Chapter 12: Shidar Zhol'skar
Thellus Asteroid, Dressel System
In the basement of a warehouse in New Aroo the Tarkin family had recently purchased, Shidar laid on the floor, scared, miserable, and hungry. She had only been given one meal in the last two days—a half-finished bowl of Ghoba rice that stank of the breath of the human who had not eaten it all. She had only been given water a few times.
Shidar's interactions with her jailer, the same human who had abducted her from near the New Aroo Maglev Station, were limited. The human had not even asked her any questions since the angry speeder ride. Sometimes, Shidar knew she was being left alone. Her ears would perk up at the sound of the human coming and going. When alone, Shidar explored the boundaries of the dark room she was locked in but had yet to figure out a possible escape. Yelping for help had yielded no results.
When Shidar pondered her situation more, she began to realise these humans did not really care whether she lived or died. I am just a loose end. An afterthought, Shidar thought hopelessly to herself. She blinked her eyes, around which the fur had crusted from her tears.
If I survive this, the first thing I am going to do is visit my family, she promised herself. I have not spoken to any of them in months.
o-o-o
"Wake up," the familiar voice said gruffly.
Shidar lifted her head from the sleeve of Pul's flight-suit.
"Your situation is either going to improve or get a lot worse. Your choice."
Shidar looked the human in the eye, growling nervously, "I understand. What do I do?"
Unlocking her cage, the Mandalorian said "follow me. Some of us want to ask you questions."
o-o-o
Shidar blinked in the light of the warehouse's brighter upstairs.
This room had been modified into a spartan living quarters. It had a holonet terminal, a couch, and a bed, surrounded by boxes, old droids, and various stored items on the warehouse floor.
Pul and two other Mandalorians awaited her, standing around the holonet terminal. Pul appeared very unhappy with her and had a black eye.
"Hey Pul," Shidar croaked, her fur swirling nervously.
Pul frowned, folding his arms.
"So, this is the Bothan," a Mandalorian Shidar had not yet met muttered. "My name is Ditmas, and this is my sister, Baci."
"Nice to meet you sir," Shidar growled in a small voice.
"Why are you telling her our names?!" Baci yelled angrily. "She's an outsider and—"
"Because, either this Bothan is really Pul's riduur and is therefore a member of us, or she's dead already. Either way, it doesn't matter if she knows your name, Baci."
Shidar's fur fell flat. Her mind began racing with ways to convince these Mandalorians of her loyalty. "I am sorry," she moaned in a whiny growl.
"Apology accepted," Ditmas said, "but that doesn't change your predicament. Now what were you doing in New Aroo?"
Shidar's fur was too tightly pressed into her body to do anything but sit still. "I was… I was eating at the Manda Cantina."
"Eating? At a cantina?" Ditmas asked with raised eyebrows. Pul frowned in disbelief.
"I couldn't drink there. The cop at the door esh… well he told me not to," she growled.
Baci scoffed. "You've really found your match Pul. She sounds thicker than you!"
"Hey!" Pul yelled angrily, stepping forward.
Baci closed her hand in a fist and stepped up to Pul.
Shidar flinched, expecting them to start fighting.
"Enough!" Ditmas yelled. "Okay, so you did a strange thing at the cantina. Given how you are dressed," he pushed Shidar's shoulder, flicking the fabric of Pul's flight-suit, "you seem like a really skrogged up weirdo. I believe that. We have room weirdos on Mandalore so that doesn't bother me. What bothers me is why you were at the cantina. Why were you at that cantina, which is far from the Gal'skar docks?"
"To make connections," Shidar growled in a half-truth. "Lots of cops at the cantina, also diplomats, Marshals, Marines…"
"Connections?" Ditmas asked in surprise.
"Uh," Pul muttered, his ears growing red. "Shidar is a…"
"Holy shab!" Baci exclaimed. "She's a literal schutta! A little weasel-headed schutta."
"Yeah," Pul sighed.
Shidar gulped. She knew what the Twi'lek slur schutta meant. Being called that did not bother her in the slightest. It was true enough. Yet, her fur remained flat in fear. She had no idea whether or not this would factor into whether or not Ditmas would decide to spare her.
Ditmas snorted with laughter. "Okay okay, it's making sense now. This was all a misunderstanding then? Pul, did you give your riduur permission to continue her profession?" he asked, emphasising the word 'profession.'
"No, I didn't," Pul said angrily.
"I esh sorry Pul," Shidar croaked.
"We can talk about this later," Pul muttered bitterly. "I have a question myself riduur," he asked, suddenly pulling Shidar forwards by the collar of his flight-suit.
Shidar yelped in terror, her ears rolled back against her head as she winced.
"WHY ARE YOU WEARING MY CLOTHES?!" he yelled.
Shidar's fur relaxed, her ears perked up. Immediately, a flattering explanation came to mind. "Rurzask, I uh… I like your smell. Wanted to wear your clothes to keep your smell," she answered.
"Huh. Imagine that!" Pul said, looking pleased with himself. He released her with a proud smile.
"Back in Kelita, our Strill used to that too," Ditmas chuckled. "Remember Baci? She often grabbed my clothes and slept with them in front of her."
Shidar's ears perked up further. She had no idea what a Strill was.
"Yeah," Baci agreed. "These Bothans have a pretty good sense of smell too. We're taking this one back with us then?"
"If she behaves herself," Ditmas said sternly.
Shidar's fur swirled nervously. Mandalore or death… I've really done it this time.
o-o-o
"Gar riduur guur' kaysh skraan," Ditmas said, then helped himself to another wafer.
The Mandalorians and Shidar were having tallgrain wafers with canned Salar fish for dinner.
With her ears perked up, Shidar was voraciously wolfing down her food, trying to understand anything the Mandalorians said. She understood riduur out of Ditmas's utterance, but nothing else.
"Lek," Pul answered. Then continuing mumbling away in Mandalorian, food in his mouth.
She felt safe for the first time in days. They are feeding me now which means they care if I live. They care.
Baci and Pul began loudly arguing about something. Shidar's fur swirled nervously as she popped two wafers at once into her snout and began crunching on them.
"I didn't know we were keepin' her alive," Baci muttered casually in Basic, plucking a raw piece of Salar fish from the can with her bare fingers and eating it.
Shidar's ears relaxed, no longer straining so hard to try to understand these aliens.
"You didn't feed my riduur at all!" Pul yelled with afront.
"I fed her some rice," Baci said with a shrug. "Also, didn't know she was official or anything."
"Baci's right," Ditmas muttered suddenly. "Let's make this official."
Shidar's ears perked up. Wonder what this means.
o-o-o
Shidar's fur was flat again. Pul's hand was bleeding and had been for over a minute. He was muttering angrily under his breath.
Ditmas held a knife blade against the palm of Shidar's hand, struggling to cut her hand through her flat fur.
After chanting in Mandalorian for five minutes, holding idols of Kod Ha'rangir and his four demi-god partners, the crazy Mandalorians were now cutting hands. Shidar wanted absolutely nothing to do with this.
Shidar yelped in pain as Ditmas's blade finally sawed through her fur and sliced her palm. Her eyes teared up.
"Ah calm down Shidar," Pul muttered. "Look, it happened to me too all right?"
"Kiz," Shidar sniffled, wiping the tears out of her eyes. "Understand."
"You're lucky I am more tolerant of cowards than my father," Ditmas said, staring into Shidar's teary violet eyes.
"I am sorry—"
"—Stop crying," Pul ordered, reaching out and grabbing her snout. He turned her head towards his, looking into her eyes fiercely.
Shidar gulped nervously, sniffled one last time, then stopped. Her fur relaxed slightly.
"All right," Ditmas sighed. "Good."
"Okay now, that's over," Pul said with a smirk. "Now my riduur, you say: Jii mhi cuyi bat riduurok."
Shidar nervously growled "Jį mį khųyį bhąth rųdhųrųkh."
The Mandalorians roared with laughter. Pul grabbed her cut hand with his cut hand and squeezed it.
Shidar scrunched her face at the pain and closed her eyes.
"Huh. My first marriage," Pul suddenly said, massaging her hand.
"Marriage?!" Shidar snarled in shock. Her fur stood on end. All other concerns, including the pain on her hand, melted away. "I didn't get to bring my parents or my sister," she moaned. "Jus' got married and none of my family was here!"
"You didn't ask," Ditmas sighed.
"Where esh my ring?!" Shidar yelped.
"Mandalorians don't need 'em," Pul said matter of factly, waving his bloody hand in front of her snout.
"At least she does have spirit," Baci said, punching Shidar's shoulder hard with a laugh.
Shidar scowled.
o-o-o
If Bothan culture had the concept of a shotgun wedding, then Shidar had certainly found the very worst possible version of it. A cut hand, no family to witness, and no ring.
"Can I see my parents later?" Shidar growled nervously to Ditmas.
After the ceremony, Baci had gone to sleep and kicked the three of them out of the upstairs. Shidar, Ditmas, and Pul now slept in sleeping bags in the basement of the safehouse. Shidar and Pul shared one, Ditmas laid in another.
"I don't think that's a good idea yet," Ditmas sighed. "You being with us Shidar… It's a security breach. Puts us all in danger. Do you understand? We are keeping you around because you are now a member of our clan, but we can't just let everyone on the station in on this. We can't let them know you are with us."
"Yeah I understand," Shidar sighed despondently. Her fur twirled unhappily and swirled guiltily. "I just haven't spoken to them in a month." Before being abducted and fearing for her life, she would have been perfectly content with not seeing them for another few months.
"Riduur," Pul said sadly into her ear, hugging her. "I am sorry. I promise I will pay for their tickets to Mandalore so they can see you after we arrive there."
Shidar gulped. Right. That. "How long till we go to Mandalore?"
"Eleven or twelve days," Pul answered.
Shidar rolled onto her side and stared at Pul. Twelve days till I go to a wasteland to live with you and you crazy kriffing humans who cut each other's hands.
Pul turned away and fumbled with some of Shidar's things. He smirked at something. "Hey! Damn that's a cute picture of you!" he exclaimed, holding her datapad.
Shidar's fur squirmed uncomfortably. That's my datapad. Get your grubby hands off it! "Can I please see it?" she asked politely.
Pul rolled over, holding her datapad in front of her face. Her own likeness was in a message sent from Tav Mi'zya.
Shidar gasped. Under a picture of her own toothy smiling face, a message read:
"Оддаша му йаг. Ерз-сусписк за, сйо ђай-иўаиўа ко."
"We received this. It is very suspicious, will keep investigating."
Shidar made a nervous whiny growl. How is this possible? I sent them hair that wasn't mine! I smelled it…
"What's the matter Shidar? You look amazing in the picture. Even more beautiful than you do now."
Gulping, then taking a deep breath, Shidar replied, "thank you riduur."
Normally, her fur would have danced at the complement, but she now felt utterly useless and incompetent. I went through all of that trouble, all of this trouble, married a Mandalorian, and somehow sent the Marshals a sample of myself. Never before had she been so uncertain at her own abilities. I am useless.
o-o-o
Shidar had never journeyed from New Aroo to Gal'skar by speeder. When she explained that it would be less than forty minutes on the maglev, Pul dismissed it. Nope. They were driving through the tunnels in Pul's rented speeder. Sitting in the passenger seat, Shidar made no more protests.
Two hours into the drive, a little over halfway to the Gal'skar docks, Shidar's stomach began rumbling.
"You're hungry?" Pul asked.
"Yeah," Shidar replied. "Esh no food down here though," she sighed staring down the barren tunnelscape. Ahead, all she could see was the rear lights of landspeeders and speeder trucks.
"Actually, there's a Biscuit Baron in twenty minutes," Pul said. "Ditmas and I ate there on our way to New Aroo."
"What esh Biscuit Baron?" Shidar asked, her ears perking up.
"Oh, you'll love it."
o-o-o
Parked in the dark tunnel in a spot in front of the fuel depot and Biscuit Baron, the unlikely couple now ate in their speeder.
Shidar's fur swirled nervously in the flight-suit. Pul had ordered her a Bantha Breakfast Biscuit with Blue Sauce and a side of fries. The sauce smelled dangerous; it smelled spicy.
Pul bit into his, savouring the taste. Some of the blue sauce rained down onto the sandwich wrapper on his lap. "You gonna eat? My riduur needs her strength."
Shidar ate another fry and smiled, munching it down. Happy?
Pul picked up her Bantha Biscuit and held it in front of her snout.
Gulping nervously, Shidar slowly took a bite. It tasted meaty, bready, salty, savoury and very spicy. Shidar coughed, tears streaming from her eyes.
"What's the matter?" Pul groaned.
"It esh… it is… it is so spicy!" Shidar gasped, gulping down a cup of water.
"This is hardly spicy at all! Onions are spicier than this!" Pul exclaimed. "You Bothans really need to toughen up. Damn. Maybe I should call you laandur."
Whatever in the Galaxy onions were, they did not sound like a good idea to the Bothan. "I am sorry," she moaned. Far more afraid of being rejected by Pul than the burn of the spiciness, she took another bite. Tears streamed down her eyes as she swallowed it. Her fur twirled unhappily as she took a smaller spicy nibble. How is this thing even considered edible?
