Private A Familiar Shape in the Crowd

[Meri Vale]

The docking concourse was louder than Meri remembered, though not necessarily in the sense of literal noise. Starports were inherently chaotic places, defined by the mechanical whine of engines, the piercing drone of cargo loaders, and the constant, rhythmic murmur of travelers passing through on their way to distant systems. Instead, the sensation of volume came from the space itself, which seemed curiously smaller and more confined than it had during her last visit.

She stood near one of the massive transparisteel panels that overlooked the landing bays, watching the silhouettes of ships as they rose and fell through the precision-controlled traffic lanes of the atmosphere. Her satchel hung heavily from one shoulder, weighed down by a collection of books, datapads, and handwritten notes that had grown significantly over the past several months.

There was a noticeable change in the way she carried herself as well. Over the past year, she had grown just enough for the hem of her jacket to lift away from the tops of her boots, and her posture had shifted alongside her height. She no longer stood folded in on herself, looking like someone who expected the world to collapse without warning; while she knew the world still could crumble at any moment, she no longer moved as if she assumed it was an inevitability.

Scanning the crowd with a quiet, practiced focus, Meri found it easy to locate Maur. Even in a starport overflowing with weary travelers and burly cargo haulers, a seven-foot Togorian stood out with the unmistakable clarity of a lighthouse among drifting ships. For a long moment, Meri simply watched from across the concourse, reflecting on how a single year could feel so much longer when travel stacked new places atop old memories until the edges began to blur.

Seeing Maur's familiar striped silhouette and quiet presence snapped everything back into sharp focus. She admired the way the Togorian moved—with the grace of someone who had long ago learned how to take up space without feeling the need to apologize for it.

Meri began to walk forward, her steps steady as she weaved through the throng of travelers without her old hesitation. When she reached a comfortable distance, she came to a halt and looked up, realizing that it was still a very long way up to meet Maur's gaze. A small, genuine smile touched her lips, and her hands rose instinctively to begin the conversation.

Hello, Maur.

The signs were practiced now, lacking the jagged uncertainty of their early days; they were still careful, but far smoother than the first time they had attempted to communicate in the silence. She studied Maur's face for a moment, her eyes warm with the spark of recognition, before continuing.

It has been about a year since we last spoke.

Her gaze flicked briefly over Maur's gear, noting the familiar weight of her weapons and the way her clothes had been softened by the grit of travel.

You look well, she signed, pausing for a beat as a hint of humor sparked in her expression. And you are, as always, still very tall.

She lowered her hands but remained visibly relaxed, appearing entirely at ease in the giantess's shadow. Seeing Maur again didn't feel like the awkwardness of meeting a stranger; it felt like rediscovering a landmark she had once used to navigate the galaxy, only to find it was still exactly where she had left it.

Maur

 

[Maur]

The message had come almost out of the blue. Work around Togoria had picked up and Maur hadn’t had the time to check in on Meri since their first and last meeting. And that made Maur feel incredibly guilty, given that Meri was a kit without people.

Maur checked her datapad again, the screen scratched a bit but still usable, as she pushed through the crowd. The concourse had changed little over the course of the year since she’d first met Meri and helped her get to Theed. Perhaps the biggest change had been the spiced meat vendor leaving the hub entirely. Maur felt a pang of regret and guilt at the memory. She should have checked in on Meri sooner.

It took her a moment to recognize the young woman that approached her. Meri no longer withdrew into herself, made herself small, but stood with a new sureness. Her hands signed steadily, confidently. Maur smiled broadly and silently chuckled at the girl’s last comment.

All the better to see over people, she signed back. The humor faded into something softer as she looked at Meri. You’ve grown.

She paused, carefully looking Meri over. A year of no communication left her with so many questions. Find any interesting ruins?

Meri Vale

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri watched Maur's hands carefully, her eyes following each motion before the meaning settled in. She understood it, but there was still a small pause while she translated the shapes into words in her head. When she answered, her own signing was a little slower, but much steadier than it had been a year ago.

"A few," she signed.

"Mostly on Naboo."

She traced a curved shape in the air with her fingers as she described the first.

"There is an old observatory outside Theed. The dome collapsed a long time ago, but the arches are still standing. Whoever built it understood load distribution very well."

Her hands paused briefly while she thought about the next one.

"Another one is near the lake country. It is mostly foundations now. The drainage channels were designed beautifully, but they flood constantly. I think the builders cared more about symmetry than practicality."

She hesitated a moment before continuing.

"I left Naboo twice."

There was a small spark of pride in the way she signed it.

"Korriban was one. The ruins there feel… heavier. The structures are tall and narrow, like they were built to make people feel small when they walked inside."

Her brow creased slightly as she remembered it.

"And Daxam IV."

This time, her hands moved with a little more energy.

"There was a research outpost built into a cliff. Not ancient, but interesting. The anchors in the rock were still intact after the landslide, so you could see how the whole structure was meant to distribute weight across the face of the cliff."

She lowered her hands for a moment, then looked back up at Maur with a small, genuine smile.

"It made more sense once I could see it from underneath."

Her fingers lifted again, a little uncertain for a second before continuing.

"What about you? Have you been traveling?"

Maur

 

[Maur]

Maur watched more than Meri's hands as she signed, her expression and body language taken into account as well. The signs themselves were made more confidently than before, which suggested Meri had found time to practice. That alone warmed Maur's heart. Meri talked about two ruins on Naboo and two on other planets. Korriban gave her pause. That was a Sith holy world, and beyond the Blackwall. The furrow in her brow, the slower signs. Maur didn't like it.

The ruins on Daxam IV brought back more of Meri's enthusiasm, a smile brightening her face. The knot in Maur's chest that Korriban caused eased at that.

Always, Maur signed with a smile. I do mercenary work so I go where the jobs take me. Most recently found a lot of work with the Mandalorian Empire. Got in a few fights but nothing I can't handle.

She looked back at Meri, who had grown up quite a bit in the year that had separated them.

How are your studies going? Make any friends?



Meri Vale

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri followed Maur's hands with an intensity that bordered on the academic, her eyes tracking the fluid geometry of the signs. There was still that tell-tale pause as she translated the motion into meaning, her mind working like an ancient cipher disk, but the lag was shortening. When she finally moved to answer, her own signs were careful and deliberate, gaining a certain rhythmic grace that hadn't been there in their previous meetings.

"My studies are going well," she signed, and for a moment, the heavy mantle of her usual caution slipped away, replaced by a genuine, small brightness that lit up her expression from within.

She hesitated, her hands hovering in the air as she weighed the honesty of her next words, then added

"Most of them, at least."

A faint, almost embarrassed smile ghosted across her lips, and she looked away for a split second as if confessing a great academic sin.

"Engineering is…very hard," she continued, her hands slowing as if the very concept of the subject required more physical effort to convey. "There are too many variables that the textbooks don't account for. Things in the real world don't always behave with the elegant symmetry they are supposed to have on paper. The friction, the heat, the way metal fatigues, it is all so loud."

She glanced down at her boots briefly, watching the way the light caught the dust on the floor, before forcing her gaze back up to meet Maur's. There was a spark of quiet resilience in her smoky-gray eyes.

"But I am getting better at predicting the chaos. I am learning to see the patterns in the failures."

When Maur shifted the conversation to friends, the atmospheric hum Meri often felt seemed to ripple. She paused much longer this time, her fingers stilled against her satchel strap. A soft, undeniable flush touched her cheeks, creeping up from her collar.

"I think so," she signed, her movements becoming smaller, more tentative, as she navigated the unfamiliar terrain of social validation.

"There is Elian. He is…easy to talk to. The silence between us does not feel like a void I have to fill. It just feels like rest."

Her fingers fidgeted with one another, a nervous habit of a girl who spent too much time in archives and not enough in conversation, before she pushed through the shyness to continue.

"And Kiran."

She hesitated again, her confidence dipping as her natural instinct to remain unseen resurfaced. She thought of the way he had stepped in when the world felt too large and too loud.

"He helped me once when I did not know how to help myself. He is…remarkably kind. It is a strange thing to be seen and not feel the urge to hide immediately."

Her hands lowered, resting against her lap for a long moment as she gathered her thoughts for the final name. When they lifted again, her expression had shifted, growing more thoughtful.

"And Varin. I met him on Korriban."

She did not linger on it, simply stating it as part of her path.

She looked back up at Maur, that small, fragile smile returning like a light being turned on in a distant window.

"So…when I put the pieces together, I think that must mean I have friends. Actual friends."

The realization seemed to surprise her even as she signed it, a new foundation being laid down in the unmarked architecture of her life.

Maur

 

[Maur]

Watching Meri closely, what her hands said and what her body said, filled a gap Maur hadn't realized had formed. Her people were big on family and connection. While she'd been able to visit in between jobs, the brief connection she'd made with Meri had gone unfulfilled. And that was her fault.

I find the challenging things are often the most rewarding ones, she signed back. Meri listed off people she'd met, how she signed saying as much as the signs themselves.

Elian, effortless conversation and comfortable silence. The kind of person that became a best friend or more. Maur wondered if the way her fingers fidgeted indicated more vulnerable feelings.

Kiran, helpful, kind, and perceptive. Maur nodded when Meri said it wasn't easy being seen and resisting the impulse to hide. To be seen was to be vulnerable, and in this galaxy, being vulnerable meant getting incredibly hurt. Most beings never chanced it unless they were sure of their odds. And even then, people could surprise you.

Varin. Maur's face slowly shifted into concern as the pause before it lengthened. No comments about his character. Nothing about their interaction. Just a simple statement about where she had met him. She had to wonder what kind of boy could be met on Korriban. None of her imaginings painted a charitable picture.

But the shy brightness of Meri's face, the delicate smile as realization dawned on her, dispelled the storm clouds Korriban brought. Maur smiled broadly in response, the tips of her teeth showing.

Good! she signed. 'No being is an island,' or so said some poet I once read. We all need people to fall back on. I'm glad you found some. Perhaps one of these days, I'll introduce mine to you?

She made sure the last phrase came as a question, an invitation rather than a declaration. Meri still seemed shy and uncertain when it came to social things, if how she signed when discussing her friends was any indication. And Maur's family, while not large at six children—only four of whom were female and therefore in town for a visit, could be quite loud in many ways, overwhelming even. All of it good-natured, and everyone did their best to accommodate others but sometimes, things slipped.



Meri Vale

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri watched Maur as she signed, her attention fixed not just on the literal meaning but on the cadence of the movement itself. She followed its rhythm with the same clinical focus she gave to spoken language, noting the specific shape of each sign and the subtle variations in pacing that carried more weight than the words alone. When Maur finally smiled, the effect was immediate; Meri's own expression softened in return, the usual rigid edges of her restraint easing just enough to let something quiet and genuine through.

After a moment, her hands lifted to respond. They were slow at first, as if she were finding the right frequency, before settling into a more natural, fluid flow.

[[Challenging things make sense to me. If something is difficult, it means there is something to understand.]]

A brief, thoughtful pause followed as she processed the rest of Maur's words. When the topic shifted to the prospect of meeting Maur's family, Meri hesitated. It wasn't quite fear, but a distinct sense of uncertainty; the idea of so many people, characterized by noise and unpredictable movement, was something for which she had no existing structure. It was a concept that did not fit easily into the silent, orderly spaces she preferred, yet she did not withdraw. Instead, she tilted her head, her signs becoming more careful and deliberate.

[[I would like to meet them…maybe not all at once.]]

There was the faintest hint of humor in the motion, subtle but intentional, before her focus shifted toward something more grounded and easier to explain. Her hands began to move with more fluidity now, the familiar structure of her daily life giving her a clearer path to follow.

[[School has been…different this year. Better. I understand more now. Not just the lessons, but how to be there.]]

A quiet brightness settled into her expression, reflecting her progress more clearly than the signs could.

[[I still do not like crowded rooms, or when everyone talks at once, but I don't freeze as much.]]

She paused for a second, her hands hanging briefly in the air.

[[I can answer questions now without…stopping. Most of the time.]]

She glanced down at her own hands, as if verifying the accuracy of her statement, before meeting Maur's gaze again.

[[There are a few people I talk to. Not many. But it is…enough.]]

The final sign was slow and heavy with meaning. As her hands lowered, they stayed close to her chest rather than dropping away entirely. She remained steady and open, her gaze fixed on Maur in a way that was still careful, but no longer closed off. For Meri, that was a lot.

Maur

 

[Maur]

Maur inclined her head, one ear flicking in amusement, when Meri said she'd like to meet her family but not all at once. She caught the undertone of humor but also understood that it was a genuine statement. No, Maur had no intent to subject Meri to the chaos of her family all at once, particularly if it was during the time when the males rejoined civilization for a bit. Her father and brothers would really make things hectic and it was a lot, even for Maur.

She listened as Meri talked about her progress in school, the ways she'd learned to adapt to her new environment. The last word signed had emphasis. Maur could agree with the weight behind it. And in spite of the near-finality of it, Meri's body language stayed open. That alone said more than even sign language could say.

[[Perhaps one day, you could introduce me to your friends,]] she signed. [[But there's no pressure.]]

People moved around them, walking the concourse to where they needed to be. With the spiced meat vendor's absence, Maur felt herself wanting to find a place to sit and eat.

[[Would you like get a cup of tea or ... I don't actually know what you prefer to drink.]]



Meri Vale