Too defensive. Its hard to stay calm. I cant handle what I find to be ‘disrespect’. Even snap at my sisters sometimes. But thats not what I want to be either.” She seemed to be focused on making sure she could do better than her current best.
“We’re not exactly in life or death situations daily…its not something you can really train for…you can train but at the end of the day you could just as easily freeze. Im just worried i wont be able to act should the time come.” she let out a sigh.
“Hilarious that you find it difficult to be humorous while it comes natural to me…its like a bad joke.” she chuckled. “maybe I could teach you humor.” she said taking a moment and shaking her head “but then you’d be the one everyone would complain about and maybe you’re better off just being known as stoic” she commented realizing perhaps he should keep his high status instead of ruining his name and reputation.
“It’s the thought that counts,” he replied easily, not bothered by the offer. “I’m learning slowly at my own rate. Hopefully, eventually, I’ll be better at doing the ‘different voices’ when I tell a story so i’m less boring. Kirra is very adamant on doing the voices, and how I do them wrong,” he thought of his daughter folding her arms defiantly and did smile.
“I think spending time will just help. I need to just…exist and be around people and treated like…a person. Not my status or title.”
He studied her. “Emotion is good. I will not teach you supress it. I will not teach you to be someone you are not. What I will aim to teach you, however, is to be more in control of yourself, so you can be the person you want to be.”
“Id appreciate that. I don’t want to always be a mess. I know you wont teach me to suppress anything but don’t blame me if I ever try.” she chuckled, it was a lighthearted joke. At least it appeared to be.
“And I can help with the voices better than the humor. Granted…” she got out her own datapad and showed him some of her own more messy memories, one of Sagitta laying down sleeping with what appeared to be stacks of food on her, the next slide being a blurry Asani with a messy, stained, food covered Sagitta chasing her. “You won’t have to worry about being treated as anything other than who you are from me. Or my sister.” she was happy to share some of her successful prank exploits.
Marick nodded as he looked at the pictures, his eyes committing each image to memory, noting the details, the way that the siblings interacted. While this was instinctive for him to absorb and process visual information as data, he did simply…enjoy looking at the pictures, too.
“I appreciate that.”
“She never expects it. Every time its a new dish stack and its always hilarious” the kushiban admitted with a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Of course, can’t have little ones unhappy. We’re here to create a better galaxy for them.” she commented while showing him a few more pictures, one seeming very recent, a different sister, covered in fur and fruit, seeming distracted and unaware that the elder sibling had taken the photo. Asani herself looked like she had been pummeled by a fruit cart as her fur was a rather bright shade of a purple-pink hue.
“So how exactly do you read or tell stories to your little one?” She asked then, wishing to help him as eagerly as he had helped her.
“A better galaxy…” Marick spoke softy in agreement, his eyes going a bit distant. “The second she was born…I knew. I knew that was what I was put here for. To make a better world for her.”
He shook his head slightly. “Wait, first you need to tell me more about this fruit cart. But, she likes to hear all kinds of stories. New ones, too. Unfortunately, I have to go study or look up stories in the archives, and then try to make them ‘un-boring’. I guess i don’t get the inflection to differentiate the different characters.”
“Its what want for my sisters” she said to him looking at the datapad again. “This was a morning I felt the urge to mess with Erin a little. She stays locked up in her room with her gadgets all the time so whenever shes out and about I make sure to mess with her a little. I had some meiloorun i think, all over my fur, decided to give her a VERY warm hug.” her voice had lots of mischief behind it, she really seemed to enjoy pulling practical jokes on everyone.
“Covered her in my fur and the fruit, she had to wash it off her shirt, stickiest day ever. My fur was pinkish purple for a while and sooo sticky it was the worst. But we hugged it and kind of brawled it out too” she pointed at her fur and the seeds present in the image.
“And okay then, Hmmm okay lets see try it out on me. Your stories or well reading.” she insisted. She wanted to hear all of his impressions and where he could improve.
Marick thought for a moment. “A story. Well. There is one of her favorites about a wolf cub who must overcome the loss of her father to reclaim her place as "Queen” of the wolves,“ he explained.
He leaned back against the pillar and started to recite it he was able to. "Once, there was a wolf cub who was born to inherit the mantle of Queen of the woods,” his voice was clear and sharp, but did not have any kind of waiver or lilt. It wasn’t that it was hard to hear, just that there was no inflection. “On the day of her birth, a friendly monkey held the cub up high for all the gathered woodland critters to see, and they all bowed to their new princess, Kimba.”
He gestured towards Fela, who was definitely far too big to lift up without an effort in the force. Thanks to some easy amplification, he lifted the Cythraul up, somehow and held her out. “It was easier when Fela was still growing…”
Fela leaned into the act, letting out a tiny howl.
He then put Fela down and cleared his throat.
“Kimba grew up learning to hunt and lead, but never really liked her lessons. She wanted to explore, and sate her curioisty. Then, one day, while exploring, she came back to find that her aunt, Sicarra, had pushed her mother into a hunters trap, and blame it on poor Kimba. Kimba let out a fierce roar of defiance, but was forced to flee deeper into the woods.”
Marick then said: “Roar.”
It was not a sound affect. It was a pale attempt at a sound affect.
Asani couldn’t help but stifle laughs as they attempted to erupt from her mouth, had she not been wearing the helmet it might’ve been easier to disguise. Her hands traveling up to her face made her attempt at decency far too obvious.
“I-it…it could…” her giggling was restraint “use some work.” she said now coughing or attempting to in order to disguise her laughs. She was trying at the very least her best to not find the humor in it.
“Ke-…keep going, m-maybe you’ll fair better with character voices.” she managed to get her humor under control although she was glad he couldn’t see the rather enormous smile she had.
She couldn’t help but remember her own buir telling her stories though. It was nice to reminisce on her own youth and how much she had changed.
Marick stared at Asani flatly. It was a look that she had likely seen from Buir many times. It was something only a father could pull off- stern, patient, but skeptical.
Normally the lagomorphic woman would hush up with a stare like that from her own buir but she couldn’t help but replay his flat “roar” in her head and was doing her best to not laugh.
“G-go on!” she seemed to force out after a moment, he could make out a gentle sound of giggling from her, nothing overly strong but he had gotten her to laugh with his flat “roar”.
Marick went quiet, and then seemed to chew on his molars. Then he let out a breathy “Raaaahwr!” and raised his hands like claws.
Asani had to hold herself back and pretend to be coughing again, as Maricks attempts at roaring seemed to only make her laugh harder. She had her work to do of course she realized, yet never in a million years expected to see someone roar in such breathy monotonous way.
“You see what I mean? I’m sure in time I can…learn or study or train to be better at it. But just as you view it as hard to learn mental fortification, discipline, well, nothing is easy, right?”
“I’m not used to making other people laugh. I always assume Kirra laughs because everything amuses a 6 year old, but I guess there is some hope for an old dog like me.”
Despite his words, and probably due to his Hapan genetics, Marick looked no older than his late 20s. You’d have to look into his eyes and really study him to see how time worked differnetly for him, and how those eyes had seen hundres of years worth of experience; life and death, the world beyond, the future, the past, the present, never closing never resting.
She chuckled “Of course, it isn’t easy, but its possible…” the words seemed to dawn and take new meaning as she spoke.
“Nothing worth doing is ever easy is it?” she asked chuckling a little more. “I apologize for laughing so much I just wasn’t expecting your performance to be so…unique. But yes even you can learn to make silly voices for your daughter. Enjoy her youth as much as you can, she wont be that way forever. We can workshop some uh performances until you’re satisfied.” she was willing to work with him as long as it took it seemed.
“Granted Im sure she will love anything you do for her no matter what. You know her best though, so really any improvement on your end will be bonus for you. Who knows it might catch others off guard and you can start messing with peoples expectations” her voice had that hint of mischief as she finished her sentence. She noticed he did look quite young, but his eyes betrayed the weight of the years on him.
Marick seemed to consider that. Mischief. For all of his life, he’d simply been on the receiving end of it. He did not count espionage or infiltration as mischief, just duty. Thane-well, Darth Renatus, the now Deputy Grand Master, used to re-arrange his desk when he was absent to tease Marick when he was on the Council. Wyn was always playing pranks and coming up with schemes. Atyiru had dedicated their relationship to trying to invent different ways to get him to smile. K'tana had left glitter bombs for him to stumble upon.
Could he do…something like that? Curious.
“You alright?” she asked him, he seemed lost in thoughts as if considering something. Had she sparked an idea in him? Maybe she might’ve said something out of line?
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to if thats what you’re thinking about?” she stated but it really sounded more like a question. She knew her idea of mischief and others idea of it didn’t always align perfectly, she was being perhaps a bit cautious.
“No, no,” he replied quietly. “Just considering if I could execute a prank. There seems to be a line between the ‘fun’ part and the ‘tactical’ part that eludes me. I have never been one for battleplans, but exploiting an enemies weakness, finding openings, circumnavigating safeguards is standard operating procedure…”
“Well what eludes you? you plan your prank, you execute the plan, the prank is a success of failure. Either way its fun!” she said beaming now. The idea of helping him pull off a prank seemed to be the most delightful thing in the galaxy. She really enjoyed causing chaos everywhere she went.
“You choose your victim first though thats the best part. Knowing you’ll get a reaction out of em” she said hands now rubbing together in deep thought.
“But what if they don’t find the humor in the prank? Or get upset? Reading people is easy for me- assess threat, posture weaponry, intent….but their emotions? Confusing.”
“Then you’re the one who benefited from the prank. They’ll be a little upset but they’ll usually forgive if its something generally minimal. If they don’t you can gove them food as an apology, food usually works out with people.” she seemed to soeak from maybe too much experience creating chaos for others. “You just gotta know what the like between funny and cruel is” she was happy to indulge anyone on a new prank especially if she was teaching them how to prank.
Marick nodded along, and did the mental equivalent of taking notes on a notepad, just with his expression.
“So who’s your victim?” she asked with glee. “Unless you have a list of en we can run it down one by one until we find the perfect candidate.” her hands were rubbing together again. She may have already had a few plans in mind .
Marick considered. “Darth Renatus…but perhaps we aim for someone a bit more accessible first?” He thought about who was currently not going through trama or trouble, but realized the list was short.
“Darth Renatus that seems like a rea-DARTH RENATUS?!” she said surprised. Wondering what could’ve possibly possessed Marick to go after him. “why Renatus?” she asked then more curious after the initial shock subsided.
“Well. He did it to me. A lot and often. He also dismantled my service droid when he took over Combat Master after me. Then he rearranged my office and desk stuff. Moved my mouse two inches to the right of where it is supposed to be, tilted my monitor, and so on…”
“so its a personal surprise prank that could escalate to a prank war…” the gears in her head could practically be heard turning as she began devising a plan. “We can try when you have more…experience or when hes less…” she made a hand gesture as if clawing or gripping, “tense.”
Marick nodded at the sage wisdom, hand on his chin, introspection taking over his entire face as his mind began to clockwork churn.
“Thank you, Asani. It is rare that I get to…just talk to people,” he said, and slowly extended a hand towards her.
“Well I’m glad I can help educate a young fledgling in the ways of pranking! And its always nice to just sit down, relax and chat.” she said enthusiastically, extending her own hand and shaking with his. It was nice to have someone to talk to.