Qihn, Pyth Prime

Kavala sat at a picnic table in a garden being kept by the whole village of Qihn. Her first time here, Kavala had asked someone what the names of every last flower and fern were, committing them to memory. Or, at least, trying to. Something new would replace that information at some point in the near future. For the moment, her focus was on cleaning her disassembled carbine.

It was a balmy evening, Pyth Prime's sun starting to turn the horizon into a smear of red-orange. Kavala, overall, liked this planet, and would have liked it even more if not for the unfortunate presence of dar'manda led gangers. The people of Qihn, at least, seemed to finally be understanding just what was at stake and why the coming battle was necessary. Their food was good, too. There was just one mynock in the proverbial hanger.

Kavala heard heavy footfalls against the paving stones of the garden path and suppressed a heavy sigh. It was, unfortunately, past time for playing nice.

"Evenin', Miss Kavala. Fancy seeing you here." Said Tol, one of Toc's twins. The younger of the two, as he had joked far too many times already.

Kavala glanced up from her work. Tol wore militia armor and rested a hand on the grip of an outdated but still serviceable blaster.

"Tol." Kavala said in a neutral greeting.

"Hard at work, I see." Tol said, eyes on the horizon for the moment.

"Yep." The zygerrian said.

"You ever give yourself a break?"

"When I can."

Tol nodded.

Kavala kept working.

Painful seconds ticked by.

"So, Miss Kavala, I got to thinking…", Tol began, but trailed off.

That must have been painful. Kavala thought, but held that uncharitable thought back. Obliviousness aside, it wasn't as if Tol had been rude. Yet.

"About?" Kavala prompted, wanting this over with.

"Once this whole thing is over, if you're still around for a little bit, maybe we…maybe…", he cleared his throat.

"You want to go on a date." Kavala finished for him.

"Yeah, that's it." Tol brightened, turned a square-jawed face toward her as if she had already said yes.

Kavala set what she was working on down on a towel and looked up at him. "I'm flattered, but the answer is no, thank you." She kept her words polite in tone, but offered no apology for her denial.

"Oh." Tol said, a frown creasing his face. "What if…what if I prove myself in the fight? Kill a bunch of gangers for you?"

Kavala closed her eyes. "You think because I'm Mandalorian that's how you'll win my favor or something like that?"

"Uh. Well…when you put it that way…" Tol mumbled.

"Look. Tol." Kavala held up a hand. "I get what you want. I'm not interested. If you're looking for a friend, there's no such thing as too many of those. But what you're looking for, I don't want from anybody, not just you. Never crossed my mind and never been important to me. It's nothing personal."

"Oh." Tol said again. He scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah." Kavala said.

Tol nodded several times, looking around, then, "well, uh…fair enough…I guess I'll…see you around."

He left the garden.

Kavala shrugged, beginning to reassemble her carbine. Not for the first time, she wondered how this always seemed to happen. It had occurred back on Pyth Prime during the victory celebration, too. Was nobody in the Galaxy that was her age interested in just being friends?

There were times, rarely, when Kavala started to wonder if something was wrong with her. She did seem to be a common denominator of sorts. But then, Jodihan's words would come to her.

All are one in the Resol'nare. Hold to the Actions, and whatever else you might be, you are Mando'ade. If another won't accept you, that's their problem, not yours.

Kavala smiled. She hoped they would have a chance to visit Jodihan soon.

With her carbine reassembled, Kavala took a deep breath of the floral air around her. She drew out her beskad, beginning to sharpen it, humming quietly to herself.

Zej left the central dome of Qihn, walking out into the night. She was fully armed, clad in her fibermesh jumpsuit, making her way to the perimeter to take a watch position. The people of Qihn would be toiling into the night as they prepared for the battle that was to come.

Was it all for naught? Maybe. Zej was confident she could end this battle before it began. An abandoned Hutt palace occupied by raider scum would be far from the most secure place she had infiltrated. But, Cazur had advised caution. A failure would prompt the Aruetti to attack before the defenses were ready, before the noncombatants were in relative safety. Zej could accept that logic, but there was some part of her that felt it was worth the risk to try.

Instead, here she was, about to go stare out into the darkness for another night. Zej, as always, hated the waiting before the violence. At least she knew what to do when the bloodletting started.

It was interesting, in a morbid way, to consider how Zej had ended up where she currently was. As much as she wanted to share her past with her new crew, Zej was, if she was honest with herself, glad for the way things were. None of them asked. None of them seemed to care. The present was what mattered to them. If these four Mandalorians could allow Zej to leave her past behind, maybe she could eventually learn to do so herself. So, perhaps it was selfish, but for the moment, Zej was as close to content as she had been for a very long time.

Most of the lookout posts were simply second-story rooms in the houses that made up the outer ring of Qihn's buildings. Zej announced herself through the front door before entering, ascending the stairs that were immediately across from her. As she reached the top, she heard a strange noise that caused her to pause and bring a hand to her blaster. It was only after a few moments of silent listening that Zej realized what she was hearing was the sound of someone crying.

"Shey?" Zej asked. It was the name Meshey, the guard she was replacing, preferred to go by. Zej had replaced her every night while in Qihn, but this was the first time for anything beyond a few pleasantries before Shey went off to bed.

There was a loud sniff, then, "oh, s-sorry, Miss Zej. I didn't hear you coming in."

Zej entered the room where Shey was keeping watch. She was a short woman in her early twenties, with light brown skin and an abundance of freckles. Though she wore a militia uniform and had a rifle propped between her knees, Shey didn't currently look like a fighter. She looked like…well, a very scared person on the verge of a battle.

"You have nothing to apologize for." Zej assured her as she entered the room. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just scared. I've never been in a real fight before. Chased off some livestock rustlers with some shots in the air, but…but nothing like what's coming." Shey said, her voice unsteady. She wiped her eyes on a sleeve.

Zej dragged a chair from be in front of a writing desk and set it before the one Shey was sitting in.

"It's alright to be scared." Zej assured her.

"You don't look scared. No one from your ship does. How do you do it?" Shey asked, searching Zej's face for an answer. Even had the room been well lit, Shey would not have found one.

"To be honest with you, Shey, I don't fear for myself in battle. I was trained to fear failure more than my own injury or death." Zej said. "But that's the thing. Everyone is afraid for something. I can assure you, even my Mandalorian friends are. Courage happens in the face of fear, not in its absence." Zej offered an encouraging smile by the light of the moon. "I know that, when the time comes, you'll stand fast. You'll do your part to protect your home and the people you love. I know you will."

"I will." Shey agreed, wiping her eyes again. "Can I…can I stay here for a little bit? I'm not ready to walk home alone yet."

"Stay as long as you need." Zej said. She wished she could help more, but she didn't know how. An idea struck her. It was probably silly, but she couldn't think of anything else. "You know…there's a song my mother used to sing to me when I was afraid or sad. It still makes me feel better even now. Would you like to hear it?"

Shey was surprised by the offer, but she nodded.

And so Zej sang. It was in Ryl, the language of the twi'leks. It was a folk song telling the tale of a young twi'lek who found herself lost far from home, trying to find her own worth in the wider world. At each step of her journey to find her way back, one of the spirits of the girl's ancestors would appear to explain to her how each of the things the girl did not like about herself was actually wonderful and uniquely good. It was, of course, not a narratively deep ballad attempting to confront the complicated idea of self-love. It was a children's song, meant to plant in the heads of young twi'leks that they each had more worth in themselves than they thought.

It was a rather long ballad, and by the end, Shey had actually drifted off in her chair, head slumped against the window sill. Zej concluded the song, the heroine stepping through the front door of her family's house with a new understanding of herself. Her own heart quieted, Zej turned her gaze to the surrounding Lowlands, letting Shey rest.

Outside, Zej did not see the individual that had been patrolling the perimeter only to be drawn by the noise of the twi'lek's song. Taking off his helmet to wipe away a tear that had formed alongside a longing ache at the melancholy song, Cazur continued his patrol, Zej's voice still echoing in his mind.