Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. (Mirshko)

[Arrbi Betna]

Fatherhood.

Not everyone received the opportunity to become one and even fewer opted to remain one. To be a father was more than just siring offspring. It was teaching them, tutoring them, guiding them. To be a father was to raise your children.

In the Mandalorian culture no one cared who your parent was, only the parent you would become.

To be honest, Betna wondered how he even managed some days. Since the day Anija had told him she was pregnant to the day their daughter was born into the world Betna had worried how to be a father. Ultimately, he realized that between researching such things in his off time and quietly perusing holobooks on the matter that there was no perfect method to raising a child or how to be a parent. So, he'd done the one thing he'd always been good at.

He winged it.

"Alright, Mir'ika," he said to his daughter as they sat finishing lunch. They'd set out food on a blanket in a small clearing near the Betna homestead. It was close enough that Anija wouldn't worry too much, but far enough that they wouldn't be disturbed by the rest of the clan as they moved about on their daily chores. "I know your mother's gihaal isn't... Really that... Well... We have to eat it or else Mom will be unhappy that we didn't eat all of our lunch."

Explaining some things like Anija's gihaal to his daughter was always tricky. Anija cooked very well, it was just the fish-meal she had a little bit of trouble with. It was edible, but, to be honest, Arrbi had always found the stuff to be far from palatable.

"Once we're done eating, we'll get back to work, okay?" he said with a grin.

[member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

As Arrbi handed her the wrapped package of gihaal, Mirshko sighed. She loved her mom's cooking. And well... her da wasn't so bad either if he cared to admit it. But she knew both of them much preferred Anija's cooking. But... this was the one thing neither of them really enjoyed. After a moment, she wrinkled her nose slightly, and carefully peeled back the parchment the gihaal had been wrapped in.

As she did so, she sighed again. "You know... " she said softly, "I've seen mom working at this several times... but... you're right. It just tastes a bit... weird. Like it's overcooked or something?" she blurted it out and then bit her lip before whispering, "Don't tell her I said that..." Her cheeks heated for a moment and she concentrated on eating. A sip of water every now and then helped. "I.... don't suppose there's any way we could... hide it...?" she hedged, before perking up slightly at the mention of getting back to training. "What were we gonna do next..?" she mumbled around a mouthful of gihaal.

[member="Arrbi Betna"]

 

[Arrbi Betna]

"Naysh, it tastes like it's too salty to me."

He looked at his daughter with an eyebrow raised at her suggestion to toss it out.

"Do you want to tell your mother, the Force sensitive, that we ate the gihaal when we threw it out?" Arrbi asked with a lopsided grin. "She'd find out in a heartbeat. It helps when you put it on the bread, though. It helps it go down easier."

"As for training, I was thinking I'd leave it up to you today," he said around a mouthful of fish-meal and bread. "We can do some stealth training or I can start teaching you how to dissemble."

Dissembling was a technique of the mind that the Betna clan had perfected over generations. It was the reason why Arrbi never feared the mindtricks and mental assaults that the saber jockeys loved using so often. It wasn't perfect, but a master dissembler could resist even the strongest attacks for a time. The last time he'd had to use such a thing was over a planet called Eriadu years ago. The incident had left a powerful Force sensitive irritated and Betna with a nasty migraine. It was, however, a very good skill to have, Force sensitive or not.

[member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Arrbi Betna"]

Mirshko made a bit of a face at that. "Not really.... I know how she gets about her cooking..." He had a point. She knew mom would find out immediately if she tried to lie. The joys of having a Force Sensitive mother. And a trained Knight to boot. Sighing softly, Mirshko accepted a slice or two of bread from her da and carefully spread what little gihaal remained in the parchment across one slice of the thick bread.

She made a face at Betna and then took a bite. He was right... it wasn't as bad as when it was eaten by itself. And after a moment or so to chew the first bite, she told him as much. "You know... you're right, da. It's better that way." She looked at him closely for a moment, "You've been eating it for a long time, haven't you...? And you never told her, did you...?"

At the mention of training, she quickly finished chewing her bite of bread and gihaal, coughing slightly in her haste. "I..hmm..." She leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand as she thought about it. For the moment, the remains of her lunch were forgotten in her left hand."Well, I don't know. Both sound like fun..." A moment's pause and then, "What's the dissembling technique, again? I know you've mentioned it before..?"

 

[Arrbi Betna]

Betna cracked a grin at his daughter. She was pretty perceptive for her age, something she probably got from her mother.

"Sometimes you have to smile through it for the ones you love," he said, answering without answering, before taking another bite of bread and gihaal. Sure enough, it was as he suspected. Too much salt and, perhaps, a little too grainy. "Well, dissembling is a mental technique the Betna clan developed and perfected a long time ago. It was before everything lost contact with everyone and long before then, we suspect."

He finished off the bread and fish-meal and took a sip of water from his canteen before passing it to Mirshko. She had her own, but Arrbi passed it over anyways. She would probably need the hydration more than he would today.

"What it does is makes it..." he tried to find words for it. "Very difficult for a Force user to affect your mind. Think of it like... covering your mind in oil or grease. When they try to grab on to you or affect you in some way, they can't get a grip or the attack simply slides off. It's easy to learn, but very difficult to master."

[member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

At his comment, she laughed slightly, and rolled her eyes, but more at his non-answer than anything else. As she considered that for a moment, she concentrated on finishing her bread and gihaal. Yup, definitely salty. Making a bit of a face, she finished the last few bites and licked the breadcrumbs off her fingers before accepting her da's canteen. Her eyebrow arched for a moment as she did so. Well, ok. she was thirsty. Salty food had a way of doing then to people.

She held the canteen for a moment and swished a mouthful of the cool water around in her mouth before she swallowed it. Then she took another sip. Once she'd swallowed the second one, she looked over at him. "Since before the great Disappearance...?" she asked softly. She could remember hearing whispered reports of it as a young girl, and her da and mom had talked about it often when she was growing up. At least when she thought she wasn't listening.

Looking up at him for a few seconds, she frowned slightly and tried to concentrated on what he as saying. It made sense. "I think it would be good if people I don't want affecting my thoughts can't." And then something occurred to her. "And nayc...I wouldn't use it against mom. That's rude.."

[member="Arrbi Betna"]

 

[Arrbi Betna]

"I do," Arrbi said, deadpan. "Once you master it, it becomes natural to do it at all times when you're awake. Your mother couldn't read my thoughts if she tried."

With that said, his serious face cracked a little bit. He knew his wife didn't need to use anything Force related to see into his thoughts.

"Your mother can still read my thoughts, though," he said with a smile. "I don't know how she does it, but she does. I suspect it's body language, but she'll never tell me. Must be a Mom Thing."

Mom Things. The things a mother did or knew that you could never understand how she managed them. Moms could clean the uncleanable, have utmost patience in the face of the most aggravating of situations, and read the minds of her family without once touching the Force. Oh how Arrbi wished he could at least have one of those abilities. It seemed the only 'superpower' he'd gotten with becoming a parent was how to find new ways to disappear when extra chores were handed out. It seemed that his daughter had picked up the same traits as well. He figured it was the stealth training.

"Anyways, it's pretty useful. We can do that a bit if you want, but first let's clean up, alright?" he said, gesturing at the remains of their lunch and the cloth they sat on.

[member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

"A mom thing.." she sounded somewhat skeptical, but then she saw the twinkle in her Da's eye and grinned before punching him lightly in the arm. "I dunno. Seems we both have a talent for vanishing when chore time comes around.." she said softly, with a sideways glance towards the homestead as she said it. "I'd like to work on that, lek.." she told him with a grin as she brushed a few crumbs from her lap and ate the last couple bites of her bread and gihaal.

She quickly followed it with a few big swallows from her canteen. Not sure if I'll ever get used to that, she thought for a moment as she checked around them for any discarded food wrappings. Taking the parchment paper, she shook the crumbs out into the grass and then folded it carefully before sticking it back in the small pack in which he'd carried their food out. Once that was done, she stood, and motioned for him to stand. When he had, she moved the pack to the side and picked up the blanket, shaking it out carefully.

[member="Arrbi Betna"]

 

[Arrbi Betna]

"Alright," began Arrbi with a grin. "We can work on that, then."

He helped his daughter pack up the remains of their lunch with methodical movements speaking of a life raised in a nomadic culture. While his daughter picked up the blanket, he moved all of the empty containers and packaging next to the packs they'd brought. He helped Mirshko fold up the blanket and then took a few moments to show her how to properly pack the empty packaging away. Sure, he'd probably taught her dozens of times now, but it didn't hurt to go over it again. That was how life went in Mando culture. Learn, relearn, practice, perfect it, and then you teach it to your own children.

Once they were done and everything packed up, he gestured for them to sit down in the clearing. The grass was tall and uncut, but the clearing itself was quiet and calm. The quietness about them would help with concentration while the grass beneath them would help give a challenge to someone learning dissembling. It required a great deal of focus and concentration when first learning. Some would rather hand the lessons out and then challenge later, but that wasn't the Mandalorian way.

Mandalorians understood that all things were struggle, all things were conflict. Without challenge, nothing could change. Without change, progress became stagnation. This was just as true for empires as it was for individuals. His daughter would learn the way he learned: through adversity.

"Alright, Mir'ika. Once your comfortable, we'll start."

[member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Arrbi Betna"]

Helping her Da pack away the parchment papers and other remains of their lunch helped her calm a little. She'd done the same thing a hundred times now it felt like. Taking a deep breath, Mirshko settled in to the tall grass near Arrbi. She was nervous. While she understood the basic idea of it, she'd never really tried it before. She took a moment to dust a few crumbs from her pants before she settled into a cross-legged posture. It was the most comfortable she could think of, and she figured they might be here for a good while.

"So.... how do we start..?" she asked softly.

 

[Arrbi Betna]

"Well, for starters, we think," he said with a grin. "And we imagine."

Dissembling was tricky at best and difficult at worst. It was a state of mind and akin to an entirely different level of thinking. He'd even heard of it being referred to as a completely different level of existence, something similar to what hermit monks on some worlds attempt to attain.

Betna was no hermit monk, but he could see the concept behind such thoughts. It was easy to teach, but hard to understand and even harder to learn, much less master. But he would teach his daughter as best he could. At least, he would teach her what she needed to begin to learn.

Learning and mastering were up to Mirshko entirely.

"We think about things, lots of things," he continued without missing a beat. "All sorts of things. Animals, food, objects, people, places, feelings, emotions. We think about them all, but we think about them randomly. Above all else, we keep our minds... fluid. All those thoughts, all those things we're randomly throwing out of our mind in our thoughts are all afloat on a sort of... oil. That oil flows and moves constantly, always shifting and pushing the random thoughts down so new ones can come up. Someone trying to read your feelings or even attack your mind will latch on to those objects and thoughts only to have them sucked down into the 'oil' before they can grab hold. And before they can chase them down into your mind, they're gone as new thoughts and things come back up."

[member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Arrbi Betna"]

"Keep it fluid...." she murmured, almost to herself with a raised eyebrow. It sounded simple, on the surface... but Mirshko knew it was hard enough to stay focused on certain things right now as it was. Sighing, she settled a bit more into the grass, feeling the sharp edges of it bite into her bare shins as she shifted. As a general rule, her thoughts were all over the place anyways. Frowning, she nodded slightly, and sighed as she let her eyes fall closed. Everything..... That one word echoed slightly in her mind as she began to calm herself it was a task with which she still had a great deal of difficulty. She'd much rather be exploring the forests around their home with the two strill which her parents kept.

At the same time, she knew what he was trying to teach her was important. If the news reports from the holonet were any clue, things throughout the galaxy were.. bad. Vasrious factions were warring with each other... and it had been going on longer than she'd been alive. From what she understood, a great deal of it was caused by the Great Disappearance several years ago. It had caused many worlds to just... vanish from the overall Mandalorian Territories. Accroding to some reports, some worlds had fallen to the Sith, and still others to a faction called Primeval. It wasn't one she knew much about, but from what she DID know, they seemed bent on either wiping out their galactic neighbors, or... converting them to whatever weird religion they followed.

She frowned again, realizing she'd been focusing on it too much. And then her thoughts shifted to some of the things Arrbi had been teaching her lately. Blaster care and handling, and some basic hand to hand techniques. She wasn't very skilled in the latter.. yet. And it showed strongly in any training matches she'd been in with the other village children. She found herself much more comfortable tinkering with a blaster or other technology.

 

[Arrbi Betna]

Betna watched his daughter for a few moments, seeing her attempt to dissemble quietly. It was easy enough to do, honestly. Anyone could do it. It was a matter of difficulty doing the technique continually and over long periods of time while doing it unconsciously. That was where the problems lay for anyone but a master at the skill.

The thing was, without a Force user at hand, there was no real way to test it using the powers a Force sensitive had. Fortunately, Betna's father and many of the other clan warriors knew a way around this. Betna waited until he could see his daughter start to relax just enough to show she wasn't concentrating on the task while still concentrating. As soon as he was sure she was trying to pay attention without paying attention, he acted.

"Bantha Sandwich," he said suddenly and firmly.

[member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Arrbi Betna"]

It worked. Mirshko lost her concentration, and sighed, muttering a word she had no business knowing. She'd become too focused on one thing again. It always seemed to happen. And this wasn't the first time. Frowning, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Usually, she had no trouble picking up new things quickly... but not this. Nervously, she chewed on her bottom lip and watched Da for a moment, wondering what he might do.