Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, Disney, and Bioware. I'm borrowing their toys for a work of respectful fanfiction. No money is being made, and no ownership of anything other than original characters is implied or inferred.

Author's Note: Set after completion of the Balmorran storyline for SWTOR's smuggler. Captain Eladari Umali's crew size has increased by one, and she's having a little get to know you session on Nar Shadaa.

Mandalorian Virtues

Courage

Cantinas the universe over were largely the same. Stressed people came in, drank more than they should, argued more than they ought to, and left poorer than they wanted. There might or might not, depending on the bar, be an entertaining fight, and the smell of sour alcohol, sweat, and possibly vomit would permate your clothes and hair for hours afterward. Yep, Eladari Umali, hotshot freighter jockey, knew cantinas.

But never in all her imaginings had she thought she'd be drinking in one with a Mandalorian.

All muscle, lush curves and barely-leashed battle-readiness, even in the theoretically relaxed setting of one of the best bars on Nar Shaddaa, Akaavi Spaar didn't just sit in her chair, she dominated it. The look in her eyes was reminiscent of the watchful attitude of a stalking vorn tiger, and while one hand was on her drink, the other was poised near her blaster. "You are not what I expected, Captain. You look useless and weak, but I have seen you in battle. I know you can fight."

Eladari leaned back in her seat and took another long swallow of Corellian whiskey, all lazy grace and "who, me?" innocence. "You were maybe expecting a coward with no discipline. A credit-whoring freighter jockey with no loyalty other than to myself? You wouldn't be far off. "

"My father would have been so fooled." Akaavi took a long pull at her own drink, doubtless something far stronger and far more likely to put a grown woman on her ass than what was in Eladari's glass. "He would not have seen any honor in a woman who uses words and tricks to turn battles. " The larger woman leaned one elbow on the table, looking, for all intents and purposes, like she was relaxed. Eladari knew better. Given half a motivating thought, Akaavi would be out of that chair, over the table, and halfway through beating something senseless.

The Mandalorian gazed thoughtfully at the captain, and when she spoke, her husky alto voice held absolute certainty. "I have seen your eyes on Balmorra, in the killing fields. Those are not the eyes of a trickster and coward."

"Maybe you shouldn't drink so much," Eladari suggested dryly. "I think it's getting to you."

Akaavi took a long, defiant swallow. "Your words will not sway me, Captain. Nor have you fooled anyone else on your crew, not even that boy who pants after you. We saw how you were on Balmorra. I saw your eyes when I killed the Moff." She leaned forward, zabrak-yellow eyes gleaming. "You approved. You understood."

"Careful, Akaavi." Eladari tipped further back in her chair, took another sip of whiskey, but the smile curving her soft mouth had an slight edge that hadn't been there before, and her eyes were a darker shade of chocolate . " I have a reputation as a careless, egotistical, and devastatingly charming flygirl to maintain. Can't be getting out that I'm not shallow. What would the neighbors think?"

"Your secret is safe with us, Captain. And besides, with that pathetic armor you wear, it is well that you do not seek headlong battle. You would die quickly."

Eladari snorted out a laugh before she could stop herself. "I'm devastated, hon. I've been evaluated by a Mando and I've come up short."

The zabrak bristled slightly, then settled. "This is your armor, Captain. Your... humor. Your... arrogance. It is continually surprising to me how well it works. Tell me," she continued conversationally, "when are you going to holster the blaster you're holding on me under the table?"

The redhead grinned charmingly, casually blowing her bangs out of one eye. "When you put away the knife you've got pressed against some organs I'd rather keep unperforated."

Both women laughed, a loud crack of sound that drew attention. Akaavi was the first to raise her glass. "As I said, Captain, it works for you."

"Speaking of work, we'd better get back to it. Can't leave Corso and Bowdaar to manage the cargo transfers all by themselves, and I'll probably have to pull Rish out of the engine core to make her eat something." Eladari stood and stretched, a long, sinuous curve of spine and arm that was guaranteed to get masculine attention. "Besides, this watered down swill isn't worth the credits I paid for it. Got better booze back in the galley on the Void Dancer."

"I will follow when I am ready." Akaavi returned to her drink. "I have not found all I am looking for just yet."

The Captain had just started to reply when a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. The voice was slurred, masculine, and deep. "Hey, beautiful. Too early to go home. Whyn'tcha come and have a drink with me and my friends?"

Eladari turned to face the overstuffed twi'lek invading her space. Her smile was blindingly charming. "Oh, handsome, you'd have made my day if you'd asked me that question about ten years ago, before you grew a bantha around your stomach and forgot how to bathe. It just kills me, but I'm gonna have to say no."

"You're funny." He grinned sloppily. "Is it the Zabrak, baby? 'Cause I could make you forget her. You know what they say, big lekku means big - " Whatever he was going to say trailed upward into a squeal that temporarily stopped all conversation within twenty feet of their table.

"Trouble." Akaavi gripped the lethan's throat with one gauntleted hand. "Respect the captain, or die. Do you understand?"

"Unnerstand! I... unnerstand." The twi'lek clawed at her wrist, nails scrabbling against the durasteel. His face began to mottle a darker shade of turquoise from lack of air. "Please..."

"Um, Akaavi? Not to interrupt this Mandalorian mating ritual, but I don't think his friends like the fact that you're killing him." The captain's hand hovered near Flashy, sitting neat and pretty in her cutaway holster.

Akaavi's grin slashed whitely against against the dark orange of her skin. Her clan tattoos made the smile seem almost demonic. "Then I have found what I was looking for after all." She threw the choking twi'lek into a table, which emptied almost before the man hit the floor. "Come, Captain. Let us teach these hut'uunla besom what it means to attack warriors."