AN: I hate that I have to say this but here I am. I love that people seem interested in this story. It makes my heart happy. BUT I do not want to commission any artwork. I will not pay for someone to make art of a fanfiction that I do for fun.
DO NOT CONTACT ME ABOUT COMMISIONING ARTWORK
If you want to create fanart, go for it. I'm all for it, but I will not PAY for you to do it. If I really want cover art or anything like that I'll do it myself.
Chapter 7: The Coming End
Jaster's entries and all holos he recorded are all spoken in Mando'a and will be fully in italics.
Visions will be in bold
Entry #2
Jaster was sitting on the edge of a bed, looking more tired than the holo before. He wore partial armor, his helmet set to the side.
"Hello there, little one. It has… It has been a hard day. You and your brother are playing with Guard Feemor and Guard Leader Cin at the moment. It has given me time to do this, and to calm. Find my center, as guard leader calls it. I have come from a meeting with the Jedi seer who is on the council. He's the reason Guard Feemor knows how to help you when you get them. The Jedi seer explained to me what types of visions there are, and which ones you are susceptible to. It was all very… complex. Guard Feemor was very helpful, in explaining the appearance and frequency of the visions to the Seer. Based on indicators, he believes you to be the same. A true seer. That what you see will come to pass, with little chance of variation. Feemor says your visions can be symbolic in nature or literal, depending on what the force wills."
Jaster sighed and leaned forward, hands covering his face.
"There is a chance that I may yet change the fate you have seen for me, but there is very little that can be done to change it. There is a traitor who will lead me to my death. I can only hope that your brother will yet be spared from the heartache of watching it happen. I can only hope that the two of you will heal from it. I do not leave you light hearted. My heart is heavy with the grief I will bring you. I do not want to leave my children, not for a long, long while."
Jaster sighed again and sat back upright. He simply sat there for a while before cracking a grin.
"I have spoken with Feemor. Last night I had extended the offer to have him join our house, but with my imminent demise I have asked if he would join our clan. Our clan of three is already so small, it would give me comfort to know that there would be one more member. I made it clear I wasn't trying to steal him from Cin, though I wouldn't be against it. Maybe I should extend the offer to Cin if that's what it takes? That kid has the right stuff, he would be a good child of Mandalore. He will meditate on it. I plan on making my arrangements after this, make sure you and your brother will be taken care of after I am marching far ahead. Your brother may be past her verd'goten, but he is still my child and I will worry for him. It is my job as a parent.
7936.21.6
Everything was covered in white. Tall old pine trees barely bent under the heavy weight of snow on its branches. The bright sun reflected harshly against the snow. Everything there was harsh and cold, both the environment and the force.
He felt like he was going to be sick, but didn't know why.
Everything felt like pain.
The planet felt sick.
Cold and cracked.
Then he heard the drums.
War drums
Hard and heavy
Rhythmically beating in time with his heart pumping.
It didn't come from the planet. It came from the sky above.
It came from the stars
The ground cracked and black goo bubbled from the rocks, rising.
He ran
He climbed on rocks, searching for higher ground as the goo rose higher and higher.
A creature rose from the black bubbles.
A large beak came forth
And then fire red eyes.
He screamed.
It was coming for him.
He tried to run
Tried to climb the biggest pine tree
It took to the air.
Large leathery wings stirred up the air.
Its taloned feet grabbed him up. He screamed
It rose higher
Higher
And then the shriek hawk dropped him.
The air whistled in his ears even as the drums beat harder.
When he hit the ground everything fell silent
The force
The stars
Even the air itself.
He landed on the snow
Cold
Barely yielding.
The cold burned his lungs.
He coughed, and pulled himself to his knees.
The white snow was red
Slowly he looked up
Destruction was all around.
Destruction and bodies
He choked
No
No
Nononononono
He knew these bodies
He knew the paint on their armor.
He crawled forward on his hands and knees and dropped next to the nearest body. He pulled at the arm, tears blurring his vision. When he turned them over he almost vomited. Only half turned, the other remained bisected. His hands fumbled under the buy'ce trying to force it off.
Hoping in all vain that it wasn't him
Deep blue skin was revealed
Familiar silky black hair buzzed close to his scalp
And wide unseeing red eyes stared up at him.
He bit back the sob
Myles
There was a familiar snap hiss and his blood felt as cold as the snow.
He looked up as the green lightsaber swung.
...
Ben came aware with a choked scream. He rolled over in his cot and slowly sat up. He was covered in a layer of sweat, hair plastered to his skin. He heaved for breath, to calm his beating heart, ease his presence in the force.
A pillow sailed across the room and smacked him in the face. He blinked.
Narrow ice blue eyes glared at him from across the room.
Bruck.
Ben sighed and stood on shaking feet.
If he woke Bruck up it was best to go elsewhere to find his balance. It would only be a matter of seconds before Bruck tried to pick a fight, then everyone would be up.
He slipped from the room, feet still bare, and wandered into the hall.
He felt cold. It might have been from the snow in the vision lingering. A shudder ran up his spine. His jaw was sore and gums hurt, probably from clenching his teeth so tightly. He rubbed his jaw and sighed.
It was quiet, as it usually was during the night cycle. Most masters weren't nocturnal, or sleepless, so the usually bustling halls were empty and silent. The lights in the corridors were dimmed to be easier on any eyes. Shadows leaked in every corner. Ben walked, and walked, weaving around the corridors with ease.
There was a throat clearing and Ben froze.
He turned slowly, face going pink.
"Su'cuy Aran Kakovidir." Ben grinned.
When Aran Kakovidir didn't respond he lowered his gaze and stared at the floor. He bit his lip and waited. The aran sighed.
"I had a vision. It woke Bruck up." Ben whispered, toeing the floor. Then he looked up. "Can I go to my room?"
The aran's faceless mask stared at him for a moment before he raised his Kom'rk, tapped it, and started walking. Ben followed after him, and then after a moment of hesitation, took his hand. He felt Kakovidir stiffen, his whole hand twitched like he wanted to pull away. His presence in the force curled inward and slowly Ben relieved his hand.
He forgot Aran Kakovidir didn't like younglings, even Ben.
"N'eparavu takisit" Ben whispered, tucking his hands close to his stomach like some of the masters did when they wore their robes.
Something touched his head and Ben looked up, shocked.
Aran Kakovidir was standing closer, gently patting his head… kind of robotically.
Well… at least he was trying?
Aran Kakovidir walked with him towards the Aran'e'yaim entrance, and waited for Ben to slip inside before continuing his patrol.
Hopefully it wouldn't end up in a report… right? Master Cin didn't like it when he wandered at night, and would scold him in the morning. But the temple was safe. He didn't get near the outside, which was where it was dangerous for him to be alone.
"Ben, what are you doing here?" La'men shouted and Ben winced, knowing every off duty eye in the common area was now on him.
"Couldn't sleep. Didn't want Bruck to fight with me and wake everyone. Bant is mean when she doesn't get sleep." Ben mumbled, staring at the ground. There was a ripple of something in the force around them, but Ben didn't know what it was. Finally La'men walked up to him and swung an arm over Ben's shoulders.
"Well kid, it's a bit late for you to be eating Tiingilar, I think. But I've got some uj'alayi from Keldab'ika and some cassius tea." La'men offered, leading Ben towards his sacred kitchen. Ben paused outside the doors to the kitchen and looked down
"La'men I don't have shoes on."
"Mmm… That is a problem. No shoes, no kitchen, them's the rules, well same with shirts, but thats different. Lets see…" La'men pondered, his lekku curled and uncurled as he thought. Then he grinned. He leaned down like it was a secret and Ben perked up.
"How bout you run off to your apartment, I'll whip up the snack and bring it to you?" He offered.
Ben smiled and nodded.
"You want company or want to try to sleep after your snack?" La'men asked. Ben thought about it, he did. But… the karyai was his space. His space away from everything in the temple.
"Not tonight, thank you."
"Alrighty then kiddo, go get settled, I'll bring you the snack." La'men pushed him back towards the common space and slid inside his kitchen.
He kept to himself, nodding to a few of the off duty Aran'e as he made his way towards his apartment. It was his more than anything now. Buir and Jango used to talk about their Yaim, back home. Ben remembered it a bit, but now this was what yaim looked like. In a corridor of plain beige, and plain doors, there was his door. Reliable bright blue, outlined in shereshoy orange. He and Jango pressed handprints in gray on either side of the door, and right in the middle in red, the symbol they now wore around their neck. The protection symbol.
Ben touched the symbol on the door before palming the door open and sliding in. He turned the lights on low and pulled out the pillows and blankets, making a nice nest in the karyai. He pulled out a snack tray and set it in the nest, making sure it wouldn't tip and then, after a moment of hesitation, pulled out the holo projector.
His door chimed and Ben bounced up and to the door.
"Here ya go kiddo, all warm and ready. Make sure to rest up, lek?"
"Lek, La'men. Vor'e!" Ben took the tray and bobbed a head.
"Jate'ca, Ben'ika" La'men ruffled his hair.
"Jate'ca"
The door slid shut and he took the try to his snack tray in the karyai. Once he was nestled up and burrowed into his little nest. He turned the holo projector on and sipped at his tea. He came across this recording early on, and he loved it. Buir had a whole set of them for when he couldn't sleep. He wasn't sure how long he worked on it, but he was thankful.
His buir came on the projector and he bit back a sob. He missed his buir, still. It still hurt like a fresh wound. After all this time, he thought it would scab over, but it never did.
"You, my child, should be asleep. Hmm? Why are you awake, my child?"
Buir's deep voice made his heart ache. Buir was sitting down, looking at him with concern. His eyes watered immediately, and he used the force to pull over a blanket that still smelled like buir. He snuggled into it, pressing his nose into the fabric.
"I had a vision Buir, it was scary." Ben mumbled.
"Have you meditated? I am told by the Jedi seer that meditation can help."
"I tried buir, but it woke Bruck up. And if I stayed he'd fight with me, and then everyone would wake up."
"Well, you're here, so I will trust you know what you need to do to center yourself. Shall I tell you a story to help you sleep, my child."
Ben curled up, and nodded. His father's voice filled the room as he wove through the story about Mand'alor the first. He heard the story dozens of times, and didn't really want to think of it. Instead he closed his eyes and let it help him drift off to sleep.
...
"Don't chase revenge."
"I'm not leaving"
"I can't lose you"
His ori'vod was taller now, his shoulders strong and broad like buir. He donned his beskar'gam with pride, but the yellow on it stood out like an ugly scar.
Revenge.
Always revenge.
He turned his back on Ben, pulling his buy'ce on as he started walking away.
Ben chased after him, hand reaching out for his belt. A tether to his ori'vod. But each time his hand grabbed his ori'vod was just out of reach.
"Ori'vod don't leave me." Ben begged.
"I'm not leaving." Jango said, not turning back.
The landscape changed with each step, but Ben refused to be left behind, chasing after his ori'vod like a strill on a scent.
Then a shriek hawk flew past them, and it turned into a large mando in kyr'tsad colors and a saber on his hip. Somehow Ben knew the man was grinning at Jango, mocking him.
Jango took the bait.
He charged.
"Jango don't!"
"He needs to die! For Buir!" Jango shouted, chasing him.
Ben ran after him, trying all he could to stop his brother.
Then they came to a cliff.
The mando flipped Jango a rude gesture and jumped from the cliff with his jetpack.
"Jango don't you have a jetpack you can't!"
"He needs to die!"
"Don't-" Ben screamed but Jango jumped off the cliff.
He raced to the edge, fingers missing his ori'vod by inches. Below was a mass of darkness. An empty void.
7936.22.6
Cin watched the initiate class with narrow eyes.
The initiates were all getting to that age where they were really looking for a master, if they hadn't had one already. The Kybuck clan was scheduled to head to Illum in two months for the gathering, and then things would really get interesting.
Armed younglings.
Joy of all joys.
If Cin had it his way the little ones wouldn't get a proper lightsaber until they were chosen as a padawan, but it wasn't his choice. Instead he watched as Master Sinube lectured the younglings on the importance of lightsaber safety.
Your lightsaber is your life.
Most of them looked bored.
Which was understandable, because to them Master Sinube seemed older than even Master Yoda.
But what really had his attention was Ben.
He looked more bored than the others, which in his defense was understandable. Weapons safety was driven into him from a very young age. After all, Mandos were walking arsonals, with more blasters, knives, missiles, and who knows what else than could be easily seen on their person. Little hands needed to know that yes weapons can be fun, but they are not toys. They revered weapons and armor, beskar and self-defense.
Ben had been excited months ago at the news of getting to make his own lightsaber, but that excitement had ebbed. Ben was not allowed to go without the explicit approval of the goran and his aliit'alor. The goran's t-visor stared at him blankly for several moments when he was asked before tipping in Ben's direction.
"Alor'ika, me'copaani? Jetii'kad?"
Ben perked up and nodded "Elek!"
"Let the ad have a lightsaber."
And that was the end of what the goran had to say.
Jango's approval had been more difficult. Mostly because it had been nearly a year since he visited, and their transmissions for the past few months had gone unanswered. Without Jango's permission, it was looking more and more likely that Ben would not be attending the gathering with his clan.
Cin was angry, naturally.
Jango was Ben's brother, and kriff it all, the boy looked up to his older brother like he hung the sky and stars. Always had. He clung closer to him after Jaster died. Each week without contact was like watching the boy slowly wither.
His visions were getting more and more frequent, and his openness about them had disappeared after Jaster. He trained harder and more fervently on his shielding. He sought comfort after them less often. It didn't pass Cin's notice when Ben would have short visions in saber classes, moments when his gaze went far, when he reacted more instinctually than what initiates usually did when answering to the force's prompting.
He received Jaa's report first thing in the morning. Jaa came across Initiate Kenobi late the night before wandering the corridors in his sleep clothes. When Jaa approached him the child claimed he had a vision and it woke another initiate. Then he asked if he could go to his room. After a moment of deliberation, and a confirmation message from the patrol by the creche that the masters weren't looking for the youngling, escorted the boy to the guard quarters and saw him safely inside.
He received a few private messages after the report came in, just giving him the heads up that Ben was breaking his fast with the guard before going to class. La'men mentioned that even though the boy broke fast with them, he barely ate.
But now, looking at him, something was off with the boy. Something more than usual.
He had dark circles under his eyes, and a layer of sweat that had no right to be there. He also looked a tad too pale. Padawan Vos nudged Initiate Eerin out of his way to slide up next to Ben. He was discrete, Cin praised his skills to act without notice, as he pressed a hand to Ben's neck. He whispered something to Ben who only shook his head, and jutted his chin towards their lecturing master.
Cin frowned and made a mental note to pull Ben aside after the lesson.
An hour later, Cin didn't need to approach the youngling, because Padawan Vos shooed away the other initiates and dragged Ben over to him by his arm.
"Master Drallig, Obi's sick." Vos said looking up at him like he could do something about it. Cin held back the sigh he felt as he bent down to feel Ben's forehead. It was burning to the touch and slick with sweat.
"When did this start?" Cin asked.
Ben shrugged, not looking at Cin. His hand moved to pinch Ben's chin to force him to look up. When he rose his brows the boy sighed.
"I woke up feeling off." Ben mumbled. "Thought it was because of the visions."
"You are burning a fever, off to the halls with you." Cin ordered.
Ben groaned, and Cin shot him an unimpressed look.
"I'll make sure he gets there, Master. Thanks!" Vos grabbed Ben and was pulling him away before the words caught up with him.
This time he did sigh.
He shot off a message to the teachers for the day that Initiate Kenobi was being taken to the halls of healing by Padawan Vos and to excuse them from class until cleared by a healer. Then he pulled up a private chat.
C: Thought you should know your kid's skipping classes to take his friend to the healers
T: …
T: Am I to assume you mean Initiate Kenobi?
C: Yes. Though Vos looked a little too excited to have a reason to drag Kenobi off.
T: Those two are stuck at the hip I swear. Always up to something.
T: Thank you for the notice
T: Think I can convince the council to let me have two padawans? My padawan seems far too invested in dragging Obi-Wan everywhere anyways
C: doubt it
C: and he's mine before yours
T: I'll share custody
C: No
7936.29.6
Feemor sat rubbing Ben's back as he heaved into the healer supplied bucket. Ben lasted less than a day in the halls before he started trying to sneak out. The poor cleaning droids had to be put in the vents to clean up the mess Ben left after he sicked up in his third escape attempt.
Healer Che finally took mercy on… everyone, and let Ben retire to his apartment under a strict supervisory rule. There had to be at least one adult with him at all times. Feemor did his best to make sure it was him, but like before, Ben was popular enough to earn a rotation of willing guards to sit at his sick bed. Not that Ben ever actually used a bed.
It was an apartment, there were three rooms in the apartment, each had a decent sized bed. Did he use any of the rooms to sleep in?
No.
Instead the main area of the apartment had pillows, sleep mats, and blankets piled up like a great nest, and that's where the child slept. Feemor assumed it was a cultural thing that they weren't told of, since Ben just seemed confused as to why he'd sleep in a closed room when there was the karyai.
It made things easier to take care of the kid though.
Che wasn't sure what was wrong. Not exactly. Besides the face Ben could not keep anything down, to a worrying degree. But what came up wasn't only stomach acid or food. Tests Che ran came back with venom. Concentrated venom.
The poor kid was all snot and tears whenever he was awake. Since his first vomit, he only kept asking for two people.
First, and most naturally, he kept crying for his father.
Second, he wanted his brother.
Cin called the goran, who came by when he could, rubbing the kid's back and whispering soothing words in mando'a. He also called Jango. Multiple times. None of them went through. So the goran agreed to do what he had to to get the Mand'alor to the temple for his vod'ika.
"I want Jango" Ben whined before gagging on vomit and bending over the bucket.
"I know, Ben'ika, I know." Feemor soothed, rubbing the kid's back. Once Ben was done, he pulled out the cold wet cloth he kept in a chilled water basin and pressed it against Ben's neck.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door to the apartment opened without warning.
To his surprise it was Jango, being hauled in by the scruff of his kute by the fully armored goran and a strange creature circling around his feet.
"Baatir gar vod'ika, Mand'alor." the goran growled as he threw Jango into the room and closed the door. Jango stumbled to his feet, almost tripping over the creature. Then he pulled off his buy'ce and blinked, looking confused before his face went pale.
"Ben'ika! What's wrong?" Jango shouted, rushing over.
Said child opened his mouth to answer only to turn green and heave into the bucket.
"Your brother's been sick." Feemor said, rubbing Ben's back. "We tried contacting you, to no avail."
Jango hovered over Ben, worriedly running his hands over Ben's shoulders and head. The creature also barreled over, licking, nearly knocking Feemor over to get to Ben. It nosed Ben's hands, forcing its wide head into Ben's hands.
"I'm so sorry Ben. I'm here now." Jango pressed a kiss to Ben's sweaty forehead. Then he looked to Feemor. "What's he sick with?"
"The healers aren't sure. He can't keep anything down, but what comes up also includes large amounts of venom."
"You think this is a biology thing?" Jango asked.
"We don't know. Possibly?" Feemor ventured.
"I'll go see if Buir left anything in his records about this." Jango stood and went straight for one of the rooms. The creature whined and started licking Ben's face. Feemor's nose scrunched. Whatever the creature was, it smelled foul, especially as it opened its mouth to lick at Ben, who wavered between moaning in pain and giggling. Feemor sighed and pressed the cold cloth to Ben's neck.
"Your ori'vod's here now, Ben'ika. All's going to be alright." Feemor soothed quietly. Ben didn't respond more than a pained moan as he threw up into the bucket.
"So, what is this creature that your Ori'vod brought in with him?" Feemor asked, reaching to pet the leathery skin of the creature. As soon as his hand was within inches of the thing it snarled at him. Ben moved from hugging the bucket to hugging the creature who happily scrambled its six legs to get closer to Ben. He could hear Jango cursing as he dug through his belongings. After a minute the door to the room closed leaving Feemor and Ben in silence.
"Lord Isa." He mumbled pressing his face onto the top of the creature's head. "He's our strill."
"What's a strill? A pet?"
"Hmm… yeah. Strill's a mandalorian hunting animal. Isa had been Buir's ba'buir's when he was little."
"He must be very old."
"No really. Strill live very long. Like really long." Ben whispered, pressing his face into Lord Isa's gray fur. It panted like a pup happily as its tail swished back and forth.
"Want me to put something on the holo?" He asked. Ben nodded tiredly and hugged the strill tighter. Feemor grabbed the remote and turned it onto some holo-drama, and grinned.
"Hey Ben, do you want to know a secret?"
Ben's head tilted and looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Master Windu, loves the theater. Cannot get enough of it. Especially dramas. I know for a fact, he has watched this series multiple times." Feemor grinned.
Ben snickered and leaned against one of the pillows, eyes sparkling as he watched the drama. Lord Isa curled up around Ben, lazily licking at him. Knowing that the creature was looking over Ben he took the time to get up and see if Ben could keep a glass of water down, and take the meds Che prescribed. Feemor puttered around the mini kitchen, keeping an ear out for Ben as he moved around. He heard the door open again and whispering before he came from the kitchen. Jango was sitting on the floor in front of Ben, running a hand through Ben's hair.
"Aran Feemor, can you get some juice? Something sweet and cold? And a bowl of tiingilar, if there's any?" Jango requested. Feemor raised an eyebrow.
"I can get the juice… but I don't think the tiingilar would be good-"
"Buir said the spice might actually settle his stomach some."
Feemor nodded slowly and handed Ben the glass of water and meds. His nose scrunched but he took it quickly, gaging slightly. Then he left, heading to the kitchens with a frown. Something was up, and he didn't know what.
"How's the kid?" La'men asked when he approached the kitchen window.
"Sick as a dog, still. Jango's here, thinks juice and tiingilar would help."
"Tiingilar? Really? Huh, mandos are weird. Wouldn't want that to come back up, but whatever. I've got a pot going." La'men grunted and disappeared into the kitchen.
The force tingled as he waited, anticipatory. He tilted his head and reached for it. It bounced around him like an excited animal, dancing just out of reach every time he tried to figure it out.
Hurry.
So as soon as he received a pitcher of juice and a large bowl of tiingilar he made his way back to the Mereel apartment. Cin had come from the other direction and raised an eyebrow when they met in front of the door.
So as soon as he received a pitcher of juice and a large bowl of tiingilar he made his way back to the Mereel apartment. Cin had come from the other direction and raised an eyebrow when they met in front of the door.
"Juice and stew?"
"Jango asked for it." Feemor shrugged. "What are you doing here?"
"Jango messaged me, told me to come."
"He's up to something."
"Probably." Cin grinned and pushed the door open.
The boys were in the main room together. But the scene made them both pause. Jango had Ben huddled against the couch, hovering over him while holding his face. He had two thumbs rubbing over Ben's teeth while he whined and wiggled trying to get free. Lord Isa paced around the two, unsure what to do.
"Stop moving, this'll help." Jango hissed.
"I ont ant ur fumbs" Ben whined trying to get away, teeth snapping.
"Don't bite!"
"Do I want to ask?" Cin asked.
Jango spun around, moving his hands from biting range. Carefully the Mand'alor extracted himself from his little brother, and took the juice pitcher, disappearing into the little kitchen. He never answered so Feemor just shook his head and handed to tiingilar to Ben. Ben slowly started munching, having to twist out of the way of the nosy strill who had become very interested in the meal. A second later Jango returned with two glasses of the juice.
"Drink." He ordered. Holding the glasses out to Cin and Feemor.
"I thought this was for Ben?" Feemor asked.
"It's for you, drink." He ordered again, forcing them in their hands. He disappeared back in the kitchen and returned with a third glass which he downed a second later. Feemor shot Cin a glance. He didn't seem to notice, just shrugged and downed the glass like it was a cocktail. Feemor sighed and replicated. Cin started coughing and sputtering and a second too late he realized why. As soon as the sweet juice touched his tongue he knew something was wrong. There was a different flavor in it, something bitter… minty and slightly metallic in it. It burned as he swallowed and he coughed as soon as the glass was empty. The force seemed settled now.
"What was in that?" Cin coughed. Jango winced and shuddered.
"It is best not to think about it." he mumbled, taking the empty glasses back to the sink
"But what was it?" Feemor asked.
"It'll mark you as family."
Feemor stared at him, then looked at Ben, who was still happily munching at the tiingilar.
Mark as family.
The bucket was empty.
"Jango… did I just drink Ben's vomit?" He asked carefully and Jango's nose wrinkled.
"I told you not to think about it. It's concentrated venom. It won't kill you, it's only a teaspoon or so. If you drink some each day for three weeks it'll build your immunity to his venom, and the pheromones in it will mark you as family."
"Wha-"
"It was his choice. I'll stay for the next three weeks, to make sure Ben's doing good, and to give you the proper dosage of venom."
Cin sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he looked back to Ben who had laughed for the first time in months. He was on the floor, fighting with the strill over the bowl. Its large mouth and tongue chased after the bowl while Ben pushed at its face.
"Do you remember it?" Jango asked, moving back into the main room. Ben looked up and smiled.
"'Course."
"Really? You were really little last time you saw it."
"You used to put me on its back so I could ride it. You had to chase us one day in the yard cause we got out." Ben grinned widely.
"I'm surprised you remembered that. You were still a babe." Jango murmured and sat down next to Ben. The two boys curled up on the pillows and turned their attention to the holo-drama. Ben leaned against Jango and in a few moments he was asleep peacefully against Jango, the strill laid across their laps.
Mando'a:
Su'cuy: Hi
Aran: guard
Kakovidir: Cower
N'eparavu takisit: sorry (lit: I eat my insult)
Tiingilar: blisteringly spicy Mandalorian casserole
Karyai: main living room of a traditional north Mandalorian house - a single big chamber for eating, talking, resting, and even the last secure stronghold when under attack
Yaim: home
Shereshoy: lust for life and much more - uniquely Mandalorian word, meaning the enjoyment of each day and the determination to seek and grab every possible experience, as well as surviving to see the next day - hanging onto life and relishing it. An understandable state of mind/ emotion for a warrior people. Closely related to the words for live, hunt and stay safe - and, of course *oya*. All from the same root.
Vor'e!: Thanks!
Jate' ca: goodnight
Alor'ika: little leader
Me'copaani?: What do you want? What would you like?
Jetii'kad: lightsaber?
Ori'vod: older brother
Baatir gar vod'ika, Mand'alor: care (worry about) your little brother, Mand'alor