Private Family Time

[Noah Corek Jr.]

Junior huffed and puffed as he avoided the sword swung at him, narrowly avoiding having his arm removed from his torso. Of course that would have been if the case if the swords weren't blunt training swords and this wasn't anything than a friendly training session between father and son.

"Good ad'ika, good. Use your speed and agility to your advantage." Noah encouraged his son as he himself stalked forward dressed in full beskar'gam, training sword gripped tightly in his hands. Junior rolled his eyes at his fathers words. "Dad, don't call me ad'ika. I'm almost sixteen, not six."

A small chuckle slipped from Noah's lips and he struck out with his blade again, Junior easily block it with his own dual short training swords. "You could be sixty and you'd still be my ad'ika...hell your ba'buir still calls me the same thing." Junior let out a snort and quickly swiped at his father who didn't bother blocking the sword, just letting it deflect naturally off of his armored shoulder.

As the father and son sparred they were almost completely unaware of their surroundings and completely absorbed in the task at hand.

Alexandra Feanor - Yasha Cadera

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Alexandra drew her hands into her lap, watching the two continue their sparring and her breath remaining slow and steady. Their son, the son who was a mix of so many things between the three of them... she could not begin to be proud of the young man who was growing before her and her loves. She watched her son swipe with a bit more reckless of a strike, smiling at the act and knowing it was not done out of anger.

She stood slowly, her hands crossing behind her and her form moving down from where she had been watching the two and as they continued she would come up behind Junior. She drew a finger to her lips, moving like a ghost, mirroring her son's movements and staying out of his eyesight.

It was only when Junior would go to strike a soft hand would come out, grabbing the blade from behind and smiling she she held it there, far stronger than anything Junior could muster and yet seeming as if she were grabbing something so delicate.

"Are you giving your father trouble?"

Yasha Cadera Noah Corek Jr.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“He’s Noah’s son, of course he gives trouble.” Yasha smirked with a shake of her long raven hair and sprawled out on the blanket in an ankle-length soft yellow maxi-dress. Olive skin saw the sun, minutes to hours of it, as a large brimmed hat kept her face from tanning too far from her beskar-encased pale flesh. The right arm displayed shales of green Vong-skin, peppering like freckles up her neck and right cheek. Beside her, two chubby babies pawed at soft toys, a foam blade and shield, and Yasha felt her vong hand down the back of Cahira’s dark hair, so much like her mother’s. Alexei popped a corner of the shield in his mouth, and Yasha chuckled, the child would learn in time.

“When I was sixteen, I was locked in the Netherworld for Mandalorian crimes against Dathomir. You can handle your father calling you ‘ad’ika’. Ad’ika.” Yasha grinned and the two vertical lines of tattoos down her chin and throat bobbed. “Oy, give them real blades, Ale’ika! Noa’ik makes him soft as a flowerbed!”

Noah Corek Alexandra Feanor

 

[Noah Corek]

Noah grinned as he watched Alex slowly slide in behind their son, grinning when he figured out her intent and did his best to keep Junior's attention so her plan would succeed. He did this by clashing with Junior over and over again, the sound of metal striking metal reverberating throughout the small clearing behind the family's palatial estate. And just as he was about the strike at his father again, this time with an overhead slice aimed to cleave him down the collarbone, Junior's blade stopped and he heard the voice of first his mother, Alexandra Feanor , and then his buir, Yasha Cadera . "If anyone is giving anyone trouble dad is giving me trouble, also not fair grabbing my blade mom."

Noah let out a small chuckle through his nose as he listened to his son and wives converse. "First off, there is never such a thing as a fair fight ad'ika, someone always has the edge in a fight no matter what, your goal is to try and make sure that ninety percent of the time that that person is you." Hearing his fathers words Junior gave a nod, clearly listen intently to his words, before his faced screwed up in thought, which Noah noticed almost immediately. "What's on your mind son?"

As soon as the words left his fathers lip Junior perked up and raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?" Noah chuckled and cocked his head toward Alex. "You get the same scrunched lookin' face thing as your mother when your thinking." He smiled and winked at Alex before looking back to Junior. "What would be your opinion about me...joining the army?"

Noah tapped his foot gently against the ground as he mulled over the words Junior had just said to him, giving Alex and Yasha side glances to get their input as well. "The army is a...respectable profession. It made me into the man I am, it also directly led me to interact with your mothers. Though you're much more intelligent than me so you've got more options..."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Anyone who seeks the pitch of battle, when their family is not under fire is a slug in a repeater. If Noah was nothing but an army grunt, I’d’ve been as interested as a hawk is in a sparrow. It was his mind, his research into history and the way he knew how to make such beautiful weapons. Although to many, the military is as Noah says, honourable… You joining the army… what army? What purpose is there to binding yourself to commands not your own, with obedience as a demand so strong you’d be marked a deserter for having a mind of your own? Did we raise you to forego your own judgement and give yourself to politics so mutable they make demons of foreign rulers depending on what resources said ruler has under their foot?” Yasha’s breath hissed out of her lungs, vong-flesh wobbled and shifted into iridescent green exoskeletal plate from the tips of her right fingers to the side of her cheek, and down to her right toes. “You are a Mandalorian, why not pick your own battles, and let the politicos and generals, who demand your blood with acceptable losses as their idol, bleed out other youths?”

Not often anymore did Yasha feel as imperial as the Infernal of her youth. Perhaps it echoed out of her with the youth barely attached to her skin, the age of her children. The yellow dress around her skin felt… naked without the weight of her armour.

“You, Noah Corek Junior, want to join someone else’s battles. Why not become a bounty hunter and choose them yourself? Wish to do good in this Galaxy, choose each campaign, want to be part of a unit, choose a cohort of House Corek vode. We did not raise you to be a blind follower, bound to some… journeyman commander raised in merciful but pitying aruetiise ways.” A crack of her neck, and the training sword from both Noahs’ hands come into her amber eyed focus. The biot hand turns into a bladed sword of improbable Vong-form matter. “Do you think they’ll consider you over them? Son of a bold military veteran, and a Jedi Master?”

She sliced the air, close enough to Junior’s face to slice a clump of his ginger hair. Alex was pondered at, the good humour vanished momentarily for a woman who lost as much as a person could, while being resurrected. “Do you think training with your father with a blunt blade is somewhat near the din and chaos of war? That I’d be proud of your sacrifice while you fight someone else’s campaign… you want to learn what it would be like, listen to more than your parents’ glorious battles.”

Inhumanoid. The word came to Yasha only after she recognized her over seven foot height and vongform flesh. Footfalls behind her quickened, familiar and small only by comparison. Girak Cadera slides both hands on his smaller brother’s shoulders, while Magnus Cadera unsheaths a matte black beskar blade formed in a dark, Panathan style so slowly all Yasha could do was cock her head to listen.

“Warriors don’t fight alone.” Magnus’ voice was too childish to be threatening. Still, the Vong-tainted head twitched, angled to take in the view of her murderer’s son wielding a blade. Noah Corek Alexandra Feanor