Fields of Kyrimorut, Mandalore
The sun was still hovering low over the horizon when Kal Skirata walked outside onto the field. White clouds of mist still covered the landscape, making the morning air taste cold and fresh. The frozen dirt crunched beneath his boots as he and a visibly good-humored Walon Vau were walking side by side along the pathway, deep in discussion.
"We're certainly not putting a cabin here, Walon."
"A hunting lodge."
"Hunting lodge for what? We are Mandoade!"
"Exactly." Walon Vau grinned. It was a familiar spectacle among the boys: the good old Walon Vau and Kal Skirata, acting like an old married couple, bickering and fighting over everything. Even the smallest events were enough to set them off, both genuinely enjoying getting the other one mad.
"No, I'm sticking to it. No cabin for you." Skirata pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He did not have the nerve nor the will to discuss such trivialities, when there were more important things to attend to.
"Hunting lodge," intoned Vau, shaking his head in disbelief. "I am telling you, a hunting lodge like this offers numerous strategic -" he didn't get any further than that. Just as he was starting to list off the numerous strategic benefits his hunting lodge would offer them, Skirata's comlink beeped. It wasn't the usual signaling tone indicating that he had an incoming message - it was a high, continuous sound that revealed that the incoming call was of the unsecured kind. An unsecured direct call. It had been aimed at his own, private and, well, secret frequency directly. A frequency that not many people in this Galaxy knew of. Whoever had dialed him hadn't done so on accident.
Both Vau and Skirata stopped walking. Skirata took the beeping communicator off his belt. The flashing red dot on the display indicated that the tracking program that Jaing had once put on it had finished locating the caller. They were a pack of clever little boys, his sons. Skirata was smiling to himself as he pressed the red button that would tell him the caller's exact location as well as the frequency they were using. He pressed the red button and his breathing stopped.
"What?" asked Vau as Skirata continued to stared wide-eyed at the display.
Wordlessly, Skirata handed him the comlink. Vau gulped as he read the numbers displayed on the display.
"How long since you've seen this frequency, Kal'ika?" The fight was forgotten, it seemed. Skirata was back to being 'Kal'ika', little Kal, friend. Vau handed him back the communicator.
Skirata took the comlink. "Too long," he said and pressed the button for 'accept'.
The sun was rising steadily, making the snow glisten around them. Their breaths formed white clouds that rose into the cold morning air in front of their noses, as the two sergeants stood side by side, bent around the comlink, listening to the static creaking emanating from it. Then, a loud cracking sound and, "Ni ceta?", a familiar, sorely missed voice spoke.
"Adika!" Skirata said with glistening eyes. Finally, it's high time for you to come home.