Private basilisks call

[Laphisto]

Laphisto worked methodically, his focus narrowed to the gleaming form of the Basilisk war droid before him. The engineering bay hummed with a low, comforting rhythm plasma welders crackled in the distance, repulsorlifts thrummed faintly overhead, and somewhere nearby, coolant pumps whispered through the metal arteries of the ship. It was, to him, a kind of music mechanical and alive.

Vraen stood in the center of it all, her frame half-dismantled, armor plates stripped and replaced piece by piece. Laphisto knelt beside her, hydrospanner in one hand and wrench in the other, carefully fitting a new section of polished Kov'dra plating along her flank. The alloy shimmered faintly under the lights, each plate catching the glow with a tempered sheen. He had only just started tightening the final bolts when a deep, involuntary rumble rose from his throat a low, contented sound, like a beast pleased with its work.
But Vraen had other ideas.

With a whir of servos and a curious tilt of her armored head, the Basilisk leaned down to watch him work. The movement jostled the frame just enough to send his wrench slipping and the newly positioned plate clattering to the deck. Sparks of frustration danced briefly in his golden eyes as he froze mid-motion, exhaling through his nose. "Vraen," he said slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in tired amusement, "for the love of the gods if you don't stop moving, I swear I'll put you in time-out."

Vraen froze at the tone, her photoreceptors dimming slightly in what could only be interpreted as sheepish guilt. A soft whine came from deep within her chassis half-modulated sound, half mechanical mimicry of a scolded hound. Then, with a subtle mechanical shuffle, she straightened herself and went perfectly still, though her sensor arrays twitched with impatient energy. Laphisto couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, retrieving the fallen wrench and tightening the last bolt with a firm click.


Aknoby Iandre Athlea

 

[Aknoby]

The young chiss enters smiling and looks at the great basilisk, giving her one of her large legs a light, affectionate pat.

"Hi, girl."

He stops looking at Laphisto o and senses Iandre Athlea dre nearby.

"Why did you call us here today?"

He tilts his head slightly, trying to see what the dragon-man is doing.

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre stepped into the engineering bay quietly, the soft sound of her boots nearly lost beneath the hum of the ship. The air smelled faintly of metal and coolant, familiar and grounding. Her gaze swept the room until it found Laphisto—focused as ever—and then the gleaming form of Vraen, the ancient Basilisk whose frame gleamed like a living relic under the lights.

A faint smile curved her lips at Aknoby's greeting to the droid. "Careful," she said gently, amusement threading her voice. "She'll start expecting praise every time someone walks in."

Vraen gave a mechanical whirr, as if to confirm the accusation.

Iandre's eyes softened, the faintest trace of warmth behind her calm expression as she looked between the two of them. "It seems she's enjoying the attention more than her repairs," she added, a quiet hint of humor before her tone turned inquisitive.

Her gaze settled on Laphisto—patient, steady, but questioning. "You called for us?" she asked, stepping closer to where he worked. "Is it about Vraen, or something else entirely?"

There was no tension in her stance, only curiosity—trusting him enough to know that if he had summoned them, it was for a reason worth hearing.

Laphisto Aknoby

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto looked up from his workbench at the sound of approaching footsteps, a faint smile curling across his features as he spotted Aknoby and Iandre Athlea entering the bay. He gave a small, beckoning wave with the hydrospanner still in hand, a quiet chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Ah good timing, both of you," he said, voice carrying easily over the low thrum of machinery. "Figured I could use a few extra hands… and maybe a bit of luck."

He gestured with the spanner toward the far end of the bay, where a cluster of ancient Basilisk war droids stood idly in various states of repair. The hulking machines shifted restlessly, their photoreceptors flickering with animalistic awareness some pacing, some simply watching him with eerie patience.
"Got a lot of work ahead of me," he went on, tone dry but amused. "These old machines are Vraen's packmates been with her since the Mandalorian Wars. Trouble is, they've started acting up. Won't let anyone else touch them for the upgrades. The others tried, and nearly lost a few fingers for the effort." He gave a quiet, resigned chuckle. "They're unbonded, but for whatever reason, they only respond to me. Must see me as the pack alpha or something. I'm not sure how Basilisk logic works after seven thousand years without a memory wipe but whatever it is, it's got plenty of personality."

Vraen shifted again beside him, lowering her head to peer at the newcomers, optics bright with what could only be described as curiosity. The movement jostled Laphisto's grip, making the wrench slip and clang against her armor. He let out a quiet sigh through his nose, shaking his head.

Laphisto turned back to Vraen, tightening another bolt on her gleaming new Kov'dra plate. The metal caught the light with a soft, molten sheen. But before he could fasten the next, the droid shifted leaning down curiously toward Iandre and Aknoby, her heavy frame groaning as she tried to get a better look. The motion knocked the spanner out of his hand and sent it clattering across the deck.

Laphisto froze, exhaled slowly through his nose, and pinched the bridge of it with one clawed hand. "Vraen," he said in a tone that managed to sound both patient and warning. "If you move one more inch, I'm welding your feet to the floor." The Basilisk gave a low, sheepish whine, optics flickering in a guilty pulse before she went still again.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, retrieving the spanner and re-seating the plate. Then, glancing back at the others, he added with a faint grin, "Anyway, figured maybe one or both of you might have some luck helping me get through these upgrades. If nothing else, you can help me pull and bolt the new plating before she decides to test my patience again."

Vraen's optics brightened again softly, almost playfully and Laphisto gave her a sidelong look. "Don't even think about it," he said under his breath, tightening the final bolt with a sharp click.

 

[Aknoby]

Aknoby stood quietly with a small smile, listening to Laphisto and watching what was happening. He already liked Basilisk, so he pulled out a floating platform and stood at the height of Basilisk's head.

"Hey, be a good girl, okay?"

He said with a smile, stroking her metallic head. The other basilisks in the pack turned curiously toward the young Chiss. One of them even moved slowly and awkwardly due to lack of maintenance, rejecting the basilisk's advances and making some noises while talking to Vraen. Aknoby remained silent, waiting for the basilisks to finish talking, then the Basilisk looked at the young man who had approached him.

"And you are?"

A series of buzzing and other sounds came from the Basilisk.

"So, translating your name would be Stomper?"

He gave a big smile.

"I like your name. How about we update your shell and your weapons so you can trample new enemies, partner?"

Stomper made noises of joy and stood still, well-behaved, unlike Vraen, patiently waiting for the young man to get the tools and start maintenance.

Laphisto Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre stepped closer, grey eyes sweeping over the hulking Basilisks and the gleaming form of Vraen. She gave a measured nod toward Laphisto.

"I can see why they respond only to you," she said softly, a faint trace of dry amusement in her tone. "It takes…patience, and perhaps a steady hand, to earn that kind of loyalty."

Her gaze lingered on the massive droids, their armored plating gleaming and optics flickering faintly. The thought of touching one made her uneasy—she had never liked droids, and these ancient war machines only reinforced that discomfort—but curiosity nudged her forward. She inhaled slowly, letting the Force steady her nerves.

"…I'll assist where I can," she added, voice calm but deliberate. "But I won't make promises about stepping too close just yet. Let's hope they understand the difference between…help and threat."</color>

After a pause, she studied one of the slightly smaller Basilisks—still massive, but less imposing than Vraen. Its optics glimmered with cautious curiosity. Slowly, she extended a hand, letting the Force guide the gesture without letting herself get too close. The droid remained still, as if considering her.

A small smile curved her lips. "Alright," she murmured, "you can be…Ironjaw." She gave a tentative tap on its plating with her knuckles, careful not to startle it. "We'll see if you live up to the name."

Her eyes flicked back to Laphisto and Aknoby, calm but tinged with the faintest pride. It was a small step out of her comfort zone—but a step nonetheless.

Aknoby Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto gave a low chuckle, the sound rumbling up from his chest as he looked between Aknoby and Iandre Athlea There was a certain fondness in his expression half pride, half amusement as he watched the two of them handle the towering war machines with surprising ease. He gave a small nod of approval before turning back to his own work.

"Good," he murmured, tightening his grip on the hydrospanner as he returned his focus to Vraen's flank. The tool whined softly as he fastened another bolt into the gleaming Kov'dra plating. A short huff escaped him a sound halfway between concentration and quiet satisfaction as he leaned into the motion.

Every so often he lifted his gaze, casting a brief glance toward Aknoby and Iandre. Vraen's optics followed his movements, though she stayed obediently still this time, watching her "packmates" curiously as they bonded with their chosen droids. The sight drew a faint smile from Laphisto's face, softening the otherwise stern lines of his expression.

"Seems you're both making fast friends," he said, his voice carrying a note of teasing pride. He gave Vraen's armor a final firm twist of the wrench before setting the tool aside. "Who knows by the end of today, you might go home with a new loyal companion."

He smirked slightly as one of the nearby Basilisks let out a low mechanical growl, earning a sideways glance from him. "Assuming," he added dryly, "they don't decide to start fighting over who gets which one first."

 

[Aknoby]

He chuckles softly as he updates Stomper's shell.

'You mean there's a chance more than one basilisk might want to come with me?'

He comments in an amused tone and strokes the plate on Stomper's head.

'Good boy, Stomper!'

Humming, he begins to replace some of the more worn wires on the large basilisk.

Laphisto Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre allowed herself a small, quiet smile at Laphisto's chuckle, the mixture of pride and amusement in his tone resonating with her own sense of satisfaction.

"It's impressive," she said softly, crouching beside Stomper to examine a section of the worn plating. "They have a patience for learning—or maybe they just know who to trust. Either way, it makes our job easier."

Her gaze flicked briefly to Vraen as the large Basilisk watched the others, optics bright and curious. "And she's clearly keeping a careful eye," she added with a hint of amusement, "making sure no one gets too reckless with her packmates."

Iandre carefully tested the bolt's tightness on Stomper's shell, noting the subtle vibrations of the repair. "Looks like Stomper approves of your attention," she said, nodding toward Aknoby and the way he interacted with his chosen companion. "You're doing him a favor, and he knows it."

She straightened slightly, looking back to Laphisto with a calm, approving tone. "You've got a good system here—friendly hands, careful instructions, and plenty of patience. It's rare to see this many machines bond so easily with the right people. I don't usually like droids, but I trust your guidance here."

Glancing down at Stomper again, Iandre let a soft chuckle escape her. "And yes…I think a few more of these loyal ones might decide we're worth following. I'd be willing to welcome the challenge."

She crouched beside Ironjaw, fingers tracing the worn edges of the plating as she inspected the old war droid's shell. The subtle hum of hydraulics vibrated beneath her touch.

"You've got a disciplined pack here," she said softly, eyes flicking up toward Laphisto with a quiet smile. "It's impressive how much personality they retain, even after all these years."

Ironjaw shifted slightly, optics brightening as if aware of her attention. Iandre offered a slight nod of approval. "Don't worry," she murmured, "I'm not here to mess with your flow. Just a few adjustments, and you'll be in fine form again."

Her hands worked deliberately, tightening bolts and replacing worn wires. "And if any of you decide to follow me home," she added with a faint grin toward the Basilisks, "I'll happily welcome you. Though Ironjaw might get jealous."

Finally, she stepped back to examine her work, the large droid standing proudly before her. "Good as new," she said quietly, meeting Laphisto's approving gaze. "Thank you for letting me help. It's…nice, seeing them respond this way."

Iandre then turned her attention fully to Stomper and Aknoby, observing the Basilisk's careful, obedient posture under the Chiss's gentle guidance. A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"You've got a steady hand," she said softly, glancing at Aknoby. "And patience. That seems to go a long way with these machines… especially when they're as old and proud as Stomper here. Machines like these… they notice intent and respect. Even when they seem cold, they feel when someone is steady and reliable."

Stepping back, she gave a small nod toward Aknoby. "Good work. Stomper clearly approves, and that's what matters."</color>

Laphisto Aknoby

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto leaned back slightly, resting his tools on the workbench beside him as he watched the scene unfold. Aknoby and Iandre worked in quiet harmony, their movements patient and deliberate the kind of rhythm only earned through trust. For a long moment, he simply stood there, arms crossed loosely over his chest, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He was content, to say the least. These were the moments he rarely got to savor simple, quiet, unhurried. No blaster fire. No orders being shouted over comms. Just the soft hum of the engineering bay and the steady pulse of life in the old ship around them. His apprentices, working side by side, each finding their own way to connect not just with the machines, but with each other. It was rare, and it was good.

"I suppose," he began, his tone low and thoughtful, eyes following the Basilisks as they moved with quiet awareness, "four thousand years sealed away together on a ship like this… it changes them. Gives them time to think to grow. They've had nothing but each other for company, and that kind of isolation…" He trailed off for a moment, glancing toward Vraen as she lowered her head to watch the others. "It forges strong bonds. Maybe even stronger personalities."

He chuckled softly, the sound carrying a note of fondness rather than amusement. "Can't say I blame them for being a little protective. If I'd spent millennia cooped up with the same pack, I'd probably bite at anyone trying to touch me too." His gaze softened as he looked back to his apprentices one calm and deliberate, the other earnest and bright-eyed. "Still," he murmured, more to himself than to them, "it's good to see this kind of peace. These moments don't last long, not with everything coming." He picked his tools back up, turning back toward Vraen with a faint hum, a quiet satisfaction in his voice as he spoke again. "Let's make the most of it while we can."

Aknoby Iandre Athlea

 

[Aknoby]

The young Chiss looked at Laphisto.

'Well then, instead of thinking about it, let's enjoy ourselves and when the problem comes, we'll see how to solve it, like we did before.'

He said with a smile and turned to Stomper again, removing the plates from his head.

'Hey, stay still, we have to change the plates on your head so you'll be better protected!'

The basilisk makes some indignant noises but ends up accepting.

'I don't want anyone blowing your head off... See, you made me talk like Laphisto!'

She says indignantly, like a young man who realises he is becoming like his father.

Laphisto Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre stood beside Ironjaw, her hand resting lightly on his broad, worn plating. The subtle hum of hydraulics vibrated beneath her fingers, a reminder of the life—or something like it—that the old war droid carried.

"You certainly have a talent for picking…unusual companions," she said, glancing up at Laphisto with a small, teasing smile. "Four thousand years sealed away, and you've still managed to make even machines…interesting."

Her gray eyes scanned Ironjaw's frame, noting the careful craftsmanship, the loyalty almost palpable in the droid's posture. "I've seen droids before," she admitted quietly, voice low, reflective. "Clone Wars. Orders followed without question, lives lost because of programmed obedience. I've never liked them…never trusted them. And yet…this one?" She pressed a finger lightly to his armor. "There's something in him. A spark. A patience, a loyalty…something I can respect."

Her gaze flicked back to Laphisto, a teasing edge in her tone. "So, tell me…what do you foresee? Another storm coming? I feel it already. War never truly ends. And I suppose Ironjaw and his friends will be first to meet it head-on."

She straightened fully, her hand lingering on Ironjaw's shell, protective yet deliberate. "I'll work with them. I'll earn their trust…and maybe they'll earn mine. But don't think I'm going to like them more than I have to."

A quiet, almost reluctant smile tugged at her lips as she regarded her droid. "Still…I admit it. There's something about him that draws me in, whether I want it to or not."

Laphisto Aknoby