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Tyron had a smile on his face which is a rare sight for others to see. The only select few that perhaps saw this determined and locked in smile were Jonyna Si
& Valery Noble
when he was training under them. He paced along toward Alpha and Bravo to get ready to enjoy some time on Corellia. This will become a memory, perhaps the first of many to make as a Jedi and apart of both the Alliance and Jedi Order.
"It's nice to meet you Connell. Well guess it's time to see what we can do huh."
It was another day, another occasion for celebration, and in one area of Corellia were the stars all but focused. The sun was as it honed in on the surface of the beach and of the sea. Hearts and minds had been scarred, but the shoreline provided more time for the Force’s light to soar and shine.
Honed in on her target, at least one Jedi in the vicinity had made her choice to celebrate today. She wasn’t alone though. She was simply on her own as she zeroed in on a single point. Others mingled, many with friends and family, loved ones and lovers, but not her. She wasn’t against any of those notions. Yet, presently, her potion was the very sea. The waves beckoned her name and her feet.
So far, the completion of her mission proved true: Have fun. And then some. Music permeated between her ears, serving to take her away like her ship in space across lightyears. It was aptly named. Star’s Sanctum. Few could fathom the part her vessel played to keep her sane as much as safe. From its sleek metal to the tea kettle in its kitchen, it was her star’s sanctum.
The woman reflected on it for a moment as she sailed across the ocean, lost in thought, only hers was a different boat. It floated upon the water and, to be specific, it was a surfboard. She got it from a shop some time ago, courtesy of her friend. It certainly left an impression so she bought it.
Under the sunlight, wave after wave parted in defiance of darkness. There was an art and science to this, as the Jedi had come to learn when her mentioned friend had given her lessons, and ever since she had attempted to perfect it. Though, she could only hope she had learned her lesson after falling into the deep. When the sea was calling, however, there was no denying it. It was like fighting the wind. It was a pretty thing.
Synth strings pumped with drums and vocals as the Pantoran surfed with the visitors and locals. Waterproof earbuds provided her music. She stood barelegged in her wetsuit, shade of blue to match her board, and almost went overboard as she came too close to another surfer Mykel Dawson
and might have bumped into him if not for staying mobile and swaying away from the wave.
“Oops!”Vay exclaimed. “Sorry about that, mate!”
Xalmo sat down at the beach, looking over at the calm, serene, Corellian seas. He had ordered a Kelduch Rum (very naughty), and quite frankly, he was having the time of his life sipping the darn thing. He saw quite a lot in the distance, people gathering, doing all sorts of things, Volleyball, Grav-ball, eating, drinking, you name it, But Xalmo was just enjoying the sun. He was about to finish sipping his rum when he encountered someone, he least expected. His old Padawan.
""Ah! Greetings Fyun! how are you doing?"
They chatted for a while, making jokes, talking about their studies, before Fyun-Tal-Dhu
went to something more serious.
Davron took the cane in hand, planting it in the sand. In truth, it was barely even a cane—mostly just a rod of phrik—but it sufficed, and it helped if he got into any sort of other trouble. He moved his head as the lady he'd run into—Jonyna—kept talking, doing what he could to keep track of where she was. If only so that he wouldn't run into her a second time.
And he had to stifle another laugh.
"Ah, well..." She was clearly embarrassed, likely from running into a blind man. Maybe something more. He could try to capitalize on that, fire back with another question like 'well, what colour are your eyes?' or the like, but that seemed just a little too mean to do when she was already flustered. No, he'd just have to think back for a genuine answer. Getting used to Coruscant and its sunsets when he was a child; surrounded by the constant glow of lightsabers for so long, blue and green and the occasional unique colour to be found among them; the landscapes and sunsets of a multitude of planets.
"Hmm. I think...molten brass and copper. Like the body of a Maelibus from Iego, if you've seen one of them." He shrugged apologetically. "Not much, but there's a story behind it, like everybody has, I think. Jonyna? I'm Davron."
As the Ithor's Fury landed, Fyun-Tal-Dhu stepped out of the ship, parking it further up from the beach. He was sent to find his Old Master Xalmo
, who had trained him to Knighthood, as he was needed on a Reconnaissance Mission to the planet Fondor, where some Pirates had stolen Holocrons from the Jedi Temple, which were greatly needed. He soon saw Master Xalmo
, cheekily sipping on some Kelduch Rum.
""Greetings Master Xalmo."
""I've been good, yeah, but that's beside the point."
""Greetings Master Xalmo."
Indeed they made many jokes, before Fyun moved on.
"" In all seriousness, the council needs you to retrieve some stolen Holocrons. We have tracked them to Fondor, which as far as we know, is where they remain.... Please stop drinking the Rum., It's bad for your health.""
...And there they went, off on one of their other adventures on the Ithor's Fury. Fyun thought as he jumped to Hyperspace....
Squad Leader:Captain Nos Voros (Zeltron male) (Under protest. Still armed.)
Fire Team Alpha — “Alpha Splash Unit”
Lieutenant Karis Vonn (Human female, Corellian) – Wears mirrored aviators unironically. Claimed volleyball court command 3 minutes after landing. Has a strategic towel deployment zone mapped out.
Sergeant Lorne Vesik (Mirialan male) – Has a waterproof medkit. Is already reapplying sunscreen for the 4th time. Brought electrolyte packs. No one else remembered to hydrate.
Corporal Bex Jarn (Besalisk male) – Currently dual-wielding grilled nerfburgers. Plays volleyball like he’s breaching a bunker. Shirt’s been off since the shuttle landed.
Private Tash Renn (Human male, Chandrilan) – Folded his beach towel with military precision. Requested a rulebook for beach volleyball. Assigned to clipboard duty for morale tracking.
---
Fire Team Bravo — “Bravo Wavebreaker Team”
Sergeant Jil Torvan (Togruta female) – Organized beach volleyball brackets before breakfast. Refuses to wear flip-flops. Is the loudest cheerer and tactical trash-talker.
Corporal Rann Kyber (Nautolan male) – Built a sand sniper nest “for the bit.” Brings peacekeeper energy. Hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes but is winning at every lawn game.
Private Drax Molgar (Zabrak male) – Dug a sand pit large enough to hide a speeder. Keeps trying to spike the volleyball like it’s a thermal detonator. Shirt says: ‘Explosions are just loud hugs.’
Private Cass Deren (Duros male) – Wears floral swim trunks. Already challenged half the squad to beachball duels. Mixed everyone’s drinks without labeling them. Chaos incarnate.
"Another fourarms, huh? Dibs, you're with Alpha team." Bex rumbled, walking up to Tyron with a grin that was equal parts challenge and welcome. "Lucky for us—we’ve got room for exactly one more wall of muscle."
He reached out and tapped two fists against Tyron’s upper arms—firmly, but with intent. Assessing. Affirming.
"You ever spike a speeder engine into a canyon? Same motion. We’ll get you tuned up."
"Don’t worry, Besalisk reflexes are Force-adjacent," Vesik added with a smirk. "Just try not to block your own teammates."
Cass gave a slow nod toward Connel as he stepped into the sand beside Tyron. "Knight Vanagor, huh? We play by beach rules—titles optional, bad form encouraged."
"Connel it is," Jil confirmed, tossing the Jedi Knight a spare team band. "You look like the kind of guy who can take a few shots and keep smiling. Bravo needs that."
Drax elbowed Cass and nodded toward Tyron. "You see the way he holds the ball? That’s not a Jedi grip. That’s a full-turret stabilization stance."
"Natural talent," Bex grinned again, leaning a little closer to Tyron now. "You stick with me, rookie. Rubrus trains hard, plays loud, and doesn’t let the new guy go hungry. You’re in good hands."
Then, almost as an afterthought, Bex turned toward the dune where Nos still watched.
"Captain, we’re patching holes in morale faster than Alliance HR could process paperwork."
"We’ll even run a background check if anyone spikes wrong," Vesik chimed in with a shrug.
Rann, quiet as ever, simply nodded once toward Nos—an acknowledgment, a bridge.
And for a brief moment, the beach felt like it belonged to them.
The laughter stayed behind, carried on the sea breeze. Rubrus was loud—intentionally so. They always filled the air with banter, action, rhythm. It was part of their unspoken agreement with him: they’d carry the noise so he didn’t have to.
He sat, one arm resting on a raised knee, the other brushing over his sidearm—habit, not need. Everything was running fine without him. His thoughts didn’t cooperate.
Eivii
at the apartment. The silence afterward. She hadn’t broken in. That would’ve made sense. Would’ve given him a response—a protocol to follow, a threat to counter. She just... moved in like she belonged there. Like nothing had ever changed. Like she hasn't put a bounty on him. Like the scar on his face wasn’t her doing.
Nos squeezed his eyes shut. For a second, the smell of ocean salt was replaced by the memory. He ran through the list again; standard risk assessments, psychological manipulation profiles, Zeltron empathy bleed. Maybe she’d baited him emotionally. Maybe she was targeting Lady Sylvia Organa
again. Maybe it was trauma bonding.
Every reason except the one that ached under the rest. Now he couldn’t tell if he was still being hunted or just being used.
Nos opened his eyes. Rubbed his knuckles over his brow once. Said nothing.
Stay useful. Stay calm. Don't make it real. "You're fine."He muttered to himself again, voice safely drowned out by the Squad's game.
Kahlil leaned into the kiss. Just a bit. Public was still public, and it was more the fact he had leaned into the kiss, held her cheek even as briefly as he did, that spoke volumes on just how much he loved Valery, loved sharing these moments with her. A chuckle did escape him as he took notice of the youngest. Even Yvaine had turned to wanting their mother's attention over his.
They must understand how important this day was, then.
He squeezed her hand before he stood, lifting up both Yvaine and Eryx. "Then let's do so. I think she's close by?" There'd be more for her birthday later, that was for certain.
Perail wasn't going to pul off any outrageous stunts—not that, at this point in her training, she could have. But there were also notions of fair play in play, and she instinctively understood that. She wasn't there to show off—well, maybe a little bit. But at least not more than any young woman on the beach, and probably less, considering her attire.
She took a certain naive, child-like pleasure in being able to compete effectively with these trained soldiers. None of what she did truly crossed the line of the ordinarily impossible. But they were just not to be expected from people of her appearance. And she really did seem to have a knack for being in the right place at the right moment.
After the first round she had played with the team, two more people approached, a besalik and a human. They were as different from one another as they could possibly be—the human, confident, inscrutable, elusive. The besalisk, warm, but uncertain, insecure. What caught Perail's attention much more, however, was the rising intensity of the presence besides the improvised court. The red-skinned man was, by his appearance and habitus, clearly a soldier as well, and obviously familiar with those playing, but he did not participate. He appeared to be lost in thoughts, or memories, and they were not easy ones—it was palpable, at least to her.
While everyone was still organising themselves, she simply trudged over to him through the sand. "Hey", she said with a friendly smile and without shyness. "You're not playing? We're an uneven number." True, they had been before, after she had joined. But that wasn't really the point.
For a moment, Jonyna looked back to Valery Noble
with a pout. Why did this keep happening?! She keeps running into people who she immediately fell for, in this case literally, and couldn't help herself.
"You uh...single?"
Great. 5 minutes. Not a record by any stretch, but...
UGH!
The cathar couldn't help it. She didn't want to be alone.
Tyron was approached by Bex another, fellow Besalisk but he was a Soldier not a Jedi as far as Tyron had gathered. He never expected to see another like him with the conflict that erupted on his homeworld Ojom where Besalisks originated from. It was true with the way Tyron has turned out coming from his adopted clan and home he came from in Bastion. Bumped his two upper limb hands that curled into fists to bump his own against the pair Bex used as the pair interacted.
"Huh. Our reflexes are just as adequate against Force-adjacent abilities? Well what about one that has both. It'd count a lot for a few things no?"
Attention had changed when Vesik chimed in while the two Besalisks interacted with each other on the Volleyball made shift court on the beach. It seemed like Tyron was starting to fall in with the rest of Rubrus Squad having met both Alpha and Bravo sides of the squadron. Tyron stuck by Bex as the two gathered around to socially interact with the others; Cass, Connell, Drax and Jil. He watched Connel Vanagor
going to the Bravo side and he assumed that Alpha were wanting him taking a slot on the team.
"Alright I'll not block my team mates. Be good to get to know everyone here. I've not been a Jedi long was inducted by the Grandmaster Valery Noble
met Mak Manto
but not heard or seen from him for a long time. Even had some training from Master Jonyna Si
back in the temple grounds."
Tyron then saw a young woman around the Volleyball nets set up and making her approach. He hadn't seen or recognised Perail Staite
before in his time with the New Jedi Order. It was nice to meet a new face and perhaps this was a fellow Padawan Learner that was coming up and looking to make her impact in the Jedi and Alliance through her activities in the Galaxy she swore to protect and serve.
Squad Leader:Captain Nos Voros (Zeltron male) (Under protest. Still armed.)
Fire Team Alpha — “Alpha Splash Unit”
Lieutenant Karis Vonn (Human female, Corellian) – Wears mirrored aviators unironically. Claimed volleyball court command 3 minutes after landing. Has a strategic towel deployment zone mapped out.
Sergeant Lorne Vesik (Mirialan male) – Has a waterproof medkit. Is already reapplying sunscreen for the 4th time. Brought electrolyte packs. No one else remembered to hydrate.
Corporal Bex Jarn (Besalisk male) – Currently dual-wielding grilled nerfburgers. Plays volleyball like he’s breaching a bunker. Shirt’s been off since the shuttle landed.
Private Tash Renn (Human male, Chandrilan) – Folded his beach towel with military precision. Requested a rulebook for beach volleyball. Assigned to clipboard duty for morale tracking.
---
Fire Team Bravo — “Bravo Wavebreaker Team”
Sergeant Jil Torvan (Togruta female) – Organized beach volleyball brackets before breakfast. Refuses to wear flip-flops. Is the loudest cheerer and tactical trash-talker.
Corporal Rann Kyber (Nautolan male) – Built a sand sniper nest “for the bit.” Brings peacekeeper energy. Hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes but is winning at every lawn game.
Private Drax Molgar (Zabrak male) – Dug a sand pit large enough to hide a speeder. Keeps trying to spike the volleyball like it’s a thermal detonator. Shirt says: ‘Explosions are just loud hugs.’
Private Cass Deren (Duros male) – Wears floral swim trunks. Already challenged half the squad to beachball duels. Mixed everyone’s drinks without labeling them. Chaos incarnate.
The game had settled into a rhythm now—less like training, more like celebration. Jil called rotations with sharp claps, Rann kept quiet count of sets and spikes, and Bex’s voice echoed across the beach like a parade drill with punchlines.
"Watch the net, Tyron! Four limbs, zero excuses!"
"He’s carrying your whole bracket, Bex," Vesik called out. "Try not to dislocate a rookie."
"That’s not a rookie. That’s a siege tower with abs," Drax muttered, digging his heels in for the serve return.
Cass tossed an unlabeled drink bottle toward Connel. "Hydrate or face court-martial."
Rubrus was loud, as always—but not oblivious. As Perail stepped away from the court, Jil caught her mid-stride, just a gentle hand on the elbow.
"Careful," she said, low enough only Perail would hear. "Captain’s solid. But sometimes the waves break high around him. Don’t take it personal if he doesn’t talk much."
Jil gave a quick nod, then jogged backward to the Bravo line.
Bex, meanwhile, kept half an eye on Tyron between volleys. There was something easy in the way the kid moved now—like the rhythm of play gave him permission to just be.
"That’s it, Khan! You block the sun, you own the sky!" he roared, thundering up to slap Tyron’s lower back with all the brotherly force of a training hall wall.
"He’s syncing," Rann said quietly to no one in particular. "That’s good."
---
Nos didn’t lift his head until Perail was already beside him.
His posture didn’t change, but his empathic bleed did.
Tension bled outward from him—tight pressure under the ribs, a kind of stillborn dread that hovered behind his eyes. He wasn’t projecting on purpose. He never did. But he hadn’t sealed the cracks either.
"Uneven’s nothing new for them."
The joke fell flat. His tone was even, precise, practiced. But his body betrayed him—his hands were too still, jaw too tight, breath shallow beneath the calm.
He glanced toward the court. Saw Bex barking half-cheered commands at Tyron, the squad folding around their new additions like muscle memory.
"They’ve got it handled."
It should’ve sounded proud. Instead, it sounded like retreat. Nos straightened. Let his arms fall to his sides.
"I’m fine."
He said it too quickly.
Then added, quieter—just enough for her to hear, "Go play, don’t waste your time off on me."
He didn’t expect a response, though he wasn't particularly forceful with his words either.
Instead, he turned slightly—just enough to face the court again. His eyes tracked the movement out there, but his focus didn’t follow. Not really.
The Zeltron in him kept leaking—tension. Pressure, layered and old. He stood there long enough to be polite.
Loosening up as the sides were chosen, Connel listened to the banter and smirked. They reminded him of Omega Squad, who he thought was going to be here in some way shape or form, that was neither here nor there though. The bottled water was opened and while he downed a quarter of it, he took his shirt off and emptied the remainder over his head and letting it trickle down his body.
Stretching out a little more as he stepped out into the middle of the court, he did not really know the rules and did not know he was stepping into typically a “Libero” spot, but the guy was a quick study either way. Alright Ladies… we playing or talking about our feelings? He could banter.
"You, Sir, are a terrible liar", said Perail, laughing child-like, and yet gently scolding him with a kind of insight that was well beyond her years—not that she was herself aware that that was what she was doing. "But have it your way. You won't run away, will you?"
And with that, she ran back over the sand, in a rather girly way, to join the others on the playing field and take a spot next to Connel on beta team's side. It should only be fair that they would have the numeric advantage in people when alpha team, having the two besalisks, still retained the advantage in hands. "Right, let's play!" she affirmed with an open smile.
This felt odd but in a positive light for Tyron being within an environment where it seemed his natural Besalisk abilities and reflexes were well displayed as he volleyed the ball up for his team mates. Taking turns to spike down hard on the made-shift beach court. Everyone can see the agility and power that the Besalisk can produce although he had to be mindful with it being a warm, hot climate since the environment was a beach.
"Got it Bex. Heads up guys!"
The ball was coming back over their side of the net and Tyron was letting his nature flow and have a rhythm about his person as he dashes and bounds around the Alpha team's side of the court to. Sand debris was flying off the Besalisk's feet and the amount of dent and prints left was something to behold. Tyron went up high and blocked the sunlight out to go for a powerful spike after his team mates. Once he performed the power strike of a spike a smile appeared on Tyron's face as Bex pats him on the lower back and called some praise for his efforts so far.
Valery gave Kahlil a look the moment he picked up both little ones — soft, adoring, and just the slightest bit amused at the ease with which he carried their little world in his arms. Her fingers tightened briefly around his, and as she rose alongside him, she leaned in closer
"Oh, I know there's more coming later," she murmured with a smirk, having read his thoughts through their bond. She waggled her brows at him, entirely shameless and not remotely subtle — because it was her birthday, and she was going to enjoy every part of it.
Then she looked ahead and spotted the familiar shape of Reina not far down the beach — surrounded by a few friends, and with Azurine nearby too. Valery smiled, then turned back to Kahlil, nodding toward them.
"There she is."
Together, they made their way across the sand. Eryx let out a pleased little chirp in Kahlil's arms, reaching toward the sunlight with grubby fingers. Yvaine, content for now, cooed softly against his chest but kept glancing between her parents, clearly riding the high of family warmth and celebration.
As they approached, Valery lifted her hand in a wave. "Reina!" she called with warmth, her voice unmistakably bright. "Happy birthday!"
She stepped closer, that ever-present joy behind her smile as she glanced at Azurine and the others with a polite nod, then turned her full attention on Reina. "You look beautiful," she added, sincere and easy. "I hope you're being spoiled absolutely rotten today." Her tone was teasing — but her eyes, as always, held nothing but warmth.
Squad Leader:Captain Nos Voros (Zeltron male) (Under protest. Still armed.)
Fire Team Alpha — “Alpha Splash Unit”
Lieutenant Karis Vonn (Human female, Corellian) – Wears mirrored aviators unironically. Claimed volleyball court command 3 minutes after landing. Has a strategic towel deployment zone mapped out.
Sergeant Lorne Vesik (Mirialan male) – Has a waterproof medkit. Is already reapplying sunscreen for the 4th time. Brought electrolyte packs. No one else remembered to hydrate.
Corporal Bex Jarn (Besalisk male) – Currently dual-wielding grilled nerfburgers. Plays volleyball like he’s breaching a bunker. Shirt’s been off since the shuttle landed.
Private Tash Renn (Human male, Chandrilan) – Folded his beach towel with military precision. Requested a rulebook for beach volleyball. Assigned to clipboard duty for morale tracking.
---
Fire Team Bravo — “Bravo Wavebreaker Team”
Sergeant Jil Torvan (Togruta female) – Organized beach volleyball brackets before breakfast. Refuses to wear flip-flops. Is the loudest cheerer and tactical trash-talker.
Corporal Rann Kyber (Nautolan male) – Built a sand sniper nest “for the bit.” Brings peacekeeper energy. Hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes but is winning at every lawn game.
Private Drax Molgar (Zabrak male) – Dug a sand pit large enough to hide a speeder. Keeps trying to spike the volleyball like it’s a thermal detonator. Shirt says: ‘Explosions are just loud hugs.’
Private Cass Deren (Duros male) – Wears floral swim trunks. Already challenged half the squad to beachball duels. Mixed everyone’s drinks without labeling them. Chaos incarnate.
There was a moment—just after Tyron’s spike slammed down with the grace of a meteor impact—when time stood still.
Sand flew.
Cass rolled dramatically across the Bravo side of the court, not even close to saving it, but yelling "Sacrifices must be made!" anyway as he face-planted into a dune he’d definitely built himself.
"We’re calling that a Class-3 seismic event!" Vesik shouted from the sideline, slapping his datapad like it owed him accuracy. "Kinetic orce levels exceeding friendly fire thresholds!"
"Reset the bracket!" Jil barked. "Bravo, regroup! I want heads on swivels, hands in the air, and no more excuses about Force latency!"
Drax dove into the sand pit he'd made earlier for ambience, emerging caked in grit but with the volleyball in hand, grinning like he'd just pulled a live detonator out of a reactor core.
"Time to counterattack," he growled, arming the serve like it was a rocket payload.
Karis Vonn—mirrored shades, towel cape, and zero tolerance for Bravo's theatrics—clapped once.
"Alpha, battle formation Zerek-Seven." Her voice was crisp. Sharp. Tactical. "Tyron’s the hammer. Tash, you're eyes. Bex—"
"I’m the wall, the line, the lunch break and the post-game grilling!" Bex bellowed as he lifted his arms, four limbs gleaming in the sun, ready to absorb all kinetic force like a living riot shield.
"I don't think Bex actually knows how to play, Ma'am," Tash reported dutifully. "Also, adjusted Bravo’s average coordination rating based on hydration levels."
Cass emerged from the sand, goggles askew. "You're lucky I’m built for chaos!" he called across the court, tossing the ball up with two hands, rotating once, then spiking it with a yell.
Bravo’s side lit up like a dance floor.
Rann didn’t speak—but he moved. One motion, full extension, intercept trajectory.
A new rally had begun.
And in the middle of it all—grit, sun, laughter, and battle cries—the Rubrus Squad moved like they were born for this.
Alpha and Bravo had become something more than teams.
They were battalions.
And the court was a warzone... of friendship.
---
He watched her rejoin the game.
That light step across the sand. The eager shout. The way the squad instinctively shifted to accommodate her—no questions asked, no vetting. Just motion. Trust.
It was the kind of ease he’d never been able to replicate. Nos exhaled through his nose and turned his gaze slightly—away from the ball, the cheers, the sand trails. His vision fixed on nothing. Just the horizon. The line between sea and sky.
The words lingered. They were true, in this moment at least. And he hadn’t tried that hard to lie, had he? Just enough to avoid concern. Just enough to keep from spilling what didn’t belong here.
Because it didn’t.
You didn’t bleed in front of children. And Perail—she could be some powerful, insightful, Jedi something or other—but to him, she was still a kid. Nineteen. Bright-eyed, bushy tailed.
They all deserved a break. A birthday party. A stupid game in the sun where nothing tried to kill then and no one brought up things like "this used to be my place, and she just moved back in uninvited." Wouldn’t explain how she had stepped into his quarters like she’d never left, like his home and his bed, like he himself was still hers. He wouldn’t say he still hadn’t locked her out, even though he knew he should.
Maybe it would have been the right thing to say. Unfitting of the situation, but saying something was the right first step. On paper.
He shifted his weight slightly, the sand beneath his feet adjusting. His fingers brushed the utility strap again. Always there. Always anchored. A reminder. Keep the posture. Keep the function.
He turned back to the match—just enough to watch. His empathy once again dampened under self-control, but still leaking—like heat from metal under pressure. Tension. Exhaustion. Something else, unspoken.
Rubrus was shouting again.
Alpha and Bravo clashing like they were reenacting myth. Cass dove. Drax exploded upward like his shoes were wired to C-20 charges. Someone screamed about “friendship tactics.”
Nos blinked. They’ll be fine. They didn’t need him, not for this.
After catching another wave, Mykel was just about to plop back on the board to paddle again when another surfer suddenly came up beside him. He wobbled in surprise by the near collision, almost keeling over into the sea. However, at the last moment he managed to steady himself enough so that he fell back on his board instead, bum slamming against the lacquered wood with an audible wet slap.
Now, it wouldn't have been the end of the world if he had fallen into the water, but that outcome would have been more than a little embarrassing as he was supposed to be the instructor that day.
He looked over to the source of the voice, a woman as blue as the sea around them. Decked out in a matching wetsuit and board, in another, more superstitious age, she could have easily been mistaken as a Nereid of legend.
"Hey, it's all good," he said, shaking his head while letting out a chuckle. "I should have been paying attention, honestly."
Fighting for balance, Vayla managed to stand at that moment but the same could not be said for this man. The wet slap to his butt as he crashed onto his board made her stifle her own chuckle. It could not be helped. As surfers, however, falling was par for the course. What mattered was getting back up.
Having debated whether to keep going after her apology, Vay decided to stay in place, catching his words. They mirrored her own. Had she been paying attention then she too might have prevented the near collision.
Funny. She was a Force-user, a Jedi, and evidently so was he, but it was as if even her innate senses were abated for the sake of the sea. There was something about taking these waves like someone more mundane. When it came to using less of her power, anyway.
“That looked like it hurt,” she observed as she turned her board toward him. The waves were consistent as she maintained balance, making adjustments. It took time and effort but after enough tries she had managed to get the hang of this sport. Still had much to learn, of course. “I’d offer you my hand but we might both fall in.”
She looked past him as water curled higher and higher. "I'm Vayla by the way." She waited a moment for him to give his own. “I think that wave is calling our names.” She gestured over his shoulder as the little monster came.
Azzie probably should have noticed Aris approaching; he wasn't generally all that stealthy (especially with how much he towered over her in size). Sure, she picked up the telltale signs of his aura, but by that point, he was already on her other side. She had a pretty bad habit of not watching her surroundings when she was overly focused on keeping her eyes off something like, say, the vast kriffing blue that stretched out beyond the warm sand and out so far that it touched the skyline.
"Firstly, I still can't really swim. You might want to work on your ability to give instructions; they were a bit unclear." She teased, throwing a playful elbow to his arm. At the same time, she kept her gaze lower than she used to when talking to him, unable to allow herself to look at his face for too long. The guilt it sparked in her chest swirled around against the knowing that it wasn't Aris's or Kahlil's fault that they resembled her tormentor so fiercely.
If not for the fact that Aris was like the brother she never had and had been there through so much, it might have been much more difficult to deal with than it already was. Aadihr's light brush against her hand was enough to keep the shadowed images of those red eyes from taking the place of Aris's bright green.
Time. She just needed some time, is all.
Before she got the opportunity to start on her second point, the fact that whatever the hell was out there was way bigger than the river spring had been, Eve had come over, and she was pulled into a hug. "Not the biggest fan is an understatement. Did you know there's no word for 'ocean' in Iridoni? Food for thought, huh?" She hoped that would make her point more clearly than anything else.
She would have happily stayed where she was, closer to the bar setup than anything else, but then she was being tugged towards other things. Everest really had loosened up since their night at the club, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips at the fact given how much she had missed. "Hold up, I haven't had nearly enough drinks to go straight into limbo—are you kidding?"
"Azurine."
Azzie stopped pretty quickly, chuckling as she joked, "Unless there's another running around I don't know about, that would be me—" Another hug caught her much more off guard than she expected.
Of course, she had noticed the odd shifts in Reina's aura when she was around, emotional patterns that pointed to one instability or another that hadn't been there before she showed up. Now, though, it was almost comical to her in the long run and, frankly, reminded her of Zaiya Ceti
and how the colorful padawan had been so odd when she was concerned for the longest time, just in a different way. "I don't think we've talked enough to be owed an apology, but I can change that pretty quickly, and then you can have a real excuse to dislike me." She flashed a quick, sly grin as she pulled the little box to hand to Reina, the one that held the gift she'd put together.
"It's not much, but I definitely had time on my hands to work on it between the physical therapy and drug-induced naps. Everyone deserves to be celebrated every now and then. Don't forget that."
Azzie waited only to see Reina's reaction to the gift, then turned her attention back to Everest, Aris, and Aadihr so as not to take up too much of the birthday girl's time when there were so many wanting her attention. A small spark of mischief lacing into the amethysts of her eyes along with the nervousness she still felt at being much too close to such a large body of water for her liking. "If I'm going to be doing limbo, then I'm dragging your asses with me."
Jonyna Si
&
Valery Noble
when he was training under them. He paced along toward Alpha and Bravo to get ready to enjoy some time on Corellia. This will become a memory, perhaps the first of many to make as a Jedi and apart of both the Alliance and Jedi Order.
Nos Voros
|
Connel Vanagor
| OPEN
