Session export: Kasiya Food and Beverage Expo (Nighttime)

It was a telling thing that Marick Tyris Arconae– Shadow Lord emeritus through the Dark Crusades, and later Voice during Pravus’…unique way of bringing the Clans under the Council’s order – was bringing his daughter with him to Clan Taldryan’s new home system of Caelus.

He had never braved Karufr, as there was no love lost between the two Clans. And he felt the old scar between his shoulders blades have a panthom itch from his ill-fated duel with Benevolent Taldrya. He had been a young Equite against an Elder, but he’d lived somehow.

But, times were changing. The Brotherhood was changing. And he was now in charge of the very-public face of that change as Exarch. So, he had been convinced, against all of his concerns and survival instincts, to pay a visit to a populated area that had become popular and was considered an open invitation. Arconans and other Clan members would be there, too, so the risk profile was smaller.

Also, they had sweet rice flour dumplings, which were one of Kirra’s favorite desserts. She had become quite the connoisseur of cookies, but was starting to now branch out to the other wonderful world of dessert foods.

His ship, the Encanis II was parked safely. He knew that if things went south, he at least had an out thanks to the ships propietary cloaking system. Worth the investment, he felt, but also Alethia had gotten the same Star Courier special edition model so it seemed like a safe bet at least.

The city lights were fully out as the sky had fallen to night. Walking beside the Hapan, hand gripping his, his daughter looked around with wonder in her mismatched eyes.

“Papa, look at all the lights!”

Marick nodded, as the two approached the entrance to Night Market, he couldn’t help but take in the details of the surroundings. He took note of who was watching or not watching them, and set his bearings.

“They are lovely, yes. What would you like to see first?” he asked down at her.

“Dessert!” she replied almost immediately.

The last morsel slid off of the skewer cleanly, the spice profile a good balance between flavor and heat. The ‘ebi’, they called them ‘shrimp’ here, were delicate and tender, but the spice coating was decidedly otherwise, in a good way. The peppers that they used were familiar and yet not, the floral undertones sweeter, more fragrant somehow. Muz made a mental note to ask Erinyes about them. They’d go quite well with a few of the dishes he was already fond of. Tossing the skewer into a nearby bin, he exhaled. The roasted meat, noodle soups, dumplings, skewers… After what felt like a few hours of constant grazing, he was ready to walk some of it off. He still hadn’t found those little candies he thought might have come from here, but maybe they’d be found during a wider path around the expo.

He stopped, watching the crowd move between the stalls, the gentle murmur of enjoyment in between the hawkers enticing people when the smells didn’t do enough. The tenor was different now, the system’s star setting into the horizon, shadows growing longer by the moment. He let his senses dance along the periphery, checking on Leena. She was still there, still whole, a fair bit more relaxed in ways that he assumed came from some manner of alcohol or other. She was right. He had been sending her to get socialized but had neglected doing so himself.

Old friends, new faces, good food. Not much to complain about there, even with the occasional political posturing. He half chuckled at the thought, recalling how much worse it used to be, trying to herd the clans into a peace. A peace that it seemed was more in reach now than it had ever been, even without the desperate threat that he thought he would need to become to force it. The irony was not lost on him, standing on a street in Taldryan space a decade later as a welcomed guest with a full belly. He straightened his back, turning his head to see who was leaving the skewer stall with him.

As if by some miracle of the Force, two adult males, one a young Zabrak donning what appeared to be Jedi armor, the other a Chiss wearing elite Taldryanite battle armor strolled past. The former held the biggest smile on his face. The reason? He was off-shift jow and finally had a ice cream cone in his hand that he could enjoy. An ice cream that could be seen by the little six year old girl.

“Draca, I did not purchase an ice cream for you so you could gawk at it,” Anders stated. He himself was ticking into to some delicacy they had passed by on the way there. A spongey treat from the Kasiya Cake Consortium.

“Anders, I have been waiting all day for this,” Draca licked his lips. “I wanna savour it.”

“You are lucky it is cold outside,” Anders rolled his eyes. The boy would turn into ice cream if he could.

A crimson skinned man strolled through the market, loudly slurping from a thick straw. His eyebrows flit upward repeatedly as dark objects shot up into his mouth faintly visible through the tinted material. Then he began to…well, chew. It was a drink that he was chewing.

“It’s like a reward,” Nejj muttered to himself as he enjoyed the bubble tea. His golden eyes tracked the movement around him and he began humming to himself. The man embodied ‘not a care in the world’ and carried himself lackadaisically, as always.

Kasiya was a new destination for the Zeltron, having no previous reason to be there. But food, you know? And drink! Those happened to be two of the top most reasons to be anywhere. That alone was reason enough, was it not?

Marick nodded once, and then immediately clocked a pair of Taldryanites approaching from his flank. He quickly identified the Chiss, who was immediately recognizable as Zendo'ande'rson, common name: ‘Anders’. Golden Envoys were becoming more common, which meant Marick was doing his job well. Anders did good work.

Beside him was a young but tall Zabrak. Marick blinked once as he accessed them. The tribal markings seemed familiar to the Iridonian’s he’d known. Adding what he knew about Anders, and other files, this must have been Draca Zul. Interesting.

His attention shifted as he noticed Kirra looking up enviously at the ice cream cone the Zabrak was holding and enjoying feverently.

“Anders,” Marick called out, his voice low and monotous, but at a level that wouldn’t seem too jarring or alarming. He raised a hand politely in a gesture of greeting. “Would you mind pointing us in the direction of where I could also procure this ice cream your comrade has? It’s for my daughter.”

Kirra let go of her fathers hand, gripped the edges of her long dress, and bowed slightly with a small curtsey. “Pease and carrots!” she said brightly, but then seemed to catch herself as she caught her fathers faint narrowing of his eyes. “If you could be so kind,” she curtseyed once more and flashed a bright smile.

“Exarch Tyris,” Anders gave a light bow in greeting.

The Exarch was here? Was he among the many Arconans that were shuttled here by Ruka? Or did he arrive in his own personal craft? Anders had to admire the Star Courier. After all, he had one of his own.

Still, having the Exarch on Kasiya meant proper decorum, presentation and manners were necessary.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance once again. Of course we ca-”

Anders was interrupted when Draca knelt down in front of Kirra. He held out his ice cream to her.

“Here you go. You can have it if you want?” Draca looked to Marick. “If that’s OK with you, sir?”

Nejj continued to hum and chew, moving from place to place. Every now and then he would just stop and stare uncomfortably—not for him—at others already deep in conversation. He’d quietly chew on his drink while nodding along before SQUIRREL! and then he was off to the next group.

Circling.

Closer.

Slow at first. Closer. Closer. A steady gait, rising like a wave from the deep.

Closer.

Faster now. The beginning of a crescendo. Closer. Closer!

Blood in the water.

A veritable feast.

Closerclosercloser.

“RAAAWHR!”

Coming up behind Marick (not very stealthily at all, as she had been going, “dun nuh…duh nuh…duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh DUH!” the whole approach), a silver-curled woman sprang up and pretended to chomp on him. Then she held close the baby in her hands, who, mimicking her, went aahw with his little mouth with barely one tooth poking through the top and “nommed” towards Marick too.

“Gotcha! Rawrwwarwarwar eated Papa, yes! Who’s a good baby shark? Yes you are, Weyne. Kirra, baby, are we making ice creams and stealing friends? Very good, dear, I’m so proud of you! Anders, hullo. And Draca! Have you tried wedding cake ice cream? I recommend it highly–”

“Buh,” contributed Weyne, who was bundled up toe to top in a fuzzy gray and white onesie, with a hood and thick boots and mittens and a hat, under which his tiny pointed ears wiggled and his bi-colored hair was hidden. Atyiru herself wore a lovely scarf, quite long, trailing all down to her feet like her hair – now mid back – once had.

<@189568236201705472> <@837236610684813342>

Despite having attended Taldryan’s Life Day celebration last year it was still unsettling being back in their space. They had welcomed Socorra with open arms, and for a while that was even worse. The unseen blade… Even while no longer Arconae, old habits die hard.

But Appius had warmed her to the idea of a warmer climate, as had his daughter, whose long, bright shawl the woman boldly wore today over finely crafted beskar; one of two non combat, non investment material things the woman owned. The other was a Valentine from Kirra. Both gifts she would die retrieving in a fire.

Socorra tucked the fabric partially beneath her raven and white waist-length mane before leaving the ship, sword and dagger visible but sheathed, the rest hidden in a plethora of concealed holsters. While the woman moved as silent as a temple mouse, the shawl color flamboyantly more than made up for the noise.

The closer to the market she came the more the Elder realized through all the familiar Force signatures that it wasn’t Taldryanites that were going to make this visit awkward. Not at all.

Kark.

Kirra giggled at her mothers display, bouncing from one foot to the other in place. “I did not want to impose, but the ice cream does look delicious.” She shuffled over and tickled Weyne’s belly. “Cutest brother shark,” she comment with pride.

Marick just stood there, blinked a few times, and then gently lowered his hand towards Weyne, who took one of his fingers and shook it. A faint smile as he studied his wife, took solace in the fact that she had let someone pick out matching colored clothes to wear for once, and then shifted his attention back to Anders, smiling slipping back into a composed, neutral expression.

Atyiru beamed back, her starlight freckled sepia cheeks and the tips of her pointed ears rosey in the cool night. She seemed pleased as a yam that Kirra was showing off her brother, like always.

“I do love ice cream myself. Had some blue raspberry orange cream mustard chocolate birthday…um…and several other flavors…once! Lots of bowls of it. Lucine kept giving me more. Lovely party. Great wedding.”

As if summoned by the very idea of awkward and painful social interaction, a scarred Mirialan walked between two stalls, flanked a few paces back by what a former spymaster’s eye (eyes? Did she get the cybernetic one and an arm? Help?) would immediately recognize as person security to the Shadow Scion himself.

She should have known, as she once held that position and watched Ruka climb up to very high places and scream into his hands where no one could hear him. The cheater.

She of course also saw the moment he sensed her. His head snapped around, always-searching eyes homing in like thrown daggers from his mind.

If either of them hoped he wouldn’t come over, they were both disappointed. The Proconsul said something to his entourage, then approached. Ruka stopped several feet away, and offered a formal quarter bow with head still up, gaze fixed, hand on his sapphire sword’s hilt.

“Proconsul,” he said.

One could make the argument that the two in front of them were Arcona’s premier power couple. First, you had Marick Tyris. Former Voice of the Brotherhood under Pravus and Cantor, now tbe current Exarch and remarkable with his strength in the Force.

Then there was her. Anders had read the documents pertaining to the events surrounding Atyiru’s resurrection into the mortal plane, and even then there were parts he scarcely could not comprehend.

What most Sith wouldn’t do to find out Atyiru’s secret. She did not return unscathed, but she did return. Luckily, Anders was not like most Sith and he wasn’t about to earn tbe ire of one of his superiors and his wife, especially when they were both notoriously powerful Arconae.

“I have!” Draca answered Atyiru with a big smile. “Have you ever tasted a rainbow? Because that’s what I thought when I tried it. So many colours and flavours…”

“Regardless,” Anders interrupted before Draca could go on yet another tirade about ice cream. If Seraine or Cassandra couldn’t be bothered to greet arriving guests, then Anders supposed he’d have to do it. “We welcome you both to Port Kasiya. I trust your trip here was uneventful?”

<@189568236201705472>

Muz glanced at the Zeltron, one eyebrow sliding to down as the other moved up a degree. The scarring of his sclera all those many years ago made it difficult for some to read his preferred communication, but she could tell. Words were often meaningless, inconsequential and yet prolific. Muz had lost the taste for honeyed lies and bitter compliments decades ago, and he had no reason or need to indulge in them any more. He would much rather let his actions, his expressions do his talking for him. And when need arose to share his thoughts, well…he’d rather do that quite directly and literally.

He had been told that it was disconcerting at best, those who had been around his family and him. Utter silence for hours at a time until it abruptly wasn’t. To confound matters, he had gotten into the habit for the last decade, and now had to make a conscious effort to not speak directly into other minds. Efficiency wasn’t an invited element to social grace, he supposed.

The Force sang to him as he quieted his mind, the melodies of specifc patterns, some he recognized and some he did not. His Herald was here, somewhere. Was it a thread of anxiety or annoyance woven in between her notes? Another Arconan, a familiar leitmotif from the campaign against them, before Korriban. There was a lightness there, but with something more anchored in depths beyond it. The Chiss from before had a similar lightness, but the music was tight, constrained by a constant almost forced chord. Their songs swirled, the melodies seeping together to harmonize in some cases, to clash discordantly with others still. He paused, letting a deep breath out and looking at the Proconsul.

“Just enjoying the concert.”

<@189568236201705472> <@141239709291511808> <@837236610684813342>

As usual, Jemel stood with his arms folded behind his back, watching in silence as his Proconsul approached the human dressed in Mandalorian armor. Shortly before his order for he and Evelyn to remain behind for a time, he’d mentioned to him that this was Socorra Tenebrosa Erinos, a former Arconan and spymaster of the clan. The Mirialan’s truncated explanation and tense body language when addressing the woman suggested that the two shared history with one another. He’d have to comb through the clan’s records later to better familiarize himself with the interpersonal connections of its oldest members. Public records would only get him so far, of course, but it would certainly help him feel less in the dark about all these people he was seeing for the first time.

After briefly exchanging glances with Evelyn, he returned to watching his Proconsul and anyone else near him from afar.

Ankira was strolling the lines between the stalls as well, buying food and drinks here and there she could enjoy later. She had heard from Aylin that there was some good spicey food to be found here as well.

To those with a watchful eye, they could see that she changed the lines on her armour from being solid red to have an outline of grey on her pure white armour plates. She had Aylin help her with the change so that they would be nice and clean lines.

DarkHawk was very much appreciative of the invite from <@645466919415054357> to the expo. Their time within the CoJ formed a solid rapport between the two Summiters. He made a mental note to thank her personally when he saw her. Sitting quietly by the waterfront he enjoyed a pint and some steaming hot skewers of meat, seafood and vegetables.

There were a lot of familiar faces here and some new faces to the assassin. He did notice He did notice a male Zeltron <@185936112441622529> taking in some bubble tea. DarkHawk’s attention moved to his left as he noticed the Exarch Marick Tyris <@189568236201705472> speaking with others.

On the other side of the courtyard DarkHawk could see the purple trimmed overcoat of the Lion <@284848346672136192>, billowing in the breeze. He was enjoying the eats and scenery as well. Leena, the Lion’s envoy, had just brought a round of fresh drinks to their table and scooted off on her own.

The sound of water rippling across rocks and the steady flow of its movement was pleasing to the ear. The occasional fish breaching for food echoed throughout the vicinity. Younglings tossed feed in the water from the banks to draw the fish in closer. The horizon became a canvas of vibrant colors as the sun settled and night began to drown the landscape in darkness.

After finishing his meal, DarkHawk decided it was time to get up and explore what the expo had to offer. “I wonder if there is a smoke shop here?” he asked himself.

Nejj’s loud slurp became the tell-tale sign of ‘empty’ with a frown. His eyes narrowed.

Disappointing.

He found the nearest trash receptacle and did a spin, tossing the container over his shoulder and hearing the sound of victory in its wake. Oh yeah, everything was coming up Nejj.

With that out of the way, he returned to observing the vagrants, merchants, trailblazers, and uppity-types around him. Even if his stomach was grumbling audibly. Betrayal! The Zeltron gripped his stomach with a glare at the offending organ.

“Easy going, yes, thank you,” Marick replied easily. If he was bothered by his wife’s excited exchange with Draca, it did not register on his calmly stoic.

He paused, registering a presense he had come to be keenly aware of for his introduction into not just the Brotherhood, but Arcona’s leadership. Echoes of the Dark Crusade flitted through his mind, as the familiar presence coalesed.

Ashen

He didn’t tense. Visibly, at least. Knowledge was power and Marick was no longer a bright eyed equite and Quaestor charging the field at New Tython. The victory had been grand, but the cost…the day that everything changed. Sashar and Zandro’s passing as the orbital bombardment concluded while The Lion of Tarthos closed out his business…the day that Marick was no longer a soldier of Arcona, but its so called future.

No, he had grown since then. Served on the Council, and flown just high enough to truly comprehend the power that a Lord of the Sith wielded, despite never being offered it for himself.

In the power of that Knowledge, he centered himself, letting the feelings of trepidation pass.

Journey before destination.

He didn’t need to look over at Atyriu to know that the thoughts were from her. Words were wind, but that sentiment, those words had helped him push through the darkness. She squeezed his hand despite keeping her hold on Weyne and her attention fully on the conversation. An absent gesture, but one that strengthened him in ways he had always failed to put to words.

[Meanwhile, still in a very nice Arretean bush]

Stiffly, painfully, a hand lifted and kept rhythmically petting over a stripped mott’s back, covered by a cloak. The cold was getting deeper now that the sun had set, but it was somehow not dark. There were lights everywhere, they could s then through the gaps in the leaves. But they were not the red eyes from above. They were golden, and twinkled.

Fairies, surely.

He shivered, barely. Everything was very stiff and his joints all ached very much and very deeply but that was fine. It was only the cold. And as he had not stopped shivering, he was not in critical danger of hypothermia.

If anything, he worried for Alk. Even though the mott had thicker hide than his skin, he was still a juvenile, and what if he was cold? He had no fur. Yes, they should get him his own cloak too. The world had so many things. Would they have mott cloaks? He would have to ask Hunyi or Kerissa.

Rue hoped the crowds would thin soon. He’d been waiting for hours, but the markets were still busy. So many people and things. If it was much longer, he decided, he would brave them regardless to find Hunyi and get Alk back into proper warmth.

And it would be nice. To also be warm.

And maybe a …snack?

Alk made a snuffling snore, having been content to sit with the hybrid in his hiding place instead of running about. That was nice. Rue had hoped very hard that they could stay to hide. But now it was cold, so…

His cramped hand lifted, stopping scratches and pushing down the bough of one thin, springy branch. Gold eyes peeked out past a few leaves.

And he gasped.

The lights were so beautiful.

Some people walked by, eating and talking, carrying bags from merchants (he was not allowed to buy just anything anymore, after the time on the Oval). He shied back, dropping the branch. It sprung and swayed back into place.

A bit longer. Then they’d go.

DarkHawk raised his mug towards the Zeltron <@645466919415054357> adding a big grin to his gesture.

The ale was strong and flavorful. Tasting the hints of charred whiskey from being a barrel-aged ale, was incredibly tasteful. He debated about heading back to the vendor to talk about procuring a barrel or two.

Off in the distance he could hear the soft notes of a Kloo Horn being played. Finishing off his last bit of dinner, DarkHawk got up and began walking towards the musical source.

The crowds of the expo had increased greatly since he arrived. It was nearly shoulder to shoulder as the Shaevalian maneuvered through the crowded expo.

“Really could have used an event, to be quite honest with you,” Atyiru commented, her hand snug with Marick’s, words and wind and water. Life and death. Strength and weakness. “Have you considered a Maw? Dajorra’s just a hop skip away, pop in for a cuppa, bit of a black hole or sixteen makes it exciting! Like a ride. Only nobody lets me drive. How am I going to teach Kirra, I tell you? Maybe we’ll take a star whale. Anyhooziles, Andy, Erin and Cassie have already greeted us, it just hasn’t happened yet! So don’t worry so much! Your face will get stuck like that, you know. Draca!”

She turned to the boy, with all the energy of a manka about to pounce.

“Do you like rainbows? You should see my lightsaber! She is quite chromatic. I know because everyone always goes, ‘my eyes, my eyes’ when I activate it. Also because multi wavelength spectrum plasma tastes very distinct. Bit like eating that ice cream. One flavor after another, right on your ear!”

- “Papa,” Kirra began, very seriously. Her eyes sparkled up at him. “I think we should get every ice cream. Two in fact. For Weyne and I. For….symmetry.”

<@189568236201705472>

Marick glanced down at his daughter, and was almost… annoyed with how easily her choice of wording was working him. He was aware of it. Yet, as he looked at the sparkle in her two different colored eyes, one a reflection of his own, the other a unique mysticism, any resistance the fabled Assassin had wilted away. “Of course you can have two, as would be proper,” he replied calmly.

He looked around. “Where is the best vendor?” he asked.

A waft of spicey food passed the Mandalorian in white armour. Her eyes lit up and as if hipnotised she went after the smell. It reminded her of home and by the smell alone it would have enough spice in it to burn a hole in your stomach. When she finally got to the stall an old lady was tending to the food.

“Can I have a huge bowl of that delicious stew?”

The lady looked up and gave out a soft chuckle, “Of course, seems only your kind favours stews this spicey.”

“It makes you feel alive,” Ankira replied with a chuckle.

The lady got out one of her bowls and scooped the stew into it. “Here you go.”

Ankira traded the credits with the bowl and thanked the lady. Now she had to find a space she could eat it before it would get cold.

Atyiru spoke a lot. It would be quite easy to get lost in her ramblings. Yet, if you listened carefully, everything was connected.

Rainbow ice cream to rainbow lightsabers.

Wait.

WAIT.

“Did you just say rainbow lightsaber!?” Draca’s mouth widened in astonishment. “I thought those were just myths and legends!”

“They are,” Anders confirmed with a small nod. “Even legends have some degree of truth to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

Anders shrugged. “You never inquired.”

Draca gave him a squinty-eyed glare before turning back to Atyiru. “Ma'am, can I see your lightsaber please?”

Anders pinched the bridge of his nose. “My apologies, Exarch. We will proceed to the ice cream vendor once my protégé here is done gawking.”

“Hey!” Draca protested.

<@244244163002892288>

Atyiru laughed, like bell chimes and tinkling ice, her head tossing back. The lines of light on her arms and legs glowed with happy light, bare feet peeking out from underneath her snow crystal skirt.

“Of course, of course!” She giggles, then smiled, and reached out towards Anders in a booping motion (without actually touching him). “Oh silly Andy pants. You should believe more myths and try talking to a legend or two. They’re quite delighted to be asked, you know. Gets lonely, no one believing in you, all that time in ancient forests and ageless mountaintops. Tsk tsk.” She turned to Draca, and then did boop is nose. “Her name is Seraphim. She is very young and very old and the very kind and the very last of her kind. Wouldn’t mind friends. A sister or two. You should get on that. Believe hard enough! Love. Love is the key.”

So said, she wagged a finger at Kirra, who dutifully stepped back with her father, and took his hand, as was proper while mother wasn’t holding it. She was supposed to stand clear with lightsabers, and only practice with a training one. Weyne just sucked on his finger, carried on Atyiru’s chest.

From her skirts came a beautiful shaft, a swirling shape of carved horn, or gold, or perhaps a starbird’s bones, who knew. Golden wings, a multitude of them, soared open on each end. And a tiny blue ribbon tied on one side. The Miraluka held it out, then pressed the button.

Two beams of brilliant light burst from either side, a bell peal paean singing into the crystal night. All along each length of the staff, the plasma was indeed rainbow, segments of one color fading into another into another and back again.

Still off in his own little world, Nejj did glorious battle with his hunger pangs. The Zeltron hopped from foot to foot whilst waiting in line, his boots tapping loudly.

He wanted a skewer something fierce. Already, the spices assaulted his nostrils. He bet they were juicy too. Succulent morsels just waiting for—and there’s the sold out sign.

Son of a bantha.

“Disappointing!” Nejj exclaimed with dramatic flair.

Andy pants?

Andy pants?

Andy.

Pants.

Anders sighedcand pinched the bridge of his nose. What was it with people today not showing a proper lack of respect or decorum.

“My name is Anders, or Anderson if you prefer, Lady Arconae. Not Andy Pants,” he said the last two words through gritted teeth. “Please, I request that you respectfully use it.”

Draca, meanwhile, was transfixed on the weapon itself. He loved the multiple colours that flashed that decorations on a dark night, the glow and hum took his breath away.

Love?

That was the answer?

What was that supposed to mean?

Anders was more like a parental figure than anything else. Then there was…

Melissa?

Yet, their relationship was still you g. He liked her. Really liked her. His hearts bounced in tandem just at the thought of her, but if he told her that, she’d might run to Wild Space.

“Ma'am, may I ask what you mean?” Draca asked, rubbing his nose where she had booped here.

Little did Anders realize, Cassandra was standing nearby holding a glass of her favorite blue colored wine, suddenly laughing hysterically. The two white robed guards behind her stood silent like statues, as usual. “Andy Pants! Bwahahahaha! That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, definitely needed it after the chaos that was earlier today. Well done, Atyiru! Well done.” <@244244163002892288>

“Hi Cassie!” Atyiru yelled with a cheery wave from the hand that wasn’t holding a six foot staff of plasma. Then she turned back to Anders. “See now? Greeted. They’re doing their jobs, don’t be so sour about decorum. You know in some cultures your idea of it is rude! Not very effective, Anders, to go about thinking only your way is proper. That’s for lettuces.”

The woman smiled secretly back to Draca.

“You’ll figure it out, dear heart. It’s not necessarily a specific type of love in that common sense, as for Anders here, or Miss Melissa. Though the different loves we hold for people can be very powerful indeed. It’s more than that, and all of that. It is. Listen for it. Do you know the name of the wind? Of the stone we walk on? Have you ever asked their stories? Do you hear the Dark, as you do the Light? Life, and Death? Not know of it. Not sense of. But listen. And love.” Her ears wiggled, and her smile was a sad and joyous thing at once. “You’ll get there, I think, if you try. Your heart is a very good one, I can tell. You have a lot of love in you.” <@61385159655559168>

“Exactly what Attykins said, Andy Pants.” Cassandra said with a smile as she sipped from her glass. “Gotta relax a little, its not like I want to kill you anymore after that stunt you pulled.”

The shock of white locks that always hung down in Socorra’s face, hiding her missing eye, was braided intricately and pulled back with a wild litany of other braids, revealing two eyes that stared back at Ruka. The new cybernetic one was a slightly more green of the natural arctic blue and both were strikingly intense against her dark skin. The incisions from the surgery, as fine and masterful as they were, had produced runes out of the scars. Not that it was unexpected; even when done the Arconae tattoo had immediately become unrecognizable and Sith gibberish. Every new mark did.

The Mirialan knew it had taken something profound to get the woman to finally accept an eye after all these years. The shoddy arm had been unauthorized and done while already unconscious after the war–that doctor had mysteriously gone missing. Along with the eye this replacement appeared to be a shiny brand new state of the art upgrade.

Socorra also slightly bowed, pale eyes to violet, hand to hilt, warrior to warrior. Her dark brows furrowed suddenly and she looked away into the middle distance behind him.

I found one, her mental thought crossed the market to reach Ashen without preamble. A fragment of a memory in one of the timelines. I…hugged Ruka. It was very odd. Are you just going door to door sampling wine? It is a little amusing.

Her stare came back a split second later.

“Proconsul,” she repeated. The irony of Ruka’s gesture was not lost on Socorra, creeping ever so slightly at the corners of her ruby lips.

“Your new guard suck,” she said. Her stare darted to the unit as it scrambled to catch up to the Master.

I could have killed him or something worse by now. Apologize to the Scion for the misstep. <@244244163002892288> <@284848346672136192>

Marick stood, still as stone. Still enough that if he really concentrated enough, he could dissapear from view without even needing the Force. He was about to apologize for Atyiru’s casual use of a calling name (not a true Name, thankfully) to the Taldryanite, but was cut off before he could get the words out. So he stood there, holding Kirra’s hand, but clearly reverting to a very defensive mindset of on-guard hyper-vigilance of everything happening around him.

Cassandra gave a glance over to the Exarch, immediately going against what she had just said as she bowed her head forward. “Oh, apologies Exarch Marick. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Cassandra Oriana Tyris, Consul of Clan Taldryan and Supreme Chancellor of the Taldryan Republic.”

Her last name escaped her lips without a second thought, almost as if she had no clue of what Marick’s last name was. The irony that should have been there had she have, didn’t exist at all.

“Decorum is what separates us from those with the abhorrent behaviour of mindless beasts.”

Not that Atyiru would understand that. To Anders, she was a mere shell of her former self. Whatever happened in the aftermath of her resurrection had left her requiring an obscene amount of cybernetics.

Still, the Exarch seemed happy, so that was something.

“I do not believe my way is the only way, it is simply my way. I do apologise if it does come across that way. I am sure your husband can confirm my particular method of articulation,” Anders then turned to Cassandra with a knowing smirk. “I do a lot of things, Cassandra. You will have to be more specific.”

“Force alive…” Draca face-palmed. “Anders, what have you done this time?”

<@61385159655559168> <@189568236201705472> <@244244163002892288>

She kept her attention on the Exarch, but made a brief side-handed comment that knew would make Draca furious. “Oh, hacked the internal mainframe in the senate and inserted himself as the sole candidate for Vice-Chancellor having removed the other three, and was overwhelmingly approved as they thought the request was from me.”

Draca looked at Cassandra, blinked, looked at Anders and sighed.

“You know what? Its not the worst thing he’s ever done…”

It was a sound he hadn’t heard in some time. Muz tilted his head to sort out the direction, then blinked as he sorted out what it was.

Children.

He traced the sound back, dark eyes weaving through the crowd to see a lit saber, the colors shifting in ways that he recognized immediately as the product of a finely tuned Dantari crystal. There was the Chiss again, and not far from Marick and small ones that shared some of his signature. Half a smile crept up his face as he turned back, looking at the booths nearer to him. Children. Arconan children. At a Taldryan hosted event. He let the smile reach the corner of his eyes.

Leena looked at glass. Well, through it, rather. “This was blue last time. Whyzit greennow?” She slurred slightly as she turned in her seat, holding the glass up between a light and her eye. “That is green, right?” The bartender was gone, taking an order from a couple of humans at the other side of the bar. The place was hopping, and they didn’t have time for chats, not like they did in a regular cantina, anyway. The violet twi'lek sighed, facing the concourse and taking a sip as her lekku coiled, one around the other, as if it were protecting the other.

Green, blue, it didn’t much matter at this point. It was much needed social lubricant.

Memories are like glass. The Lion’s words cautioned her, filtering directly into Socorra’s head in response. They can cut when shattered.

He and <@645466919415054357> maneuvered toward a booth. The steam behind as they passed them forward to the flat top, searing the dough pockets and turning the pale skins golden brown and crispy. He tossed a few credits down. It was a safe bet: every culture across the galaxy seemed to have some sort of dumpling, and usually they were tasty and comforting. The dosh was collected quickly, a third man, younger than the others sliding them into a cash box, then handing up the food.

…and Leena is having enough wine for us both.

“I have a mighty need!!!!”

Nejj shouted at no one in particular yet everyone all the same. He blinked quickly and didn’t even look to see if he had captured anyone’s attention.

“I hunger. Nejj has creds if you have wares,” the Zeltron continued. “And the ancient masters once said, waste not want not.”

“Rigging elections is frowned upon,” Atyiru tsked and deactivated her saber. She twirled away and back to Marick’s side, wrapping both arms around one of his that Kirra didn’t hold and letting Weyne hook a hand on his coat, as if his whole family were bracing him against the world. “You ought to try running fair and square. How about to that ice cream shop? Go on now! I’ll start the count. One…two…three…go!”

When Anders didn’t take off running, she tsked at him again.

“See now that’s not very fun. Also, sir, my cybernetics are hardly obscene. They feel very seen.”

<@837236610684813342> <@189568236201705472>

The Mirialan rolled his eyes. “They don’t suck, they just listen when I tell them to hang on a sec while I say hi to an old friend. Who happens to be the current Vizslan Proconsul, and former Arconae, yadda yadda…”

Ruka took a few steps closer, looking awkward as ever, like he might have offered a hug, but didn’t know where they stood on the hugging meter.

On the one hand, he was her son’s godparent.

On the other.

Like, all that everything else.

“You look good, Socorra. Is everything….kandosii?” His accent still didn’t take well to the word, but he’d practiced it a lot more since the first attempt now seasons gone.

The Zeltron’s nostrils flared, sending out a faint puff into the chilly air. His skintight lavender top left little hidden, least of all how cold he was. No…in that regard his nips betrayed him.

Movement out of the corner of his eye brought his golden gaze towards another of his kind. How fortuitous! If anyone knew where the best (and perhaps cheapest) food was, it was his hedonistic kin.

“Is that a goddess I see? Bringing salvation to this lowly being?”

His eyes were notably on the dumplings in her possession and not, well, Erinyes.

If he was suspicious before, now he had confirmation.

Atyiru was reading their mind.

“As are our private thoughts, which you do not have our express permission to be reading.”

He immediately put up his mental barriers to prevent her from further doing so.

“Ma'am, why were you reading our thoughts?” Draca asked. Anders could do it too, sure, but usually not without a reason.

What reason did Atyiru have?

<@244244163002892288>

Marick did the equivalent of a mental face-palm, a soundless groan or sigh in the form of the slow exhale of air.

“Cassandra,” Marick returned the greeting, his voice calm, his face an unreadable mask. “I am familiar with your position and titles, but it is nice to put a face to a name. This is my family, as it were-”

“Because, silly muffins! It’s rather a bit like breathing. Or feeling everything you and everyone around me feels, mhm, just so. You have to focus to stop your breathing, don’t you? Well, I don’t need to really, quite good at that, but most people do.” She smiled at both men. “But I can listen less loudly if you’d like. Wink.”

His expression and attention did not divert from the Taldryan Consul, but he did shift slightly to take a faint step forward, subtly readying his body to…step between his wife and others. He faught back against his instincts.

It’s fine

A high pitched sound passed through Nejj’s barely parted lips. Like air escaping a balloon. He hadn’t expected anything more than directions. Yet there he stood, bounty in hand, and veritable pink giving tree.

“It’s as the masters teach us, good things come to those that yell the loudest!”

That was not, in fact, what they taught. Ever. To anyone.

He wasted no time popping a dumpling into his mouth and chewing around a satisfied moan. “Truly worthy of worship,” Nejj remarked before nodding in thanks to Erinyes. “First time! I was bothering—erm—enlightening some peers in Arconan space and happened to hear talk of this place.”

[Somewhere in Dajorra Satsi felt the urge to strangle something pink.]

Cassandra took note of this as well, her own attention staying with the Exarch as she twitched her finger, lightly tugging Anders back a couple of steps telekinetically. <@837236610684813342>

For some reason, Nejj felt like there were euphemisms afoot.

“Then it does sound like you need practice,” Anders commented further but got a nudge from Draca. Anders had noticed Marick approach and felt the telekinetic tug from the Supreme Chancellor.

“Regardless, that is not a matter for here and now. Ice cream was it? My treat. I will pay,” Anders smiled coyly.

<@61385159655559168> <@189568236201705472>

“Oh a walking and talking matter! Certainly.” She beamed and made to take a big step, leg raised, but only so long as Marick did too. “You see, dear, I have had very much practice. Been a whole nothing and an everything. Yam and lettuce you know?”

Kirra Aarave-Tyris detached herself from her father, and took a bold, brazen step forward towards the Consul of Clan Taldryan. If there was any fear or trepidation on the child’s face, it would have been hard to see behind confident smile and eyes veiled by a messy crop of white bangs.

As she studied Cassandra, she seemed to be looking not directly at her, almost as if into the distance. A strange look for a child, but she did have two very unique eyes: one pale and clouded without a pupil, the other an iridescent blue like her fathers. She refocused, quickly, and made a small curtsey towards the Taldryan Consul.

“Hello Miss Casandra. I’m Kirra. You look just like Alana, which makes me your,” she pasued to calculate the correlation. “Half-niece!” she finished excitedly. “Would you like to get ice cream with us?”

Draca smiled at the scene, taking a glance up at Anders.

Even the Chiss could not deny that the family reunion was somewhat touching.

“I believe that calls for a celebration. Double the ice cream for the young lady, or shall I give her your portion, Draca?” Anders asked with a sly grin.

“Hey!” Draca protested.

Cassandra stood there for a moment all but ready to reply until Kirra’s words struck her like a bolt of force lightning. She stood there with an expression as blank as anything possible, shear confusion running rampant throughout her mind. Her head leaned slightly to the left a bit, feeling as if time had all but stopped. Finally a single word escaped her confused lips. “Huh?”

Nejj took a step back momentarily to give enough room to bow with a flourish. “Nejj Ithurinos,” he introduced himself. “Wanderer, scholar, herbalist, and sherpa of the Golden Path for all lost souls! At your service.”

He gestured around at the expo. “It’s certainly a marvel. Food is a pathway to the heart, after all. Through the stomach and right under the rib cage!”

“Did nobody tell her?” Atyiru whispered loudly.

Kirra blinked a few times, then frowned slightly. “Oh, biscuit, I did it again…” she tugged at the hem of her dress, mirroring her mother’s posture perfectly.

The Miraluka patted her daughter’s head. “Happens all the time, litlun.”

“Tell me what?” she managed to get out in a stamper. Her mind was racing at about 100 parsecs a minute as she was mentally trying to assemble what had been said. Reading her mind and understanding her mother’s name was one thing….but half-niece? It didn’t make any sense, her father had disappeared and her mother had been killed, both when she was very young before being taken in as a foundling. None of this made any sense.

“Oh biscuits. Hold that ice cream, boys, bit of a tuff, just a moment, break a block, yes.”

Taking a step forward, Atyiru reached out towards Cassandra and cupped her shoulders, completely ignoring all the pesky alarm from nearby hovering guards a bit away. She smiled to the woman. “Deep breaths, dear heart. Kirra just meant we share a relation, see? I’m afraid I don’t know a younger face, but I have a memory from Wynnie and Marick, just like this…”

She tapped into the woman’s mind more deliberately now, conveying an image which, to the Miraluka, meant nothing. Her father in law was a feeling to her, a burning, a dreadful dream she chose to love through pain upon pain. She didn’t give Cassandra those feelings. Just the face.

“This is Marick and Wyndell’s biological father. They didn’t share mothers. Much like you. But if you’d like to know more of your family, we would love to know you.”

Evelyn glanced around and admired the beauty that the lights bring when the sun set and darkness arrived. The noodles they had earlier was delicious. She remained quiet when Erinyes had received her sword and it was stunning. Amazing craftsmanship. But she wasn’t sure if she could trust Mikahail. Not right now at least. They still needed to have a small talk for her comfort.

Now was not the time.

True to her personality, she kept herself shielded, it would be noted in her body language. When Ruka requested for them to stay back, she gave him a small nod. He can always take care of himself. Stars, Evelyn wouldn’t to ever face that man in a battle. If anything was to happen, Ruka can handle himself until Jemel and Evelyn, if needed, made their way over. The hybrid watched Soccorra and Ruka. Right on cue, she glazed over to Jemel and their eyes met for a moment, she noticed that expression and she blinked. Her lip curved for a moment as she almost laughed. She gave him a nod to let him know that yes, she noticed, and then went back to looking at their surroundings.

<@1056685516441006091>

“Usually not. That’s why it’s a surprise!”

Guided by conversation and aroma, Nejj kept pace with Erinyes. The dumplings were fantastic, but kindness should be repaid twofold. At the minimum. He readied a few chits to cover whatever was at the new stall for his new Zeltron friend.

“I find people rarely know what they really want. You have to show them there’s a better way. Even if others might not agree.”

<@645466919415054357>

She slowly reached into the top of her tunic down the middle and pulled out a purple and white locket that was on the same string as a beskar pendant with the emblazoned face of a quenker upon it. She slowly opened it and turned it to Atty, showing a picture of a younger version of their father along with Alana and herself as an infant.

Words still could not escape her lips as she processed this revelation. Already from the war there was internal turmoil and trauma, having lost her closest friends and allies, but now finding out she isn’t alone anymore and has family…it was severely overwhelming, nearly to the point where one of the guard stepped forward with augmented speed and grasped her under her arms as she ever slightly started to get dizzy and slip backwards just a fraction of an inch before being grabbed.

“Lady Second,” the guard said through a modulated voice, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I-I’m fine C-37. Thank you.” she said as she focused on regaining her footing. “It’s just a lot to process and take in..”

“Whatever’s good!” he replied before continuing. “It’s not so much bothering. Well, Miss Satsi would use more colorful language but she usually is in dire need of enhancing her calm.”

The crimson man tapped his dark lips lightly, eyes narrowed in thought.

“I suspect I have terrible timing with her cycles. I have herbal remedies but alas, her fist is rather quick. But I am strong willed! And a thick skull.”

He grinned.

Jemel had to lower his head for a moment when he caught Evelyn’s reaction. Stifling a laugh of his own as much as he could left his shoulders to jump up and down for a few moments. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt for them to speak while watching their Proconsul’s surroundings, the Cladeen took a step closer so he didn’t have to raise his voice for Evelyn to hear him. Since he wasn’t a particularly skilled conversationalist by any means, Jemel decided to talk about the one thing he knew well: work.

“So, how are things over at Siren Squadron?” he asked, keeping his head forward and eyes trained on Ruka. “I don’t get much opportunity to react with AEF soldiers directly, so I’m a bit lost on the details of their work.”

“Fair is fair,” Nejj proclaimed as he paid the vendor. He eyed the skewers carefully, analyzing with all his senses before putting his tongue to the test.

“It’s rewarding though. Seeing someone become their best self. Seen anything like it, oh goddess fair?” He hearkened back to their first dialogue.

<@645466919415054357>

She more sensed what Cassie was trying to show her, though Kirra helpfully gasped and pointed, “That’s him! Oh no.” And then tutted to herself. “Sorry, pointing is rude.

Between the two, the Miraluka understood enough, and didn’t seem phased by a nearer guard. She simply stood and smiled, the twitch of her ears letting Marick know it was alright.

"There there, dear. Deep breaths. I can help you if you’d like, my breath to yours.”

<@61385159655559168> <@189568236201705472>

“That’s the trick, eh? You gotta talk to them. I love talking to people. Find out who and what they are and push them ever onward to their true happiness! It’s all unique to them.”

Nejj allowed himself a smirk. “Tea. Hallucinogenics. Any part of the plant that can induce tranquility and focus.”

“Come onn, tusk cat, we’re going to be late!”

“We’re already late, Minnie.”

“And whose fault is that?”

She looked back at him with a wink and Bril responded by playfully puffing out his cheeks. “Both of ours,” he replied while letting his gaze drift down to the cat carrier he wore atop his Lotus robes. There was a transparent dome jutting out from the front that served as a viewport for their tooka baby, who was currently gnawing at the little pink paw mittens the two of them had struggled to put on. “Femi’s, too.”

Still holding Bril’s hand, Minnie turned and leaned over to make kissy faces at the snow-colored tooka. “Beauty requires tlesue <patience>, doesn’t it, little Fik'Eeth'minta?” she cooed before turning on her heels again to continue leading her Zabrak into the expo grounds.

“Someone’s been practicing their Ul'Zabrak,” Bril noted, a hint of pride ringing true in his voice.

“I dabble,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“In more ways than one.”

“Kitty!”

The couple continued to banter with one another while venturing into the Holmes Night Market. While Minnie was content to stand a stare a while at the neon lights that reminded her of “glow nights” at the Funhouse, the rumbling in Bril’s stomach had other plans for the two of them. So, they headed in the direction of fried food so they could order something. And whatever Bril was getting, he’d make sure to order two because something told him that she’d want to nibble on whatever he ordered once he started eating it. Not to mention the perpetually peckish tooka in the carrier. How could such a small creature eat so much?

Kirra bobbed her head excitedly and smiled to show support, her sephi-like ears twitching in time with her mothers.

Marick nodded once, taking in the exchange stoically, but choosing to let Atyiru and Kirra’s talking speak for him.

A blood relation to the Consuls of Taldryan. Not something Marick would have ever considered despite literally witnesses the destruction of an entire planet to a single being.

Speaking of, he poked out through the Force to make sure Muz Ashen was still there, but also that his aura seemed to be, as the younger Arconans would say ‘Chill’.

Her resolve managed to re-bolster her mind, and the guard stepped back and took their pike from the other one as they resumed their prior position. “I’ve got this, but thank you…sister?” It was more a shock that I had not fathomed nor conceived to potentially be a thing. It’s also incredibly…calming…to know that there are others.

Anders approached Cassandra with a brisk pace in his steps. Cassandra might have braced herself for the worst. After all, when had he not done something she had disapproved of?

However, he simply placed a hand on the Epicanthix’s shoulder. “It is entirely possible there may be more you are related to out there in the wider galaxy. Take solace in this, Lady Second. Good family is hard to come by…”

There seemed to be a hint of pain to his words, though he quickly hid them, removing his hand and placing his arms behind his back.

Draca stood in front of Cassandra with open arms. Hugs make everything better, right?

At the word “sister”, Atyiru squealed and dove forward, nearly knocking Draca out of the way entirely, if one of her arms hadn’t clutched him too as she hugged Cassandra.

Hopping in place, the Miraluka kept squealing, “YAAAAY SISTER! Yes very good we’ll be the best of friends I’ll find some rocks and some paints and we can make a cake and eat it and everyone will be happy. Or just buy an ice cream cake. Whatever’s convenient! We can invite everyone! Muzzles and Erin and Doon Doon and Rukie Blankie and Socks and…” She kept listing names.

And hugging.

Marick tried to look as apologetic as possible to everyone around them.

This sudden movement shocked Cassandra, and in turn prompted her guards to begin to react before she mentally sent a signal to stand down. She pondered her words for a moment before an idea came to mind. “Speaking of paintable rocks…there are a few mines in the highlands where the kyber crystals which grow inside have caused the rocks around them to grow in the same color. We could always plan an adventure to go down into one…and…maybe eat cake…”

She gave a look to Marick, ahem, her brother, whose expression looked as if someone had just kicked his Cythraul. “Is everything alright? You look like something dreadful just happened..”

<@189568236201705472>

“That’s just Pappa’s sorry face,” Kirra not-whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “He does it a lot when mother is being…mother, hehe.”

Marick actually narrowed his eyes at his daughter.

“And that is his Kirra-no face,” she beamed.

Marick slowly craned his head up to to align back with the Consul. “Everything is fine, I just can imagine this is…a lot of information all at once. And my wife and daughter are just very excitable.”

He seemed to almost be talking to the guards as much as Cassandra, hoping that they would pick up on his calm tone, but also take moments to register who he was. The Hapan was hardly intimidating in plainclothes and a basic long coat, but the Exarch was a fairly public facing figure.

“We finished with the funeral rites for our comrades from war. Most of them were no bodies.” This brought back memory of her late wife’s funeral. When a certain pilot targeted her. Her body was never found.

“I made sure their families were taken care of. We also have new recruits and we are teaching them the ropes. Drills, plans, policies, upkeep on the ship, small things like that.” Evelyn doesn’t mind talking about work. It was easier than the weather for some reason.

“What news from DIA front? I wonder if there are going to be any changes.” Then she nodded her head where Ruka and Socorra was, “Especially since that is the former Director.”

“Sounds like you know a good time when you smell it!” Nejj was excited. The lucky encounter had turned out fortuitous. Erinyes certainly knew her way around the expo. She even seemed content at first glance. He didn’t see a need to find her Golden Path.

A voice in the back of Nejj’s head said, “don’t say it.” He ignored that voice.

He always ignored that voice.

“We’re calling it ‘tastes’ now?” He laughed at his own lacking brilliance. “But honestly, you could spend days on Zeltros never finding two of the same.”

He also smelled the tea. It did have the suspicious aroma of “good for you”. That had its place, but not on his path. His was one of Indulgence.

Atyiru finally let go, dancing back to join Marick and hopping in place, which Kirra joined her in. But gently. So at to not jostle Weyne too much. She clapped her hands.

“I would love to go into a mysterious cave and dive for rocks and eat them with you! Or something like that!” Her smile was wide. “Kirra yes!”

“When in Space Rome,” Nejj muttered to no one in particular. His eyes took in the suspicious liquid but there was no glimmer of excitement to them.

His ears almost perceptibly twitched when he heard the other Zeltron grabbing credits. “Repay kindness twofold,” he stated flatly and brought out his own credits to cover them both for the second time.

And injustice tenfold, he completed the philosophy mentally.

Nejj narrowed his eyes at Erinyes as if to say “we die together.” He refused sweetness and consumed the liquid most suspicious.

Instant regret.

Bone shattering, utterly revolting, and irredeemable regret.

Why was it dry!? Was he drinking the desert? Were the laws of physics merely a suggestion? That was what it would seem!

“Why!?” he exclaimed as he stared at the cup and what “liquid” remained. “WHAT ARE YOU? BETRAYAL!”

I may have to join in and drink for three. she sent back. Memories cannot shatter if they do not exist, right? <@284848346672136192>

Her gaze came back to the Mirialan. Mostly.

Turhaya was just a tiny little newborn last year here, wrapped and snuggled in the bright shawl and sleeping delicately on her chest. The most angelic and perfect thing she’d ever laid an eye on. The mother had always been disfigured and never seen her child with both. She thought of Ankira and searched.

Socorra listened to the cacophony of mental voices around the market, so many of them Arconan. They were loud, though not nearly as loud as normal. Either the event was early or she was expected, as several had already thrown up mental walls. Disappointing.

Turhaya’s blood relatives were there. Loud. Happy.

The Sith raised her own mental wall, made of terrifying, hateful things. Kark you, she almost sent to Anders, along with an image of one of those smiley faces. Unfortunately she could see he was too powerful now and it would consume more energy than worth.

“Of course,” Socorra replied to Ruka, unblinking, unsettling. “Always kandosii.“

“We’ll have to plan it sometime then. For now, is anyone else hungry?”

<@189568236201705472> <@837236610684813342>

Kirra bounced up and down excitedly. “Ice cream!”

Ruka seemed to realize exactly what was going on; or at least, that Socorra wasn’t really looking at him, or paying much attention to him. She was…out there. Listening, spying, getting lost. Whatever it was.

His chest clenched.

I shouldn’t’ve told her, he’d said to Cora when the Mandalorian left, inconsolable in so many more ways than they knew. They weren’t equipped. They couldn’t reach her. It was like those Sith runes that took the place of her scars, from stretch marks to tattoos, were eating her alive.

It’s not your fault, his husband had said.

Socorra would probably hear all that. Every word and thought. Some folks could keep her out. He’d never been able to. Not just for lack of skill, but they’d crossed something, between illusions and memory, those months ago. She’d always have a door into his mind. She’d ripped one open in the wall. He’d let her.

He tried to think of good things of Turi. The Clan doing well. Nothing too sensitive. Happy toddler laughter. Wyndell Tyris being weird. Not stressful things.

Funny, they both had white shocks in their hair now.

“I just wanted to say hi,” he said aloud. “Uh…so…hi. I guess.” His weight shifted. “You wanna…walk with me a little or…?”

Or are going to get drunk again?

“I was happy! Why you no?!”

He winced. No, no. Don’t think about that.

“Follow me!” Draca immediately bounced at a brisk pace, peering back to ensure the group were following him.

Or at the very least, able to see him. He wanted to get in line for ice cream as soon as possible.

Ig didn’t matter if he still had one in his hand. More ice cream was never a bad thing.

During their brief travel, Anders casually strolled by Marick’s side. “Exarch, once we have a brief moment I have a matter to discuss with you. One that may not be appropriate for younger ears.”

<@244244163002892288> <@61385159655559168>

Earlier in the evening.

Watching the port city come finally into view from the starboard side window as her Star Courier, the Nocte Drakon, descended to the landing pad, the petite Togruta breath a sigh of relief. We made it. Finally! At least we won’t be too late to watch the light show. And no matter what, I’m not taking any holocalls unless it’s an emergency. Patting Hadzuska gently, whom had lain across her legs as she had been lounging on her comfy chaise seat, urging him up so that she could finish getting ready. Stretching as she stood, Tahiri nonchalantly reached over and flipped the ships intercom on, “Ro, get cleaned up. We’ll be landing shortly, and I’m not waiting on you to head to the market.” She quickly headed off to her private quarters to get changed and find find where Zuska hid his brush this time. ———————-
Ro-Tahn cursed under his breath, sucking on where he had just pinched his finger, as his sister’s voice had pulled him out of his mental state of focusing on making the newest adjustment to his swoop speeder bike. After shaking out his hand, groaning under his breath, the tall Togruta stood up and immediately regretted not getting up and moving around sooner. As the joints in his legs popped and muscles cried a little for being constrained in one position for so long. Sighing and shaking his head, he headed to the guest quarters that she had set up for him, to prepare for the evening out.

                            --------------------------------

A little later.

She had decided to don her Envoy threads, since they were conformable, fashionable and practical. Looking at her brother, she had to giggle as he had donned a low cut tunic and vest, wondering when he was going to ask her for his cloak, as she had grabbed both of their cloaks, but had them both tightly wrapped up and attached to her belt. Making their way to the Holmes District market place, Tahiri following the directions Erinyes had sent her, the breeze wafting in from the port itself was wonderfully refreshing, even if it made the air cooler. Zuska bounded forward, chasing after Ro’s BB unit droid, Dunga, as it rolled around, chirping and beeping incessantly.

Ro laughed as he watched his droid roll around his feet, “That’s what you get for tracking oil all over my nice pants earlier.”

Tahiri shook her head, seeing the entrance to the market, she paused, sending a mental message to her vornskr to come to stop and come to her. Sighing, she squatted down and held out her hand to stop and then pat the little BB unit, taking off the strip of dried meat that had been taped to the top of his head. “Ro-Tahn, you shouldn’t do that to Dunga. Remember, he is your co-pilot,” tossing the meat to Zuska, who quickly scarfed it down, coming up to the droid and licking the top of his bobbing head.

“Eh, he’ll be fine. Besides, if we’ve done worse pranks on each other than this. Right buddy?” The little droid rolled over to his feet, looked up, giving him a bright chirp, before gently bumping into his leg and then started rolling towards the market.

“Alright, if you say so, Ro,” chuckling, she shook her head, walking towards the open market. Tilting her head up, catching the wafting scents of food, almost in unison with Hadzuska as he sniffed the air. “Now, I want to meet up with friends, have a good time, and get some great food. You gonna behave long enough for all that?” Tahiri cocked her head at her tall brother, a sly smirk on her face.

“Yeah, of course. When have I not behaved? It was always Rholar who was the trouble maker,” laughing he continued with her into the bright market.

“Uh huh, right. We both know that ain’t true,” shaking her head and laughing with him. Opening herself up a bit, she sensed several familiar people within the market, including those she was close with, those whom she’d met in passing, and many new signatures as well.

Marick nodded. “Of course,” he replied calmly.

“Just ‘Marick’ will suffice though,” he added, eyes shifting back towards the vendor booth as he took in the details of it and everything, and everyone, around it.

Nejj assumed a look of begrudging acquiescence as he held his cup to his chest. He almost didn’t want to add the contents of the new bottle. That would be an admission of defeat. And not the fun kind. But as he eyed Erinyes carefully he decided he might be better for it.

“Fine. I guess. If I have to…”

The Zeltron squeezed out some of the syrup. Then more. Keep it going. And stop.

A smidge more.

When he finally returned to the tea it was with a hesitant approach. He seemed to taste the air before finally letting the liquid pass between his lips. Understandably, he recoiled expectently but found it surprisingly pleasant. He didn’t want to, though. “Why do I like you now?” he asked quietly as he glared into the swirling cup.

“I would say, it is time for this family to take it’s leave for a bit.” Cassandra added after Ander’s statement and her new brother’s acknowledgement. She glanced to Atyiru and Kirra. “Ice cream sound good?”

<@837236610684813342> <@244244163002892288>

“Very well,” Anders acknowledged the sentiment. “I will borrow Marick for just a moment. We will not be long.”

Anders, maybe to some surprise, did not walk into a small clearing where he and Marick could talk privately.

‘Apologies for the intrusion, Marick, though I do not wish to entertain the notions of those who may be listening with eager ears.’

Draca furrowed his brows, looking to the other members of their group. He knew Anders was talking telepathically, hed seen the mannerisms before.

<@189568236201705472>

Marick made no outward sign that his attention was differentiated or that anything was out of the normal. He didn’t need to exchange a glance with Atyiru, as she wouldn’t see or be able to read his eyes, but knew she didn’t need to know that Kirra had shifted to be holding her side instead of his.

Hm? he replied.

‘You may be interested to know that the team I organised have successfully retrieved and destroyed Scimitar’s second artifact. Though, I do have some concerns. From my research into the ritual performed on Scimitar, he should have felt each soul fragment as it was destroyed and yet, there is no sign of any retaliation, no further sign of his presence.’

Ellisyn Kendis strolled through the streets of Holmes with little care in her mind, taking her time in her journey to the night market. This would be one of the final times she got to explore her district. Holmes was the place where she truly started her life on her own, away from the luxuries of Heaven and without the help of her family. She wasn’t ready to leave, but then again, who could ever be ready for such a change?

But she sure as hell wasn’t going to let her last night be a boring romp through familiar streets. She was planning on having fun talking with old acquaintances in the market and potentially meeting new friends who had decided to join the second part of Erinyes’s expo.

When the lawyer finally arrived, it seemed she wasn’t the first to arrive, to be expected when you take the scenic route. She held a smile on her face as the familiar smells of fried food and bright neon lights assaulted her senses. For someone with a nose and ears, like she had, it was quite overwhelming the first few times she had been here. But now it just felt like home.

As always, when she found herself at the market, she made a B-line towards her favorite stall. Thankfully, there wasn’t a line, so she was able to shout over without disturbing any potential customers of his “Cortado!” She shouted, her expression brightening further when she saw the vendor smile back at her. She arrived at the stand in record time, lightly slapping her palms onto the counter. “Still got rice cakes?” She asked, knowing full well that was what he specialized in.

“Yes, Elly, I still have rice cakes,” Cortado replied, already working on her usual order. “I knew someone was holding an event here, but I didn’t expect so many important people to be passing through.”

“Don’t worry, they’re all safe enough. But if people start arguing, it might be smart to duck.” She joked

“Noted.” The man said, slightly rolling his eyes. In record time, he had a disposable bowl filled with one of Elly’s favorite foods on the counter for her to take. The moment Elly tried to pull out some credits, he shook his head. “Not this time. It’s on the house. A thank you for all you’ve done. I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m not going to be gone forever. I’ll still come back from time to time, don’t worry.” Elly assured Cortado, surprised that news of her departure from Kasiya had spread so far. She gratefully took the bowl and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Mikhail had enjoyed the few hours of solitude he had after making the sword delivery. The quiet was never something that bothered him, solitude wasn’t any less than an acquaintance to him when while alone. But he intended to go back out, see what this place had to offer in more detail.

In all the planets he’s visited, it was not common for him to have downtime to do something like attend a local festival. Powered by the granule of appreciation he received earlier in the day, he would have some self confidence. At least for the night.

So to make the most of it, Mikhail ventured out again.

He found himself wandering stalls and fields once more. Despite the dark, the pale Arkanian still bore his thin rectangular dark glasses. He adjusted his high collar, subconsciously tugging it closer to the back of his neck as he wandered.

Wine.

He enjoyed the burning bitter astringency of the drink from his home. He’d heard of the wildly different types found on most civilized planets. If one thing was a universal truth, he rationalized, it was the want for temporary, controlled oblivion in every culture. Some hungered for it more than others, but they all took part.

He was no different.

He raised the small cup he purchased, a few dozen feet from the stall in a darker spot. He muttered a toast under his breath as he poured a gulp onto the earth. “к облакам, к забвению”

He then drank. The only thought besides those he toasted, was that of what he tasted.

Retuning the helmet back onto her head after she ate in solitude, she went back to the market, making sure to dispose of the bowl properly.

As she walked back between the stalls she saw a group that looked familiar, at least some of them. She kept an eye on them, but didn’t move closer just yet.

Ellisyn smiled one last time at the vendor before pushing off of his stand with her bowl in hand. Time to go see who’s around and maybe say another goodbye or two.

She walked a little slower than normal, choosing to walk and east as opposed to standing in place. She never was one for sitting still after all.

On her little stroll she spotted a familiar Arkanian and she wondered whether or not she should go and say hi again. She already bothered him once, would it really be wise to do it again?

Going against her better judgment she walked on over to Mikhail “I’m not replacing that like I did the dumplings” she said once within comfortable speaking range

He glances to the source of the voice, then down at the small puddle of wine soaking the earth. “Oh, I suppose my ruse didn’t work this time.”

After a pause, he quickly added “I’m.. joking of course.” He awkwardly swished the wine around watching it swirl around the small cup. It wasn’t the best he’d had, but perhaps taste for it develops over time. Still, it was drinkable, even if the flavor was more vibrant to his usual.

“I was not expecting to see you again. Certainly not so soon, at least.” Another awkward beat passed before “I of course do not mean that in a form of complaint.”

Why are you like this?

Elly just stood there, content to let Mikhail try and justify his quip. Elly had fully understood what he meant, but without the chance to interject all she could do was listen to him second guess himself.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you either,” she said. “Is that your first cup of vague red liquid?” She asked, trying to continue the conversation with a quip. She knew next to nothing about the man aside from the fact he hadn’t had fish and he knows a lot about blades.

“True facts,” Nejj agreed, accepted the dubious brew and finished it a little too quickly. Because reasons.

The Zeltron appraised his fellow carefully before nodding in answer to an unasked question. “You’ve shared with me much this day. The ancient masters would want me to reciprocate.”

He sighed, not quite sure how to continue, but he did focus upon what might be a misunderstanding of their prior conversation. “I never thought I’d be much of anything, you know? Youngest of six. Two brothers, three sisters. I was the family toy, yeah? Wasn’t in the cards for more.

"Never wanted to go back there. Obviously. But, should you ever need a guide around Zeltros—touch base with your ancestry and all that—all you need is to ask.”

“Heah” he made a halfhearted chortle, looking at the cup. “No, I’ve seen my share of vague red fluids.”

He frowned for a moment, but took another sip through it. “Though I doubt they’d taste as decent as this at least.” He shifted his stance so that he was facing her, opening for more of a conversation between them.

“What about you? Any other colored liquids you’d recommend trying?” His bright crystal eyes almost seemed to glow in the shadow of his face, behind those impenetrable glasses.

As if someone flipped a switch, Nejj regained his excitable aura and dropped into an exaggerated martial arts stance. “That’s right! And out here I’m a master of combat.”

He then scratched his head and grinned carelessly. “Well, if I can’t talk my way to success.”

Elly thought for a moment before an idea came to mind “There’s this one drink I really love. It’s a nice shade of yellow and sometimes has a bit of a kick to it.” She said, giving her words a couple beats to sink in before chuckling “Cider is pretty great”

One of the added benefits of being respectful meant she could examine his eyes as she made eye contact. She’d never seen any like his before, and she hoped to know why his were different before the night was complete

“…y ruse didn…*

Rue.

His head turned, gold eyes widening, shoulders hunching, grip tightening on the little horned not trunked creature taking up his lap and leaning in his chest. The chill breeze blew, rustling lights and leaves and a few strands of metallic hair across his face. He tilted his head to make them fall aside, not wanting to let go of Alk, unable to just brush them back in place otherwise.

He’d thought.

He’d thought he’d heard his name.

Kerissa? But she wasn’t here. And Hunyi could not make the sounds the same.

And.

My little Rue Flower…

That was it. There hadn’t been another soul since Grandmother. So surely he was wrong.

What person would be talking to this one besides?

But as he was looking his eyes caught a faint blue glimmer behind black squares on a face. What were those? And the tall red one. The same master and mistress as before that had fed him. Why were they back?

Why did the master pour blood on the ground? Did he mean to discard the sample?

Was he going to have to give some today? It had been so long, since he’d left that place.

Well.

Alright.

But as the masters kept speaking of the different colorations of blood samples – yellow? A high concentration of vanabin then, likely from an insectoid or echinoderm species strain. If they wanted another bright color, like that blue of the male’s eyes, they’d need copper-based blood… – he never heard an order to approach, so he stayed where he was with Alk, petting the mott. Alk snuffled. Rue gently shushed him.

"Soon,” he whispered, hunching tight to hug the young one. Once these few close by had gone, he could find Hunyi.

Oh.

Oh he could message her!

He’d forgotten about the pad again.

Knowing Hunyi would offer no punishment for that later was…disturbing. How was he going to remember otherwise.

For the moment, Rue turned to fumbling to reach the datapad, but it was in pockets on his other side, and Alk was very comfy and heavy.

Well.

That was fine.

Jemel’s lips tightened when he heard Evelyn mention her fallen comrades. It was a pain with which he was also familiar. Although he wasn’t a soldier proper, his work as a field agent in Dajorra’s intelligence service meant that he often served alongside the same people day-in, day-out. To him, few things could hope to match the strength of the bonds forged in combat; unfortunately, that meant that when a bond mate passed, it often felt as if a part of you died with them. He wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.

He chose his next words carefully, speaking with a slower, more pensive tone in response to the woman standing to his left. “I’m sorry for your loss. For their family’s loss. I hope you take some modicum of solace in knowing that their sacrifices weren’t in vain.”

They had, after all, won against the Children. One of the Brotherhood’s greatest adversaries, defeated on their own soil. The bulk of Arcona’s military had done their part to usher in a new period of peace for the system, and now it was the responsibility of people like him and those he served to ensure that that peace lasted for as long as possible.

“I’m not much of a pilot, myself. Never did take. But I wouldn’t mind coming to watch the Siren Squadron’s flight drills … if non-military personnel are allowed to observe, of course.”

Jemel glanced to Evelyn from the corner of his eye. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who liked to be informed. “Yes. I’m sure there will be quite a few changes in light of the change of leadership. I’m curious to see what kind of ship Director Lottson will run.”

He clicked his teeth. “I’m not at liberty to speak about my work in particular, but I can say a lot of the work on the analysts’ side has been combing through the intel gathered during the war. How the Ethereal Realm differs from our own, logistics reports, things of that nature.”

He blinked.

What did she say? Did she -

Surely not?

He sucked in air, almost choking on nothing. He coughed into a fist, but eased it into an awkward chuckle. “Ah uh, yeah. I’ve heard of that one. It’s supposed to be spicy, right?”

A pink hue colored the tips of his ears as he looked down at the cup he held. It wasn’t that the joke bothered him, just that He was not at all prepared for that level of joking.

Elly immediately regretted the joke, a faint silver blush coming to her cheeks as she felt nothing but pain and regret on the inside. Maybe it was for the best she was leaving. This place was a bad influence on her.

“I uh… no its sweet actually. Unless you get the alcoholic versions.” She corrected politely.“Can we… Can we ignore that I ever said that?”

He lightly waved his hand. “It’s fine, I was just.. not expecting that.” He clears his throat before speaking again. “But if you want it forgotten, it never happened.”

He swallows the rest of what was in his cup, mouth suddenly dry. “Sweet? Interesting. I will need to try some sometime.”

His finger lightly taps the tip of the cup. “I,. Do not know what Next to try here. But you seem familiar with it all”

“I live here” She said as an explanation to her familiarity. “Well… lived. But I know all the fun spots for food at lease. What are you craving? Pastry? Veggies? Meat?”

Elly was happy that the conversation had moved on but every now and then her eyes would glance to her bowl of food that was slowly getting cold

I reviewed the mission log. Concerning, indeed. I have reached out to the Headmistress to see if our researchers can cross reference or isolate similar occurrences in history. I also have a meeting with the Deputy Grand Master to discuss a few things, and was going to bring up the…concerns of this Scimitar to him as well. I agree we must remain vigilant, however, and Idris’ scouts know to keep us in the know. I will share what I learn with you and the other Golden Envoys when I know more.

Marick nodded once, then, as a sign of the conversation being over from his point of view, moved back towards his family.

“-vanilla! Papa will ask for vanilla,” Kirra was explaining to the group.

Marick opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal, but as with most things she noticed and shared, Kirra was not incorrect. So he cut off his protest and simply bowed his head to his six year old daughter’s wisdom.

He caught her longing looks at the food, relating to how he felt the last time they spoke. “Oh, well. I do not want to keep you long. Please, eat, I can wander and find things on my own should I need to. I don’t want to be a bother to you.”

He clutched the empty drink cup in both hands. The cool breeze felt nice as it ruffled through his hair, even if it wasn’t as bitting as he was used to. Even so, a warm drink could be nice. “Cider is served.. warm?”

“With sprinkles,” Atyiru whispered loudly in Draca’s direction, having one arm looped with him and one with Cassandra – whether or not either of them had been kidnapped into such a hold or were happy for it remained to be seen to the Hapan and Chiss – while Kirra strode in front of them as the tiny leader. Weyne babbled in his carrier. “For a bit of excitement, you see.”

<@61385159655559168> <@837236610684813342>

Elly quickly waved him off. “You’re not being a bother. It’s not like my foods gonna walk away” She said, wanting to stomp that idea out as soon as possible. Besides, that’s her line.

“It depends on the kind you get, but yeah. Some of it is served warm. Especially when we’re approaching the colder months like we are now. Wanna go get some?” She offered

He slowly nodded “I would. Whichever you’d recommend. I’ll follow.” He stood straight and raised his chin slightly, looking around the festival through dark shades.

Elly knew just a bit about Arkania, one of the most notable things being that it was rather cold there. But that didn’t mean Mikhail couldn’t potentially get cold “Hot cider it is” she smiled. She turned and started moving, waving for him to follow

The Mandalorian in white moved closer to the group, her curiosity gotten the better of her. Some of the signatures in her sight were different then the others and she kinda wanted to find out why without being intruding on anything. She saw Draca handling some ice-creams around and chuckled softly to herself.

Draca handed the ice creams around. Yes, indeed there were sprinkles because of course there were. This was technically, albeit a bit of a strong coincidence, family reunion of sorts. Sprinkles and celebrations practically go hand in hand together. Everyone knows that!

The last ice creams (topped with sprinkles, obviously) were handed to Weyne and of course, Kirra.

Draca then spotted a familiar Mandalorian out of the corner of his eye.

“Ankira!” Draca waved at her.

And it caught Anders’ attention.

“Ah, Miss Irr,” Anders didn’t smile, his words monotone in their delivery. “I trust you are well?”

<@189568236201705472> <@244244163002892288> <@61385159655559168>

Ankira stepped closer and nodded to them.

“I am indeed, they know how to make a proper Mandalorian meal here,” she said just as coldly as Anders did. “Also find some spices that I can use as well.”

It was at times like these that Draca wished he could just… turn the Force off. Sadly, that was not how the Force worked. The animosity between Ankira and Anders came through like a klaxon warning of imminent danger.

Draca looked back at the family beside him, then to Anders and Ankira. He had to do something to defuse the tension, but what?

“Ankira, do you fancy an ice cream?” Draca asked, hoping and praying she’d say yes.

Then, he realised he’d never seen her without her helmet off. Was she like Meshita? Did Ankira follow the way of the Mandalore too?

Oh dear…

She turned her head towards Draca. “No thank you, it won’t survive until I can eat it.”

“I am sensing some negativity,” Atyiru stage whispered to their daughter, to which Kirra nodded back very seriously while carefully licking her ice cream so that each side remained even in size, just so, like Papa did. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Yams,” Kirra said, presented with the puzzle. Weyne lightly waved his ice cream, but was already in the process of dropping it. Thankfully, Marick was already telekinetically holding it for him.

The Miralukan mother skipped over and threw open her arms, offering Ankira a hug.

“Hello, dear! Nice to meet you, I’m Atty! And I love you. You know, melted ice cream is quite good too.. It’s like cold soup! We can get you a straw and bowl. Yes? Or we’ll make a nice little person circle and block you from view! I don’t have eyes so it’s a bit cheating but that’s the fun of life, and Kirra is blind in one, so she can peek, and the boys can all turn around!”

The Mandalorian stared at the new person, not sure how to react to her at all. She flared up in her sight and is scared her a bit. Just try to act normal, she reminder herself and after an awkward silence she finally spoke.

“Uh… you mean like a milkshake? And a people circle isn’t going to help…”

“Ohh, is this one of them?”

Cole looked over to the small container Sofila was holding out, frowning at the name before looking down at the list lit up on his data pad. It matched one. He nodded after a moment, pressing the check box and holding the basket on his arm up slightly for Sofila to slip it in with the others.

He looked up once it was settled in, and unlikely to break anything else in the basket, to spot her practically bouncing on her toes as she turned, her hair almost catching him in the face. Cole followed her gaze for a moment, before commenting.

“I’ll still be here if you want to go get the candy apple now Sofila. You don’t have to wait.”

<@216702440140046336>

While everything else was going on, Marick held the ice cream cone suspended in the air with a faint effort of will, moving quickly knowing that Weyne would probably be upset at not having ice cream despite the fact that he had, in fact, tried to dispose of it on the floor. He grabbed a plastic bowl from the vendor, thanked them, and deftly moved to catch the ice cream cone in the cup.

His own ice cream cone with sprinkles remained levitating in place off to the side.

He took a little spoon and held it out towards Weyne.

“Here, try it this way,” Marick explained.

Weyne looked down at the small spoon of ice cream, back up at his father, back down to the ice cream, and then back up. He made a babbling giggle noise and flung the contents of the spoon onto Marick’s shirt.

Even an Assassins reflexes could not account for the suprising speed of the toddlers strike. Marick audibly sighed, but smiled at his son, and took out a nerf towel to wipe it away from his shirt.

He tried again, this time taking the spoon and making it move around like a starfighter. He tried to make a “vroom” noise, quietly, but it did seem to work as Weyne focused intently and then opened his mouth to receive the ice cream.

Marick grinned slightly, but then hid it away as he re-grabbed his suspended-in-air ice cream cone and ate it with one hand while holding Weyen’s cup in the other.

“All of them,” Nejj answered quickly while preening. He was grinning so much that his eyes were forced into thin lines. By the time he opened them again, Erinyes had begun her hunt for beverages. Shaking off the surprise, Nejj double-stepped to catch up to the other Zeltron.

“Partial to Sliding Hands, though.”

Nejj tapped his lips. “Fair reaction, all things considered. I assure you it’s not a pick-up line, though.”

He followed her beckons and took in the stall. Everything about it screamed “tacky”. That meant one of two things were about to happen and there could be no in-between. Either this was gonna be an amazing cocktail or he wouldn’t remember enough to care after. “Been here before?”

“Okay!” Sofila beamed as she quickly pecked on his cheek and zoomed off. She was careful and made sure not to bump or run into anyone. Where were they? She spotted it! Wasted no moment or hesitation, she waited in line while bouncing on her heels and tried to look at their menu…..

“Ma'am, you’re not going to be able to carry all this.” The merchant protested, he was happy to get the credits but by the stars, he was concern for her ability. Sofila pouted and waved him off.

“If you have any ideas, I’m all ears! But they are coming home with me. Period.” Sofila glared at the man as he sighed.

“Well, there’s a stall that’s selling homemade wagons- MA'AM” Sofila was already gone.

“Cole! I found them!” She was pulling a wagon that had the apples of different kinds safely tucked in their containers.

“They had SO many different flavors and apples so I got one of each, figured we can share half! They even have some really weird spicy ones like blackberry jalapeno caramel, spicy chili apple, pecan bacon caramel apple, white chocolate apple, pumpkin spiced caramel apple- Cole! I even got some popular covered candied ones!”

Ellisyn and Mikhail walked through the market together in silence while Elly took the chance to eat at least some of her food before it got too cold. She swallowed down a rather large bite before craning her neck to look at her Arkanian companion.

“So you’re from Arkania?” She asked. Her curiosity about his eyes was beginning to eat at her, and she thought his history would be a good start. “What was it like there?” <@160141735354171394>

Cole had spent the time working on his list, buying the spices he’d already gotten while he continued searching. He’d gotten most of them but now he’d seen all the ones available, his attention was captured in what each one was and what effect it’d have on a dish. He considered walking off to find Sofila part way through that second journey, but thought better of it. Knowing Sof, he’d be following her for ten minutes before he caught up to finally meet with her as she searched for him.

And then there was a wagon.

“…Oh.”

He looked into the wagon, before slowly meeting Sofila’s eyes, “How.. long do we have to eat these Sofila?”

“That’s the best part!” Sofila grinned as she clasped her hands together, “The guy said if they go home by tonight or tomorrow, we can put them in little baggies, get the air out as much as possible and can freeze them! We can enjoy this for as loooooong as we want!”

Then she smirked, “But I’m down to devour them in a few days.”

Once the spicy banana-pepper combo had acquired a myriad of tasty snacks, enough for themselves and for their tooka baby, they decided to stroll around the expo grounds while eating. Bril left the zipper of the carrier open so Femi could poke out her head in anticipation of the next piece of a grilled nerf skewer he was holding. Minnie was humming happily while nomming on a whole fried Dreeka fish while they walked with their arms looped around one another.

Since their last discussion, as trying as it was at times, things had been even better between them. He didn’t have to restrain his senses as much around her, now, leaving their bond to thrum a bit more vibrantly when they were together. The feelings of the night? Safety and contentment, like the cloak Bril had elected to clip around Minnie’s shoulders when she mentioned how cold it was on Kasiya. Although they both came from planets with warmer climates, he surmised that Zabrak core body temperatures tended to be higher on average than Nautolans due to their elevated metabolisms.

“It’s so nice to be able to just enjoy ourselves and not worry about … well, all the things,” noted Minnie while waving the fried Dreeka in front of Bril’s face.

Well aware that that was her way of offering him a piece, he bit a piece off and savored the spices and fish therein. He nodded in agreement. “Agreed. We should take more time for ourselves.”

Neither of them were strangers, necessarily, to enjoying themselves. Between Bril’s studies and Brotherhood obligations and Minnie’s work and familial obligations, the two of them likely would have unraveled a long time ago if they were. But he figured there was more room for more rest and relaxation following the war’s culmination. Perhaps another trip was in order? Albeit one that was shorter and more focused than the one she’d accompanied him on. He’d have to poke Foxen’s black box of a brain for information on her favorite places around Selen and perhaps even other places they’d been the next time he saw him, especially if he wanted to surprise her.

While he continued to muse, Minnie turned her head to their left and squealed when she saw a familiar face. And without missing a beat, she shouted more than loud enough for the large Firrerreo and the spectacle-wearing man accompanying her to hear.

“ELLYBELLE! Haaaay, chicka! It’s Minnie and Bril! Get over here! And who’s your friend, girl?!”

Here comes the drag.

And right on cue, Bril’s Nautolan started to tug against him, pulling him using their linked arms in the direction of one of her newest friends. He noticed that she narrowed her eyes at him just before doing so, making him smile sheepishly in kind while questioning whether he’d been as careful as he thought he was about not letting that particular thought drift across their bond.

As they approached Elly and Mikhail, passing by another collection of stalls with vendors eager to sell their wares to passersby, Bril began picking up a number of different signatures in the Force. Most were unfamiliar to him, but he was able to discern a few of them, such as Mister Ruka and M-Dawg, but none were as familiar to him than his very own godmother. His eyes shot in that direction, and he focused for a moment while Minnie continued leading them, reaching out through the Force to amplify his own signature so Tahiri could sense his presence shining like a lighthouse through the fog of dozens of others. The young Zabrak hadn’t seen her since he left Plagueis; it’d been too long.

Evelyn remain unexpressive. She knew the risks and dangers of the job. They still hurt but it was part of it. Constantly, she wished it was her. Jax and Kob had each other. Minnie had her family and apparently a new boyfriend who she hasn’t met yet. Her squad had others.

“Thank you.”

Evelyn gave him a small smile when he talked about wanting to see their drills. “If you rather, you could ride with one of us.” Evelyn loved piloting. There was even talk about removing some tricks that Evelyn and countless other pilots had proven that the so called ‘tricks’ had saved lives.

Evelyn had no reaction on hearing Zuza’s name. She already had her talk and did her bit, now it was up for Zuza to take care of herself. She was a grown ass woman.

“Amazing how that works,” Evelyn started. “I would not want your job. It is not me. But right people at right jobs, you can really tell with the passion behind it. The way they talk. Just like you did.”

“I think freezing a few sounds like a great idea for your arteries.” Cole shook his head, amused but as he ever was in a public space, on edge. Still, the exploration of options was going well.

“Good to know. Did you see anything else you wanted to look at?”

He didn’t want to trap her at the spice stall the whole time. It wasn’t like these were something he couldn’t track down in his own time if it was really that important. It wasn’t, yet he still had the urge too. Odd.

She wasn’t even trying to read Ruka, it was like his mind was screaming at hers, spraying thoughts and images like an out-of-control fuel line. Her dark brows furrowed and drew together as she watched them, an aching emptiness forming in the pit of her stomach.

It had already been a month.

“Tell him I like the white hair,” Socorra said quietly. “Distin–- dis…ting.. sting.. dis*kark* it.” She flapped her natural, burn-scarred hand in the air, the shiny new one holding her helmet.

”Sahsahlah! Where we go? We go round? Make…round?” Her weight shifted as well.

Elly couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped her lips when she heard Minnie shouting from afar. Her head turned to the source and she flashed a smirk “Hold that thought Mikhail. We’ve got some company.”

The Firrerreo and Arkanian met the Zabrak and Nautolan halfway with Elly somehow managing the first words “I didn’t expect to see you two here” <@160141735354171394> <@244244163002892288>

Mikhail still held his empty wine cup in a hand. The other combed through his hair to keep it nice and swept back. Bright blue eyes scanned the strange pair in front of him behind black glass. He didn’t know these two, at least not well. Perhaps he’d seen them at a gathering before?

He silently sorted his mental files on everyone he knew in the brotherhood in an attempt to draw information that might be of use here. Unfortunately, he wasn’t exactly successful. But it did at least give him a contemplative look while facing the two.

“Yeah, ay, can make a round. You tried spiceberry juice yet? You like the kick. Trust me.” His face pinched in a deep, deep grimace. “And they got this version that’s a hard drink. Can find Erinyes. She knows what it is.”

Turning the Arconan Proconsul waved back to Jemel and Evelyn in signal to come over, and then glanced at Socorra. His brow cocked.

“Should I offer you an arm, or would you kick me in the shins?” <@1056685516441006091> <@216702440140046336>

She blinked one eye, purposely. Ruka advocating booze? The kark happened in a month…

The Sith-Mando briefly looked down at his shins as if contemplating. “But what will people think? So scandalous.”

Socorra accepted the offered arm and wondered if it made this more or less awkward.

Sofila protested, “Awww come on. Apples are healthy!” The expression on her face showed Cole that she was kidding. She knows all the additional sugar that was on it wasn’t going to be all that healthy.

Doesn’t make it taste any less awesome.

Sofila shook her head at his question while she looked around. “Nope! Not that I see right now anyways, that may change later.” She grinned quickly was by his side to give him a quick peck on the cheek, “You’re stuck with me.” Then she gave him space while looked at the spice stall, wondering what he was getting.

The Mirialan gave her a look, her surprise obvious.

“I ain’t like it but I know you drink. So.” He nodded to the approaching guards. “This is Jemel Dresad and Captain Evelyn Wyvern, you might remember.”

<@216702440140046336> <@1056685516441006091>

Should I offer you an arm…

“I just seen we hugged in another timeline. Not see much context, was just fragment.”

Ruka blinked.

“I mean. Do you wanna hug? I’m okay with hugging you.”

Jemel nodded in response to her thanks and smiled in kind. He understood how much it could mean to have someone to relate to, so he was happy to see that his words of consolation had helped her even if it was a small amount. Although it was difficult to be sure with such limited interactions between them, he got the sense that she had a good head on her shoulders for this kind of thing.

An offer to ride along with the Siren Squadron was one he hadn’t expected to receive. “Really?” he asked, his inflection raising ever so slightly. “I’d really enjoy that. If you don’t think I’ll be imposing, of course.”

To see such skilled pilots from a distance was one thing, but to actually sit in the cockpit while they performed their maneuvers? How could he say no to that? He found himself nodding again when Evelyn mentioned, more emphatically this time.

“You’re right,” he remarked, “The job certainly isn’t for everyone.”

And that was why recruiters were highly selective when scouting for potential agents.

“I’m fortunate that my natural skills made me a great fit. And I’m sure the same can be said about yours. How many people get to become accomplished starfighter pilots?”

Upon noticing his Pronconsul’s signal, Jemel gestured in the Mirialan’s direction before approaching at a brisk pace. Tucking his arms behind his back again when he arrived, he nodded first to Ruka, then to Socorra. “Proconsul Erinos, ma'am,” he offered a slight bow when he was introduced, making note of the Proncosul’s linked arms.

“OhmyGAWSH why not? I mean ya tobefair it’s another system but I kinda xuber anywhere and Bril likes to travel a lot for his studies anyways, plus you mentioned it was nice here! But actually Foxxie – that’s my brother – recommended it, he and his partner just took a vacation here and we might meet up with them before they head home yanno? Not all head back together probably but close enough. It’s actually so sweet. Foxxie never took a vacation in his life I swear. He said they had…a nice time.” Her expression softened, a tinge sad, and Bril could feel, guilty, through their bond, but her happiness was genuine and she brightened immediately, barreling on, her skin giving off a faint green hue in the dark like the lights twinkling above glowed gold. “I’m glad to see you’re visiting too! It’s important to stay connected to home sometimes. Hey again, Mikki! Did you come with Elly?”

Her tone and waggled brows were coy, and she elbowed Bril obviously, as if sharing gossip in a stage play, the dramatics making it clear she didn’t mean too much by it.

“I am certain we do not mind. However, do not be offended if we start to give you emesis bags.” Evelyn gave him a slight smirk. Especially if he decides to ride with Eevie. Each pilot had their own skills. Strengths and weakness. Eevie’s? Hers was speed but she could be reckless that could put the team in danger.

Her own? She was good at stealthy and figuring things out but- Evelyn noticed movement.

She glanced over and noticed Ruka’s motion and made her way over to the pair with Jemel at her side. He already said her name, so no need to say it twice but she gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Her posture was straight and her arms gently rest at her side, weapons within range of her hands.

Her emerald hues kept a close watch on Socorra, she seemed to be acting more erratic than she had last seen this woman.

<@244244163002892288> <@141239709291511808>

Cole rolled his eyes but smiled ever so slightly. It fell away soon enough, concentrating for a moment as he grabbed a small bundle, passing the credits over soon after before turning back toward her.

“I think this is the last one I want for now. We can come back later.”

He looked around, spotting one of the stalls nearby and tilting his head toward it questioningly. Hopefully she’d say yes and eat something of substance before gorging on that much sugar. Sofila’s threat to eat all of them as quickly as possible was clearly a joke but he wouldn’t tempt fate.

As per usual, Elly could barely keep up with Minnie’s words. She had met some energetic people in her days, but the Nautolan put them all to shame. She appreciated the praise of her former home. Kasiya would always have a soft spot in Elly’s heart, no matter how much shit she’d been through while living there.

But at the end, Elly wished she hadn’t kept up. She had a suspicion that it was a joke, but she couldn’t tell for sure. So a silver blush crept across her cheeks, and she quickly looked to the three people accompanying her. “No no, we just ran into each other. We didn’t like, we’re not-” she was definitely overwhelmed now. <@160141735354171394> <@1056685516441006091>

The pink that stained his eartips earlier now crawled across Mikhail’s face, arching over the bridge of his nose as his eyes flick up to Elly, then over to Minnie and back a few times. He raised a hand slightly and shook his palm back and forth as if to brush away something subtly. “N- no I’m not sure - I mean, I barely know them and -” He tried to swallow but had to clear his throat. He took a quarter step away from Elly before adjusting his glasses to be a bit closer to his face, covering most of his eyes.

<@244244163002892288> <@1056685516441006091>

“Okay! Well, since I bought this wagon we got some room right her-” She stopped at seeing a familiar sight.

“MINNIE!”

Sofila quickly placed Cole’s purchase into the wagon, grabbed his hand, and the wagon’s handle and zoomed over as fast as she could without harming Cole or breaking the wagon.

The Mirialan came to a screeching halt as he hugged Minnie, “Oh my suns, I miss you so much I saw this pink bug today and thought of you - also this really cute pink plant and- OH-

ELLY!”

She hugged the giant woman and squished her as much as she possibly could and sees the crystal faced man.

“Hi! Wait, yes I’ve seen you, you’re uh- uh”

“Mikhail,” Cole injected.

“Yes! Thank you, You’re Mikhail! Hello! I’m Sofila! You must work on the-”

“Sof,” Cole stopped her. They weren’t in a place for her just to spill everything.

“-on the biiiiiiig buuuillld shiip wooooork thingy mingy thang!”

Without missing a beat, she noticed Bril and gave him a very rapid quick wave at her side that made her fingers look like a blur.

Then she almost hooked her arm around Cole but remembered she hasn’t asked. So she clasped her hands together to keep. them. put.

“Oh! Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Cole!” Oh. Wait. Kriff. Did he want that to be publicly announced?

If she could shrink herself into five inches and crawl into the mounds of candied apple and die in embarrassment, she would.

<@244244163002892288> <@1056685516441006091> <@301514304845381632> <@160141735354171394>

Seeing that her teasing had maybe gone a little sideways – oh geez, Mikhail had been with that Nathan guy, what if he wasn’t even open to women too? Or anybody? And Elly had kids, so there could be a whole relationship she didn’t know about, duh, Minnow! – the tiny Nautolan was about to open her mouth and rush, “Hey, I’m only joking, it'ssokie! Wanna meet our baby–”

Annnnnd then came Sofila.

Minnie laughed as she was nearly tackled, trying to hug back before the Mirialan her brother had taken underwing was gone, but she was genuinely too slow. Sofila was already hugging Elly, towing her boy, who she assumed was the one Sofila gushed about in their several of their group chats. She was a whole rollercoaster going by, but Minnie was enjoying it. She took Bril’s hand to anchor, picking up a bit of lot from their bond that she left open a crack now these days.

“Hi, Cole! Nice to actually get to meetchu! I’m Minnow! Foxen’s sister,” she signed with one free hand while she spoke, fingerspelling her name.

Two new arrivals quickly grew to four. Ellisyn and Mikhail radiated enough discomfort and feelings of panic to make the hairs on the back of Bril’s neck stand at attention, especially after Minnie questioned if the two were an item of some sort without a shred of tact. He loved the woman, but sometimes, she had a way of assuming too much and running with it. Elly’s blushing and Mikhail’s stammering and shrinking away from the taller woman further confirmed that the question had perturbed them both. All he could offer in that moment was a half-hearted smile that he hoped would offer them some reprieve from the worries that the inquiry likely invoked. But based on how quickly that anxiety train left the tracks, he doubted such a meager gesture would offer much on that front.

“Hello, you two,” he began, dipping his head in greeting, “I hope you’ve enjoyed the Expo so far.”

A soft chirp preceded their little tooka popping her head out of the carrier, the snow white with soot-tipped peaks of her ears shooting straight up excitedly as she waited for another piece of grilled meat. Bril, like any good father would, obliged. Femi chimed in with a trilling sound to convey her approval before diving back into her carrier.

One excitable Mandalorian was enough for the comparatively reticent Zabrak, but two? Bril seldom heard his girlfriend’s name shouted so loudly or at all, for that matter; so, when he heard someone do just that, he snapped his head in that direction while moving his free hand to his left hip, where his crossguard saber Concord was fastened. When he saw that it was just the same Mirialan woman he’d first encountered at the Kote Ky'ram Social, and later again during the prelude to the Brotherhood’s invasion of the Ethereal Realm, he relaxed his posture and withdrew his hand. Surely, there were less shocking ways to get someone’s attention.

She wasted no time in coming over to hug Minnie before speaking. A lot. Bril had no trouble following, simply staring in silence while he and the rest of the group were verbally waylaid. There was a lot going on, especially from three of those gathered there. Bril felt some relief when Minnie intertwined her fingers with his, prompting him to give her hand a gentle squeeze to ground himself while introductions were made. Once they were finished speaking, he took a deep breath to calm himself and hopefully encourage the two of them to slow things down a bit. Then, he shifted his attention to Cole.

“Nice to meet you, Cole,” he began, watching the man’s face intently for any minute changes in his expression. Although he didn’t glean anything from the Force at first, which he quickly deduced was a deliberate effort on the human man’s part, Bril eventually tilted his head when his emotions began to seep through the barrier Cole had erected. A knowing look flashed across Bril’s face for but a moment before he lowered his head in another slight bow. “Bril Teg Arga.”

Cole had had to struggle to not flinch at Sofila yelling right beside him so suddenly. By the time he’d realised it was the opposite of a yell in fright, he was already being dragged and she was hugging people. Okay. Hugging. That gave him a moment.

Cole looked over those present, a Nautalon who quickly enough introduced herself as Foxen’s younger sister Minnow. Wait… Actually get to meet him? He resisted the urge to side glance Sofila as she finally came to a standstill. It was fine. She must trust this woman. It’d be fine.

Kadnikov was here but that was as surprising as himself being present. So.. surprising but only minimally. Ellisyn as well. She looked nervous but that fitted how she’d acted back on Dathomir. She had healed well enough it seemed, at least. He wondered for a moment, if she was here on Anderson’s invite as well.

And then the Zabrak who’d reached for his lightsaber informed him of his name and made… a face. One that implied Bril knew more than he should. Cole returned the bow with a slight nod, increasingly uncomfortable though he still spoke, clasping his hands behind his back in a attentive posture, “Good to meet you all. Again, Mikhail. Ellisyn.”

He’d keep the last name out of it, as he’d left his own out when they first met. It wasn’t his place to reveal such connections.

Feeling the pull as Bril reached for his hip, Minnow recognized the startle that had happened. Classic stress response. She gripped his hand a little harder, squeezing three times firmly in rapid succession to signal him to stay with her. Focused task. Rooted memories, like language.

“And this is our babygirl,” Minnie chimed, directing attention to the tooka. “Bril, named her. It’s Zabraki. Yeah, hon?”

Elly felt a little bad when Mikhail took a couple steps away from her, her self conscious mind getting the better of her. He wasn’t embarrassed about the insinuation because it was her, was he? Thankfully though, she didn’t have a lot of time to think on that because she heard a familiar voice screech out Minnow’s name from afar. Her head snapped in Sofila’s direction, feeling yet another wave of pressure wash over her. The three people in her present company didn’t know about Elly’s nocturnal adventures while Sofila did, and what if she thought Elly had already shared that information with the others?

Anxious thoughts continued to rush through her mind until she was roused from her spiral by a sudden hug from the Mirialan of that had joined them. She wrapped her arms back around Sofila for a short embrace before they released each other. The lawyer was grateful for the hug, feeling slightly less pressured than before, but it quickly came back as she continued to speak at hyperspeed.

She was rather confused when Sofila suddenly stopped after introducing Cole to the group but appreciated the break nonetheless. She gave Cole a small wave of acknowledgment and opened her mouth to ask why they were there, but their attention was diverted to the tooka in a carrier. The largest of the group chuckled at the idea of bringing a pet to a big event like this but didn’t put it past Minnie. It was a cute tooka after all.

Mikhail’s eyes snapped to the hilt of Bril’s saber as it was reached for. Despite the utter impossibility of fighting against a saber, his knuckles whitened around the handle of his cane and his grip shifted slightly for better leverage.

Thankfully, the man eased away from the weapon, but Mikhail’s eyes remain carefully aware of the blade. All uncomfortable embarrassment was shorn from his mind, replaced with a sudden alertness. His stance changed as well, to be straighter and more poised for movement. He glanced between everyone there again, reassessing them for signs of potential danger. He did not like that Cole was here. Cole knew of the Kadnikovs, and could easily out him to the others - If he hasn’t already.

Mikhail slolwy drifted another step away, watching the men through dark shades.

Sofila noticed the change in Cole’s emotions. Kriff. She did kark things up. Again. Why was she like this? The Mirialan will have to apologize to him later and discuss things with him later.

But for now! She quickly composed herself and-

“Oh! Hello there!” Sofila saw the tooka, she had seen pictures of cute little Femi from Minnie but never actually really got to meet the cute wittle tooka in person.

“OH my STARRS she is SO cute, help! Oh! So I got bunch of candied apples, do you guys want some?” Sofila offered. If they accept, it’s okay, she can go back to the stall and get some more.

Even the best Force Users in the galaxy were no match for the unpredictability of a toddler. It was something Anders had observed several times over his life. It made him pleases that young Draca had come under his care as an eight year old and thus had skipped what Anders dubbed the “messy” phase.

“Will you require another ice cream or-” Anders then took note of Draca’s expression. He’d gone stone-faced and deep in thought. “Draca, is something the matter?”

The young Jedi snapped himself back to attention. “Sorry, still getting used to being able to sense in the Force like this. Bril is here.”

“Bril?” Anders quirked a brow. “Ah, yes. I recall him. Another Zabrak much like yourself. We have had rather different experiences with young Bril, have we not?”

“You could say that. Last time I saw him, he got possessed by a Nightsister amulet and tried to kill me,” Draca said poignantly.

“Relax, I am sure he means no harm, at least from my experience. He is about as inexperienced and clueless as yourself, ” Anders smirked, getting a hard glare from Draca in response.

<@244244163002892288> <@61385159655559168> <@1056685516441006091>

“Trying to kill me is how I meet lots of friends that don’t know it yet!” Atyiru chimed cheerily. “And possession, that’s a bingo card, that is, just so. Extra points if it’s almost killing another member of a Clan or a unit leader, mhm, right, Cassie? Thankfully Kirra says the ghosts here today are quite nice.”

“Some are very hungry and need extra ice cream,” the girl said solemnly, licking her cone, two bright eyes, one blue, one true, looking in the direction of where her father had sensed Muz.

“We’ll see if they mind popcorn. Much easier to share I think. Hold on a moment.” Fishing in her husband’s bag from whence the towels came by feel, she produced a straw, and exclaimed, “Ah hah! Very clever.”

Then she turned back to Ankira. Held up her own ice cream. And then brought up her previously deactivated lightsaber and activated it again with a moment of warning. “I’ll make this work! Just need something to melt it into for you…Draccles, dear, does the merchant have bowls?”

<@417336769181122562> <@837236610684813342> <@189568236201705472> <@61385159655559168>

“Oh I don’t wanna take any from you gurl! Maybe you can just show us where? You’ve been going on about them apples forever!” Minnie tried to enthuse, eyeballing the way Cole was stiff, Mikhail was slowly creeping off to disengage, and still holding onto Bril. “Maaaaybe you could find us a place to sit down? I think our combined awesomeness startled everybody, whoops! It happens. Just need to all take a breath, okie y'all? Apples for everyone maybe? And…hmmm we need drinks. Maybe something warm, it’s so cold here! I’m a tropical amphibian yanno!”

Indeed she was dressed heavily, but cutely. Her pink outfit was lined with white fur around the hood pulled over her headtails that had ears just like their tooka’s, while the top was long like a mini dress and fur lined at the bottom that tightly hugged her thin hips. Pink leggings and pink boots completed it.

Draca fumbled for a moment. Draccles? That was a new one.

He approached a merchant, a gruff looking Human with a large mustache. “Excuse me, sir. Do you have a bowl we can have please? Its for my friend over there.”

“Oh, another one looking for freebies because he’s a Taldryan bigwig! I gotta make ends meet ya know! How about I give ya my boots and the shirt off my back while I’m at it!”

Draca frowned. “Sir, I was just asking. I’m more than happy to pay…”

“Yeah, well FRAKK YOU!”

The raised voice garnered the attention of the nearby patrons, including Anders who watched the situation unfold withbarms folded across his chest. He’d step in if he needed too, but Draca was perfectly capable of dealing with the situation.

“Very much so, like when our new Justicar was nearly assassinated in his own capital when he was the Emperor.” Cassandra remarked as she licked her own cone, her left arm behind her back. “Very much extra points in that regard…”

Marick glanced at Anders, fighting back his instinct to go help the young Zabrak negotiating with the merchant. This was something credits could solve easily, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his expense card. The sleek matte black card had the Grand Master’s signet on it, and all the right markings of Arx Capital Exchange on it.

Marick held it up towards Anders, lifting a brow.

I can just pay the merchant…

He then glanced over at his wife, and her attempt to melt ice cream with her lightsaber. He exhaled slowly and started to open his mouth to remind Atyiru that lightsaber blade, despite being plasma-based, were maintained by a magnetic field and therefore didn’t give off heat. But she was making it work, and so he closed his mouth and let it go.

I know, but the boy handle this. You may be surprised.

“Sir, please I’m just…”

“These last two years have been a joke! Those… things attacked and I lost my wife! I’ve been trying to make ends meet ever since and… and…”

The merchant broke into sobs. What was Draca to do? The same thing he always did when someone was upset.

He wrapped his arms around the merchant and gently embraced him, patting his back.

“It’s OK,” Draca muttered. “You’ll be OK.”

Ankira watched Atyiru and tried to figure out what she was doing with the lightsaber and the ice-cream. It didn’t make sense to her at all, probably because the finer details were missing to her sight. When she heard the man sobbing she looked around to see what has happening. Just as she turned she saw Draca hug the man and frowned slightly. ‘That boy is to good for this world,’ she sillently thought.

Marick put the card away, nodded, and then resumed monitoring Weyne’s attempts at ice cream.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” The merchant sobbed. “I haven’t been the same since the Children of Mortis attacked Kasiya. I have two young girls at home relying on daddy to bring home the bacon, ya know?”

“It’s OK,” Draca smiled. “All is forgiven. You’re a good dad just looking out for his family. How much for the bowl?”

“Erm… how about five credits?”

“Just five?” Draca folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head. “It’s a pretty good bowl. How about… fifty credits?”

“F-Fifty!?” The merchant sputtered. “It’s just a bowl!”

Draca shrugged. “It’s a nice bowl, I like it. I like those forks and knives too. Good quality. Four hundred credits for a pair?”

“F-Four hundred!? That’ll feed my kids and I for a month!”

“And pray do tell where you are getting that money from, Draca?” Anders questioned.

“You,” Draca smiled. “Come on, Anders. You’re filthy rich. You can afford it and it won’t even make a dent in your credit account.”

“That is besides the point,” Anders furrowed his brows. “This man was highly rude to you. Not to mention I am not a charity. I do not give handouts.”

<@244244163002892288> <@61385159655559168> <@417336769181122562>

Three squeezes from his Nautolan’s hand help anchor Bril to the present, pulling him back from the precipice of a ruined night. Once he came to with a gentle sigh, he realized how quickly his hearts were beating, and how Cole and Mikhail both had looked at him. Had they noticed him going for his saber? Minnie’s voice broke through the mental chatter. She was addressing him, asking him something… Right, Femi.

“Yes, that’s right, love,” he replied, “Femi is short for Fik'Eeth'mina. It doesn’t translate perfectly to Basic, but an approximation is ‘A little hunter who is nonetheless brave.’”

Sofila’s reaction to seeing their little furball brought a smile to Bril’s face. She was cute, indeed. Probably the cutest pet he’d seen in a long time. Minnie had even off-handedly mentioned making a Xornstagram account for her. “You can pet her if you’d like, Sofila. A candied … apple? Don’t think I’ve ever had one, but I’d love to tr–”

Two presences in the Force prompted Bril to cut his words short and turn his head in the direction of a certain Chiss-Zabrak duo that he recognized. Without missing a beat, he leaned over to Minnie and said in a hushed tone:

“Anders and Draca are here.”

She, of course, knew about his run ins with both of them. They weren’t exactly on bad terms, but things had been tense between them. He had, however, mentioned to her his desire to move forward on a more positive note.

Marick stepped over and offered a polite bow to the vendor.

“I haven’t seen my daughter this excited over ice cream before in her young life,” Marick spoke, as he laid his card down on the vendors counter.

“Please charge me for my extra bowl as well. Five-hundred credits should be fair.”

Marick didn’t show much emotion on his face, but his calm tone and posture still left very little room for discussion.

The vendor wiped at his eyes, regained some of his composure, and then nodded as he ran the card. When he handed it back, Marick bowed his head again.

“The Envoy Corps thanks you,” he said before moving back to stand with his family.

There were probably better people to represent the Envoy Corps. More charismatic and charismatic people. But for now, it was his responsibility, and as his wife had taught him, in her round about way, a little bit of kindness went a long way.

“Wonderful! Now we have a hat and decorations too!” Atyiru singsonged upon the boys’ return with extremely fine bowls, forks, and knives. “Draca, you very good noodle, very good. What was I doing? Oh yes. Look here, Kirra, Weyne. This is how you can cauterize a wound with a lightsaber! Very very carefully, careful as meesed and mices.”

While Marick helpfully levitated a bowl for her as she knew he would, because she had thought very firmly he should do it, thank you, dear, she stuck the ice cream out and then stuck her rainbow blade right in it.

The thing more or less exploded. But only a little. Pesky thermodynamics.

“Oh bother,” Atyiru said as she licked vanilla off her face. Couldn’t lick her eyebrows though. Shame. “Well, you do NOT do sounds like that. But usually we’re not using something already cold, see. Anyhooziles…”

The rest of the affair when very quickly, cold whipped diary no match for plasma, rapidly running into the bowl as it melted and hissed, making sticky steam and sputtering. In seconds flat there was a bowl of liquefied vanilla cream and burst sprinkles and the Miraluka mother was about a hundred times stickier all along one arm than her one year old.

“Marvelous!” She deactivated the blade, which made no mess, and then stuck the straw in and picked the bowl out of the air and offered it to the helmeted Mandalorian. “Here you go, sweetie!”

<@417336769181122562>

Marick quietly applied the extra towel and patter down Atyiru’s face.

Ankira took the drink from her and nodded slightly in thanks, “Thank you.”

She took a sip from her ‘ice’ drink through the straw and was hit by how sweet molten ice-cream tastes. “That’s uh… quite different,” she said trying to hide the overload of sticky taste in her mouth.

“Sir, that was awfully generous of you,” Draca decided that, due to Marick’s offer, he should at least be thanked.

After all, he didn’t need to do that, abd the credits were going to a family desperate in need. Still, he was a man from another Clan. The gesture deserved to be appreciated.

“Do you need any help?” Draca asked Marick, watching him pat down his wife’s face.

Then again, maybe he could help Ankira? She seemed to be struggling with her straw…

<@189568236201705472> <@417336769181122562>

“I’m alright, thank you Draca,” he replied.

Wandering the grounds Race had to remind himself he wasn’t on duty. Since being recruited to the Royal Guard he had been given little time to himself. It was the reward for being good at his job he suspected. Infiltration and assassination was apparently a booming business in the Brotherhood. Particularly in removing remaining members of the Children of Mortis.

The vendors however removed him from his thoughts with both the smell of the food and the noise of preparing the foods and hawking their wares. A small stall with a somewhat attractive woman attracted his attention. Meat skewers with assorted vegetables smoked over an open fire. The sizzle of the juices and fats hitting the hot coals was almost mesmerizing. It would sure beat the rations he was used to at any rate.

Greeting the woman he paid for two skewers plus a little extra for her trouble. Food on a stick was just what this festival needed. Allowing him to wonder the grounds while still eating. Now he needed to find a location with a good blonde ale.

“That would.. that.. Greetings. I do remember.” She quickly turned to the pair behind Ruka. “‘Sir’ if you must. Socorra is fine.”

Both hands occupied, though not so occupied she couldn’t draw a blade in a heartbeat, the woman nodded her head slightly, some loose narrow braids spilling forward.

“The only title the Vizslans use is ‘Lady’ for some reason. It caught on like plague with no cure.” <@216702440140046336> <@1056685516441006091>

The Regent of the Brotherhood and his former “mad doctor” consort, the Zeltron-Hapan Aisha Solon, had also made the trip back to the Caelus System for the food and beverage expo on Kasiya - albeit a bit late, given they had to wait to appropriate one of Xesh Flight’s Xi-class shuttles after the destruction of Arx Capital Exchange’s flagship the Eternal on a large Kasiya Spaceport landing pad not long ago. Erinyes had assured the MandoMedic herself at the now Deputy Grand Master’s feast that the two would get together for some drinks and fun, though the Mandalorian General she had dragged with had a bit more animosity towards such gatherings - further compounded by the fact that as the de-facto head of the Traditionalists faction seeking the dissolution of the Taldryan Republic and return to the old ways, Kasiya was not always such a relaxed venue.

Still, the two Mandalorians fully garbed in their armor - Aisha for warmth, Bes'uliik because of his adherence to The Way of the Manda'lor - toured the expo, mostly keeping to themselves while the hybrid-species doctor kept an eye out for her new Zeltron friend. Zxyl spotted many that he recognized and several he did not but chose for now not to engage with them, instead waiting until one of them decided to approach instead.

Ankira lifted her helmet just a smidge to get the straw working better, but the overly sweetness of the ‘ice’ made it even worse to drink. Slowly she put the drink away, not wanting to hurt Atyriu’s feelings after doing all this to give her the drink.

Lowering her helmet back in place she glanced around and frowned. Perhaps she could get something else to drink to get the stickiness from her mouth.

After spending almost a year eating food perfectly curated to her own needs and not her tastebuds, Alaisy Tir'eivra felt like changing it up a little. This square was new to her, everything was. She couldn’t suppress a gentle smile. Still, taking it easy on the quantities would probably be the smart thing to do.

Her nostrils widened as she picked up the various smells coming from the food stalls, her heels click-clacking in a perfect rhythm. Enticing, just like the cold air. The low temperatures only seemed to accentuate her glowing, electric-blue eyes, flanked by sharp eyeliner, making them look ever more chilling.

Her living suit was shaped like a long figure-hugging dress, with a high neck, belted buckles with straps that fastened the full-length slit on both sides and short sleeves. Unlike other times she had left the alchemical material Matt. The texture contrasted with her long, shiny, black tail that swayed elegantly in tandem with her body movements.

Straight, raven hair flowed through the breeze as she made her way to a noodle shop.

A gloved hand shoved forward a credit chip. “Please, make sure the noodles are exceptionally spicy.” She leaned on the counter, peering around, checking to see if there was anyone, or anything familiar.

Tahiri and Ro-Tahn continued through the market, bantering back and forth as the two siblings were deciding on how to share what they had gotten. Ro had gotten a bowl of curried fish balls, with extra sauce, while Tahiri had three skewers, one with local vegetable’s, one that was a whole fried fish and another that was grilled nerf. The last skewer she would pull a piece off and toss it to Zuska, and then eat a piece herself, with her brother constantly trying to sneak a piece off himself from time to time.

“Ro quit it. If you want some just ask,” Tahiri gave her brother a small growl. “Here if you want some that bad, here you can some of this veggie skewer I got,” offering the one skewer, while she twisted her other arm away from trying to keep her food out of his reach.

“Aww come on Hiri. I’ve never like veggie’s, you know that,” he tried to lunge for her other hand, but she was too nimble for him. “Come on, share some of the meat, will ya.”

“No way, you’re not sharing those balls with me, so I ain’t sharing any of my skewer’s,” she stuck her tongue out at him, while quickly dodging his advances to get her treats. The petite Togruta was light and quick, moving ahead of her brother easily, before she suddenly stopped in mid stride, turning her head and heel towards the shining, familiar Force signature of her godson. He’s close. Shureen dyfor kefro (We meet again [Zabraki]) Opening her senses and herself up within the Force, she felt where he was, and like a moth to a flame, as she slyly smirked at her brother, before taking off.

“Catch me if you can, Ro,” she chided at him.

“What?!” taken by surprise as both Zuska and Tahiri took off between the stalls and other patrons at a brisk pace, leaving him to try and run with a bowl of food in hand, while trying not to spill, or run into anyone. “Hey wait up!”

Tahiri threw the last bit of nerf meat to Hadzuska as they loped together through the crowd, her heart racing a tad, feeling his warmth growing stronger. They had sent messages back and forth not too long ago, though she still needed to finish compiling and send all of the research and data she had collected from the temple, after going back there herself, and from what her Nightsister contacts had found as well. However, communication through holocomms or by interspace messages was very different than face to face interactions. The Elder noticed that there were five other Force signatures very close to Bril’s, two of which were also very familiar, her heart skipping a beat as she round a corner and stopped within a few yards of the group. Sofila! Cole! and Bril! Her mind and heart wrestled with each for a moment, trying to decide whether to wait before interacting with all of them at once, or hang back for a moment.

She never got to decide the best option was, as Ro-Tahn turned the corner quicker than she noticed. He also was too late to notice that his sister had come to a stop, too focused on both tossing the plastic bowl in a recycling container, while also tossing up and catching the last fish ball in his mouth. The bowl found it’s way into the container, but the tasty morsal was not so lucky, as Ro-Tahn bumped into Tahiri hard, causing both of them to fall to the ground in a heap. There was a grunt and a squeak from the Togrutan siblings, while Zuska and Dunga exchanged a look.

Marick looked up momentarily from his family as he sensed a presence he had not felt in some time.

Tir’eivra.

So it was true that she had returned. He made a mental note to update his files, did a quick cross reference of possible emergency protocols, but her signature*seemed* to be similar to what he knew her to be. Time would tell if she was still friend or foe, but there was…a lot of noise through the Force that made it hard to really tell–

Weyne chucked his remaining ice cream into Marick’s face, having realized his spoon made a good flinging apparatus.

“Ok. I think that’s enough Ice Cream,” Marick said patiently as he took out another towel, wiped his face clean, and then collected everyone who had finished trash.

Weyne kicked his feet and laughed as Marick then scooped him up, and then made a few adjustments under his cloak from his pack to set up the baby bjorn holster. He plopped Weyne into it, who failed his arms a bit but seemed content.

Kirra looked up at them and smiled. She patted Marick on the leg.

“There there, Papa. He just wanted to share. Hehe.”

Marick gave her a stern look, which wasn’t much different than his usual look so she just swayed in place with her hands locked together and smiled brightly.

It was hard to stay stern with her. He smiled briefly, then look up to assess the new presences that seemed to be popping up.

Draca felt it first, a presence in the Force so eerily dark it caused sweat to form on his brow. His breath hitched and he looked to Anders for guidance. First there was Bril and now… whatever this was.

The Chiss seemed to have felt it too, though was nowhere near as perturbed. Instead his head tilted slightly to the side like he was inspecting something curious.

Anders glanced to Marick. The Exarch had likely felt it to, hence why his child had slipped past his guard.

“Anders?” Draca asked.

“Ah, it seems the former Herald is here to grace us with her presence,” Anders folded his arms across. “No need to concern yourself, Draca. She has not commited to anything hostile yet.”

“Yet…” Draca deadpanned.

“Marick, you know of Miss Tir'eivra, do you not? Do you believe she will pose a problem?” Anders asked. <@189568236201705472>

“Just confirms what I read from reports,” Marick replied calmly. If he was concerned, it was hard to see from his recently-toweled and ice cream-free face. “I do not think there is any need to be concern”.

Telepathically, he added: She is not one for deception, and at the very least has always been up front with her pursuits and embracing of the Dark Side as an ally. I doubt she is the same as when she left, but she has always been an asset to the Brothehood, even if her loyalties are her own. I could say the same for most of our comrades across the Clans though.

Understood. I will keep a watchful eye on events surrounding her, just in case something unfortunate does occur.

Anders clasped his hands together, rubbing them in an almost uncharacteristically gleeful manner.

“Exarch, Lady Arconae, Ankira, Cassandra, I shall bid you all farewell for the moment. I have an old… acquaintance I absolutely must catch up with post haste. Do be good, Draca, and be sure to be hospitable to our guests.”

“You’re going to find Bril, aren’t you?” Draca asked, not buying Anders’ charade one bit.

He’d lived with the Chiss for eleven years, of course he knew him that well.

“Indeed, I am rather curious as to what he has discovered in his travels across the stars,” Anders smirked, waving the group a gentle goodbye before taking his leave.

Draca sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t really blame Anders. After all, he hadn’t known him to be the most social of people.

In fact, he downright sucked at social interaction.

“Who wants more ice cream!” Draca held his arms open in a wide, enthusiastic gesture. “Or maybe some food and drink? Lots to see around here. There’s this farm on tve outskirts of the Karufr Lowlands that really…”

<@244244163002892288> <@417336769181122562> <@61385159655559168> <@1056685516441006091>

Cole had been following Minnie’s suggestion of finding the group a table to settle at. There were a few larger ones nearby and he made sure to gently bump Sofila’s arm so she knew which direction to go in despite chatting with everyone.

It also gave him a moment to breathe, aware of Mikhail’s gaze flicking back over to him. Cole understood the paranoia but had no way to communicate that he wouldn’t just oust the Kadnikov.

Oh well.

He sat down in time to notice Tahiri just as someone else came round the corner and directly barrelled into her back. The Human blinked, concerned for a moment but they were okay.

Marick nodded towards Anders and narrowed his eyes, actually narrowed them so it was visible on his stoic features at Draca at the suggestion of more ice cream.

“Lets try some other…less messy deserts, shall we?” he offered.

Kirra, having hit her sugar-high most likely, bounced up and down excitedly.

Alaisy slurped away at the noodles as she lifted them to her mouth with chopsticks.

The flavor was nice and savory, however, it wasn’t nearly hot enough. Before she walked off she nabbed the jar of spicy oil with her. The vendor was about to say something until she tapped on her lightsaber hilt with a chopstick and walked off.

She wasn’t the type to wait around. That time was needed to think, without distractions.

A deep blue-skinned male soon caught her glowing eyes. She squinted above her cup of noodles to make out the dignified walk he had.

She swallowed and tossed the cup and oil jar away. “Someone with authority.” The Sith balled her fist as she stepped towards the Chiss.

The heavy weight of her boots made the bladed heels clang against the flooring.

“Oh, yeah,” Draca chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly upon seeing the chaos mess Weyne had created. “We do a bunch of great skewers, I think we can get some small ones too for the kids, if you both are OK with that?”

He had to make sure he asked Atyiru too, it was proper manners, after all.

<@189568236201705472> <@244244163002892288>

Anders heard it. The distinct clanging of sharp blades upon duracrete. High heels belonging to an even higher woman approached him.

He didn’t need a dossier to identify Alaisy Tir'eivra. The woman’s abnormal height towered over most everyone at the expo whilst her tail was a rather unorthodox feature.

If you didn’t know Sith Alchemy, that is.

Anders held his ground and smiled cordially. “Lady Tir'eivra, a pleasure to make the acquaintance of the Brotherhood’s former Herald. I am Vice-chancellor Anderson. High Inquisitor, Golden Envoy, Sith.”

He spoke the last word in an ancient language once almost forgotten, even amidst most undeserving Sith within the Brotherhood.

Ur-Kittât.

He held a hand out for her to accept.

“Very well, Sir,” replied Jemel, inclining his head again as a gesture of added respect. “I was only accepted into the DIA after you had accepted your new position. It would have been an honor to serve.”

He didn’t know much about Clan Vizsla, at least nothing that wasn’t a matter of public record. “And how is the Zsoldos System treating you? Well, I hope.”

<@216702440140046336> <@244244163002892288>

‘Sith’ was the only title she really only cared about hearing. The Chiss fit the picture well with his formal demeanor and respectful tone.

“Thank you for having me Vice Chancellor and a pleasure to make your acquaintance. There are no doubt many interests we share.” She reached out with a gloved hand in return.

Her eyes peered over to all the newcomers, the organic one squinting a little to see them clearly through the temporary double-sightedness of the cybernetic surgery. “Actually, that karker right there started the Lady Erinos thing.” Socorra nodded to Zxyl and his doctor-partner-lady-girlfriend-hotstuff.

Ruka grimaced. “Ay, I know you ain’t like that, how bout they respect you decision? Like, as a person if not as their second.” Violet eyes rolled. He didn’t keep prodding about the hug, very aware of how scattered the woman seemed to be. Standing still faster intensified. With Jemel’s comment, and then Socorra’s, his glare switched over to the Regent of the Brotherhood.

“Well let’s have a word then.”

<@1056685516441006091> <@141239709291511808> <@260640060775464960> <@216702440140046336>

“Very good. It has been smooth ride so far.” She continued talking as she kept tabs on everyone, mentally noting Jemel’s mention and apparent employment with the DIA. “How is agency under new Director?”

Finally, some proper demeanour. From a fellow Sith, no less. It was good to see respect and cordiality hadn’t completely gone extinct in this backwards galaxy.

He gently shook Alaisy’s hand and released it.

“Indeed there may be, including our interests in the art of the dark arcane. It is rare to see someone bold enough to use alchemy on themselves. Your transformation is intriguing and impressive.”

He spoke the last lines in ur-Kittât, lest there were prying ears unworthy to listen in.

Alaisy let out a sigh of relief. It had been a while since she had last met someone with interests in actually applying Sith alchemy. Still, she or Anders would not be Sith if there was no danger of competition between them. She narrowed her eyes and straightened her back.

“We know that we have to go all the way in order to achieve something. Half-measures would have been a death sentence. My experiments are far from finished and I have much to show you. Let us make time for it.”

She replied in fluent ur-Kittat, sounding more aggressive and guttural, without the aristocratic lilt.

Minnow was the first to sit. She eagerly gestured for the others present, for Ellybelle and Sofi and Mikhail to take the load off and enjoy themselves. “Sit, sit lovelies,” she began, “Then, we can decide what we’d like to have! Something warm and not spicy.” She made sure to shoot her Zabrak a playful wink from the corner of her eye. He’d shown his tastebuds to be mostly trustworthy the last time he got them food, but she still had her doubts. Memories of that awful pepper jam incident still lived rent free in her head, making her headtails tremble at the thought.

“Oh! Ellybelle. You would know what’s good and totally not tear-and-pain inducing for us to have. Any food and drink you recommend?”

Bril chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. He was about to sit when he heard a commotion to his right. A look of surprise spread across his visage when he noticed both Tahiri and Ro-Tahn on the ground before him. Was she that eager to see him? She’d brought Zuska along, too. And another animal he didn’t recognize. His smile widened while he removed Femi’s carrier and handed her off to Minnie; although he trusted Zuska, he wasn’t sure yet how their little Tooka reacted around other animals. Nor was he sure how this one he didn’t recognize would react in kind.

Bril stepped forward with his arms outstretched to embrace his godmother in a hug. “It’s so good to see you again, Tahiri,” he began in Togruta before remembering his manners, seamlessly transitioning back to Galactic Basic in the middle of his sentence. “My apologies, again, for not reaching out sooner. The last few months have been pretty crazy. As I’m sure you’re well aware.”

After giving her shoulders a squeeze, Bril shifted his attention to the Togruta who rose to his feet next to her. “And this must be Ro-Tahn. It’s good to finally meet you.” The young Zabrak extended his arm to shake and, if Ro-Tahn accepted the gesture, to pull him into a single-armed embrace, as well.

<@244244163002892288> <@301514304845381632> <@432543120635461643> <@216702440140046336> <@375384499770359819> <@160141735354171394>

Socorra’s words came through the auditory system in the two Mandalorians’ helmets, triggering their heads to turn in the Sith’s direction as they were passing by. Both stopped, with a light giggle coming from beneath Solon’s circuit-board patterned purple helm at the… compliment? The two stopped at the doctor’s physical insistence, since Zxyl’s arm was across her shoulders, standing to the side of the group. The Regent of the Brotherhood and Mandalorian General was the first to acknowledge.

“And I have no regrets,” he declared curtly, with the now characteristic dark and foreboding otherworldly echo mimicking his every word, “for showing you the respect you were entitled to as a former Herald.”

Aisha lightly tapped the chestplate of the Dathomirian-Mandalorian from under his arm, a warning to not get defensive over the language the Grand Master’s Praetor had chosen.

“How is the new eye treating you?” the Zeltron-Hapan hybrid quickly interjected, trying to change the topic and follow up with her patient at the same time, “I had anticipated no major post-surgical complications. Looks good in you. Any discomfort, pain, irritation in the affected areas?”

Alaisy might have missed the aristocratic lilt, but she had conducted herself well. Yes, her tone was aggressive, but the words she spoke were not that of an immediate enemy.

Still, backstabbing and betrayal were as natural to the Sith and breathing air and drinking water.

Anders raised one of his hands, showing the deep cut marks across his palms.

“Indeed, we should. I am no stranger to doing whatever necessary to achieve the desired results, especially when the less deserving of their lives are the perfect test subjects.”

Anders lowered his hand.

“Alas, my numerous positions make it difficult to find adequate time for myself in these ventures, though I experiment whence able. Recently I discovered rathtar blood had some rather scalding properties when applied to daggers and blades.”

The pilot remained quiet during the ordeal and interactions. Jemel expressed his wish of being able to serve under her. She was unsure what to think of it, especially unknowing the reason to why Socorra had dropped from a very important and informative position to work over at Clan Vizsla. Ruka agreed in having a word with a familiar Mandalorian whom she had met once and the purple clad female.

Then Zxyl started talking.

She visibly looked shocked for a moment before returning to her stoic expression. His voice- odd. That was not what she remembered.

“And I’m glad to hear it, sir. Things have been running smoothly, as far as I can tell. At least where I can see.”

Of course, Jemel didn’t have the vantage point within the organization to see how things really were running behind the veil. He, like all DIA operatives, were only given whatever information was necessary to aid them in their duties. And he suspected Socorra knew this. He’d be surprised if she didn’t, which led him to believe that the question was less about how the agency itself was running and more about how Director Lottson was performing–whether her replacement was an adequate one.

When his Proconsul mentioned the Regent, Jemel felt a tinge of excitement run up his spine. He had guessed correctly that the night would be provide ample opportunity for him to meet the Brotherhood’s most esteemed members. As they approached, Jemel kept his arms folded behind his back while bowing slightly to the Regent and the second Mandalorian who accompanied him. The latter mentioned something about a new eye, prompting to shift his gaze back to Socorra. A cybernetic eye? How fascinating.

<@141239709291511808> <@260640060775464960> <@244244163002892288> <@216702440140046336>

“‘Lord’ works for a Herald, don’t it?” Ruka asked, obviously not much caring about the relative positions they held.

She rolled her shoulders and tried to give her rusty accent a bit more formality. “I still have stockpiles of Rathtar blood, it is certainly useful. A product from one of my lesser expected adventures. I can ship it over anytime, it is merely taking space at this moment.”

The Zeltron seemed to contemplate for a while. He was enjoying himself and didn’t have anything better to do. “I’ll be your shadow!”

Zxyl returned the bow from Jemel with a nod of acknowledgement. He wasn’t one for such things, and did not expect them, but it would be rude to ignore such courtesy. He did not know this person personally, but given their entourage and what he had overheard thus far, it was safe to assume Jemel was Arconan. He was certain of it.

His eyes turned to the Arconan Proconsul, helmet shifting ever so slightly in the man’s direction. The Mandalorian noted recently an increase in salary pay from the Brotherhood’s coffers to Ya-ir. He had ascended higher.

“I would assume so,” he responded in kind with the dark echo continuing, “Though I believe the term ‘excellency’ has been used in previous times. I personally do not go by such titles, and was merely offering her respect as a woman who was in a position of power.”

There wasn’t much to say on the matter, though the General was curious as to where the Mirialan’s question was heading. Enough to intrigue him so that he would stick around, at least for the moment.

Aisha held off on saying anything further until the Socorran had a chance to respond to her questions. In the past the former mad doctor wouldn’t have cared about the post operation happenings of a patient, but it was no longer the past. She had been working on reforming her image, both as part of the medical and Mandalorian communities and using her extensively robust medical knowledge for more honorable purposes than stitching up the lackeys of despots and crime lords. She could feel the need for a proper drink coming on, though.

<@1056685516441006091>

“I’ve learned it’s smarter to ask they somebody, woman or not, power or not, how they wanna be addressed,” Ruka commented back, his look significant. “But definitely of its gendered anything. My Consul goes only by Shadow Lord or sir if she gotta. And Socorra preferred sir, at least last we knew.” His gaze turned on the other Proconsul to check, also hoping for positive medical news, still churning with uneasy surprise over the fact that she’s taken the cybernetics.

Like a pinprick straight to the brain, she received the message. So much for cordial greetings, back to informality at a distance. Now she had to actually respond to it too.

Why? What am I supposed to do with this?

She tried to concentrate on the spot.

Imagine images, calm down, and start letter by letter.

All she was really able to send back to Erinyes was a faint notion of an upcoming headache on her own side.

<@645466919415054357>

Bes'uliik shrugged, his gaze shifting to the Grand Master’s Praetor for a moment, and then back to Ya-ir. He was un-phased by the interaction, and addressed the Mirialan with the visor of his helmet fully in the man’s direction, a new tone of seriousness taking over his own voice and the dark otherworldly echo that mimicked it.

“I apologize for not sharing the same level of concern you do. In my experience, I have not found it necessary or required to interact with another. I of course do not have the same or length of history with Lady Erinos as many of you here, however she has never expressed such things to me and is more than capable and able to at any time speak for herself - and therefore tell me if she wishes to be addressed differently. I will of course respect whatever decision she personally decides to share , Proconsul Ya-ir. Just as if you wish to be referred by something different, you only need to say so. Until that time… I will continue to refer to her as Socorra and Lady Erinos despite whatever objections her former Proconsul may voice. I appreciate your view on the matter.”

Whether or not Ruka agreed with it, respect for one’s history or current status was something that the Mandalorian was always going to give upfront and without being asked. If he was asked by someone to change how he addressed them? He would. Everyone was entitled to that. In this case, that hadn’t occurred thus far, so he was naturally falling to the latter.

Aisha listened to the conversation intently, trying not to let it distract or interrupt any response the Vizslan Proconsul may have to her little medical questionnaire.

Socorra almost choked at Excellency. She hadn’t heard the term in ages.

“Is alright either way or no way. Emeritus means very little these days. No one remember who I was or did, not in this timeline.” The woman flapped the fingers of the hand still holding onto Ruka’s arm, the other carrying her bucket. “Just not ‘ma’am,’ it drive me nuts.”

Probably better you not know what I did, she only thought towards Ruka, but kark knew that tunnel went both ways.

Socorra turned to the extremely attractive Zeltron-Hapan hybrid. “It is good, very good, just some double vision—not used to using.. two. The surgery scars were minimal, so these ah.. runes.. not your doing. Anything more than scratch will cause them.”

She didn’t bother pointing, the marks on her face were obvious and obviously unnatural. They matched the plethora that was evident on much of her dark, desert-native skin. <@260640060775464960>

Muz’s ear twitched. He straightened his neck, weaving a thread through his senses, sharpening his ears, his eyes. He knew those sounds, carried as they were on the wind. There was always a thread of power behind them, deep beneath the voice, and it was that which drew his attentions. He did not expect to hear them used here, not in this context. Not in the open.

He let his eyes draw across the crowd, dark pools reflecting the lights from the concourse as he focused, refining his search. Beyond the horned Beskar of the Regent and the frost-touched eye of his last Herald, lay the source. He moved toward them in measured steps, his mind flitting between amusement and concern as he approached. The world sang to him as he opened his senses, feeling along the edges of reality for any snag that could cause… well.

“[You speak with an old tongue.]” The words came easier for his tired voice, woven through as they were. It took actual effort to keep them from reaching inside their heads. He nodded at the Chiss, then turned to his compatriot, tilting his head. “[I do not think we have met.]”

<@188018248241905664> <@837236610684813342>

“Very glad to hear it hun,” the doctor replied with a bit of joy in her voice. Post operative complications were the worst, and at best annoying for both patient and surgeon. Although she was a bit apprehensive of Socorra at their first meeting, the fair and tanned skin woman was clearly growing on her. Maybe one day, literally. But those were thoughts inappropriate for this interaction, even if they were fun.

She removed her helmet with a light hiss as it depressurized, revealing her smooth fuchsia skin and flicking her tightly braided purple hair over her shoulder. The Zeltron-Hapan hybrid shoved the red and purple circuit-board patterned helmet sideways forcibly over to Zxyl to hold, removing herself from under his arm as she leaned in slightly to examine the runes a bit more closely with her piercing amethyst eyes and no helmet heads up display to get in the way. Not that she thought the woman would mind.

“Interesting,” she said, “These are caused naturally upon injury? Or unnaturally by the cause of something else?”

The doctor had never in her years of practicing medicine seen such things occur naturally in a humanoid, and assumed the latter - but was still curious of the answer, to say the least. Overall, she had been happy to operate and provide the woman with cybernetic replacements constructed by the Regent since the Vizslan Proconsul had declined cloned organic ones that she could have provided. Still an amicable solution that saw her vision fully returned and a proper cybernetic arm fitted.

There wasn’t much that made Anders stiffen on the spot like a scolded soldier on the spot. Anders had hinted Force Users, Collective Agents, Mortis spies, Jedi enclaves, dredged through the Ethereal Realm and slayed his witch of a master in cold blood. Even whilst wearing the remnant alchemy of former Taldryan artifacts within his armor…

There was nothing like the presence of Lord Muz Ashen.

At least they were on more amicable grounds, or at least Muz had no reason to kill him yet. In fact, Anders was ratger surprised to hear ur-Kittat spoken from the former Grand Master’s lips.

“Lord Ashen, a pleasure as always,” Anders bowed lightly, keeping in the language of the ancient Sith. “Excuse me, where are my manners? Lady Tir'eivra, this is former Grand Master Muz Ashen. Lord Ashen, this is Alaisy Tir'eivra, former Herald of the Brotherhood.”

<@188018248241905664>

She stood still, watching the amethyst hues dance across her face. “Sith Alchemy,” she replied at the curiosity of the female Mando. “Rite of initiation long time ago. Darkity dark osik.”

An eyebrow went up a degree, watching the Chiss go rigid. The Inquisitor had ridden with him into a collective facility, and even received healing from him as they left, and yet his reaction was this. Eventually he’d have to look into whatever it was that Lyspair was teaching about him. No, wait, it wasn’t on Lyspair anymore. The Acadamy moved after the…

He turned his view, nodding at Alaisy. “[The Herald’s office always had such interesting work.]” His pronounciation was fluid in the old tongue, the patterns and pauses not unlike those from the ancient holocrons. He paused, letting his throat cool for a moment before continuing. “Forgive [me for my Voice. I’m more] comfortable [with more direct methods.]” He substituted the words seamlessly, the deep gravel tones of his natural speaking lending an almost Kittat-tone to the common ones. Of course the ancient sith would not have words for things like comfort or forgiveness. Yet diplomacy mattered a fair bit here.

<@188018248241905664>

Zxyl had heard Erinyes’ voice come through his helmet’s comlink, but had been slightly too pre-occupied to respond. Now that the conversation had died down a bit, he had the opportunity.

He momentarily turned off his helmet’s external voice vocoder as to not disturb the conversation with his response, juuuuust long enough to re-open the channel and utter a single word back his fellow Scion of Taldryan.

“General.”

The greeting had become customary for them, and it was a tradition the Mandalorian did not seek to be rid of.

“Mostly,” he replied curtly, maintaining the disabled vocoder for now to keep their conversation private, “I have not partaken in any food or drink. She is here, inspecting her handiwork. We are with the assembled Arconans and Lady Erinos. I will send her to you when she is done.”

Almost cocking an ear to the wind, the woman’s mind stretched the short way to the tables to her former boss and mentor.

The Herald duties changed after my retirement. They lead the Shroud Syndicate now.

Alaisy peered at Anders, seeing him like this made her shift her footing. Things moved fast today, really fast. Almost like the many nightmares she’d been having as of late. But unlike those this one didn’t come with excruciating pain or a vision of her own death.

She regained her composure, looking into a mirrored reflection in a window on the street. Somehow they always seemed off in a dream.

She studied him and brought back the ancient tongue. “Thank you Vice Chancellor Anders.” She turned to address Lord Ashen. “Pleasure to be making your acquaintance Lord Ashen. Unfortunately my stay as Herald was short, but I am grateful I was granted the opportunity for the time. My plans for it had barely taken shape.” There was little emotion on her face or in her voice as she said this. Her life had been thrown into so many whirlpools since than that it almost felt like a trivial time for her to think back on it.

<@284848346672136192> <@837236610684813342>

Evelyn’s jaw tightened while she kept an eye on things and listened. It took her a moment but she was able to relax her facial features. First, Socorra brought up to Ruka that it was General Zxyl who started on calling her Lady Erinos, even pointing him out. Socorra expressed dislike on being called as such.

Then when faced with the flames, she quickly switched and saying that it was alright as long it wasn’t ma'am. It says a lot about the person. It felt like Ruka was starting to be forgotten. Or ignored. Her emerald hues flashed a moment of anger before she calm herself down.

Then what was the whole point of this trouble? To make Ruka look bad? She just hoped that Jemel picked up on it. The whole situation felt wrong. Whether he did notice or not, Evelyn stepped up. Sometimes waiting can turn out to be bad.

“Ya-ir, sir. A moment?” She called out to him.

<@244244163002892288> <@1056685516441006091>

Jemel had, for the most part, been standing there while the others spoke amongst themselves. It wasn’t his place to interject, of course, but he had noticed the palpable tension between at least two of those present. And when the former Director continued to speak with the others gathered there, well, that all but confirmed it. Upon hearing Evelyn’s interjection, he gave her a knowing look before stepping aside to allow his Proconsul to step away should he agree to.

Ruka’s head turned immediately at the Captain’s call, having been trying to parse between Socorra’s comments about alternate timelines and how she was doing post-surgery, the doctor’s? questions, the Regent taking a call, Socks doing the telepathic conversation thing that all Force Users did when they stared off a little bit silently for seemingly no reason, and still generally watch everything happening around them. Her urgent tone and bothering to call to him when Wyvern had been what Qyreia liked to call uptight – which was saying something, coming from her – and formal shot dread down his spine.

Oh Ashla and Bogan what who was on fire what now was it Zuza what asteroid which god caxqette portal thing.

“Yeah, ay, absolutely.” He let go of Socorra’s arm, but not without carefully lowering it. “Catch up with you if I can, ay? And if not, uh– just. You look. Good.”

Great job. That totally wasn’t painful and totally covered all their everything that she didn’t even seem to know was real or not anymore.

“Guh,” the Mirialan anxiety-wheezed to himself, and then with a nod to the other two, did an about face and walked very quickly away to an empty bench for privacy, dusted with light snow. He knew Jemel and Evelyn would be on his heels and turned right back around to them, a now broken open look of concern and conflict on his scarred face, one hand settling on his saber hilt.

“What’s wrong?”

<@216702440140046336> <@1056685516441006091> <@141239709291511808>

Evelyn’s brows furrowed for a moment before she talked low enough just for the two of them.

“I may have overreacted. But I was not comfortable with how the interaction went down. Erinos mentioned General Zxyl was the ‘karker’ that started the ‘Lady Erinos’ and you two went over to discuss it then she changed her tune rather quickly instead of addressing the problem and it-”

Sent red flags.

Oh. Now I sound illogical.

Disgusting.

“Sir. I now believe I overreacted. Please accept my apology.” Evelyn sighed. She was foolish.

Jemel remained silent for a moment, considering what the wisest response was. He lifted a hand to his mouth to cough.

“I did notice some … tension,” he commented, offering Evelyn a sympathetic look when he noticed her sudden change in body language. “Perhaps Mister Tenbriss Ya-Ir would be able to clarify his feelings on the matter over drinks? If he’s willing, of course.”

He figured that removing himself from the group and having a moment to enjoy a nice drink would do them both some good.

<@244244163002892288>

“Interesting…” Aisha remarked at the runes. Very interesting indeed. While she was interested in learning more, with her work here done and the interaction between Zxyl and Ruka seemingly finished, the Zeltron-Hapan hybrid decided now was probably a good time for them to move on. She returned to a regular standing position, grabbing her helmet from the armored man beside her and lifting it above her head. She gave a little wink to Socorra as she slid it over her head and reengaged the atmospheric filter seal. Kasiya was cold.

The doctor hated that she couldn’t wear her usual black and copper corset dress. As the rest of the assembled group peeled off, the small woman looped her arm into the Regent’s. She began leading him off to some other encounter that the Dathomirian-Mandalorian would surely find foreign and uncomfortable, but scooped her free arm into Socorra’s at the very last second to drag her along with them. She gave a friendly little wave as they passed by Jemel, Evelyn, and Ruka.

After witnessing that tense exchange between two clearly charismatic men with differing opinions, she needed a stiff drink.

Socorra’s dark brows furrowed at Ruka’s sudden departure, her one kohl-rimmed eye blinking once, the new arctic ice blue one mechanically unfaltering.

Although awkward, it had been oddly comforting having him there for that short interaction. The woman debated if she had done something wrong, but Ruka’s newest guardians must be reminding him of how dangerous the Sith was. She certainly would have, after the night terrors and his visions.

Socorra wasn’t even going to drink with him at her side, out of respect. Her ruby lips formed a thin line.

Li bey aliha li bey.

The woman finally tore her two eyes away from him at the sudden arm yank and subsequent stumble. If Aisha hadn’t just been in her face…

“Wha–who, what? What you doing? Where we going? Better be karkin’ drink booth. And hot pot.”

“Nomtheless, I am sure your plans will come to fruition in different form,” Anders smiled at her, then approached a nearby stall. He tossed a few credits and retrieved three separate drinks for the three of them, only the finest in Kasiyan wine, marinated and zged likd the fine liquor it was. It was a gentleman and ladies drink, perfect for the occasion. “A toast to new and old acquaintances?”

Anders raised his glass.

<@284848346672136192>

“Kark it, Ro, would you get off me,” Tahiri’s voice sounded strained and squeaky, having the wind knocked out of her, as she had gone down hard, along with having her brother’s full weight on top of her. Elbowing him in ribs when he didn’t move, made him grasp and roll off of her quickly.

Quickly getting to her feet, she brushed herself off, looking over at Zuska as he happily chomped on the dropped fish ball. While Ro’s BB-8 droid just beeped, rolling over and bumping into his feet. Tahiri had been about to chastise the vornskr for not warning her, but seeing that he was having a treat that her brother had taunted him with and never him gave him an actual piece, made her just sigh and shake her head.

Feeling Brils’ Force presence draw closer, she turned her head towards him. A wide bright sharp toothed smile broke across her face, seeing his arms open for a hug. Bouncing forward, she in turn embraced her Zabrak godson, gently squeezing him return.

“It’s perfectly alright, yeh tungu'ko (godson)” replying to him in half basic and then slipping Togruti in. “Aye, the past few months have been quite busy. To say the least,” she audibly sighed at the last part, before smiling again and then turning slightly she gestured to the taller orange skinned Togruta with her. “Yes, this is my sa'daar (brother), Ro-Tahn. Oh and his BB-8 droid, Dunga.”

After standing up, he rubbed the sore spot in his ribs, where his sister had struck him. Though seeing the newcomer, he mostly forgot about the pain, and flashed his own cocksure wide grin. Heartily taking the offered arm and not even resisting one bit as he was pulled into a single armed embrace. Chuckling, as he pulled away, keeping his one hand on the young Zabraks shoulder, quickly studying him for a moment, “So Hiri, this is the young Bril Teg Arga?”

Smiling, he heartily smacked the young Zabrak on the back, “Well now, I’ve heard quite a bit about you. All good things, I promise.” Winking at Tahiri, before turning back to Bril, bowing his head in respect, “Joking aside my friend, it is an honor to finally meet you.”

<@1056685516441006091>

The corner of her mouth twitched a little, but it didn’t form into a smile entirely. Oh, well, she tried. Alaisy ran a gloved finger over the edge of the glass as Anders looked towards Lord Ashen and swiped it over her Assassin’s datapad. It would’ve been too easy for a vendor to take out a trio of contentious beings in one fell swoop. She figured this meeting would’ve probably created a cloud of darkness around them like no other.

When his crimson eyes returned their gaze she toasted and took a sip. Dry, rich and quite nice after a mildly spicy meal. <@284848346672136192>

Mikhail approached the seats with the others, still warily lingering. He waited for the other men to sit before seating himself. A habit earned from one too many failed deescalations earning him a surprise in the form of a fist. The paranoid Arkanian lowered himself into his seat eventually, letting his can rest across his lap. His hands rested above it, loosely balled into fists. His quick eyes scanned the others, and those still approaching. How had he managed to get surrounded by this many people?

He glanced to Elly, waiting to see what she would recommend. Mentally, he made note of everyone here, their positioning, who their body favored turning to in conversation. Information that could at least appear to make him blend in to a group of them if necessary.

<@244244163002892288> <@301514304845381632> <@432543120635461643> <@216702440140046336> <@375384499770359819>

Anders took a sip of his glass, smacking his lips and mulling over the contents of the glass. The dark side took many things from those who wielded its power. It was often a double-edged sword, requiring sacrifice in return for its alluring power. Anders was glad in this instance the dark side had not collected its debt from him thus far and his taste buds had remained intact.

He shrugged. “I have had better, but I have also had worse. What does bring you both to Port Kasiya, if I may ask inquire as to the purpose of your visitation?”

<@188018248241905664> <@284848346672136192>

Her button-shaped nose wrinkled and her eyebrows lowered as she received yet another mind message. This one made her head pound. The tip of her tail curled. As if she was underwater and the pressure increased. It took her a second to recalibrate and adjust to Lord Ashen’s way of speaking.

He was gift shopping, of all things. In another universe, Alaisy would have been an excellent jeweler.

She turned back to the Chiss, peering at him with her glowing, electric-blue eyes, looking for any intentions on his well-proportioned face. Her voice had that smokiness to it and this time she spoke in Basic. “I made time free to introduce myself, however, I did not expect such fine company. Perhaps I can accompany Lord Ashen with his quest? I usually have an eye for shiny things.” She looked back at the deep dark eyes of Keibatsu. There was something about those pronounced cheekbones.

<@284848346672136192>

Anders had taken note that Alaisy had not fully answered his question. No Sith worth their salt freely introduced themselves without some further goal in mind.

He would have to keep an eye on this one. Nonetheless, she had been rather pleasant. Perhaps she could be a powerful ally in the future before inevitably betraying him?

That was, after all, the nature of the Sith.

Well, most Sith, anyways.

And of course, Lord Ashen was a master of the subtle word. He heard the words in his mind before seeing his mouth move.

“Ah, yes. Perhaps we can acquire something suitable together. Only the finest will do for the bride of a former Grand Master.”

<@284848346672136192>

As the three proceeded through the vendors, miscellaneous stands, and gathered people towards Erinyes’ position, Aisha took her opportunity. She unhooked her one arm from Zxyl’s, using that now-free hand to hit him in the center of the chest just hard enough that he’d feel it from behind the heavy beskar plating covering it.

“What the kriff was that?” she demanded to know.

The Regent of the Brotherhood turned his head downward in her direction, kind of taken aback at the outburst.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a hint of surprise.

“The pissing match with the Proconsul. Trying to prove you’ve got the bigger organ?” Even from behind their helmets, the Regent could tell the Zeltron-Hapan was glaring at home.

“No. Proconsul Ya-ir was expressing his opinion, I expressed mine in kind. That is all it was,” Bes'uliik responded frankly.

As the group passed by Tahiri and her group, the Mandalorian General looked at the Togruta briefly. He still hadn’t shared with his consort the circumstances regarding the reason or cause that led to the dark and otherworldly echo mimicking his every word. The things that had happened on Dathomir, like her lightsaber blade diving its way through his chest. If she happened to make eye-contact as they passed her by, he’d give her a simple nod. No words.

“Well, try to keep them to yourself,” Solon huffed, interlocking her arm again, “I don’t want your hard-ass ways ruining my chances to make new friends.”

“You got it…” Zxyl paused before a bit of uncharacteristic sarcasm “Boss.”

“That’s right! And don’t you forget it, mister.”

They’d be with Erinyes momentarily.

<@645466919415054357> <@141239709291511808> <@375384499770359819>

Elly flashed a smile to Sofila when offered an apple, motioning to the bowl of food she was already eating out of. When Tahiri and her brother crashed into the whole situation, Elly worked on some breathing. She was home, this was her turf. She had nothing to be anxious about.

When presented with a place to sit, she didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to rest and try and decompress. When the question of food choice was asked, Elly shrugged

“I’m a fan of this,” she motioned to her bowl. “I can grab some for everyone if you’d all like?” She offered <@244244163002892288> <@432543120635461643> <@375384499770359819> <@1056685516441006091>

“Extra eyes and company would be welcomed.” He paused, his gaze shifting from <@188018248241905664> to Anders. There was a litany of titles that followed Muz’s name, and yet that was what the Chiss chose to repeat. Once could be forgiven, even if the man did move with a noble’s affectation, and should know better. Was it a play, a challenge, however small? Had Anders forgotten to disengage that part of himself?

Muz had been content to defuse the situation, but if the Chiss wanted to fence, then he could oblige. He had experience in spades, be it with words or blades.

“[Since you did not know…]” The ur-Kittât resonated strongly as it echoed through his mind and then his ears. Muz let an eyebrow raise slightly as he tilted his head downward, the smile somehow predatory. Perhaps it was the teeth, perhaps it was the eyes.

“There are no **former* Grand Masters.*”

If it wasn’t for the smile, Anders might had been somewhat concerned. However, this was simply the nature of the dark side. It fed on competition regardless what shape it took. If Muz was challenging him, then he was all too happy to oige in his own way.

“My apologies, Lord Ashen. It was a simple slip of tbe tongue, nothing more. However…” Anders then smirked. “If you do not wish to be known as a former Grand Master, I would highly recommend you have a conversation with Dacien Victae. As it currently stands, he is sitting on your throne.”

<@284848346672136192> <@188018248241905664>

Muz audibly laughed.

The Chiss either understood completely or not at all. Either way, he had nerve, and that counted for something. Pravus would have murdered the inquisitor on sight for the slight, the mere confusion between rank and position, let alone ignore the power of the Star Chamber. Even Telaris would have made him an example, a warning written in gore.

Anders was either very lucky or very learned to know that was not Muz’s way. That he refused to waste lives that could be spent in more productive ways. And for what? The Chiss did not stand in the way of his plans. He posed no threat to those he loved, so his claws would remain sheathed.

Ego? He had no care for ego. He was what he was, whether they chose to see it or not. Ignoring it was at their own peril.

That he would not kill for so light an offense would prove weakness to the Sith, so perhaps it was to prove power? He had already proven his power at Antei. At Korriban. At Stheno, Sepros, Nfolgai, Khar Delba, Dromund Kaas, Ziost, on hundreds of planets, in thousands of battles. He had no need to prove it yet again here.

To teach a lesson? Ah, yes. He could. What lessons he could teach, mapping the demarcation between potential and power. But that was not the Sith Way, their lessons came only when paid for in blood, yet another stumbling block inherent in the doctrine that they inherited. One that kept the Brotherhood from…

He sneered silently. It had dragged him into its game, again. He had wasted too much time and thought on the matter already.

Muz let his face grow serious for a moment, leaning in. “I left that **cursed* chair in the smouldering dust.” He let the words sink in before continuing. “*He can have it.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. He tilted his head as he straightened, watching the inquisitor digest that fact, to see which category he actually belonged to: lucky or learned. Useful or not.

<@188018248241905664>

The laugh was calculated, she didn’t flinch. Alaisy pondered what chair they were actually talking about. There were so many decorated, destroyed, or abandoned chairs out there. What did it matter? She couldn’t care less about sitting down. She was the hands-on type. Chairs, thrones, and things to sit on were all a waste of time and grating to her nerves. Let Anders have it, indeed. If it was up to her she’d toss every chair right out into space, force everyone to look up at her as they would have to stand.

The tall woman tried to look away from both Sith, lest she would have a fit of laughter herself. Very unhealthy if she decided to let go now. Her cheeks hurt from holding back. “Lovely, let us make the most of time and find something utterly fitting for your esteemed bride.” She stuck to an aristocratic tone, trying not to be antagonistic.

<@837236610684813342>

The laugh did not catch Anders by surprise, not in the slightest. He’d read Muz’s dossier and seen his viewpoint on many aspects of the Force.

Wasteful.

That was the word that came to mind when Muz thought of the Sith. Still, his words intrigued Anders to some extent, and Alaisy too if her stifled reaction was anything to go by.

She was terrible at hiding it.

“Indeed. Only the best will be fitting for the bride of Lord Ashen,” Anders gestured for them to proceed.

“I rather respect that decision, Lord Ashen. It shows insight and maturity, aspects which are sorely lacking in today’s universe. What use is power if it is not spent being put to proficient use in the galaxy? What say you, Miss Tir'eivra?”

<@284848346672136192>

Anders’ words assumed much. Everyone saw their own ideas as the most useful. What would her ideals matter to them? Time to answer a question, with a question. She gritted her teeth. Alaisy hated the words she was about to spill. So political of her.

She peered at the Chiss’ red eyes, wanting to burn the blue of her own eyes into them with her piercing look. “What is this proficient use of power, Vice Chancellor?”

<@284848346672136192>

Anders felt her gaze digging into his skull like a drill upon duracrete. Yet, he remained unperturbed like solid steel.

“A proficient use of power, my dear, is to bring justice to a galaxy that is deprived of it. There are many existing among us lacking in understanding of their actions. Through power, order, and retribution, we bring stability.”

<@284848346672136192>

Alaisy crossed her arms. “Stability? And then what? It simply swings the pendulum from one side to the other.” She almost hissed as she said the words, laying emphasis on the ‘s’. “Fear and chaos and change. They push evolution further, bring a boot down on everyone, and crush them with it until you distill life’s essence out of it.” A smirk formed on her lips. “Decay is inevitable, you need to be one step ahead of it at all times. Adaptation, transformation, and fire!” She said the last word in ur-Kittat.

<@284848346672136192>

So, ‘learned’ he was, perhaps even useful. Good.

Muz half smiled as he walked with the pair, his eyes sliding across the offerings of the booths they passed. The scent of spiced seafood reached them, moving behind the roasted overtones of some sort of grain based alcoholic beverage.

“Entropy…” Muz spoke, slowly, letting the words growl from his throat for a moment. “…only **seems* inevitable.” They paused, taking in the scents. He closed his mouth, letting his thoughts deliver to them directly. *Transmutation, evolution, conversion. These are but concessions for those which have given up their drive in exchange for comfort. It was for the best, despite any mild discomfort. They were not for general consumption.

Stability? He shook his head, a wry smile playing around his lips. As much of a lie as Peace.

<@837236610684813342>

Alaisy’s eyes lit up as she ran by each word Lord Ashen let out a thousand times. She knew his words to be true to some degree, her own experiments had proven that to her already. Beating back entropy, she had done the physical part of it. But the spiritual and mental pieces were universes apart. She accepted his answer, it gave her faint hope that she was on the right track.

“Lord Ashen, could I confide in you to have a look at some of my past trials and experiments? Only the parts that will not waste your time of course.” She was cautious to pick each word well and say it in the old tongue. “The Vice Chancellor is of course welcome to it as well.” Her voice was tinged with passion, less formal and more pure and raw.

“The pearls over there, they are authentic.” She pointed at the black shimmering baubles in the tiniest shells they had on display.

<@837236610684813342>

“Of course. I am most intrigued by your experimentations, Miss Tir'eivra,” Anders finished speaking in the ancient Sith language before taking note of the pearls Alaisy had pointed out.

“Ah, yes. These pearls, I believe, were acquired by fishermen off the coast from the Western Frostlands. They are exquisite, if I do say so myself.”

<@284848346672136192>

Certainly. Muz was curious as to her definition of trials and experiments. Alchemy, most likely. More people delved into that arte than the rites of antiquity. Not that it was particularly more accessible than some of the more occult practices, but they had a tendency to have results more immediately tangible, and inherently more satisfying as a result.

Usually.

He took a few steps toward the booth, the bits of treasure darkly reflecting the lights of the festival like some sort of black mirror, the shadowed reflections of others passing by glimmering against his own eyes. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets. He tilted his head, touching them with more than his eyes, weighing the options. Concentrated nature, raw and beautiful, much like Ashia was to him.

He decided on a pack of the raw precious gems, reaching within his jacket to produce a stack of credits for the vendor. She would prefer the pearls themselves more than any jewelry they would have constructed out of them ahead of time. If she wanted jewelry, custom was the order of the day, and Gilmarin still was under his wing. Secreting away the treasure, his fingertips fell upon the crystal of his flask, the runes carved heavily around the throat. He debated for a moment, then decided better of it. Perhaps in a moment or three.

You both have a good eye. Muz declined his head a degree for a heartbeat. I appreciate that.

<@188018248241905664>

Aisha was shot a dirty look from Socorra as well but only because she’d been yanked and now acting escort. A grumbly, gravelly growl escaped her throat. At least she could see the booze vendors nearby.

“Drinks this way,” she said, the R of the word rolled expertly. She yanked the pair in turn, a slight use of the Force propelling it. There was now a mission, after all.

A wave of ideas flooded Alaisy’s mind as she organized all of the studies she needed to have crosschecked. It took her a moment. She peered from the stall back to Muz and inclined her head. “I will make the preparations.”

“And, thank you. We do our best.” She looked towards <@837236610684813342> and smiled.

Muz nodded at the notion. A moment later, a wordless tinge of emotion floated to him. His brow furrowed a tiny degree as he dissected it, tracing the signature back. Muz turned back toward the pair, his eyes affording him the chance to scan the crowd without most noticing immediately. There. Socorra shot him a glance from between the others as the Regent and his consort carried on around her, the eye contact enough to confirm it for him.

Drink? The idea flew silently directly to her.

Please.

He raised a hand, beckoning her forward as he stepped back between <@837236610684813342> and <@188018248241905664>. Tell me… He turned his attention back to them as he saw her move away from the crowd she had found herself in. Have you met my last Herald?

He reached inside his jacket, his hand retrieving a silver and crystal flask, the symbol of Naga Sadow embossed large among other runes. Caught on the ridge of it, a Dantari tumbled loose from the pocket, the crystal slipping toward the ground as his mind wrapped around it and raised it back to his hand. He looked at it accusingly for a moment, then back to the flask. They were going to need a few glasses.

Zxyl carried on as Socorra distinctly turned away from the direction of Erinyes they were initially walking in, altering course to Muz, Anders, and Alaisy.

This should be fun…

Aisha frowned a little at the notion of not being able to share drinks with her fellow Zeltron after the two had started a new, yet to flower bond over it, but could understand if Socorra was a little miffed. She ignored the dirty look she got from the Praetor to the Grand Master, not letting it bring her down. She wasn’t sorry… But she was happy at the prospect of drinks anywhere.

As the three approached, arms interlocked, it appeared for a moment as though Aisha was queen bee. She wasn’t, but in that moment, it felt good to have Erinos on one arm and Bes'uliik on the other - no matter how fleeting and limited it was. She unhooked from them as they finished their approach, allowing a little more distance between their three bodies for better interaction.

“Ashen. Inquisitor. Alaisy,” the Mandalorian General addressed the three. Just as before during his conversation with Ruka, a dark and otherworldly echo spoke alongside his helmet-modulated voice. Something that was not there the last time he interacted with any of them. He nodded to each, ending with his attention turned to the other former Herald of the Brotherhood. While his friend and ally Rian Taldrya currently occupied the post, Alaisy had held it prior and the two had shared time on The Council.

<@141239709291511808> <@284848346672136192> <@837236610684813342> <@188018248241905664>

“…oh,” was all the reaction Ruka seemed to give at that, beyond the slightest squint at sir. “Oh, ay, okay.”

Nothing was on fire.

Yet.

He mentally shook himself, and physically too, a quick shake of the head. No, no, no bad thoughts. He needed to not do that. Things were fine. It was fine.

“No problem, Captain,” the Proconsul said, waving one hand that now fell off his blade. But then Jemel added in that he’d picked up tension too and oh great. “It’s…complicated,” he finished lamely. The stressed look was back. “Me and Socorra have. Stuff. And she’s…not all there now, and– I guess it’s fine as long as it’s not ma'am so I’m the asshole–”

He cut off and rubbed at his face.

“Anyway. I don’t drink,” this was said more pointedly to Jemel, “and we’re on duty, but if you mean something to drink and want me to try to explain for security or somethin’ that’s fine.”

<@1056685516441006091> <@216702440140046336>

More company and of such high esteem. Alaisy felt a bit in over her head as the company of three approached them. One she had seen before, simply by his helmet. Thankfully she remembered helmets as faces, distinct and with enough character to be an ego, especially Mandalorian ones.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Regent, nice seeing you here. I wish we had more time in the past. Perhaps we can catch up.” She studied them carefully, giving the others a chance to introduce themselves as well.

<@284848346672136192> <@837236610684813342> <@141239709291511808>

“Hells yeah!” Nejj answered excitedly, breaking from his uncharacteristic silence. He was always hungry.

“Oh, I gotta ‘monster’ something ya can eat, sugah,” purred a syrupy voice from slightly up the path, just a few steps ahead of them. A figure stood there in what might be described as cold-weather lingerie, or perhaps more generously a burlesque style stage outfit, short black hair and ruby lips and nails, one hand on a cocked hip. Brown eyes were slitted in their direction, and one look at them and, to both Zeltrons, one taste of the violent emotions permeating the air like the winter-snap promise of an avalanche about to fall, belied the intent behind the teasing words. “Now you …you I’d give some credit. But him, he’s gonna choke on it.”

<@645466919415054357> <@185936112441622529>

Nejj’s eyes widened in recognition before settling into a half-lidded confident gaze.

“Miss Satsi, always a pleasure!” he exclaimed before leaning in conspiratorially. “I’ll have you know I rarely choke.”

“Um, duh,” a soprano voice said behind them both. “I thought you’d never ask!” Behind Nejj, a pink-skinned Zeltron with flaming red hot bob shimmered into existence, having been his shadow as he had been Erin’s. And acting as if she had been a part of their conversations the entire time.

“Sounds great!” Minnie said brightly while mostly watching Bril go and talk to the two Togruti, smiling a bit at how they all hugged so gamely and trying to kick away some simmering green ugly feelings and nervousness. Bril had mentioned his godmother, and she definitely wanted to meet the woman, but that was still a Sith.

Jediit.

As they’d passed through the crowd they’d seen more and more. The fraking Regent of the Brotherhood had just walked by. A former Grand Master. Anders and this Draca boy from what her Kitty had said. Their own Proconsul was here, a note of her oath. Who knew what else?

But Mikhail was right there obviously freaking out, Cole was tense, and Elly was taking deep breaths and doing good, so! She lifted her chin and ignored the horror prickling her spine as best she could, grateful for her vambraces. The tiny Nautolan beamed at Elly.

“That sounds great! And that hot cider! Whaboutyou, Mikky? Sound good? Warm food and warm drinks are the beeeeest, not the Mando kind tho, the spice kills me, I die.”

She clapped her hands together, smiling as Sofila shared apples and folks settled in, kinda. Her own little lambs. She could do that much.

“You wanna tell me the way while y'all hold down seats? Me and Bril can go get some for everybody after I say hi to Tahiri. And then y'all can just chill a bit from all the social.”

<@160141735354171394> <@301514304845381632> <@1056685516441006091> <@375384499770359819> <@432543120635461643> <@216702440140046336>

The smirking mask of Satsi’s scarred face showed off the barest curl of disgust.

“Travel in packs, don'tcha frakkers,” she remarked, and smiled an expression that was not a smile at Nejj. “Oh, boyo, I’ll do more than make you choke. That’s a promise.”

<@141239709291511808> <@645466919415054357>

At Satsi’s words, Nejj hazarded a backwards glance where he saw it wasn’t just chills that were multiplying.

Huh. Neat.

He accepted the new arrival as naturally as breathing before returning his focus to his long-standing “project”.

He nodded sagely as she finished before offering his own wisdom. “It’s as the ancient masters teach us: we are not to deny our nature, but embrace it and all its passions.”

They still never did and never will teach that.

“It’s so good to see you embracing your fire! I still have remedies to help you temper it when needed, if ever you ask.”

Well, wasn’t this a surprise?

The Regent himself had, once again for what must have been the thousandth time during his tenure on the Council, decided to grace the Taldryan homeworld with his presence.

“Regent,” Anders gave a small nod more out of courtesy than anything else. “I trust you are well? How is our little friend doing? Terribly, I hope.”

That friend was the Collective General that had been partially responsible for the destruction of the Eternal.

Anders’ eyes then peered over to his fellow Sith. Not Alaisy, but Socorra. Her armor was half-covered in Sith runes.

“Fascinating…” Anders couldn’t help but comment. “Oh, I do apologise. I was merely admiring the craftsmanship on your armor.” He wondered if Alaisy might had seen it too.

He hd out a hand to Socorra. “I am High Inquisitor Anderson, Vice-Chancellor of the Taldryan Republic. A pleasure to meet you again, Lady Socorra.”

<@284848346672136192> <@260640060775464960> <@141239709291511808>

Minnie received an emotionless expression for a few moments, eyes completely hidden by shades, likely due to the nickname. He spoke clearly, mechanically. “I heard they had good cider here. Preferably with some form of alcohol in it.”

His thumbs gently brushed against his cane, the only really indication of movement from him, even his breaths seemed shallow enough to barely move his jacket.

“That mean you’re gonna stand still for me to punch you?” she scathed. “Because that’s what’s really gonna make me feel good.”

Visibly, the woman cracked her knuckles, revealing the flew of one muscular, scarred arm, and took a step forward. The look she shot to Erinyes and the other walking candy apple was one that invited, if only to a massacre instead of anything so pleasant as to match the way she groaned her threat.

Just then, however, as if a higher power was watching out for the monk (like light shining out his own ass), a young voice cut through the crowd, “MOMMAH! Mommah, where’d yah go?”

Satsi’s murderous expression blinked away smoothly, and even her emotions flicked like a switch, all smiles and peppermint and sugarcane.

“Over here, baby!” she hollered, cupping a hand. Seconds later a small form blurred out of the throng, an obviously Force-enhanced run sending long, silky black pigtails flying behind the girl. She looked like she could have been a copy of Satsi, if Satsi had ever been young and never been scarred. “Mommah, me an’ Bunny wanna get apples but some frakkah buyed ‘em all. I goooottah get her one!”

“Priorities, kiddo,” the woman returned, patting her daughter’s head and mussing her hair. The eight-year old was barefoot, band-aided, and wore what might have been an attempt at festivity tacked on over ripped shorts and a tank top, a little red cape. There was a butterfly knife in her pocket, and a butterfly necklace dangling down her chest. She turned brown eyes on the trio across from her mother, looking curiously, but not long. “Didya see who bought em?”

“No.”

“Shame, coulda taken some back. Just find another stall, babygirl. There’s gonna be more.”

“Ugh,” groaned the child, but didn’t complain more. She just lifted her scraped chin like it was a challenge. “Okay, I will!”

“Then go on. Mama has to do a murder.”

The girl gave her a look.

Two pairs of identical brown eyes went to the speaking Zeltron. The littler of the two seemed bored and antsy to be on her way, a mission for her lady love clear in her mind. She hopped in place and said, “Okay'mgoin'byyye,” before leaping clear over a stall and disappearing into the crowd.

Satsi just sighed.

“Shadows, I can’t keep up with her,” she muttered, and then looked back to Erinyes. “You. You’re funny. Don’t worry, sugah, ain’t here to maim yer folk. Just that one,” she pointed right at Nejj, “since he thinks our moods are so strong. Just gotta oblige.”

“OOoh!? Aw, come on Minne! Spices aren’t that bad! They are ah-mazing! But, what’s a cider!? I will try it! I am very-” She blinked at Mikhail when he mentioned that it can come with some form of alcohol in it.

Oh no.

She was trying to behave better.

Especially how she acted in public last time. Oh. Kist. She never did apologize to Cole how handsy she got during that. Warmth started to crept her cheeks in the memory of it before she cleared her throat, shoved that back down, and-

“Okay! SO!” Sofila started to get the apples that are in the container out, one by one, onto the table that Cole had found earlier for them to sit down on. She listed and named each of them. Now, how did this ditzy Miralian lost her knife, four times this morning alone, remember each flavor? Who knows. Some of them were basics. Some were odd such as Blackberry flavored caramel with jalapeno…

<@301514304845381632> <@160141735354171394> <@432543120635461643> <@244244163002892288> <@1056685516441006091>

Tahiri had looked around, glad that her flesh was already red so that the slightly embarrassing blush from being almost crushed right in front of her godson and some of her other friends. She noticed the Regent walk by, giving her a nod. The Togruta quickly returned the nod and gave him a quick smile, realizing that since she had gotten caught up with her brothers mission, she hadn’t had time to send him a invitation to visit and possibly duel at some point, along with letting him know any info she had on the Nightsisters and what she knew about Magicks she could send him at any time. After this, I’ll send him a message.

As Bril and her brother talked for a moment, and Zuska sat beside the Zabrak’s side await to be petted, she looked over at the table, recognizing Sofila, Elly and Cole. She smiled and waved at all of them, while also nodding to the two she didn’t recognize.

“Well, Bril, I hope we didn’t interrupt anything,” she smiled again, reaching down to scratch under the vornskr’s jaw. “Just wanted to say hi and check in with you. Ro and I don’t want to crash the party you’ve got going, though if I could just say hi to some teammates, then we’ll go explore more of the expo and catch up with you later.”

She felt bad about inviting herself and Ro into the group, so thinking it best to hold off, maybe just say hi to everyone and then meet up with everyone at a later time would be fine. There was still a pit in her stomach from what had happened during the Scimitar temple mission. Even though Golden Envoy Ander’s had invited the team for a respite, she knew that she was the odd one out. A Sith is never trusted.

<@260640060775464960> <@1056685516441006091> <@301514304845381632> <@216702440140046336> <@244244163002892288> <@160141735354171394> <@432543120635461643>

Socorra. She memorized the name as her electric-blue eyes scanned the runed armor. She pondered what caused the lost eye, or what the function of all these runes were. Alchemical? Ritualistic? Perhaps a Sith legend?

She inclined her head at the Herald that came before her own time. “Socorra, a pleasure.” This time Alaisy was conservative with titles as it had created some tension with Lord Ashen before, coming from Anders. She also withheld her hand. If it were up to her, she would forego such business etiquette. A bow, or nod was a much less invasive form of respect.

<@284848346672136192> <@141239709291511808> <@260640060775464960>

“Hi there!” Minnie said, standing back up and bouncing the few steps over. Tahiri was about her height. Fraking finally. “Psshsaw, not interrupting at all, honeies! Welcome to join us if ya wanna, okie? Say hi to whoever. We were just gonna get some food and hot ciders!”

That said, she took a breath and stuck out her hand for a clasp or shake, not sure what the other woman would do.

“I’m Minnow! I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Bril’s…” seafoam eyes darted over to the Zabrak, brows lifting for him to fill in however he wanted.

<@1056685516441006091>

“Miss Satsi would never actually hurt me!” The aghast voice was surprisingly sincere. “She knows I wish only for her success.”

The Zeltron pulled a “hold my beer” and handed his drink to Erinyes, seeing that hers was empty and she was down to one.

<@244244163002892288> <@141239709291511808>

“Ooh, I do like you,” Satsi said of Erinyes, looking her up and down in a manner that could’ve been dissecting or imagining fewer clothes. Maybe both. “Throwing him right to me? That’s a good girl,” the last was all but a purr, and with quite the lick of lips thrown in too before she turned her attention back to her second best own personal hell in humanoid form. “Delusional ain’t cute, Nejjy. I should know. Lucky for you I feel more like makin’ sure my kiddo has fun here than having fun myself. Keep my name outtah yer mouth, or I’m gonna cut it out.”

<@185936112441622529>

There was a lot going on suddenly. The sound of a scream forced her free hand to slide toward a blade, and in recognizing the voice of Sammy, it twitched a little as well. No doubt that momma was nearby.

There was still time to evacuate.

Nejj pouted. Not an expression akin to one or even a facsimile. He legitimately pouted that Satsi was rejecting his help.

“As you wish, Miss Satsi,” he intoned with a nod. For now.

“My life,” Bril said proudly in Togruti that hadn’t been used in some time. More plainly in Basic for her, he added, “My girlfriend. Minmin, this is my godmother, Tahiri, and her brother.”

Minnie smiled.

A hooded figure entered the market. He moved cautiously around scoping out the various vendors before settling on one whom he thought would cater to his particular…appetite.

“Greetings, I see you have a wide variety of delicious dietary dishes,” Kamjin began before leaning in closer. “Would you happen to have anything that comes from the Forest Moon?” He asked using a popular code phrase for those in the business of selling Ewok meat.

Elly put her hands together, ready to spout out directions to where to get food and drink, until Minnie got pulled away. She shrugged. There would be plenty of time to get more food. The night was still young. She watched Sofila set out a variety of apples and shook her head no. “Thank you, Sofila but I’m good with what I’ve got, especially if I might have more already.”

She looked to her side at Mikhail and frowned, seeing how uncomfortable he seemed. She wondered if it was the excess amount of people or if it was a certain person. She might not ever know.

She turned her head back to Sofila as realization dawned on her. “Wait, you’ve never heard of cider? I thought you would’ve, seeing as it’s made of, well,” She motioned to Sofila’s pile of fruit, “Apples” <@1056685516441006091> <@160141735354171394> <@244244163002892288> <@375384499770359819> <@432543120635461643>

Cole slooowly looked toward Sofila again before taking a sip from his water bottle.

Yeah that added up.

A message arrived on Kam’s datapad.

“` Jinkam, just a reminder that the large market event on Kasiya is open today. While you’re there, if you would kindly pick up a bushel of apples for the Grand Master I would greatly appreciate it. Also some ewok steaks if there are any imports.

-Socorra Erinos, Praetor to the Grand Master ”`
A split second later another arrived.

“` Kamjin, my apologies. The address was a mistype. Please ignore.

-Socorra ”`

The promenade area was much more lively than Race was accustomed too. He did his best to keep to the shadows but it was hard with all the people milling about the area. The temperature had begun to drop rapidly after sundown and though the square had some portable heaters around the bite from the wind still seemed to penetrate everything. A few flakes of snow had begun to fall as he finished a flight of local beer samples.

A vibration coming from his Legions Eye notified him of an incoming message. The item was quite simply a stroke of genius and he wondered how he had ever gotten along with out it now. Part comlink, part computer it had become an invaluable tool in his arsenal. But as the message was both placed in front of him and the text to speech kicked in it was more bad news. Rest and relaxation time was over as he was being called back to Arx on official yet unofficial business.

“Guess playtime is over.” He said to the bartender as he paid his tab. “Maybe, next time it won’t be so damned cold.”

He doubted that but said it anyway. He turned and made a quick pace back to the spaceport. Another mission awaited him.

Stepping closer to Anders, Socorra extended her hand to return his shake. “Likewise, Inquisitor.” Her accent imparted a distinct cadence to the words, underlining that Basic might not be her primary, or even secondary language.

Although their principles were at odds there was a mutual respect as well as wariness; both were Seekers and dealt in intelligence, and when necessary, the less…or more…pleasant side of interrogation.

Her arctic-blue eyes, one a cybernetic, shifted to the tall Human hybrid beside Anders. Though not a Seeker, the Arcanist emitted a presence that not-so-subtly hinted at similarities in their dark undertakings. However, Socorra was already well-versed in the former Herald’s dossier.

“Alaisy,” she responded in kind to the greeting, her accent inflecting the name uniquely. Rhyming with ‘daisy,’ it felt at odds with the woman’s demeanor and file, coyly so. She also noted the Battlemaster’s withheld hand, unlike the Chiss’.

“The pleasure is mine.”

The Sith sent a telepathic message as easily as breathing across the small space between them, her foreign tongue translating almost seamlessly into Basic.

You may have it back… for a price.

Socorra extended her natural, burn-scarred hand towards Alaisy, the most minute hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her ruby lips.

There was a slight frown in Alaisy’s sharp eyebrows. The mind message she received came in gently this time, it felt like the words were arranged in such a way that she would have no trouble understanding them. Very much unlike the overpowering words from Lord Ashen, or the pinprick, but good intentions of Erinyes.

She let out a soft sigh, both from relief and the unimportance of the message itself. Tir'eivra had no intention of taking back the title of Herald, she had passed it on to Rian. There were far more pressing matters to attend to, especially two years ago. Besides, who was this Socorra to barter with such a thing. A faint memory from the Herald archives reminded her that she too was Sith. They would either snatch a title away or fight for it in a display of power. But only if it served them well enough. This, Alaisy had no interest in, not now.

Her heeled boot made a short step backward as she corrected her posture. The cybernetic-eyed human had stretched out a hand before her. Her brows shifted from a frown to scrunching up.

The scarred hand may as well have been on fire right now. It took Alaisy at least a second or two to decide on the next course of action. Her eyes shifted away from Socorra, then back, and away again. The slight azure glow of them flickered on her upper cheeks from the blinking and shifting. She had been so careful to avoid a handshake and now she had received an invitation instead. What an utter scoundrel. She bit her lip with a fang.

Men, like the Vice Chancellor, are all business-like, with their distinct etiquette, she expected the handshake and she gave him one back with might behind it. From this person? No. Unexpected. This Socorra was not in formal attire or looked like a politician. The scars and presence showed pain and battle. But most of all it was clear that she had put them on display.

That smirk. It made her heart race. The anger made her feel breathless. Yet the invitation had to be met. Her tail almost coiled around her leg, before she recomposed herself.

The tall woman’s heavy boot stepped forward, making a distinct thump and clack on the duracrete. Alaisy’s electric-blue eyes looked down as imposingly as they could. Her smile was wicked and dangerous, like a predator. Her opera gloved hand stretched out to meet Socorra’s.

<@141239709291511808>

Turning towards the Nautolan, Tahiri gave her a bright welcoming smile. As the tall Zabrak finished the sentence in both Togruti and Basic, before introducing her and Ro. The Togruta looked between Minnow and Bril, the realization at the significance of the pairs relationship broadening her smile and bringing a bit of moisture to her vision.

“Well now. It is an honor and pleasure to meet you, Minnow,” she gently, and firmly grasped the woman’s offered hand within both of hers, while also giving her a small bow of respect. She wanted to pull her into a hug, but she wasn’t sure how the Nautolan would take that. Maybe by the end of all this, I’ll see if she’s a hugger.

“Oh ok. If you’re sure it’s ok for us to join. Sounds good with me, Ro-Tahn and I can help get food, if you’d like? Especially for everyone here,” she glanced over at the four others sitting at the table. “And since we’re joining the party, the foods on us. I insist.”

“Us?” Ro’s eyebrow shot up as he glance down at his sister, seeing her side glare, before then looking between the others. “Eh, ok sure, why not? We’d be happy to.”

“So, do you have an idea on what stall we’re getting food from?” Tahiri glared at her brother, sending him a telepathic message, “Ro, Behave.”

<@244244163002892288> <@1056685516441006091> <@301514304845381632> <@432543120635461643> <@160141735354171394>

The Mandalorian felt like the group had fallen apart just before getting some good drinks. A shame, but she was now really thirsty for some good drink after the molten ice drink. She had sensed some familiar signatures, but also some new ones and hoped they were here on good behaviour. Either way, she walked off to find some stand that had some strong drinks in bigger quantities then a small cup to sip from.

The firmness of Tahiri’s handshake made Minnow tense up ever-so-slightly, but the bubbly Nautolan attempted to pass it off as her giving the Togruta’s hand a squeeze in kind. Ever the observant partner, Bril moved one of his hands to rest on Minnow’s back in a subtle reminder that he was here, with her. Minnie’s smile deepened while holding Tahiri’s gaze.

“It’s an honor to meet you, too! And I have to thank you too, okie? Based on what he’s told me, if it weren’t for you, I likely never would have met Kitty. Oh. Bril! I meant Bril.”

Oh geez. Calling her Zabrak one of several pet names she’d chosen for him had become like second nature for her. But that wasn’t something Minnie wanted his freaking godmother to know! Especially when this was their first time meeting and …

Minnie dipped her head in a melodramatic display of defeat, the tips of her headtails heating up with a faint pink appearing amongst canary yellow skin.

Bril offered her a sheepish smile while rubbing her back a few times. Then, he turned his attention to Tahiri and Ro-Tahn.

“Nonsense,” he began, “You two just got here. Have a seat and feel free to talk amongst the others. I’m sure Tahiri would like to do some catching up.”

Bril had read the reports of his godmother’s recent mission, it seemed, and as such was aware of who had accompanied her on it. Although he wasn’t sure how close she had become to Cole and Sofila, he was able to deduce that there was some modicum of friendship there based on how many times she’d glanced in their direction. Not interested in taking no for an answer, Bril nodded to Ro-Tahn, patted Tahiri on the arm before kneeling down to give Zuska all the head pats and ear scritches.

“It’s good to see you, as well, my friend,” he said with a smile, using a similar voice he employed when speaking with Femi–who was currently sound asleep in the carrier worn across Minnie’s back.

Once that bit of business was done, he stood upright and took Minnie’s hand so they could fetch food and drinks for everyone. If Tahiri was insistent on covering the cost when they returned, he would just send her an invoice later.

<@244244163002892288> <@375384499770359819>

“Sounds good. Don’t worry, I work service, I can balance more bowls than y'all think,” Minnie said with a wink, and then looked to Elly who was about to go into a passionate apple explanation to Sofila – ohmigawd, JALEPENO caramel? Ewwwwww – and interrupted briefly, “Hey, uh, real quick, directions? Sorry I got excited.”

She smiled at the Human.

<@301514304845381632>

“Oh right,” the firrerreo said, circling back to directions. She pointed in the vague direction of Cortado’s stand. “Over that way is where you’ll find the food. His is the red stall with the black and red counter. If you can’t find it, just yell Cortado really loudly, and he’ll probably yell back.” she then pointed in the direction she was taking Mikhail. “And you’ll find the cider that way. They’ve got fresh fruit as well and a neon logo of an apple in a cup. I think everyone here wants hot cider but get some spiked cider for Mikhail”

Sofila gasped, “Whhhhat?! No kriffin way! It’s made out of apples?!” Her jaw dropped. What. How did she not know this?! It was good for her to be out and about. Cole even had introduced her to foods she never had and enjoyed.

Sofila quickly got Minnie’s attention after Elly gave directions, “No wwaaaaait, get me one and a spiked one!” She gave Cole a quick reassuring look that she was just going have one.

<@244244163002892288> <@432543120635461643> <@160141735354171394>

Minnie snapped a perfect AAF veteran salute, though it turned jaunty when she bounced in place and winked before tipping it off. “Aye aye, ma'am! You got it! Hey, good directions beeteedubs, visuals help. Alright, alright! Lots of food and some spikey ciders coming right up!You sit, enjoy! Let’s go, Kitty! BESH-RESK-BESH, Y'ALL!”

Looping her arm with Bril’s, she paused, having a thought. A quick, expert flick of the buckles and straps on him – very expert – to release the carrier on his chest resulted in the tiny Nautolan setting their precious Femi down in her little bubble on the table top. “Here you go, you can fawn over the baby while we’re gone. Just don’t let him chase her.” She pointed at Tahiri’s larger animal, then hugged Bril again so they could move away.

<@216702440140046336> <@375384499770359819> <@160141735354171394> <@301514304845381632> <@432543120635461643> <@1056685516441006091>

Smiling at both Minnow and Bril, Tahiri realized that she been a little tense the entire time. After her godson patted her arm, she relaxed a bit. Then Ro nodded and gently bumped her arm with his fist, helping her relax further, before he walked towards the table, “Hey, I’ll go with whatever, though I never look a gift bantha in the mouth.”

Shaking her head as she followed her brother towards the table and watched the Nautolan placed the carrier on the table, before leading Bril away to get the food and drinks. Giving Minnow a smile and a quick nod, laughing, “I’ll be sure Hadzuska behaves. He knows better, especially with friends pets. She’ll be in good hands, promise on my heart.”

She decided to stay quiet on paying, knowing her godson, he wouldn’t let her pay. Tahiri figured there’d be some way she’d pay him, and Minnow back later. Turning to the table, she looked for where to sit, while greeting the rest of the ensemble, “Hey Sofila, Cole, Ellisyn. I hope you all have been well. This is my little brother, Ro-Tahn Vang Drakon.” Turning to the one unknown young pale man, with the interesting kaleidoscopic blue scar sprawling down the right side of his face. “And I have not had the pleasure of meeting you yet. I’m Tahiri Drakon Night-Thorn de Morte Tarentae, but you can just call me Tahiri,” she decided to drop her middle name and her other title this time.

<@301514304845381632> <@432543120635461643> <@216702440140046336> <@160141735354171394> <@1056685516441006091> <@244244163002892288>

Anders felt a sudden jolt from his shoulder. His ears peered over to the sudden intrusion.

“Greetings, Buddy. I assume you have enjoyed your little venture?”

The little droid chirped in his ear and Anders felt disappointment radiate through his very being. It was a pity. He was rather enjoying the company of those around him. Alas, duty called.

“It pains me to have to leave, but I am afraid I have some business to attend to,” Anders gave a slight bow to the group. “I bid you all farewell.”

The moment Anders had left the group, he lowered the emotional front he placed on himself. Whatever was happening with the development of Karufr City had better be important enough to divert his attention away from creating powerful connections here at the Expo.

It wasn’t hard to find Draca. In an environment such as this, all you had to do was find the largest collection of ice cream stalls and he was likely to be nearby.

Draca had remained with the Exarch and his family as Anders had instructed. Good. The boy was loyal to a fault like that.

“Marick, Atyiru. I hope you do not mind if I take your escort through the expo away? I have matters I need to discuss with him.”

<@189568236201705472> <@244244163002892288>

<@284848346672136192> <@141239709291511808> <@260640060775464960> <@188018248241905664>

“Ander-dander! Just in time,” Atyiru pirouetted around, now with less ice cream and more…face paint? Her hands had paint too, and Draca was holding a rock. And a paintbrush.

What in the galaxy.

“We were just making presents, you see!”

“I made one for the hungry man,” Kirra declared quite delicately. Her stone was purple, with amber bubbles and runic stripes in white that the Chiss recognized as, perhaps, Nightsister markings. She held it out to Anders. “Can you give it to him, Mister Son?”

Marick stood quietly by, gently rocking a sleeping Weyne, who, four towels later, was mostly clean.

Anders thought he showed great restraint ignoring the second of Atyiru’s granted nicknames to him in one evening. When he inspected Draca, the young nan sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

Anders couldn’t help but smile as he gently rubbed Kirra’s hair. Amidst the chaos of their lives, it was good to see his protégé happy. Moments like these were few and far between.

“I certainly could, young one. Unfortunately, I am needed elsewhere, so I may not encounter him again. Young Draca, however, may be able to do it for you. Is that not right, Draca?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Draca replied with a thumbs up.

“Thank you, Draca,” the young girl said with solemn politeness, one true blue eye and one true-seeing blind white peering up at the Zabrak with a seriousness far beyond her age. She offered the stone out to him instead. “Take care of it, just so. And listen to yours! They have secrets for you. But you have to listen. Listening is most important.”

She nodded once, waiting for confirmation.

“I will,” Draca held out his little finger to her. “Pinky promise?”

“Why, sir,” the little Hapaluki said, as though aghast, staring pointedly at his extended finger. “I am not old enough to be married, and besides, have my intended. But you are very nice, of course.” Instead, she patted his shoulder, handing over the rock. “Take care, try not to be a lettuce.”

With that she looked back to her mother and father, the former beaming and smiling a secret smile while Marick only blinked, nonplussed by such of his wife’s shenanigans or his daughter’s absorption of them.

But since Draca was looking, he did decide to employ the pranks in which he had been recently tutored and narrowed his eyes at the Zabrak lad just a bit.

What in the name of the Living Foece just happened?

Draca stood there, blinking, looming back and forth between his still extended pinky, Kirra, her parents, and Anders. He felt Marick’s eyes narrow onto him.

Draca looked at Anders for answers, but the Chiss shrugged, smiling at him, no doubt enjoying his apparent confusion.

Draca sighed. It must be an Arconan thing.

Wait… isn’t she just a child? What did she mean she had her intended?

No. Do not install another Clan’s culture.

This might be something he asks Melissa about, or maybe even Ruka if he could catch him before he left.

Kirra was peering at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, and narrowed her tiny eyes slightly herself.

“Rude to judge,” she said, and then skipped over to her parents and made grabby hands for her sleeping baby brother. Marick dutifully bent down enough so she could ever so gently kiss his dual-colored hair without disturbing him, and then took her mother’s hand.

“Toodles, Draccles! Goodnight, Anders! We’re off to tuck the yams in and dream of deep things,” Atyiru sang, waving forcefully at the pair. “And remember, dear! Listen to your rocks!”

Marick just nodded once to each man, then turned and quietly turned down the path, his wife and daughter bright beams of light skipping along at his side.

“What just happened?” Draca asked as soon as they were out of sight.

“I would like to say it is Arconans bring Arconans. However, I believe more accurate to say ot is Atyiru’s influence on display.”

Draca shook his head, filing away his questions for Ruka later if he saw him. “So, what’s up? You said you needed me?”

“Indeed. Something urgent has made itself known and I am required outside of Port Kasiya.”

“Oh,” Draca folded his arms across his chest. “Well, wed best get going then…”

Anders held a hand up to stop him. “Your presence will not be necessary. I want you to remain here and keep watch over the city whilst I am gone.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?” Draca asked.

“My boy, do you think me so incapable of looking after myself that I need a Jedi to escort me?”

Draca’s eyes widened. “What? No, I just…”

Anders placed a hand on Draca’s shoulder. “Young man, you are a fine Jedi and an even finer individual. Words cannot describe how truly proud of you I am. You do not need to worry about me. I was, after all, the one who taught and trained you.”

“I know…” Draca relented, beaming at the praise and pride Anders had for him.

“You will be fine,” Anders reassured. “Besides, I have Buddy accompanying me.”

The little droid chirped happily on Anders’ shoulder.

“What say you to trying to meet with young Bril before I depart,” Anders asked, knowing Draca was as curious as he was as to Bril’s journeys across the stars.

“Yeah,” Draca nodded his head. “Sounds good.”

Some would assume her gloves in the cold weather were put away so she could eat and drink, and while that was partially correct, the truth was much more interesting. The Sith had learned a long time ago that much information could be gleaned from the memories of objects, like Ashen’s heirloom ring that had imparted a century of history from a brief touch.

Socorra was not touchy-feely, while sober at least, having blasted many a person in the face with a fistfull of Terror…or just simply a kick to the shins as Ruka had pointed out. But where it was expected to meet and greet, on the behalf of either a Consul or a Grand Master or some sort of mission, personal comfort was tossed aside.

As the fanged hybrid towered and bent down to meet the challenge, the shorter female stood her ground despite the unexpected and intimidating apocalyptic sound of demon horses hitting the pavement. The gloved hand before her was about as easy as taking candy from a baby. Socorra’s response was not a politician’s aggressive over-hand power grab or a meaty Mando greeting; her hand cupped precisely and fingers intimately curled around the palm in such a way that it made it hard to disengage too early. Her breath quickened as she stole the glove’s memories and blue met blue, both challenging the other.

A drink was suddenly the last thing the woman was thinking about.

Again the reaction was different than she had calculated it to be. The handshake was very gentle where Alaisy expected it to be strong. Her alchemical skin shifted, refreshing her sense of touch and maximizing her sensitivity.

Socorra’s stare did not betray any intent. Yet Alaisy could not shake the thought that this whole act was happening for a reason.

Tir’eivra did not squeeze down for the sake of not making a scene.

The memories that passed through the touch were not merely of an object. The glove was just like skin, an organ, part of the tall Sith. At first a flash of memories from her as she was now, an individual with a short, but intense life.

Then a jolt of her life went by where there were two living entities in one body, a plant-like symbiote and a young girl that grew and grew and grew.

And finally a deep, painful void of thousands of souls all wanting to scream their storied lives into Socorra. Their births, their lives and their deaths on a purple planet pressing into her mind. Dreams, nightmares and visions kept on flooding in.

Alaisy was none the wiser and inclined her head in respect. So many she had met today, with so many mysteries about them.

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