Jesse, Hardcase, Dogma, and Tup walked into a bar.

This is not the start of a bad joke.

Kad'la Ceyn had been there for two hours, slowly downing shots of Mandalorian ale. The bartender gave her no trouble, and the other customers gave her a wide berth. Full beskar'gam had that effect on people.

She immediately noticed when the four troopers came in. Immediately, because they were quite distinctive in their armor. Noticed, because they reminded her of her sons. There was the too-familiar pang of emptiness that came with the memory of her boys, and she quickly quenched it with another shot before leaning back and observing.

One seemed almost insane, but underneath it was a cheery mood and a sharp wit. Much like Jarel.

Another was more laid back, but with the same vibrant optimism – like Sheresh.

One was rigid – knowledgeable, but not yet wise. Miitkoy would've worshipped him.

The last was quiet. He stood off to the side and watched, laughing along when the situation demanded it, only occasionally cracking his own joke. He was the baby brother, Kad'la realized as she noted how his brothers shielded him. Just like Eykah.

"Oh, just get us a table, Dogma!" Jarel said to Miitkoy.

Dogma stalked around the entire establishment, looking for open chairs.

Kad'la twitched when she realized the only seats were in her booth, but other than that, she showed no sign of the discomfort she was feeling.

Dogma seemed to realize it, too, and he walked over sheepishly. "Ma'am, may we sit with you?"

Kad'la waved a hand lazily in the air, giving into her more generous nature. "As you wish."

Moments later, the four clones slid into the booth. "Twenty questions," Jarel insisted.

Sheresh shook his head. "Fine, Hardcase! But only if Tup wants too."

Tup nodded in acquiescence. "You first, Jesse."

Jesse frowned thoughtfully. "What's the one reg you're always breaking?"

"Standardization," all three answered in unison, even gesturing to their tattoos at the same time.

"That's easy," Hardcase said. "Who's your holonet crush?"

His brothers all blushed, refusing to answer.

Kad'la waited until the awkward tension was thick in the air before speaking up. "Juu Makkan."

"Alexi Antilles," Jesse murmured reluctantly.

Tup shot his brother a look that clearly said his was the same.

Dogma shook his head and buried his face in his hands before admitting "Feyla Michoc."

Jesse choked. "Romcoms, Dom'ika?"

"Your biggest injury," Dogma challenged, skillfully changing topic.

"Concussion with complications," Hardcase said.

"That explains some things," Tup muttered. "I once almost sat on an IED. The kaminiise wanted to scrap me."

Kad'la didn't miss the tightening of fists and dangerous glittering of eyes that went around the table at that statement. "My jetpack once shorted out. My fall was… spectacular."

Jesse nodded. "I got into a fight with a rancor. The rancor won."

Tup was silent, mulling over his question. "What is your deepest desire?"

Dogma threw his hands up in the air. "For everyone to follow the rules for once!"

Jesse laughed, then turned somber. "The war to be over."

"A mom."

The others looked at Hardcase like he had violated some sort of agreement by saying it out loud.

Kad'la swallowed the lump in her throat. "To see my sons again."

Hardcase watched the woman as she struggled to contain her emotions, then on an impulse, grabbed her hand. "Mhi kar'tayl gai buir."

For a moment, Kad'la just gaped. Then, weeping, she took their four hands in her two. "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ade."