Mission grabbed a robe and wished too late that she had remembered slippers.  The cold floor stung her bare feet as she hurried towards the door.

Hydro was inconsolable, Jin looked like he had already entertained the idea of smothering the toddler several times over.  Dustil glared daggers.  Mission had no idea what the hell was going on, but was fairly certain that it would be her fault.  Naturally.  The sleeve of her robe fell off her shoulder.

“What time is it, boys?” she asked.  She desperately hoped it was exhaustion and not exasperation in her voice.

Purple cheeked and shrieking, Hydro flailed his arms until he escaped his father’s grasp.

Mission frowned.  “How long has he been like this?”  She crouched down in front of her son.  “What’s the matter, baby?”

Hydro glared at her and slapped her squarely in the forehead.  Instead of that action improving his mood, however, Hydro resorted to bellowing sobs, incoherent except for the occasional garbled, “Mama.”

“Oh, wow.”  Mission gathered the boy into her arms, pressed his head against her shoulder.  He retaliated by pounding his fists against her chest.  “Total meltdown, huh?”

There was a bubble of snot forming around one of the toddler’s nostrils and he forced spit through his clenched teeth.  Word’s failed, but Hydro managed to use his lekku.

Mission’s eyebrow shot up.  She tried to control her voice.  “They fed you choca and watched vids with you all day?  Sheesh, kiddo, that sounds like some horrible torture, there.”  She flashed Dustil a helpless expression.  “Any idea how this started?”

“You got knocked up and didn’t tell me for two years, until your blond boyfriend mentioned it. That’s how it started,” Dustil snapped.

“Oh, shut up.”  Mission started to pace. When the kid squirmed, she pulled him in tight against her chest and rubbed at his back until his thumb found it’s way to his mouth.  “There we go, feel better now?”

Hydro snorted.

“So.”  Mission glanced back at the men in her doorway.  “What’s up?”

“It’s not like that! I tried, it’s just I– I tried!”

“Well you obviously didn’t try HARD enough!”

“I know. It was wrong, but you wanted to leave- you left and I didn’t want to trap you into something! You’re right, you deserved to know, but phoq. I don’t know.”

Dustil rubbed his temples so hard he left little red welts. “Two years. I’ve been– two years.”

Mission wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m sorry.”

“Were you <i>ever</i> planning on telling me?”

“Yes!” She sighed. “Kept recording and deleting messages, nothing ever sounded right. Got worse with the more time that passed.”

Dustil shook his head. “You know what would have been a good message?” He crossed his arms tightly in front of himself and glared, “<i>Hey Dustil. I had your kid.</i> Or better yet. <i>Hey Dustil I’m pregnant.</i> Those would have been GREAT messages.”

Mission looked up at him. “Would you have even thought he was yours? That’s not like an everyday occurance, you know.”

“Well, I mean– you weren’t–” He frowned at her. “Were you sleeping with someone else?”

“No!”

“You with blondie now?” he gestured behind him to the living room where Mical and Mekel were sitting.

“Yes. I am.” Her lekku coiled tightly at her shoulders. “Your point?”

Dustil glared in their direction and breathed heavily through his nose. “Does <i>he</i> have some half-twi’lek kid hidden away somewhere that you haven’t told him about too or is that just a gift you kept for me?”

“You apparently are the only sentient in the galaxy that has sperm special enough to jump the frack damned species barrier,” Mission grumbled. “Leave Mical out of it, okay?”

“Oh right wouldn’t want to offend you,” Dustil waved his hands up in mock surrender, “You know, you being the mother of my child and all.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t want to be part of my life, remember? You wanted to leave. You were happy.”

Dustil shook his head. “I still would have wanted to know — I would have– you should have told me.”

“Well, now you know.” Mission laughed. “What do you want to do about it now?”

“I don’t know,” Dustil said darkly. “Maybe take him for two years and see how <i>you</i> like it.”

She had an unreadable expression. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t making a joke,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“Or what you’ll keep him away for another two years?” he raked a hand violently through his hair. “How could you be so fracking selfish you <i>know</i> I would have done something. I’ve been off for two years without knowing I’ve–” his voice cracked, “I can’t believe you.”

“You’d do what?” Mission’s hands balled into fists. “Say ‘oh yeah, that’s great’ and go off gallivanting with your bump-buddy or stick around and hate him for tying you down?” She pinned her fists beneath her arms. “You’re right, I should have told you. But he’s got people that would do anything for him and I didn’t want you to get guilted into anything.”

“Well you won’t know will you?” Dustil snapped. “Because you never told me. And you still don’t fracking think you did anything wrong. I’m his <i>father</i> Mission I should have–” he stepped back a minute and put his hand to his head. “Woah, okay I’m a little dizzy now.”

Mission nodded, forced a smile to her lips. “Yeah, you should have. Sorry.”

“Can I see him? What’s– I mean what did you name him?”

“Yeah, of course you can–” Her gaze fell to the floor. “Dustil. I named – his name is Dustil.”

Dustil just nodded at that and followed Mission towards a room in the back where half Dustil half Mission was staring at him blankly from behind a crib prison. He took a tentative step forward, all the while the kid’s eyes were watching him. Dark eyes. Not Mission’s.

“Hey… Dustil,” he said awkwardly.

The toddler blinked.

Dustil sighed and took another step forward reaching his arm out towards the toddler. And then the thing screamed. Loudly. Dustil stood in abject horror for a long moment before his fist hit the opposite wall.

“Hydro!”  Mission pressed an index finger against her son’s lips.

The toddler frowned and grabbed at her hand.  “No!”

She glanced over her shoulder.  “Get your ass back in here, Onasi!”  She turned back to her son.  “I got someone I want you to meet, baby.  Want to meet someone new?”

“No!”  He started to kick his pants off.

“So you want to take your pants off, then?”  Mission raised an eyebrow.

“No!”  He scowled.

“Right.  Silly me.”

Dustil walked back in glaring. “He hates me and it’s all your fault.”

Mission groaned.  “He doesn’t hate you.”  She crouched in front of the toddler.  “Do you hate him, Hydro?”

The boy pulled his pants off and placed them on her head.  “Choca.”

“Don’t look at me.”  She pointed a finger at Dustil.  “Over there, little man.”

“I see he’s gotten your sense of maturity,” Dustil commented dryly, but the was the tiniest curve on the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t just take my pants off, pal.”  Mission hoisted the toddler from his crib.  “You know who this is?”

He scrunched his face up and his head-tails shifted.

“Uh uh, use your mouth,” she said.

The boy exhaled a deep breath.  “Old guy?”

Mission closed her eyes.  “Close, kiddo.  Close.”

“Old? I’m twenty two,” Dustil snapped defensively.
“And that’s like eleven times how old you are, you should have said ancient.”  Mission smirked and whispered something into the kid’s ear.

Hydro, Dustil, Junior jerked his head away.  “Nuh uh.”

Mission raised an eyebrow.  “Uh huh.”

“Nuh uh.”  He giggled.  “No, no, no.”

“Don’t believe me?” she asked.  “Ask him.”

The toddler stared at Dustil, appraising him with those dark eyes.  Finally he crinked his nose and sighed.  “Daddy?”

Dustil’s chest felt tight. “Dustil,” he commented pointing towards the toddler.

“S’me.”  He squirmed in his mother’s grasp.

Mission set him down.  “I can uh, come back or something if you want, I mean, I’ll leave.”

“Yeah so he can start screaming again,” Dustil muttered under his breath.

“You’ll do fine.”  She scratched the hair at the base of the kid’s lekku and he batted her hand away with a scowl.  “The walls are pretty thin, just scream if he explodes or something.”

Dustil knelt down to the toddler’s level as Mission left the room. “Uh… hi, Dustil. So you’re two, huh?”

The boy’s eyes followed his mother to the door.  He watched as the door closed before looked back at Dustil.  He nodded and two fingers on each hand sprung up.

Dustil smiled. “That’s four, just one hand is two.” He held up two fingers on one hand.

The boy frowned and squinted his eyes at Dustil’s hand.  He reached out and wrapped a hand around his father’s metallic finger.  “Broke.”

“Mommy did that,” Dustil said in a sing song voice.

The kid blinked.  “Nuh uh.”

Dustil nodded emphatically. “Yeah. Do you know what a lightsaber is?” he brushed his thumb against tiny small hand still wrapped around his prosthetic finger.

He nodded and his eyes widened.  “No touch.”  He poked at the prosthetic.  “Want it.  Mommy’ll give it to me?”

“Nah, I’ve gotten used to my new one,” he poked the little pudgy middle of <i>his</i> kid experimentally. “But I appreciate the offer.”

The boy toddled back a few steps.  He scowled at his belly, looked up at Dustil and raised an eyebrow.  “Choca?”

Dustil patted himself down. “Afraid I’m all out, but –” he held out his hand. “Later I can take you out for whatever you want, Dustil.” Yeah. If he kept saying it maybe it wouldn’t sound weird

Dustil Junior nodded and flashed a grin.

Dustil hoisted him up in one quick throw. “So – what do you eat anyway? Fillet Mignon? Bantha steaks?” He quirked an eyebrow.

He shrugged.  “Choca!”  His eyes grew wider and his lips pulled into a pout.

Dustil snorted, “The pouting, definitely from your mother.”

“Not pou-ting, Daddy.”  His son reached up and tugged at a sideburn.

Dustil’s chest hurt, but not as much as his head. “Ow–ow– contrary to popular belief those aren’t handles,” he winced, prying tiny fingers off his sideburn.

His son gave him a friendly pat on the cheek.  “No handles?”

Dustil didn’t even know if he could get himself to stop staring and smiling. “No handles, but anything else you want — son.”

The only problem was two year old boys who didn’t fully understand that snow was cold.  A determined look was plastered on her son’s face as he forced his insulated pants down around his ankles.  One gust of wind and an eye blink later,  he was crying and she was running over to his side.

Mission grabbed the waist of his pants and started to shimmy them up where they belonged.  “Cold, huh, baby?”

Her son’s reply was a high pitched whining sob.

Mission nodded and scooped him up into her arms.  “I say we head inside, tell Daddy to make us some hot choca.  What do you say?”  She glanced at a drop of freezing snot on the shoulder of her jacket and didn’t bother with waiting for her son to say anything before she walked back inside.

The initial jarring heat of being indoors made her palms burn.  Mission took a glove off and rubbed the snot and tears off her son’s face with the heel of her hand.  He squirmed and tried to take his pants off again, his boots trapping them at his ankles.

“Sit down, Hydro,” Mission said.  “Let me help you out.”

“No!”  Hydro threw his hood back and wrenched off a lekku warmer before he toppled over.

Mission tried not to smirk.  The past had proven that any sort of amusement on her part would escalate the situation.  “Okay.  I don’t have to help.”

“No!”  He kicked his foot out at her.  “You do it.”

“Oh, I live to serve.”  She laughed and knelt down next to her son.  His boots were off with a few hard tugs and a glower later, he was scrambling towards the kitchen.

Hot choca was waiting in the kitchen when she headed in.  Hydro already had a steaming mug clamped in his chubby grip, his eyes carefully watching the man he called Daddy.

“Dustil,” Mical said.

Hydro’s eyes trailed over to glance at his mother briefly before he returned his attention to Mical.  The toddler pursed his lips and puffed two quick cooling breaths at the mug of choca and raised an eyebrow.

“That’s better.”  Mical uncrossed his arms.  He picked up a mug and walked over to Mission.

She took the mug from him and smiled.  “Hi.”

“You looked cold,” he said.

“Thanks.”  Mission took a sip.  A lock of blond hair had come loose and fallen over one eye.  It made him look overworked and sweet and it was hard to resist the urge to smooth it back for him.

Mical brushed it back with a hand.  “I thought it best to leave on a positive note.”

“I didn’t know you were so determined to head to Dantooine,” she muttered.

“I didn’t realize you were so determined to convince me otherwise.”  He grazed her jaw with a thumb.  “There have been rumors of Force sensitive activities in that area.  Perhaps even a Jedi Master.  Am I simply supposed to sit on this information?”

“I don’t have to like you going by yourself.”  Mission looked up at him and decided not for the first time that she liked his hair, long enough to tangle her fingers in.

Mical smiled.  “If I said come with me, you would, wouldn’t you?”  He sighed.  “Wasn’t the reason that we agreed on this arrangement was so that Dustil would never be put in danger and there would always be at least one of us with him?”

Mission traced her fingers along his collar and pulled him into a kiss.  She hated how Mical insisted on calling Hydro <i>Dustil.</i>  It was his name, true, but she couldn’t help shake the feeling that Mical was trying to make a point.  A point that she agreed with.

“I know.”  Mission nuzzled her nose against his throat.  “Won’t stop me from missing you.”

“I hope not,” he replied.

A splat and a giggle later and it became apparent that Hydro discovered he could finger paint on the kitchen floor with choca and whipped cream.

“It’s hard to find Force sensitives, Sith or not–” he said as Aishie’s eyes wandered over towards a couple of less than savery individuals Dash had met up with on one of his cruises towards indecision.

“I see.” She spread her hands out against robes that were stretched against a mother’s figure. “Need more?”

“How many do you got?” Dash said with a smile.

Aishie flicked her lekku and three kids came out of stealth and a few more out from under bushes and temple ornaments.

Dash’s eyebrows shot up. “You had twelve kids?” He glanced at one of them and felt a little sick, he lowered his voice to a hissing whisper. “You slept with a Rodian?”

Aishie let out an annoyed breath through her nose. “The Twi’leks are mine you idiot. I had three. The rest are refugees I’ve been helping.”

Dash put his hands on his hips. “I’ve been looking for resistance forces for years and you’ve just been sitting on them?”

“They’re kids,” Aishie snapped, defensively. “I wasn’t going to send them off to you to get slaughtered.”

Dash frowned but gave her that, he waved his hand briskly and walked towards the fountain. “Come on.”

Aishie followed next to him. “I can’t believe you’d think I’d sleep with a Rodian.”

“You’d sleep with a couple of Knights that looked like them.”

Aishie smacked him hard on the arm and shook her head. “Take us to our rooms, Dashall and then see if you and your troops can keep up.”

Well two times, he could have dodged that blast of acid a little quicker the last time he’d run into Darth Jin and he’d still be pretty.

It felt weird to actually owe his life to the sorry bastard.

It felt even weirder to punch in the numbers to Ryloth and call up someone he was sure was going to be dead before he was.

A grey Twi’lek answered the phone, looked a lot like Aishie, definitely in the eyes. “Hello?” she said warily.

Dash cleared his throat. “Uh, hey. Is Aishie there?”

Violet eyes narrowed. “Who’s asking?”

Dash shook his head. “Your mother did not train you right, kid. You’re already pretty much giving away that she’s there. The smart thing to do would have been to pretend you’d never heard of the name and then strike up a casual conversation with me.”

The Twi’lek curled her lekku up around her neck and stared blankly at Dash.

“Mita?” came a voice Dash hadn’t heard in far too long. A short wave ansible every two years with the words ‘alive’ wasn’t really working it for him.

The kid, Mita, turned towards off screen. “Some Red Zabrak’s asking for … someone named Aishie, Maada.”

“Red?” The visual on Dash’s end shut off. Smart woman. Then it switched on again and Mita was standing at her mother’s shoulder. “Dash? What’s wrong?”

Dash looked straight at the woman who looked almost unrecognizable. He wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between her and any other Twi’lek on Ryloth if he were trying. It was a smart place to hide.

Then he said what he’d been waiting ages to say. “Nothing is wrong, Aishie. Nothing is wrong at all.” Dash felt his scars stretch as he grinned. “The Benefactor’s dead. I’m trying to restart the Order here.”

Violet eyes blinked and then Aishie smile bright and wide. And Dash would have known her anyway. “You’re not just screwing with me?”

“Nope,” Dash shook his head. “That incident in the Docks on Fourteen? That was us. We took it down and–” He decided maybe leaving out the finer details was better. “Dustil’s kids, you know? And some other troops I’ve been hiding around, worked well into the system. Got it done.”

“After all this time,” Aishie said almost dreamily, her lekku floated against her shoulders. She opened her eyes wide and then turned towards Miti. “Go get your brothers and pack your bags, Deeah.”

There was a short exchange in pink and grey lekku that Dash couldn’t catch and the Mita took off down the corner.

“So I’ll take that as a yes, Pink?” Dash said, giving a sideways grin.

Aishie’s lekku turned up. “Take that as a – ‘it’s about time’ I’ve been as bored as poo-doo over here.”

“You women,” Dash said, letting his arms dangle at his sides – casual like, “always packing more than you need for away trips.”

The pink Twi’lek stalled for a second and then started to pack away more clothes. “I’m not going on an away mission, Dash and you know it.”

Dash could remember the exact moment Aishie had thought he was adult enough to drop the al from his name. He missed when he wasn’t. A lot less people were dead.

“You can’t go.”

Aishie sighed and turned from packing. She shot a violet eyed stare at him. “Dash. The Order’s dead. I can’t– there’s nothing to fight for anymore, the smart Jedi are going into the hiding and the rest–” She turned back towards her packing. “They’re not around anymore to fight.”

Dash let out a breath, it pushed the hair around his horns around and tickled skin below the bone. “You were the one that said the Order was all you had and that it was worth fighting for. They’re all a lot of Jedi have.” They were all Dash had now.

Aishie’s shoulders stiffened and she zipped up her suitcase. “It’s not the samenow.”

Dash felt like hitting her, but he wouldn’t. Sure he hadn’t lost someone that he’d been sleeping with, but Katta never speaking to him again, his mother gone forever and the rest of his friends in the Jedi drifting to the wind affected him just as much.

Though he’d never been married before. “Haal would have wanted you to stay and fight it out.”

Probably a blatant lie, any guy with Aishie would probably want her somewhere safe – the fact that she’d agree with them never occurred to Dash.

Aishie turned around and her lekku twisted. “No, he wouldn’t have.”

“I can’t believe you’re running scared,” Dash said, disgustedly, “Out of all the people I know, I thought I could at least count on you. There’s safety in numbers, Aish.”

“There isn’t.” Aishie twisted the straps on her back, dangling her fingers through the handle behind her. “You know who he’s been coming after, I’d just b putting other people at risk.”

Dash stared at the ground. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “To think I actually wanted to be friends with Dustil, look where it got me.”

Aishie stepped towards him, pink bare feet tipping daintily across the hard wood of her room. She lifted his chin up to meet her eyes. “It got you somewhere great, Dash. And you know this wasn’t Dustil’s fault.”

Dash looked away, soft fingers against his chin was too much right now. He stepped back and put his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that he died fighting and you’re going to run from it all.”

“Dash–”

“Give me a good reason,” Dash breathed, “just one that makes everything else you’ve ever said not stack up anymore.”

Aishie lifted up half her face in a sad little smile. “I’m pregnant.”

Dash took that moment every man must take to stack up that it wasn’t his. Especially since he’d never gotten farther than a friendly hug with Aishie. “Force.”

Aishie wrapped her arms around her waist. “Yeah.”

Dash let out a breath. “Where are you going to go?”

Aishie turned towards another set of luggage, she was putting her entire life into two bags. “Ryloth. Haal had some family up there I’m going to stay with.”

Dash had thought Aishie would be easy. That the girl that had fought to the last moment wouldn’t go anywhere. Now he just hoped he’d see her again. He pulled an arm around her and squished her to his chest. “Be careful, okay?”

“Dash–” Aishie stiffened a little, until she relaxed and hugged him back. “I will. Just–”

“Don’t worry about me,” Dash said with a disarming grin he didn’t feel and didn’t seem to work as well as it used to. “Never met a Sith before who left even a mark on me.”

Aishie leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you around, Dashall.”

Dash snorted. “You’d better.”

Somehow he was sure in his gut that was going to be the last time he saw her, but it didn’t make walking out the door any less hard.

It could hardly be better if it were real, but Mekel couldn’t stop shaking.

“Something bugging you, Mekk?” Telos pulled him back down on the bed. Hands everywhere suddenly. Skin to skin. So much you could die in it. For an illusion, it was very real. Real enough. All he had left.

“I’m fine.”

He had to be. Lydie and Ollie were safe. Safer now with Marla Korr’s death. Safer than ever.

“Our destinies are guided by the Force. Conspiracies, imaginary or otherwise, are meaningless.” She was weakening. Her words didn’t mean anything. She was nothing, her kind were finished. He moved in for the kill. 

She needed more practice. Although she had still taken the Gammorean down. She just hadn’t expected it to come down on her.

D opened the door. “I’m out of kolto,” she said, though with her broken nose that she was holding it sounded more like “Mm dout ub kolbo.”

D nodded and stepped back out of the doorway.  “Do I want to know what happened?”

“I broke a Gammorean’s fall,” Leni said, trying to enunciate it. It probably still sounded like gibberish.

“I see.”  He nodded towards the kitchen.  “Have a seat, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks,” Leni said trying to find her way to the chair from the blinding spots between her eyes.

D disappeared into the refresher, but Leni could hear someone else’s respiration in the room.

“Booboo?” Nita said.

Leni glanced down at Nita and tried to smile. “Big booboo.”

Nita took a few steps towards her and pressed a stuffed animal into Leni’s hand.

“Alright, got some kolto and gauze, but you might want to have a surgeon take a look at that nose,” D said as he came back into the kitchen.  “The kolto’ll heal it up, but without setting it, it could heal crooked, mess up your sinuses.

Leni patted Nita with her unbloodied hand, which was still cut up at the knuckles. “Thanks.” She turned towards D. “Um… sure? You happen to know where one is?” And how long she could put it off.

“There’s a nice one on the upper levels.”  D slapped a syringe down on the kitchen table.  “I could look up the address.  Might want to stuff your nose with gauze.  It’ll hurt and suck to sleep like that, but it’ll keep your nasal passage open.”

“Know from experience?” Leni picked up the syringe and shot it into her nose. The kolto took away most of the black spots and she could talk freely again. “Busted my ribs too. I think… but I’d probably know if they were broken.” She tore the gauze into strips and took D’s advice, it felt weird, but less painful.

She put her hand on the gizka and squeezed it a little.

“Well, it also involved climbing out of a window in leather pants.”  He looked embarrassed.  “Not really a child-friendly story, but let’s just say that leather doesn’t have a lot of give to it.”

Leni snorted and almost blew out the gauze. “I should have rolled over. I’m out of practice.” She winced and held her side. “How bad will my sinuses be if I don’t go?”

“If they heal wrong, think about breathing through your mouth permanently.”

Leni blew out some air and closed her eyes in a wince. “Probably should get it over with then.” If she could get the guts to back to a hospital. It had been six years. “So leather pants, huh?”

D snorted.  “I learned my lesson.”

“My Na’an tried to put me in this traditional Alderaanian dress once–” Leni made a waving motion with her hand to describe the flow. “Three corsets. I tripped into a fourteen piece orchestra.”

“Three?”  He pulled a chair out and sat down.  “So the one was to squeeze all the air out of you lungs and push your rack up to your chin, but what were the other two for?  Decoration?”

“Stomach and I still don’t know…” Leni snorted, winced and shifted so she was leaning against the chair on her good side. “She gave up after that thankfully.”

“The surgeon might want to talk you into letting him shave the bump off the tip of your nose,” he said.  “Don’t let him.”

Leni glanced up at him, she tried not to rub her nose. “Would you–” Leni sighed. “Um… come with me. Maybe Nita needs a check up or something?”

D raised his eyebrow.  “If it’s a legit hospital, they’re not going to harvest your organs when you’re not looking.  Afraid of getting lost on the upper levels?”

“They harvest organs?” Leni shook her head. “No. It’s stupid it’s just–” She could break a Gammorean’s skull but she couldn’t ask for help. “I just don’t want to go by myself.”

“Sure.”  D glanced at the chrono on his wrist.  “I don’t have another appointment for a few hours, so we can get it out of the way.”

“Thanks,” Leni shot him a smile and stood up with a wince. She handed the stuffed gizka back to Nita. “You too, adi’ka.”

Nita nodded and beamed.

“Could probably get her scanned quick, there,” D murmured.  “Make sure she doesn’t have the Chandrilan flesh eating bacteria, at least.”

“Always a good thing to catch early. Or the Denabian shrinking flu. For all we know she could have been six meters.”

“You shrinking, kiddo?” he asked.

Nita looked like she didn’t understand.

Leni held her side. “It won’t take long, right?”

“It shouldn’t.  The people who tend to need the ER can’t tend to afford where we’re going.”  He frowned at Nita.  “Where’d you put your shoes?”

“Did you check the fridger?” Leni put her palm on Nita’s head.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but turned around and opened the fridger, instead.  “Your feet are going to be cold, little girl.  And ketchupy.”

“At least it wasn’t your underwear,” Leni arched an eyebrow and stared at Nita who looked up at her innocently. That had been very, very cold.

“Huh, guess I should put a lock on the underwear drawer, now, too.”

“Unless you’ve been teaching her how to unlock things…” Leni smirked.

D shook his head.  “Give it a couple more years, first.”

Leni nodded slowly. D had been saying things like that for a bit now. At ease with the fact that Nita was around. “Did you find out about the daycare situation yet? A proprietor at the art gallery recommended one, but I don’t think they’d appreciate the underwear hiding and her affinity for putting green fingerpaint on the wall at the Montessori Upper Level School.”

He cleared his throat.  “I kind of like taking her with me to jobs.  She’s a good icebreaker.”  He glanced up at Leni.  “Does that make me a latchkey guardian?”

“Depends on if you’re using her to pick up chicks.” Leni smiled at him, trying to ignore how ridiculous she probably looked with gauze up her nose. “I like her coming over too– only work three shifts. Besides,” Leni gave Nita a look. “She’s learning enough on her own. Like how to climb a cabinet and get a paint stain in places that she shouldn’t even be able to reach.”

D winced.  “What did she ruin?”

“The top of a ridiculously expensive couch,” Leni laughed and grunted, grabbing her side. “It’s fine. Adds charm.”

“You’re lucky Leni’s delirious with pain,” he told her.

Nita just laughed.

“I need more practice…” Leni frowned. She hoped she wasn’t getting too old. “Didn’t have much fighting on Alderaan.” Though she had gotten to ride a thranta.

“Alderaanians are big on their fancy expensive wine, right?”  He dangled the shoes in front of Nita and she snatched them from him.  “It’d be interesting to watch them face off after some wine tasting.”

Leni smirked and put her hand under her nose. “They like to throw really bad insults, but once in a while there’s a fight. It’s always quickly handled. I think I like it better on Courscant.”

“Too bad,” D said.  “Other foot.”

Nita scrunched up her face as she moved her right shoe from her left foot to the right one.  “Doing it.”

“They’d probably trip over their formal wear before anything good started.”

He smirked.  “That’s what would make it entertaining.  All the glove slapping and prissy crap.”

“They had glove slapping. Went to ritualised duels,” Leni shook her head. “They take paces and then fence. It’s ridiculous.”

“I’m sure they take it very seriously,” he snorted.

Stupid, idiot phoqing jerk-ass brothers.

Mekel had been very angry about that comment.  He’d know about stuff like that, wouldn’t he?  Certainly better than D would, anyway.

What Benny was doing with Ollie wasn’t wrong.  She liked it and D was an asshole.  So there.

It didn’t matter that she had little to no clue just what she was doing exactly.

She’d figure it out, because she wanted to.  Unfortunately, Ollie wasn’t around and figuring things out definitely required a hands-on approach.

Benny shifted and pulled her knees to her chest.  That lewd thought or two or three that trickled from her brain to Ollie’s was purely accidental.  Just because Ollie was now stuck with a suggestion, a particular image, while he tried to do some chores with Leni’s brothers and Benny was far away snickering in front of some blond kid didn’t mean she did anything intentionally.  Sometimes, thoughts just happened.

“Vocoy?” the blond said before he started to spout a bunch of Mandalorian words at her. He didn’t seem angry, but he kept nodding to himself like he was half talking to Benny, half talking to himself. She recognized Ollie’s name smashed in there a few times at least.

Benny frowned.  Basic.  Fracking speak it.  Her eyes rolled up in her head as she tried to remember some general Mandie introduction or phrase.  Ollie knew the language, but it probably wouldn’t be polite to pick through his brain.  Besides, if he had caught on to her wandering thoughts earlier, she certainly didn’t want to distract him with a request for a Mandalorian lesson.

“Shebs?”  She was pretty sure that had to mean something.  If not in Mandalorian, then some other language.

The blond pulled his head back. “Rodo fock tran de troch–” He shook his head. “Ada– Basic.” He grinned and pulled out his hand. “I am Rou. Ollie’s brother.”

You have a brother, now?  You never told me.  “Benny.  I’m Ollie’s…”  What, exactly?  It seemed clearer in her head than in words.  She shrugged.  “I’m Ollie’s.”  She held her hand out in an imitation of Rou’s.

Rou shook it hard and grinned. “Are you staying on Dxun? Are you going home? Soon? If you are staying you should go on a hunt with us.”

Benny blinked.  Maybe he didn’t realize that her hand was supposed to stay attached to her arm.  “I’ll stay for a while, I guess.  If I go hunting, I won’t have to gut anything, will I?”

Rou scrunched up his face and was silent for a long moment. His face relaxed and he nodded. “Yeah, you can gut if you want. I have knife to borrow.”

She shook her head.  “That’s okay, I don’t need to gut anything.”  Benny retrieved her hand from his.

“Ada–” Rou nodded. “What woman are you?”

“I’m Benny.”

He shook his head. “Whi-ch. Woman. Number one?” Rou frowned. “Or. Makeup wearing troch?”

He officially lost her.  “There’s another troch?”

“Five?” Rou scratched his head. He said something in Mandalorian. “Never mind. Do you fight?”

Benny stared at him for a long moment.  Nobody had started any rumors, had they?  “I won’t hurt you.  Promise.”

Rou scrunched up his face again. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” Benny said.  What other words didn’t this kid know?  She wondered if anyone would get mad if she taught him a few colorful phrases to say to some of the old Mandie chicks.

Rou shrugged and grabbed her arm pointing to a circle of Mandalorians fighting. “Battle circle?”

“No thanks.”  She shook her head.  “I can’t fight like that.”

Rou scratched his head again. “Boma ride?”

“Huh?”

Maybe Rou would be alright if she could understand what he was trying to get at.  Wasn’t everyone in the galaxy supposed to be fluent in Basic?  Her mistake for taking Rodese at school on a whim, probably.  When was she ever going to need to know Rodese?

Rou made a low noise and scrunched up his face again. “Riding boma… out in jungle. Like drexl with no wings.”

“You ride them?”  Benny tilted her head to one side.  “I thought you ate them.”

“Both!” Rou grinned. His face got serious for a moment. “Neither with cannock. Tastes like trash. We look for Corr’s boots in Cannock.”

She glanced down at her own boots.  A junky pair.  “Okay.”

Rou grinned. “Lek.” He pronounced it carefully and waved his hand like she should repeat him.

“Lek?”  She furrowed her brows for a second, got an idea, then pointed to her head-tails.  “Lekku.  Well, kind of.”

“No. Okay is Lek.”

No it wasn’t.  Okay was okay.  Rou was too serious for her games.  Benny offered him a smile.  “Okay.”

Rou just shook his head and started to drag her by the arm towards the jungle.

She had half a mind to tell him she could walk just fine, thank you.  Too bad her gut reaction was just to continue to let Rou drag her into the jungle.  He was Ollie’s brother, after all.  There was no logical reason that she could come up with for Rou murdering her out there once they were out of witness range.

The grass wore away into a stomped down dirt trail.  Not that Benny had much clue where they were, but trails generally led somewhere, so she doubted that if she got lost that she’d remain lost for very long.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Boma riding. We find boma.” Rou scrunched up his face again and scratched his head and said something in Mandalorian. He turned towards Benny. “Easier with Ori.” He said, as if he was clarifying the jumble of gibberish that came out of his mouth earlier.

“Sorry.”  Like she’d ever tracked down a boma before.  Benny decided from now on she’d remember every Mandalorian thing that left his mouth.  She’d make Ollie translate it later.  “Should I be quiet or something?”

“Lek,” Rou said but didn’t sound too sure. After a moment he threw them both on the ground to crouch down deep in the grass. “We wait.”

Benny nodded.  There was something digging into her side.  A rock.  That was probably going to leave a bruise.  She picked it up and set it in front of her.

There was a rustling noise in the brushes in front of them and Rou grinned again.  He sank lower and shoved Benny down with him.   She tried her best to shrink away from him, but with her chin brushing up against the grass already, there wasn’t a lot of room to wiggle.

It was too quiet.  If Rou was going to try anything weird, she’d give him a wedgie.  And scream.  Loud.

Rou screamed for her.  The sounds in the bushes stopped. Benny just blinked.

She decided that it was a good idea not to move and to just watch as a thick armed man came out of the bushes and cracked Rou in the forehead.  Like it happened all the time.  He looked familiar, but that could be because all the Mandies seemed to be blond.  Brak or something.  Brec.  Sometimes that bond was really handy.

A girl, Benny’s age maybe, was on his heels.  What the frack was wrong with her face?  It looked like something had tried to eat it.  It probably wouldn’t be polite to ask.  She fell into a long conversation with Rou, none of which Benny could understand.  The tone of the girl’s voice and the frown she wore was enough to get the gist of things, though.

Finally, she turned and offered Benny a smile. “Hi.”

Brec stepped behind her and scoffed at Rou. “Sorry no one warned you about Rou, Benny.”

“Huh?”  Benny blinked.  “I think he wants to ride a boma.”

Brec smacked Rou upside the head with the back of his hand. “Dodda.” He shook his head. “He’s just trying to show off. He doesn’t know how to beast ride.” Brec glanced at her. “If you want to ride a boma, Ori or Corr can show you the best.”

Benny shrugged.  “It’s not a big deal.”

Brec nodded and said something in Mandalorian to Rou who looked shocked. “Are you looking for Ollie? Or did you want a tour of the camp? I haven’t seen you doing much. You’re free to explore as long as you don’t piss Mandalore or my Mother off, you should be fine.”

The girl giggled into her hand. “Definitely avoid Maii.”

“Is your mom the one with…”  Saying huge knockers was probably out.  “I don’t know if I know who she is.”  She probably did, but it would be better to make sure.

Brec held up his hand to about his shoulder height. “This tall. Blonde. Angry. With either our Da’an–”

“Gral!” Rou corrected him.

Brec rolled his eyes. “And or with three little boys and a little girl. She has the most children in the camp. You’ll feel her coming.” Brec scratched at his beard. “Maybe Kaya should stay with you. Show you around and keep you away from Maii.” He pulled Rou’s collar. “I have to take my nephew to lessons, but come by the big bunker on the far side of the hill if you need anything. Terree is my wife. She can probably cook some troch food if you don’t want rahk.”

Kaya smiled shyly again. The scars on her face crisscrossed her nose.

“Okay.”  Benny glanced over at the other girl.  “You can speak Basic, right?”

Kaya nodded. “I’m not the best at all the words, but I’m better than Rou.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “Our sister Vala is the best, because she knows how to write in Basic, too.”

Brec smiled at them and ruffled Kaya’s hair before he dragged Rou off, who shouted something in Mandalorian at Benny with a grin.

“That’s good,” Benny said.  “I can’t speak Mandalorian very well.”   At all, really.  “He didn’t just call me an idiot or something, did he?”

Kaya shook her head. “He said he thinks you’re weird, but pretty cool.”

Benny frowned.  “Well, he’s really weird.”  She should have given him a wedgie.

Kaya nodded. “He just tries too hard and doesn’t sit still.”

“Oh.”  Benny sat up.  She refused to worry about what was more destructive, trying too hard or not trying at all.  “I bet you guys do more around here than kill things or hope for boma to show up?”

“What did you want to do?”

“Don’t know,” Benny said.  It’s not like Dxun was filled with restaurants and vid shows and cantinas and clubs and girls that wanted to paint themselves up like whores and giggle about stupid things while she pretended not to listen.  “This isn’t Coruscant.  I just don’t want to get lost and eaten by cannocks, I guess.”

Kaya gave her a shy smile. “That’s always a good goal.” She glanced in the direction that Rou and Brec had gone. “Did you want to go climb one of the roofs and watch Rou get beaten up? He’s doing hand to hand training today.”

“Really?”  Benny smiled back.  “Which roof has the best view?  If you want, I mean.  Would he get mad if we watched?  I’ll try not to laugh.”

“The one next to the communications station has a good view. Just tell him he did very well if he sees us. He’s good natured and will believe it.”

“Okay.”  Benny peered towards where Brec and Rou had disappeared.  “Should we hurry?  Are we going to miss anything?”

Kaya smiled at her. “Just stay close and follow me, I’ll take you through the back.”

Benny nodded.  “I can do that.”