The Ascent wasn’t always doom and gloom. No, there were lives passing within its halls. They were bundles of energy, experiencing the world around them. Each moment they touched on one another like a chain reaction that would forever alter the course of their fate.
Yet so much of that was contained to the officers and workers. For the Councilors themselves, their stressors came elsewhere. Their chain reactions of much grander a scale.
So it was that they were instructed to take some down time while the Brotherhood wasn’t in a state of open war. “Bonding time” it had been called in the missive as Thane reread his datapad’s screen with his black-gold eyes.
“Seems inefficient,” the Deputy Grand Master muttered even as he was the first to arrive in the designated rec hall. The lights were dim, as they always were when he was involved, and a desk was prepared with a chair for each potential Councilor. Various board games lined the walls and there were holo-tablets available as well.
Erinyes arrived a few minutes after Thane. The Zeltron pushed a hand cart containing several cases of cargo, including a portable cooler. She nodded to the Deputy Grand Raptor Master as she entered the room. “Evening. I brought refreshments. I hope you don’t mind.”
The man’s hawkish gaze turned to the Zeltron behind him. “I do not,” came his even reply. In fact, he was more than certain he would be imbibing before the evening was through. Especially if Kamjin was going to be involved.
No, absolutely because he was.
The sound of a hacking cough echoed down the corridor into the room. The type of wet phlegm producing racking cough that shakes the body and strains the brain.
A few moments later a sneeze echoed in followed by more coughing as the Justicar came walking in, a soaked handkerchief being lowered from his inflamed nose.
His eyes sunken and bloodshot as he shuffled in. “‘I” he mumbled, coughing up more phlegm into his handkerchief. “I’m ‘ere. What’s the ‘eeting ‘bout?” He said, finding a sofa chair to collapse into.
The well-polished helmet of the Voice popped in through the open door to the room. It turned slowly taking in the atmosphere, including a long pause to stare at what he assumed was a stuffed corpse of the man who was allegedly their Justicar.
He made sure to linger, awkwardly leaning into the room long enough for those few that had gathered thus far to be very much aware of his presence.
“I brought some classics from home,” he said waving a holoprojector with the word Cubikahd written on the side in the Mando’a script, and another small box.
“Oh, good. More taste-testers.” The Zeltron had pushed her handcart to an empty spot at a side table and started unloading bottles. There were several shades of amber, two clear, and one sapphire, labelled as different forms of spirit, as well as bartending accessories. It seemed her penchant for catering events had only grown since her contributions to Thane’s unwilling celebration of his appointment as Dacien’s right-hand man.
“You sound like you need something to disinfect your… self,” she said to Kamjin. She was already moving to retrieve three glasses from inside one of her cargo crates.
Thane glanced between the others as they filed in. Genuine curiosity filled him as he observed Kamjin in his plague-riddled state. In this day and age, with the prevelance of bacta and even the Justicar’s own attunement with the Force, getting sick was unheard of.
At least not to this extent.
For the briefest moments of he considered healing the man just for his own sake. It lasted only a fleeting breath before he settled on it being not worth the effort.
“Adenn, will it take all evening to learn?” Thane inquired regarding the ‘classics’ from home. There was no point breaking open a game that they’d not have time to play.
“Minutes to learn, a lifetime to master!” Idris answered enthusiastically. “Cubikahd * can be learned by children. It involves *stabbing,” he continued. He looked around at the others. He clarified, “a holoprojection of a block. Not each other.”
“T'ank ‘ou, Erin,” Kamjin sniffled out. “A warmed whiskey would…” Kamjin began hacking again as he quickly moved to cover his mouth with his sleeve. As he removed his hand a wad of phlegm could briefly be seen in the folds of his robe.
“'orry, warmed whiskey would help,” he finished. His blood shot eyes glazed lazily over at the Voice who was talking way to loud for his current state of well being but he did love a good game.
Erinyes’ expression brightened visibly when Idris mentioned stabbing, but her enthusiasm seemed to dim with his clarification. “I’m up for whatever people feel like playing.” She poured two glasses of a suspiciously unlabelled amber liquid topped up with lemon juice and simple syrup. “I don’t have a way to warm this up, but the citrus should help. Thane, tell me how aged you think this is.” Erinyes floated the two sours to the two other Dark Jedi, because like hell was she getting within Kamjin’s slime range.
“Why?” Thane inquired as he accepted the hovering glass, wrapping two fingers around it and one below it in a careful grip. The Firrerreo was confused as to what purpose guessing the age of the liquor would have. There was no obvious benefit to it. It was just something he was about to drink.
“We’re using a new distillation process to try to simulate the effects of aging a whisky without needing to let it sit in a barrel for years or decades. I’m trying to see whether people who drink whisky regularly will notice the difference, even with all the other flavourings.”
The doors to the hall opened and the Fist of the Brotherhood entered, arms waving in the arm excitedly, “WHAT CONTESTS OF WIT AND SKILL AWAIT US?”
While he preferred matches of a more physical nature, it was widely known that Rajhin eagerly accepted all challenges big or small. He interpreted an invitation to “game night” as a friendly competition rather than an opportunity for downtime.
Thane took a tentative sip, pausing only due to the force of Rajhin’s entrance. After that momentary stare, the Deputy swallowed down the mixture and appraised it. “8…10 years perhaps?”
Kamjin took the floated tumbler with two hands. He cradled it under his nose, wishing he could smell the aroma through his clogged sinuses. “‘Hank…” Kamjin started to say as Rajhin burst through the doors.
Kamjin spilled part of the whiskey down his cloak as he jumped at the unexpected barging in of the Fist. As his body reacted he began a coughing fit of deep, chesty, phlegmy convulsions.
Kamjin gestured towards the Fist trying to say 'Hi’ through his coughs and what looked to be an attempt at a smile.
As if orchestrated ahead of time, the lighting around the shelving units increased. Like they were asking for attention. A variety of games were on display and waiting to be selected.
Erinyes jumped at Rajhin’s… entrance, nearly spilling the drink she’d been pouring for herself. “Nice to meet you,” she said, turning to the tiger-man and offering him a hand. “Can I get you a drink? I think I’ve got some nepeta liqueur here.”
Then, back to Thane: “Thanks for the feedback. It seems the distillers were successful.”
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Rajhin paused for a moment, remembering the last time he had imbibed nepeta liqueur. That particular spirit is known to have a unique effect on Togorians and Cathar. “I’ll take some of the nepeta if you have it,” he requested in an unsarcastically soft manner.
“Gladly. Let’s see…” She started digging through the crates again. “I tried nepeta once before, wandering around the Perlemian. It’s surprisingly minty.”
“Ah, here we go.” She retrieved another clear bottle and glass. “Neat, or with a mixer?”
Kamjin sneezed, snot dripping down his nose while he looked for a tissue. “So what game are we gonna play?”
Kamjin wheezed as he found a used tissue, unfolded it, and blew.
“I’m up for Adenn’s holographic stabbing game, or whatever else people find interesting.”
“Adenn,” Thane said, turning his attention to the Voice. “Elaborate on the rules?”
Part of being smart was recognizing when you didn’t know something. Another was being able to admit it and ask questions.
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“There is a cube, each player has four knives and take turns moving around the cube. Each face of the cube is divided into a six by six grid. Each stab is a move with the goal of capturing your opponents pieces,” Idris explained excitedly
Kamjin shuddered at all the talk of stabbing. When you’re Emperor it’s a life hazard.
“Simple,” Thane appraised positively. He nodded before gesturing to the table, causing the chairs to slide out. “Play a few rounds.”
The Deputy moved to his own seat and watched as Idris set up the cube.
“How many players is that game?” Kamjin asked, wiping his nose again.
“Two to four,” Idris replied as the holoprojector sprung to life. The Mandalorian very quickly claimed the red pieces.
“You can play from over there just tell us the move you want to make,” he added as the Justicar continued to sniffle.
Once Rajhin had indicated his desired style of drink, Erinyes finished preparing it and floated it over to him with the Force. “Enjoy. I have no idea how strong nepeta normally is, so maybe be careful with the first taste.”
Then, to the VOICE: “I take it you’re a tihaar man. Are you a purist, or do you accept Mandalorian-themed energy drinks?”
“If I can drink it, I’m game,” the Voice replied.
“In that case, try this.” A tall chilled drink can, red with a yellow lightning bolt, floated out of one of the crates. Lettering down the side in both Basic and Mandalorian script read Mando'ade: Varos-Flavoured Energy Drink with Real Tihaar. “We made it as a tribute to Appius, but I’m told it’s popular on Zsoldos, too. Would you like a glass?”
“Sounds kandosii'la. Let’s so how it compares to the ones back home. Thank you.”
“Oya.” She didn’t speak many languages, but “cheers” was universal. A glass with ice floated over to Idris.
Idris placed his helmet on the table and raised the glass in the air before taking a long strong drink.
“Electrifying. Just like Appius.”
“If you have too many of them, you’ll be as hyperactive as he is, too.”
“I imagine I would die before reaching that amount.”
Kamjin sneezed. Blowing his nose again he waived the soiled tissue, mouthing ‘sorry’ before sneezing again.
“Let’s not talk about dying. This cold is murder.”
Thane continued on ignoring the plague bringer’s existence. His eyes focused on Idris and he inclined his head.
“Take the first move.”
“Blade to cube face 3,” Idris said. With a flash the cube was dramatically pierced by a red blade. The game was on.
“Blade, cube face 4,” Thane intoned. He watched as his own blue blade flashed into place with a dramatic thud on the face opposite from Idris’.
“Blade, cube faaaaace,” Kamjin fought to constrain his latest sneeze and failed. “One,” Kamjin said, as a green blade pierced the cube.
“Need healing?” came the Firrerreo’s inquiry from his spot at the table. He wasn’t overly interested in catching whatever Kamjin had, however the human managed to succumb to it.
“What was that?” Kamjin said, pinching his nose and puffing his cheeks. Snot gurgled from his eyes. “Everything is congested.”
Idris leaned in towards the cube deep in thought. Like life Cubikahd had its moments to be aggressive, and moments to show restraint.
It was a lesson his three opponents apparently already knew, perhaps a little too well. His brain fired a lightyear a second, yet also seemed to be stuck in the mud. He probably should have slowed down drinking Tihaar. He smirked seeing an opening and moved one of his blades in to capture.
Only moments too late did he realize it also left himself open. He cursed softly and took another long drink. Maybe they wouldn’t notice. He was just thankful this wouldn’t impact his galactic ranking in the game. He wouldn’t be able to show his face at home for months if that happened.
Thane folded his arms across his chest as the game progressed. Eventually, he brought a hand up to his chin as he entered into deep thought.
“Curious,” he remarked. The Firrerreo understood its mechanics at an intellectual level in short order, but there was something to be said about experience. While he had been knocked out, Thane’s attention never drifted. Instead, he stared intently.
“Unfortunate, Adenn,” Thane pointed out, seeing what the other man did at nearly the same moment. Surely Rahjin would too, right?
Rajhin carefully weighed his options as he made each move before an opening presented itself. “The patient hunter gets his prey,” he remarked coldly before making a devastating move.
“Tiger wins,” Thane stated, downing what remained of his drink. Finding himself both out of the game and liquor, the Deputy Grand Master let the table and raided the prepared snacks.
Kamjin sneezed and sent his dagger piece flying through the air. Wiping his nose, he pulled out a pack of branded DB:CCG cards. “Anyone fancy a game?”
Partly as an excuse to get further away from Kamjin’s infectious miasma, Erinyes returned to the side table acting as a bar, retrieving the whiskey she’d previously offered Thane. “Anyone else for a refill?”
Idris raised his hand. “Yes please and thank you.”
Rajhin’s pupils started to dilate as he took another sip of the nepeta. Without warning he stood up, nearly knocking over his chair, and began pacing around the room.