Author's Note: There are a few words spoken in Mando'a here, to which I've provided a translation for at the bottom of the page.
FIVE MONTHS LATER...
Dxun - Jungle Moon of Onderon
3rd person POV...
The forest is quiet, the silence only being disturbed by insects chirping and birds whistling as the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, signifying dawn. Within the shadows of the trees however that means nothing, the canopy blocking out much of the light.
The mostly quiet atmosphere is suddenly disturbed roughly as a large, armored animal charged through the brush, skidding to a stop and tearing up the ground. The animal was huge with thick scales colored a deep red, sharp claws, and short spikes along running along its its back: a zakkeg. It narrows its beady eyes with a snarl and looks around, sniffing the air. It then turns to its side upon smelling its prey and growls, preparing to charge.
Several feet away, Marcus watches tensely as the zakkeg paws the ground, stalking slowly in his direction.
"That's it... that's it you overgrown lizard," he murmurs.
Marcus can see through the darkness with his helmet's night vision, while the zakkeg relies more on smell and hearing. It lets out a roar and then charges forwards. Marcus waits, his body completely tense, and then moves into action.
He quickly leaps to the side right as the zakkeg barrels past where he was. At the same time Raman and Aathias appear out of the brush on their jet packs, firing their blaster pistols. The zakkeg roars in pain as the bolts hit its side, although they don't do much damage aside from scorch its scales. Snarling angrily, the zakkeg stops its charge and whips around to face one of them, jumping into the air.
The zakkeg swipes its claws at Raman, who barely evades it with a dash of his jet pack. Marcus gets to his feet and observes the situation, thinking about what to do.
"Kriff, this thing's hide is tough!" Raman says.
"Try shooting the eyes!" Aathias suggests.
Marcus pulls out his blaster and moves forwards while they both switch their aim towards the zakkeg's face. The zakkeg flinches as several shots get near its eyes and then roars at them angrily. Marcus let's off a shot from his blaster and hits it, but just narrowly misses one of its eyes.
Raman then flies forwards, going low to the ground, and then drops a small grenade at the zakkeg's feet. As he passes it however it swipes out a claw and manages to smack his jetpack, sending him tumbling across the ground with a pained cry. The zakkeg moves to charge at him but the grenade then explodes, throwing it on its back with a roar of pain. Aathias takes the opportunity to shoot it straight through one eye, causing it even more pain.
"Think we've got it now?" Raman asks Marcus with a groan, getting to his feet.
"I don't know, it's still angry," Marcus replies uncertainly.
As Marcus moves in to try and deliver a fatal wound, the zakkeg angrily lashes out with its tail in a wild arc, catching him unprepared and slamming him against a tree. Aathias tried hitting the other eye, but the zakkeg leaps into the air and snaps its jaws; she barely avoids the bite, but it still manages to snatch her jetpack. It lands on the ground, thrashing Aathias around like a rag doll while she cries out in alarm, and then throws her away with a snarl.
Raman stands up fully, only to yelp in surprise as Aathias slams into him, sending them both tumbling across the dirt. She groans in pain, dizzy and unstable from being thrashed around, and presses a hand to her head.
"You alright?" Raman mutters.
"Yeah... turned my jetpack into complete duse though," she says.
"Great... now please get off of me," he groans.
With them both temporarily incapacitated the zakkeg stomps towards them with an angry snarl, preparing to tear them apart.
Regaining his senses, Marcus narrows his eyes in frustration and annoyance and tosses his blaster away. He pulls out his two vibroblades and lets them crackle to life with red energy, and runs forwards. With a determined yell he jumps into the air as high as he can and lands on the zakkeg's back, stabbing with his blades.
The zakkeg roars in pain and begins to thrash and buck around, trying to throw him off. Marcus manages to hold on however, using his vibroblades to stabilize himself, and continues stabbing it. A wild thrashing leap from the zakkeg throws him around, and he slides off of its back before holding himself on with a blade stabbed into its shoulder. Taking his other vibroblade, he grapples onto the zakkeg's neck and then thrusts it into its brain, piercing the tough scales and thick skull.
The zakkeg's roar is cut off and it gargles, swaying unsteadily on its feet before collapsing. Marcus is thrown off as it hits the ground, rolling onto his back and laying there, taking several deep breaths.
"Ki'ra... it's like playing get'shuk, but worse," he groans.
"You're the genius who rode its back like a complete dinii," Raman scoffs. He stands up off the ground and helps Aathias get to her feet. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Takes more than a rabid beast to beat me," she replies. "Sorry for hitting you."
"It's fine. I'm tough," Raman says confidently.
"So nice of you to notice brother," Marcus adds, also standing up.
He collects his vibroblades, pulling one out of the zakkeg's brain, which causes it to switch. Cleaning the blades against a tree trunk, he turns them off and then places them back onto his belt, facing the others.
"So... who do we call to transport this thing?" he asks.
"I'll take care of it," Raman says. "I'm sure Count Drezden will be excited to see this."
"I hope so. That thing was harder to kill than I thought," Aathias remarks.
"All thanks to me of course," Marcus points out with a mock bow.
"Sure, whatever you say, Marcus," Raman scoffs dismissively.
"Aw, I think you did great!" Aathias congratulates, her voice sweet and adoring.
"Thanks. At least someone appreciates my talents," Marcus replies, looking pointedly at Raman.
"Biai yirhaou gar gev gotal'ur nari bat ner b'ami'r," he shoots back.
Raman brings a hand to his helmet and strides off, opening a communication back to base camp, calling to inform them of their hunt being successful. While he does so, Aathias stands next to Marcus with her arms crossed, glancing up at him.
"Don't worry, he's just being jealous," she reassured him.
"'Course he is," Marcus replies, amused.
"You got a little dirt on your helmet," she notices, reaching up to wipe it away.
"Hey! Hands off!" Raman exclaims, moving back over.
Aathias finishes wiping the dirt off of Marcus's helmet and saunters off, hands held up in sarcastic submission. Marcus laughs at the whole thing, rolling his eyes under his helmet.
"Someone's feeling anxious," he teases.
"Well I'm not about to have my fiancé stolen by my little brother," he states firmly.
"Oh relax cyar'ika, no one's 'stealing' me," Aathias says sarcastically. "So is someone coming by to help?"
"Yeah, they're sending a small transport," Raman tells them.
"Great, because I'm ready to get some actual sleep," Marcus remarks.
Nayli City - Chandrila
Lara hustled through the hallways with a few other nurses, pulling along a repulsorlift-stretcher. A rodian man was lying on top of it and covered in white sheets, barely conscious. He worked at a factory nearby and was caught in a machine accident, badly damaging his right leg.
"Alright people, lets get him in here!" Dr. Zirash orders, holding open the door to the operating room.
Pushing the rodian into the operating room, Lara works with two others to lift him out of the stretcher and onto the operating platform, keeping heavy sheets around his mangled leg. Lara avoids looking at it directly, a bit sensitive to the sight, but works with quick efficiency.
When the rodian is settled, several medical droids move forwards and begin preparing the equipment, while Dr. Zirash approaches, gloves, coat, and everything else he needs already on and cleaned.
"Is there a possibility of saving his leg?" Lara asks him.
A quick glance has Dr. Zirash shaking his head in response.
"No, it's far too mangled. We'll have to amputate," he states grimly.
Lara glances at the rodian regretfully but nods, backing away with the other nurses.
"I would recommend a deep anesthetic first, doctor," one of the medical droids suggests.
"I know, I know," he replies in exasperation. "One of you get the anesthetic ready."
She does so without hesitation, grabbing a syringe and a capsule containing the medicine, filling it up. Approaching the rodian she carefully sticks the needle into his leg, just above the injury. Another nurse works to apply a mask to his face that will filter a medicine to keep him unconscious during the surgery.
"Heart rate lowering, Doctor. Patient is stable," one of the droids reports.
"Good. Let's get to work," Dr. Zirash says with a nod. "Lara, please inform the family about the situation."
Lara glances at the rodian worriedly for a moment, but nods her head in understanding. She leaves the room as Zirash, the droids, and the rest of the nurses prepare to begin to surgery. Pulling off her mask and gloves, she drops them into a disposal bin just outside and makes her way through the hallways towards the hospital's waiting room.
Upon arriving she calls out the names of those affiliated with him, and they come hustling over worriedly. They spoke Huttese instead of Basic or Roduse, so Lara switched to communicate with them.
"How is my husband?" the woman asks.
"The important thing is that he'll live ma'am," Lara assures her, although sad. "Unfortunately the accident damaged his leg beyond repair, so we have to amputate."
She gasps in horror, holding her two young children close, who also look up with wide, nervous eyes.
"No! Is there nothing you can do?!" she pleads.
"I'm sorry ma'am. I wish there was though, really," Lara replies in regret.
The woman breaks down in tears, causing the children to become more anxious and upset as well. It tears at Lara's heart to hear them all so upset, not only hearing and seeing them but also feeling their pain through the Force as well.
When the surgery was finished, Lara and her fellow nurses were assigned to help clean up the operating room and make sure the patient was stable.
Lara was checking on the rodian's pulse and blood pressure, and also making sure the bandages were wrapped tightly and securely around the stump of his leg. While doing so she glances up to see if her coworkers were looking, and then focuses back down on his leg.
Raising her hand up, she gently touches his stump and closes her eyes, focusing on the Force. Lara allows some of her energy to flow into the Rodian, helping to heal his injury. After a few moments she separates from him, having accelerated his healing process so that it would no longer hurt him, and that he would not experience any phantom pain.
One of the mirialan nurses, Telleen, then brings a wheelchair into the room, and Dr. Zirash steps in right after. Lara quickly removes her hand from where it was hovering over the rodian's leg, knowing that Dr. Zirash would freak out.
"Once he wakes up we'll get him settled in the chair, and bring him out to his family," he informs them.
Lara watches, with a bit of sadness, as the rodian man is reunited with his family, sitting in a wheelchair. His wife hugs him while his children stand around him, bewildered and uneasy.
After they left, Lara gathers up her things and prepares to leave herself, her shift done for the day. While she's walking down the hallway one of the surgeons, a blue-skinned twi'lek man named Hamu, comes up beside her.
"So you got any plans tonight?" he asks.
"Cutting right to the chase, huh?" Lara asks sarcastically, giving him a look.
"I'm a very direct guy," he shrugs. "So?"
"Sorry, but I'm busy. I need to take care of my father," she explains regretfully.
"Seriously? I thought he was doing fine," Hamu says, frowning.
"No, it's still the same. But it's hard for him to get around the house now," she explains.
"Haven't you considered taking him to a doctor?" he says.
"I don't have the money to get him treatment," she replies.
"Oh come, you've got a good salary; you even got a new place away from the previous dump you were in!" he insists incredulously.
"Being a nurse doesn't pay as much as you'd think Hamu, and I'm the only income we've got. I'm paying for the house, food, appliances, transportation, everything. It doesn't help with the Republics seeming favoritism towards corporations. And now they've upped the taxes!" Lara informs him, a little frustrated. "Besides, my father and I know what the problem is with his health, and there's no way to help it get better."
Hamu looks at her sympathetically, and pats her shoulder.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Really," he says sincerely. "Still, I think you should afford yourself some free time. All you seem to do is work, and never take care of yourself. I'm sure your father can handle one night by himself, right?"
"Maybe," she shrugs uncertainly.
"Come on; tonight at the city park. Go for a snack, stroll around for a bit," he suggests. "And I'll pay!"
Lara's lips curl into a small smile at his suggestion, the idea sounding nice for herself, and she nods her head.
"Alright... but no more than an hour!" she says firmly.
"It's a deal!" he says, grinning at her.
Mandalorian Outpost - Dxun
The new home of Clan Ordo, after their exile from Mandalore, was situated on the sight of an old outpost used by ancient Mandalorians nearly 4,000 years ago.
Situated in the jungle and protected by tall mountains, the old outpost had several large buildings and structures spanning across a flat plain. The old and abandoned structures were mostly covered by nature during their lack of use, but Clan Ordo cleared out all of the invasive plants and trees, refurbishing the buildings to the best of their ability so that they appeared much newer, and were functional.
A wide grassy field sat near the entrance of the outpost, surrounded by a few of the more fancy and intricate buildings. Most people walked through the field on their ways to other places, crossing pathways laid out for them. It's also where the clan held special gatherings, a large fire pit set up at one end for holding bonfires.
Marcus, Raman, Aathias, and a team of Mandalorians arrived at the outpost with their transport, hovering through the courtyard on their way to the facility that dealt with large creatures. They would cut up large animals and determine their worth for potential buyers in nearby systems or across the galaxy; people from Onderon bought things from them to sell in their own markets.
"You guys certainly hit it big today," Javoni remarks.
"Thanks. We did our best," Aathias replies, pulling off her helmet in order to straighten up her hair.
"I can't believe you guys managed to take down a zakkeg just by yourselves. These things are hard to kill!" Sedriv says.
"You know how much their hide is worth?" Logan asks them.
"A lot?" Raman replies.
"Oh yeah. They've got really tough hides, so it's valuable," he tells them.
"Sounds fun," Marcus comments.
He and Raman both pull off their helmets, the sun now high enough to provide some light to their surroundings, and Marcus scratches his head with a tired sigh.
"I don't know about you guys, but I need to sleep," he says.
"No kidding," Raman adds, and Aathias nods in agreement.
"You guys were up all night," Sedriv remarks.
"We were trying to track that thing all night and get it to follow us," Aathias explains.
"Well we can take care of the zakkeg if you guys want to head off," Jovani says.
"Thanks," Marcus says in gratitude.
"You'll definitely need some rest. The tournament is tonight," Logan reminds them.
"Oh great," he mutters.
"Why so glum brother? Worried you'll get spanked this time?" Raman teases.
"Tell that to my fists as I pummel you," Marcus retorts.
"Nu draar," he says, shaking his head.
"K'atini!" he shoots back.
"Oh come on boys, lighten up. We all know I'm gonna come out on top," Aathias interjects.
"What?" they both ask incredulously.
"HA!" Sedriv and Logan both laugh, while Jovani rolls his eyes with an amused smile. "I so want to see that!"
"Seriously?" Raman asks.
"What makes you think that?" Marcus adds.
"Well I'm already pretty good," she drawls smugly. "But your mother's been teaching me some moves too, and I think they're pretty killer."
"Oh come on," he groans.
"When did she teach you stuff?" Raman asks incredulously.
"At times. No reason for me to tell you," she replies, grinning.
"Wait, your mother? As in the Viper?" Logan asks.
"Who else?" Marcus says dryly.
"Just making sure," he says, nodding.
"That's quite the impressive accomplishment. Not many Mandalorians could take on a zakkeg, much less with only three of you," Count Drezden praises.
"Vor entye," they all reply with a nod.
After returning to the outpost from a successful hunt for the zakkeg, Raman, Aathias and Marcus all were summoned to meet with Count Drezden, who wanted to congratulate them on the mission.
Count Drezden is a large man with darkened skin from his inter-racial parents, a thin black but graying beard, and wears black-colored armor with golden highlights. Over his shoulders he wears a dark brown fur cape, which is customary for the Count to wear in Clan Ordo. While a veteran Mandalorian, he is past his prime at age 60, but still no less respected for his status or skills in battle. Most of the Clan considers him to be the best leader they've had in several generations, which he's proven with his courage, intellect, battle prowess, and his firm sense of responsibility as duty to being a good leader.
Like most of the Clans on Mandalore, they're led through a mostly monarch system, with the descendants of their Clan's founder being the leaders. This is not a firm, exclusive rule, as Count's can choose whoever they wish to be their successor, the only requirement being that they were born in that Clan, and are agreed upon by its populace for the role. However being a very traditional people, the successor not chosen through descendants is in very rare instances. And unfortunately for Drezden his two sons were killed in the Mandalorian Civil War, leaving him with no direct heir to continue Canderous Ordo's bloodline.
Everyone in the Clan was deeply upset and saddened when this happened, most of them blaming Death Watch and House Vizsla for it. But despite his grief, Drezden has persisted in leading his people and looked for someone he feels is worthy of taking his place; his gaze being drawn to the Sohl brothers, Raman in particular. He respects the Sohl's and admires their loyalty and devotion to Mandalore, which is part of why Je'ric is one of his top advisors. Raman's leadership qualities have stuck out for Drezden in particular, while in Marcus he admires his fighting prowess.
"Defeating a zakkeg was considered a great honor for ancient Mandalorians once, and I see why it should be no different today," Drezden continues. "I'm sure you're well aware that tonight is our annual tournament."
"We do, Count," Raman says.
"Being unable to return to Mandalore, the tournament is now our best opportunity to express ourselves as Mandalorians, and to showcase our strengths in battle. I'm hoping you will be ready to take part in it."
"I don't see how we couldn't. It's brilliant!" Aathias comments eagerly.
"Hmm hmm," Marcus nods in agreement.
"I'm glad to hear it," Drezden replies. "These days it'll be more challenging to keep our spirits up, so I'd like you to set an example for us. Get some rest, I'm sure you need it after such a long hunt."
They all nod their heads are offer their gratitude, and move to leave. However before Marcus could exit, Drezden stops him.
"A moment, Marcus," he asks.
Marcus stops in confusion and glances at Raman, who shrugs. He and Aathias leave, and Marcus turns back to Drezden.
"Yes sir?" he asks politely.
"I just wanted to make a note of your skills in battle. You're one of the best of our generation," he remarks.
"Thank you sir," Marcus replies, hiding his sheepish expression.
"Because of this, I think it's far past time that you were given one of these," he continues.
Reaching under his desk, Drezden holds up a new jetpack, causing Marcus to widen his eyes. He takes a few quick steps forwards in his amazement, hesitantly reaching a hand out to touch it. It's the standard model with thrusters and a missile set into the top, but the shiny gray metal indicates it recently came off the assembly line.
"Wow... really?" he asks.
"Of course. You're more than ready," Drezden says.
Marcus smiles lightly and then looks over the jetpack again, considering. Being able to finally have his own jetpack is definitely awesome, but at the same time... he's not been too bad without it. He's not nearly as skilled with blasters and aiming like Raman is, being the better melee fighter out of the two of them. So he's more on the ground anyways compared to Raman, who can attack from the air. Still...
"Thank you sir... to be honest I don't know if I'll use it much, now that I think about it. I'm more of an up-close and personal fighter," he admits.
"That's perfectly fine Marcus. Still, it doesn't hurt to have one. You never know when you might need it," he replies.
Marcus smiles and takes the jetpack into his hands with a nod of gratitude. After a quick farewell he departs from Drezden's office, making his way towards the building's exit. Along the way he runs into his father, Je'ric, who takes notice of the jetpack.
"Kandosii, ad," he congratulates with a grin. "About time you earned your pack."
"Vor entye buir," Marcus replies.
"Raman told me you jumped onto that zakkeg like a deranged lunatic," Je'ric remarks.
"He did, did he?" he asks dryly.
"Nothing to be bothered by. When I was your age I would've just gone right up to it and started punching," he replies, laughing. "I was very brave, but not the smartest."
"Yeah, that sounds like a dumb idea," Marcus scoffs in agreement.
"You participating in the tournament," Je'ric asks.
"Yeah. Probably won't use this just yet though," he says, gesturing to the jetpack.
"Well good luck out there. Your mother and I will be watching," he comments.
"Uh huh, sure," Marcus says in a small amount of amusement.
As they both continue on their way, Marcus heading for the family house, he can't help but let out a quiet sigh of disappointment, mostly at their entire lifestyle right now.
Back at their house, Marcus opens the door and steps inside, closing it after him. He walks over and places his jetpack and helmet on the table, observing it for a moment.
"...alright..." he murmurs to himself, looking a little glum.
"Hello Marcus," Ravella greets him, entering the room.
"Hey mother," he replies, managing a small smile.
"I heard about your success with the zakkeg. And that Drezden gave you your new jetpack!" she says happily.
"Yup. The real deal," he confirms.
"Certainly looks good, probably just came off the assembly," Ravella observes, touching the jetpack and holding it for a moment, setting it back down. "I'm sure that's exciting. You've been waiting for one for a while."
"Hmm hmm."
"Are you thinking of painting it to match your armor?" she asks.
"Maybe, not sure yet," he shrugs in reply. "I think I'll wait until after the tournament."
"Well isn't that exciting," she smiles.
"Definitely," he agrees. "Everyone's talking about it."
Despite Marcus's casual attitude, Ravella notices that there's something a bit off about him and frowns.
"Marcus, are you alright?" she asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired," he tells her in dismissal.
"You're more than just tired," Ravella states, concerned. "You haven't seemed too happy lately."
Marcus grimaces and glances up at his mother, who is staring at him with a knowing gaze. Conceding defeat, he lets out a tired sigh.
"Alright. I'm just not happy with things lately," he admits.
"Happy with things?" she asks.
"Being here, being forced from our home, resorting to simply hunting wildlife for enjoyment," he explains in frustration. "It's dumb. There's not much to do around here otherwise."
"I know it's frustrating Marcus, but this is the best we have. Everyone else is adjusting well enough," she tells him.
"Yeah, I don't get that either," he scoffs.
"You have friends, people who care about you. Do you not enjoy your time with them?"
"No, it's not that... well..." he sighs in frustration. "It's not that I don't enjoy it, it's just... I need something more. This isn't enough for me."
"Marcus..." Ravella says slowly, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You don't always have to be doing something. Have you ever considered settling down? Like how your brother is?"
"What do you mean?" he asks, confused.
"Raman and Aathias have been together for years now, and they'll be married soon," she tells him. "Haven't you considered the same?"
"Not really," he shrugs.
"You're 25 now Marcus, you should try. There's bound to be some girl in the clan for you," she suggests.
"I don't really feel that way," Marcus says in disagreement.
"Are you sure? What about Varlaa? She's nice, pretty, and good with weapons. Or Kayli? She's one of my students and is really good at hand-to-hand like you. And she once told me she's attracted to you," Ravella suggests.
"I get it Mom, really," he interrupts. "I'm just not really interested in that."
Ravella sighs.
"Your troubles could be because you need companionship; at least that's what I believe. If you feel otherwise then I'm not sure how to help you, but don't dismiss the idea. Ok?"
"Ok," he sighs. "I just want something more to do, I just don't know what."
"Whatever you need, please know that all of us are willing to support you Marcus. You don't have to figure it out alone," she tells him.
"Thanks Mom," he replies quietly.
Nayli City - Chandrila
The shuttle comes to a stop in front of the apartment complex, the doors opening. Lara steps off of the shuttle with a friendly wave to the pilot, and makes her way towards the complex. The shuttle doors closes right after, and it speeds off to rejoin traffic in the streets.
Lara enters the main building and gets into the lift, pressing the button for her floor number. The lift doors close and it begins to rise, opening after a few seconds to give her access to her floor. She walks down the hallway and then pulls out her keycard, scanning it along the doors locking system. The door then slides open so that she can walk through, but as soon as she enters the apartment she yelps in fright as something narrowly shoots past her head.
"Ahh! What the-" she exclaims, whipping around.
"Oh my goodness, Lara!" Claynel sighs, breathing in relief. "I wasn't expecting you to walk in just now."
"Well- yeah!" she replies in aggravation, approaching the thrown object. "Wh- what was that?"
"It was a heavy ball. I was just practicing my skills," he replies.
Lara spots the spherical object in question, which is lying on the ground next to the disposal bin. She gestures with her hand and picks up the sphere using the force, turning around to face him and letting it hover in her hand with a raised eyebrow.
"You were using the Force... to practice your 'baller' skills?" she asks incredulously.
"I don't see much of a problem with it," he chuckles in response.
Lara sighs in exasperation, setting the ball down on the kitchen counter. Her father was sitting in a chair at the dining table, his cane resting against the wall beside him. Thanks to her job she managed to move them out of that horrible place they were living in before, now living in a cleaner and safer environment. The apartment was by no means top quality, it was still very plain and a bit old, not terribly fancy at all; however for them it was good enough, and Lara worked to tidy up their new place a little bit. It certainly beats their former living conditions, where the area they stayed came with the risk of muggers banging down doors.
"Aren't you the one who said I should used the Force sparingly?" she asks him.
"Did I now?" Claynel replies thoughtfully; at the same time he reaches his hand out and pulls the heavy ball over to him, resting it on the table. "Huh. Must've forgotten it."
"Oh daddy..." she sighs.
As Lara works on unpacking her things, Claynel instead works on pushing himself up to his feet, standing up and out of the chair. He shakily supports himself on the table, and Lara instantly rushes over to his side upon noticing his actions.
"Dad, let me help," she says.
Lara wraps her arm around him to help support him out of the chair, reaching over and pulling his cane towards her with the Force. She allows him to grasp it in one hand, and then keeps a hold of his arm while he shuffles forwards, leaning heavily on his cane.
"Where do you want to go?" she asks him.
"Just to the couch," he sighs glumly.
Claynel takes shaky steps in the direction of the couch, which is situated in the living area, Lara supporting him the whole way. His legs wobble a little bit every few steps, forcing him to halt before he continues on his way. Finally, Lara eases him to sit down on the couch, and he collapses into it with an exhausted sigh, lying his cane down beside him. He breathes heavily for a few moments, disregarding some of the brief flashes of pain that stir up from the movement.
"Thank you," he says gratefully.
"Anytime," she replies. "What were you doing up today, might I ask?"
"I can't lie in bed all of the time now, can I?" he responds.
"What if you fell over? Who knows how long it would have been before someone could help you," Lara points out, expressing some of her disapproval.
"I wouldn't have fallen over, I can still move well enough," he says stubbornly.
Lara sighs, knowing his stubborn nature would make him want to continue persisting through doing whatever he wants to do. Despite knowing his condition, he just can't help himself when it comes to having the opportunity to move around freely, without being constrained.
"Still, just keep the communicator with you at all times Dad, just in case. Please," Lara asks seriously.
"I know, I do," he reassures her, sighing once more. "So how was work today?"
"As good as it can get, I suppose," she shrugs in response, going back to sorting through her day items, having also bought a small bag of food items on the way back from the hospital. "Dr. Zirash had to amputate a man's leg today."
"Oh, goodness gracious. That poor fellow," Claynel comments.
"Apparently he got caught in the machinery at the factory he works at, and it started shredding his leg before they could stop it," Lara explains sadly.
"That's just terrible," he says sadly. "It's a real shame that to this day, factory workers still have to deal with unsafe conditions."
"Money comes first for the corporation I guess," she shrugs.
"Well, I hope that poor fellow manages to recover well enough," he remarks.
"Hmm hmm," she replies with a nod, placing some food into the cabinets. "Oh by the way, I'm going to be going out later tonight with Hamu."
"What for?" Claynel asks with a frown.
"Just to relax, spend time together. We're planning on going out to the city park for an hour or so," she tells him.
"So a date?" he demands, his frown deepening.
"It's not a date," Lara replies in exasperation.
"Sure sounds like one," he retorts. "You're just going to the city park?"
"Yeah. Only for an hour."
"An hour at most," Claynel states firmly. "And be back before it gets too dark!"
"Dad, I'm not a teenager anymore," she reminds him.
"You're still my daughter, and I'm not about to entertain the possibility of some wack-jobs deciding to target you if I can help it," he says with a stern glare.
"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea," Lara replies with a roll of her eyes.
TRANSLATIONS:
duse - rubbish, waste (Lit. unclean things)
Ki'ra - dang
get'shuk - Team game similar to meshgeroya, in that there are goals at either end of the pitch, except the players may handle the ball. Very similar to rugby; brutal, fast and painful.
dinii - lunatic
Biai yirhaou gar gev gotal'ur nari bat ner b'ami'r. - How about you stop making moves on my girl.
cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart
Nu draar - No way. Absolutely not. Never in a million years. Not on your life. (Emphatic disagreement and doubt. Lit: Not never. Mandos use double negatives for emphasis.)
K'atini - Suck it up!
Kandosii, ad - Well done, son
Vor entye (buir) - Thank you (father/mother)