Here is chapter 2. Enjoy!
The next morning, Kalera Starrider Aliit Desh'ar walked out of the tent into the blazing morning sun. She had taken off her armor to sleep, and she relished the feeling of warmth on her fur. As a Cathar, a race of bipedal feline humanoids, Kalera loved being out and about in the world. She stretched and yawned, then looked around. As she had expected, Atarik was already awake.
Kalera and Atarik had been married for almost two years, but there were still things about him that amazed her. One of them was his uncanny necessity to sleep in his armor if they were any place other than their home on Nar Shaddaaa. Atarik claimed that he had modified the suit to be as comfortable as any bed, but Kalera was skeptical. Her own armor was heavy and, if the climate control was off, really hot and stuffy too. She preferred a simple nightgown.
The other thing that amazed her was her husband's constant itch to travel. He had purchased their home on Nar Shaddaa only to pacify his wife's need for a steady home. If he had his way, their family would never have stayed in one place long enough to unpack a single storage container. He said that it was because he was a Mandalorian, and Mandalorians were nomads. The itch to move on came naturally.
As she moved so the sun didn't obscure her view of Atarik, she was surprised to find that he wasn't in his armor this morning. Instead, he was wearing a light blue tunic and pants. As far as she knew he had gone to sleep in his armor, so he must have taken it off when he woke up. The question was why. She looked around, and her curiosity was satisfied. Her two children lay on the ground, fast asleep, several pieces of Atarik's armor still clutched in their tiny fists.
Smiling, Kalera walked up behind her husband and wrapped him in a hug, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"So, was it their idea or yours?" she asked. Atarik chuckled.
"They couldn't sleep, so I gave them some armor to familiarize themselves with," Atarik replied.
"It starts that early?" Kalera asked.
"Never too early to begin learning about good'ol beskar'gam," Atarik replied. Kalera chuckled. Then she moved around to face her husband and put a more serious look on her face.
"What are we going to do about the boy?" she asked, "He's got no one left." Atarik looked up at her.
"We have two options," he replied, "Leave him here, or take him with us."
"Well, then I guess we are taking him with us," Kalera said, "We can't just leave him to fend for himself." She looked up at the sunrise for a few minutes, and suddenly a thought came to her.
"Where would we take him?" she asked. Atarik sat back on the stump he was sitting on and thought for a minute.
"Coruscant I guess," he replied.
"Oh no, Atarik, not Coruscant," Kalera said, her eyes pleading, "There are too many refugees there already." Atarik thought again.
"We could adopt him," he said. Kalera tilted her head in surprise.
"Just like that?" she asked, "No further thoughts, no legal matters?" Atarik chuckled again.
"That's another thing you still need to learn about Mandos," he said, "Adoption is part of our culture. One who is adopted is instantly as close to the adopter as if he or she was a true blood descendant." Kalera smiled.
"Let's do it," she said. Atarik smiled back.
"Put your armor on and wake up the boy and we'll get started," he replied. Kalera nodded and walked back to the tent. She ducked inside and glanced at the sleeping pad beside her and Atarik's. The boy was still there, still fast asleep. Kalera smiled as she pulled off her nightgown and slipped into the gray flightsuit she wore under her armor. Next she put on the various plates that made up the tough, blaster resistant Mandalorian iron armor. She thought about whether or not to put on her helmet, and decided to do so. She didn't want to scare the boy by showing him something that wasn't familiar in at least some form.
Her armor in place, Kalera knelt down and gently shook the boy. The boy started to shift and mumble in his sleep. Puzzled, Kalera shook him again. This time the boy's eyes shot open and he hurtled to a sitting position.
"Mom!" he screamed, breathing hard. He noticed Kalera, and dug his face into her chestplate. It didn't take her long to notice he was crying.
"It's okay, ad'ika," she said, pulling him close, "Just a bad dream." The boy pulled away and looked up at her.
"They're gone, aren't they?" he said, choking back more tears, "I thought it might have just been a dream, but they're really gone." Kalera held him close again. This time the boy did not pull away. They sat for a few minutes until Atarik walked in. He had put his armor back on, his pistol strapped to his hip.
"I'm sorry kid, but it's true," he said. He had obviously been listening in. "Your family is gone, and there is nothing in this galaxy to change that." The boy started to cry harder and Kalera gave Atarik as stern a look as she could while wearing a helmet. Atarik held up a hand to indicate he had it under control. He knelt down beside the boy and put a hand on his shoulder.
"How would you like to have a new one?" he said. The boy, still sobbing slightly, turned to look at Atarik.
"A new what?" he asked. Atarik pulled his helmet off and smiled.
"It's true that your family is gone, and there is no way we can possibly replace them," he said, "But if it's okay with you, you can have a new family. I'll be your dad, and Kalera will be your mom, and you'll have a new brother and a new sister." The boy seemed to think about the proposition.
"Before you make a decision, remember that I am not taking this lightly," Atarik said, "Adoption is a big thing to us Mandalorians. If you agree to become part of our family, then you will have to learn our ways, and it won't be easy." The boy continued to think.
"So I will have to learn how to fight?" he said, "And wear armor like that?" He pointed to Atarik's beskar chestplate.
"That's part of it, yes," Atarik said, "But there is a lot more to Mandalorians than just armor and weapons." The boy cocked his head quizzically.
"If you agree, we'll teach you," Atarik said. The boy seemed to brighten, but then his face darkened once more. He looked down at the blaster pistol lying beside his sleeping pad, the one his father had given him.
"What about my old family?" he asked. Atarik put his hand on his shoulder again.
"You don't ever have to stop loving or remembering them," Kalera said. Atarik nodded.
"We'll teach you how you can remember them the Mandalorian way," Atarik said, "They'll always be with you." The boy was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Then he looked at Kalera, who nodded, then at Atarik, who also nodded. The boy sighed, and nodded back. Atarik smiled.
"All right, come and stand in front of me," he said. The boy stepped away from Kalera, wiped the tears from his eyes, and faced Atarik. Atarik put both hands on the boy's shoulders and looked him right in the eyes.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Terris," the boy replied.
"All right," Atarik said, "Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad-Terris." Atarik smiled once more at the boy, Terris. "You are now my son." Kalera clapped politely and joined in as Atarik hugged Terris. They stayed together for a few seconds, and then Atarik heard someone come into the tent and pulled away. He turned to see his own children standing in the doorway.
"Tracyn, Kar'ta," he said, "Meet your new brother, Terris."