Private The body of, the memory of... (Noah Corek)

[Yasha Cadera]

Alderaan
Corek-Feanor Estate

The being in the bed jolted awake, eyes hazed by slumber interrupted by the same nightly vision. Always the same, since Mandalore.

Deep black waters overhead, with six resounding, clattering booms that shocked the water like spears of incongruent ice. Words, vibrations in the black. Syllables stretched in a tongue known but misunderstood. Then…. nothing.

Nothing until a shock and corresponding awareness in the pale cacophony of the surgical suite, where Taozi Fuyuan , Dr. Allard, Alexandra Feanor Mig Gred , Skorvek Noah Corek worked upon the cadaver of Mand’alor the Infernal. The beings in the room were clouds of witnesses, cloying with syllables of their own, piecemeal meanings shuddering through hammer and anvil and drum of ears, which felt quilted by fibrous plant material spun into sheets so thin every inch of … her… every inch of her ached.

Others came and went in the early days, where cognition was as beleaguered as the dreams of black waters. Gibberish shifted with time, as eyes which hazed grew clearer, and the tongue within the mouth, within the body moved. Shifted. Made its’ own noise. Such a simple thing, an infant’s thing… and for months the body of Yasha was but an infant in a post-Mandalorian world.

Someone came into a darkened room and brought her out. Back, back to beloveds. And the healing continued by a tree, which stank of magic, until finally she spoke with the clear recall of one awoken from a terrifyingly long, dull sleep.

Others whispered of death, but as Yasha’s biot walked through its’ passageways, there came little after the deluge but the peace of knowing she awoke from drowning to warm bodies in a large bed. To the laughter of children and their petulant cries. This day, as the green-fleshed right arm of the Biot pushed at the mattress and propped the body up, fog cleared. This was her bedroom, the bedroom shared with Noah… no. Noa’ik, the beloved. The one shared with Ale’ika, the beloved. There was a bundle on the bed, a girl old enough to fledge soon, only a few more cycles…

“… Momoe.” Syllables of gibberish, no. Shifting back into the headboard, the right hand pressed against Yasha’s forehead, and slid down her cheek. Not gibberish, a nickname for her… daughter… “Momoe, love. I’m hungry. Where is your father?”

The child gasped and sat bolt up, mystified wide eyes.

“I… I’ll get him! DAD! DAAD!” She bolted off the bed, gangle-limbs clumsily beating at the floor. “DAD Buir’s awake! She said my name, Dad! DAD she said my name! DAAAAD!!”

Lips upturn, a sound akin to laughter strikes across her ribcage as I push off the bed and search a closet for something else to wear beyond the pale yellow night dress.

I am the body of,
the memory of,
the future of

Yasha Cadera​

 

[Noah Corek]

Noah had been in his workshop, the only time he truly got to himself anymore, that was of course excluding the time he spend at his wife's bedside. He slowly inserted a rather volatile component into a personal project of his when the door, an actual door with a doorknob since it was ten times easier to keep kids out than an automatic door, was slammed over and he thankfully was past the point of extreme danger.

Quickly inserting the component in he turned and raised an eyebrow at his daughter as he turned in the stool that was in front of his workbench. "Morgan Nussyn Feanor-Cadera...what is rule number one of coming into my workshop?"

The thirteen year old took a few deep breaths, out of breath from having run from the bedroom almost halfway across the estate and down to the basement to her fathers workshop. "Rule...number one...is...always knock." He nodded at his daughters out of breath answer. "And a gold star to you my daughter. Now, what did you deem so important to break that rule?"

After a few more deep breaths Morgan had caught her breath and looked at her dad. The look she gave him immediately caused his demeanor to shift. "Moe...what's wrong?" His voice was much softer, using her nickname instead of her full name. "Mom's awake and she said my name!" As soon as she said this a grin broke over her face.

Noah stood fast enough and the stool clattered against the floor from the force, immediately darting towards the door and past his daughter. Darting up the stairs, taking them two at a time Noah stopped at the door to his and his wives shared bedroom. He looked down at himself, spattered with gun oil and other various byproducts from tinkering.

Trying to wipe it off he eventually gave up and sighed, bringing his hand up to his hair to smooth it down and wishing he had shaved today, knowing that the bags he had under his eyes probably wouldn't endear him either. Taking a deep breath he opened the door and stepped in, his voice catching in his throat when he saw his wife, Yasha Cadera standing there on her own two feet. "Yash'ika?" His voice cracked, tears threatening to spill as he looked at her.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The fledgeling vanished with successive noise that faded until Yasha was alone in the large, plush room. Temperature became known, a coolness in the air as unpleasant as the wobble in her feet. The bed and blankets were a comfortable cocoon, there must be some form of cocoon for waking. Into the closet, her right hand drifted across fabric on hangers, sweaters folded on shelves. The vong arm lifted, talons raked at the yellow nightgown until it fell shredded off her scarred and sutured skin. Soft wool was chosen, stroked by Yasha’s left hand and the cold shoulder sweater pulled over head. Long tan linen trousers were shimmied up anemic hips, drawstring tied in a clumsy bow as noise echoed up to her ears.

A haggard man covered in acrid, threatening scents rocketed into the calm space. Talons lengthened, Yasha tottled on her feet, right arm forward as amber eyes unclouded.

“Name... a signifier of identity.” Yash’ika... behind the dark circles, the eyes of the beloved, who reached for her daily. Slept beside her and voiced the syllables of identification. Her voice warbled in Epicant, lips working over fanged teeth. “Yash’ika. You call me Yash’ika, but others do not. Others are not allowed to call me Yash’ika, or... it means little to hear the name from them.”

She wobbled in place, the talons retreated and her posture relaxed. For the first time in the agony of waiting, Yasha stood in her matrimonial bedroom and a slim upturn to her lips betrayed a growing cognition and warm affection.

“You, the Noa’ik, make food. I sent Momo to get you, because you make food and I could eat a ... a... shirshoo, although I do not know what one is.” She licked tattooed lips and raised her arms out to Noah, her mind still fogged enough to forget the beasts they hunted on Mandalore when she was a child with the Gurlanin pack. Finally. Finally Yasha was hungry. “Noa’ik, I’m stuck. I think I walked too far.”

Noah Corek

 

[Noah Corek]

Yasha Cadera​

Noah reached up and hurriedly wiped the moisture that had been gather at the corners of his eyes away. He quickly made his way over to Yasha and did something he had been waiting to do for a while. Leaning up on his tiptoes to cover the height difference between the two he pressed a small kiss against the tip of her nose. To an outside viewer it would seem like a small gesture of affection but between Yasha and Noah it was so much more.

"Yup...that's you. My Yash'ika...and I'm your Noa'ik. Well the only other person who can call either of us that is Ale'ika." He reached over and pulled an arm around her waist to steady her, a task made that much easier by the amount of weight she had shed. When her words about food reached his ears he shook his head with a smile. "I'll cook whatever it is you want me too." He made a mental note to also start creating some high protein meal plans for her so she could start regaining weight and muscle.

Giving her a small smile at her admittance of walking to far he took her by the hands and began guiding her back towards the bed to where they could sit. Once there he helped gently lower her down to the bed before standing himself. He ran a hand through his head and began pacing, a tick of his when he was thinking. "Alright alright. Now...how to get you down to the kitchen? Ok yeah! Your hover chair...where the feth is your hoverchair?" The usually composed and proper Noah Corek, a man known for being able to stay cool under any combat situation, was currently giving himself a small fit over finding a simple hover chair.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The act of healing consumed more than a wounded individual, a hypothesis proven by the state of Noah Corek ’s eyes as he looked at her. The wife, the body which once bore the armour of the Infernal. Tears tied in mutuality with exhaustion, before the fall.

A memory. The powerful Mand’alor standing before a battle about to trigger the Wolf Helm. The lover held a baby in his arms, one of the twin children on a visit from Alderaan. He leaned up on his tip toes to kiss her, a surprise that his aim was both off and true. A kiss to the tip of her nose, something to leave a shocked smile on the face of the Hell Child. Her helm sealed her away again, days before its’ removal from the entrenched war against slavers in rising Mandalorian space. Yasha’s lips tweaked into a soft smile.

The arm around her was welcome to prevent the wobble of musculature firing out of control, or too weak to carry the weight of Yasha’s physique. She leaned into it, cheek dipping down to rest on Noah’s head as if holding itself up was far too much trouble. A marionette on pinpricks, she closed her eyes as his hands slid into hers.

“Meat. Cooked flesh of noble kills…” I open my eye, yellow and orange iris embedded in the ball joint of the right shoulder. We walk together, my Noa’ik and I. Slowly the microcosm of the room becomes but one glint of space in a wider world. For so long it felt this room was the universe, swelling in the brain months in reversion. “You hunt with the younglings... we hunted, taught them together... I apologize, my mind feels... fragments are connecting like pearls on a neck... thing. Neck string? Neck..... now the image is gone...”

Images connect to memories, the thrill of taking down a beast so gigantic and menacing its’ death is a celebration. Noah’s pace, was it a danger? Was it horror or fear which led him to charge across the room in the same back and forth lines?

“Hoverchair? I’ll get it! I know where it is, Dad!” Morgan yelped and dashed into a side alcove, coming out seconds later with the gold gilded chair built for Yasha’s specifications.

“Dad…” Morgan giggled, her smile displaying elongated fangs like one of her mothers. The genetic offspring of Yasha Cadera and Alexandra Feanor couldn’t help the laughter at her father’s rapid pace. “It’s right here… here you go… Mom?”

A hope in the child’s eyes, blue gentle eyes.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you both with hunger.” Yasha smiled with a deep bellied laugh, her head shaking slowly from side to side. “Look at you both! Avians with no heads.”

The laughter continued, as the right arm swelled and plucked the chair over to heave her body into it. Legs… legs used to work. One foot then the other. Now, there is the chair. Enough room to lounge, with enough of Yasha left to pat a thigh and hold out both arms for the fledgeling girl-child, who dotes. “Has the crisis of the hoverchair been averted, my loves? Momoe. come sit with me. You're warm.”

 

[Noah Corek]

He chuckled as he felt Yasha's cheek rest against his head, the sensation bringing memories flooding back to his mind of times past. Moments of passion and love where he'd laid his head against Yasha's and vice-versa. The memories surged through him, providing him the strength he needed in the moment.

He chuckled at the words that came from Yasha Cadera , in particular her request for meat. "Don't worry about that Yash, had Theo pick up some nuna legs when he went to the store yesterday...Oh...I guess you don't about Theo and my sister do you?" When she stumbled over for the words she was looking for he let out another small little chuckle.

Reaching under the neckline of his shirt he brought out his own necklace, a simple chain with his dog tags from his time in the army and his wedding band from Alex, a simple band made from Beskar, a piece of Mandalorian culture inserted in what wasn't. "A necklace? Is that the word you were looking for darling?"

He stopped pacing when he heard Moe's words, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Walking over to his daughter he pressed a kiss against her forehead. "My darling ad'ika Morgan to the rescue, what would I ever do without you and your siblings?"

As soon as he said the other half of the twins walked into the room. While Morgan was the child of Alex and Yasha, Junior was the child of Alex and Noah. His blue-gray eyes and jawline scream Noah but the mop of red hair and pointed ears screamed Alex. "Well dad you'd probably forget to eat...or shave...or do anything other than sit by buir's bedside and tinker in your workshop." A sharp wit and a sharp tongue...two more traits Junior inherited from his parents, though which one was still a point of contention in the family.

His nose raised from the book he had it buried in and his eyes widened, the book he held suddenly hitting the floor as he dashed across the room, immediately finding his mothers waist wrapped in his arms.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Breathing came easier to the broken body no bacta nor medicine could repair as she stood in the arms of her spouse. As to how long she spent in the cover of the fog, or the methods of her eventual resurrected wakefulness, the body knew not. Lungs worked like bellows, lips and tongue shifted in speech as electric impulses hit the neural network from the biot’s living shell to Yasha’s brain. Memory attached in discombobulated snippets, images without context beyond the ‘one who does no harm’ to her, to Yasha.

Noah and Alex. The ones who do no harm. Images of a man whose techniques and medical interventions indeed felt of harm in the moment returned. Theo Allard, an exhausted shell of a man locked in perpetual fatigue to heal or make some mean difference to the body and the biot.

“Theo…” More images flooded, Yasha’s face draining pale from the effort of attempting to connect memories. “… your sister drugged him. Took him out of commission and helped me in his stead… what happened to them? Are they…”

At first the metal around Noah’s neck appeared as an aberration. Some form of collar or chain, which linked him to an unsavoury past. Yasha stared blank faced at it, her right arm rolling each finger in and out of a loose fist. There was a necklace around her neck once, a stone that voided the ache of black waters from within her. Crafted by a brother… a familial adopted one. “… yes. That word.”

How could one word have such varied intents?

The intrusion at first meant nothing, a body with little threat to be aware of between Noah and Morgan. A body in a room, with the voice of another fledgeling, this one the timbre of a typical male.

Then Noah Corek Jr ’s book fell to the floor with a loud smack, and the flesh of the biot turned scaled and green. Talons yanked out, hand raised to strike at the offending intruder, who attacked… who rushed too fast for safety’s sake. Yet, a microsecond before the biot struck with poison dart and talon, Junior’s arms wrapped around Yasha’s waist.

Unlike Morgan, Junior’s scent held none of Yasha in it, the biological child of others. Yasha’s head craned to the side as dull amber eyes locked on the flame-red hair and pointed ears. The beloveds. The boy’s scent reminded of the beloved.

“Do not rush so fast, little one. I almost killed you.” The arm descended, talons retracted and armour scale receded to green tinted flesh once again.

“Are you willing to eat the food with us? Your father is going to make us meat, I do not hate the idea of sharing it with you and your sister… although Noa’ik… hmmmm.” An upturn of her lips again, “Maybe he can have our left-overs.”

 

[Noah Corek]

He let out a long and loud laugh when she mentioned Theo and his sister. "Yeeeeeeah...well she obviously made an impression on Theo because they started dating...and then they got married...and then they got pregnant with a little girl. So to break it down, we have a brother-in-law and a niece on the way."

Noah's head turned turned Junior as he heard him begin padding towards Yasha, his heart racing unsure of how the biot would react. It reacted like he would expect. He was just as close to throwing himself in front of her between and dying for Junior before he let out a breath when the biot stood down.

He reached and ruffled Junior's hair, pressing a kiss against his head. "Listen to your mother Junior...the biot has a mind of its own, so don't do anything like that alright buddy?" He looked at his soon with almost pleading eyes. Junior nodded against Yasha's waist and looked up at her. "Sorry mom...I just was so excited to see you up and moving..." He reached up and wiped a small tear from his eye.

Noah gave a small smile at his sons words and smiled when Morgan walked over and got into her mothers lap, reaching over to give her brother a one armed hug while the other wrapped around her mother.

Yasha's words caused a chuckle to come from his lips with a shake of his head. "Well at least we know your mothers sense of humor is intact. Alright you three, hold on and I'll push you down to the kitchen." Getting behind the hoverchair he made sure to grab his comm off the bedside table, sending a quick message off to Asha and Theo before beginning the trek to the kitchen.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Oh.” Yasha blinked a few times, her hands fiddled in her lap. The sister was a single image, an echo or shadow over her bed. Someone who slowly began to take on more of Theo’s scent. “How… how long? How long have I…“

The supposed answer shut her lips. Even the size of the fledgelings in the room gave her mind pause… they hadn’t been so large in memory. Yasha’s chin tilted down, she searched the room for some other sign of time, the size of trees outside their home’s windows. A seasonal shift in the air. Wear in upholstery… ultimately the provocative evidence was lined in Noah Corek ’s eyes and the thin lines around them. In the size of the fledgelings.

As the burst of fear stole across Noah and stung the air from Junior’s rush, the arm twitched and settled. She leaned back in the hoverchair, Morgan on her lap and stared outward. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked how long, maybe it could have been divined and they would calm… her eyes descended to the mops of blonde and red hair of the children. Morgan was nonetheless warm, and even in wool, Yasha refused to admit how cold she felt, as if all the ice in the universe shuddered through her bones. The right arm wound around Junior and pulled him up onto her other thigh, and Yasha nuzzled into them with an embrace far too weak for a memory of their own. Muscles responded like shales of cracked glass, fragile and likely to fail.

“That makes one part of me we no longer require concern about.” She looked over at Noah, a softer smile than the one she wore for the children upon her once pretty face. “Thank you, Noa’ik… I truly am famished.”

Another pause came to her mind as she was hovered down to the family kitchen… fledgelings… younglings… she had younglings… boys. Images of their faces remained as elusive as their names. Boys… Morgan must be her only daughter… was there not another? But there were no other children who could be heard in the house. No essences of body heat.

 

[Noah Corek]

Noah's mouth screwed shut when Yasha asked just how long she'd been...in her previous state. He debated on whether on whether or not to answer before finally deciding that it would be crueler not to let her know. "You've been...incoherent as my sister and her husband say, for about...a year and a half now." He let the information sink in before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But...that doesn't matter anymore because now you can start getting better."

As he pushed her through the halls he made sure to keep the pace slow as to let her take in everything in the surroundings as slowly as possible to let Yasha take in the surroundings and let memories come in as smooth as possible. He smiled down at her when turned to give one to him, leaning down to place a small kiss on her lips. The display of affection between their parents caused a cacophony of noises come from the twins, mostly noises of disgust.

Noah let out a snort at the two before rolling his eyes down at them. "One day you two are going to find someone who you want to do that too as well...or if you are as Manda-blessed as me you'll find two." He grinned and shot a wink down at Yasha as they finally arrived at the kitchen. Pushing Yasha to the rather small dining room table considering the amount of children they had he pushed Morgan and Junior off. "Get off your mother you two, make yourselves useful and set the table eh?"

He stepped into the kitchen and began busying himself, gathering ingredients and all the tools and utensils he'd need to cook. It didn't take him that long to get everything cooked up, a lot of stuff was already pre-made and gathered. Another few minutes and he was finished and began making his way to lay the dishes on the, hopefully, set table. He also grabbed a bottle of tihaar and a pair of glasses for him and Yasha.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“A year... A year you waited...” Her sense of time clicked. Rearranged by pieces as Noah attempted to brush off the revelation. Over a year. An entire cycle and more since she last breathed without the biot. Since the last words which penetrated beyond the fog on Mandalore.

“You look worn... why take care of me all this time? Would it not...” Her voice failed her, chin dipped away as she knew Noah would never accept the pragmatism of the once-Infernal. No, families didn’t abandon... but they did. Noah would not have been the first family to abandon Yasha, but another in the line of distant voices. If not by death’s sting or madness’ folly, Yasha most of all recognized the majority of her battles would be alone.

“What a patient boy to wait this long.” Until Noah Corek and Alexandra Feanor . Sat in the hoverchair, Yasha’s nostrils stung. She buried her face in Morgan’s hair, eyebrows taught as the reality struck: once more Yasha missed even larger portions of her children’s lives. Stolen in hours and weeks by death’s attempt to claim her. Yasha bent to kiss Junior’s hair, then Morgan’s. Images of boys with emerald eyes filtered into her mind, raven headed and tall for their age, when compared with Morgan and Noah Jr. Another image, a girl with curls in her mahogany hair, eyes which pierced like....

... no. Yasha shut her eyes again, attempted to banish the memory of those eyes and whomever the owner was.

The estate passed by with enough time for Yasha to acclimatize, and flimsy fragments of which room belonged to which fledgeling, what guest or study or corridor led to the... the gardens. A living area opened to her, as Noah’s lips found hers and any question on why he waited by her bedside faded. Even met with the grossed out ews of their kids, the kiss gave credence and passion to the time, which clung now as another echoing loss within her.

“Isn’t it a bit early to encourage future romanticism, Noa’ik? Let the children be children as long as they can. The galaxy is a cruel place.” Netherworld or Mandalore, the worlds which made the universe were cold and biting places, where vicious words and even worse intentions destroyed all which could have flourished like a rare Panathan lily. The kids climbed off, Morgan raced round to gather favourite plates and cups, Junior for bowls and utensils. Homestead bustling took much of Yasha’s cognition as she watched the pantomime of family life for the first time in... a shudder steals across my arm.

I never meant to take so long.

“The food smells wonderful, Noa’ik... pour me a strong one?” I bite my lip, lick the cool flesh. “I died. Didn’t I, c’yare? But something kept me from passing through... I am glad. I am glad to wake up. It will take time to make it up to you, Momoe. Junior. All that time waiting... and now us finished waiting for your Dad’s cooking. Gosh, I’ve missed this most of all I think. Aside from... well, you’ll know when you’re older.“

 

[Noah Corek]

He gave Yasha another small smile, somewhat sadder this time and pressed another kiss against her forehead. "Your my riduur Yash'ika, I made a vow to stand by you in sickness and in health, till death do us part. Well...at least that's what the wedding vows Alex made us say but its a good sentiment." Noah was of course referring to the wedding that Alexandra Feanor had all but force Yasha and Noah to hold, much to the chagrin of the two of the two Mandalorians but they went with it to satisfy their beloved.

"Like I said Yash, your my wife. It's my job to care for you no matter what and I'd know you'd do the same thing for me." He waved off her comment about being worn. "No no no. That's just from work and trying to deal with clan politics going on. But don't worry about that, there are times for talking about that and this is not one of them."

He chuckled and shook his head at her words about romanticism. "Yeah you're right darling, the galaxy is a cruel and dark place. But you know what can make it less so? Finding someone you love, just like I did with you and Ale'ika." Another small kiss was pressed to her lips, earning another bout of disgust from the twins.

He poured Yasha a few fingers of the tihaar, smacking Morgan's hand when she tried to grab the glass. When she mentioned her death Noah looked deep into his own glass and swirled it. He was about to speak when a female voice spoke up. "Yup, you were clinically dead for thirty minutes my dear sister-in-law."

Asha Allard-Corek walked, or waddled her brother would've pointed out to tease her, into the dining room, her stomach swollen in the beginning of the third trimester of pregnancy. She saw the tihaar in Yasha's hand and narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Tihaar? Really? In her state? Wow, husband of the year!" Noah rolled his eyes, downing his own glass like only a hardened soldier could before quickly pouring another. "Ash...can we not do this right now?"

His sister was about to reply with a typical snippy remark before seeing the almost pleading look in his eyes, a small smile forming on her lips. "Alright alright, I'll let it slide..."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Riduur...” She spoke the syllables in a wondrous fashion, as if they were a form of magic which made her incapable of being abandoned or left in a heap on a marble floor. “... vow... there is such a vow to refuse to abandon inefficient meat?”

Yasha’s brow contorted, she shook her head and reached for his hand with her left. “Sorry, Noa’ik. My mind is a jumble, I... of course. Of course I would tend you. I knew when I married you, didn’t I? The Clan requires more of you? Noa’ik... how can you spend your time watching me with duties to attend?”

She tucked into the kiss, pulled up enough to lengthen it. Smiled at the twins’ reactions. “Yes, the Galaxy is better for being loved.”

Noah swirled his glass, Yasha sat quiet and sipped hers, the inebriant flowed down her throat and into her stomach with a wonderful warmth. Death whispered from beyond its’ reach, gone now, but coiled in their shadows. She downed the glass as another’s voice spoke to the din.

Amber eyes narrowed at the appearance of the ones who smelled different to Noah and the fledgelings. The flesh of the vong biot again shifted to scales of dark green. Theo yanked himself in front of his wife, a hand on Asha’s arm. His eyes never left the right shoulder, the way the cold shoulder sweater showed the joint.

“Ash... wait.” Memories of his own flooded Dr. Theo Allard. Three months into Yasha’s injuries, and he only closed his eyes for a second... just a second and the biot nearly killed little Viggo. He still saw it clench around his throat, the milk yellow eye opening in Yasha’s shoulder as Noah Corek held it back. Spoke to soothe the beast and the frightened woman it protected. Asha was there by the end of the day, an end to his solitary medical support, and the loneliness of an arueti in the Mandalorian world.

“I have no memory of her.” Yasha’s voice was grave as she stared at Asha from belly to eye. Theo’s breathing quickened as he watched the biot’s fingers stretch on the table, act out of instinct to protect its’ charge. “Who is she to control my desires?”

“My wife is the one who kept you alive.” Theo grimaced, eyes only leaving the biot to plead at Noah to help break the ramped tension. “You owe her.”

 

[Noah Corek]

He smiled as she repeated the Mando'a word for spouse. "Yup, you are my riduur so its my job to take care of you. Even in death your not gonna be able to get rid of my that easily ner cyar'ika. So you'll have to just deal with it." He gave her a little grin and wink to reinforce his joking demeanor.

He smiled and reached for her flesh hand when she confirmed his thought that she would do the same for him, bringing her knuckles up to his lips and pressing a small kiss against them. He waved his hand to dismiss her notion of the clan needing him "My clan has survived decades without me being personally involved in its running, they can wait a little longer while I deal with more important matters."

Noah's hand stayed on Yasha's when Asha and Theo entered the room, his eyes seeing the biot react and he quickly moved to not only put himself between his pregnant sister and his wife but also to soothe Yasha, the look sent his way by Theo not lost on him. "Yasha this is Asha, my sister? Remember her? She treated you when we visited my clans land on Mandalore. And the man who's lucky I haven't broken his legs for impregnating my sister is Theo, your personal physician. They're doctors, your doctors, and they are here to help you. Asha is also pregnant with our niece."

"Yeah you remember me right? We met at the clan's clinic and I told your stories about me and Noah's youth...which my brother led me to believe you later used to tease the hell out of 'em. Honestly it was at that point that I knew I was gonna like you." She smiled at the sight of the family in the dining room.

Being smart and able to read the room somewhat Junior stood from his chair and quickly made his way over to Asha, throwing his arms around her waist and smiling up at her. "Hey Auntie Ash, Uncle Theo...how's little Ziphira doing?"

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“They can wait, then. I need you more than they ever will.” She laughed softly, smiling deep as he kissed her fingers. If only the sensations remained.

“You cause pain.” The milk-yellow eyestalk in the right shoulder flickered at the woman, who smelled similar but distant from Noah Corek and the fledgelings. There could be no memories of Asha in the days when Mand’alor the Infernal required medical aide and Noah took her to see his family for the first time. Unattached, uncreated in those years prior to Orinda. The rest of Yasha’s life was a fog untouched, something elusive and untainted by the Vong bio-tech which rejuvenated and salvaged the would-be dead. “You both create pain.”

“Ash…” Theo growled, shoved Asha and Junior behind him as Yasha’s head tweaked to the side. She stared at Noah’s hand on hers, the way he shifted to protect the people behind him. “… doctors cause pain to heal the body. We have to, or you’d die… and I know you. You don’t want to die.”

To a Vong, pain was holy. The ways of pain and agony were the paths to purification and worshipful life. Perhaps that alone was why the biot became such a fierce defender of Yasha, a woman whose life caused her infinite pain. Ache behind Yasha’s eyes faded as Junior hugged his Aunt, the fledgeling protecting through an absence of fear. Yasha shook her head from side to side, eyelids flickered closed as her tattooed lips worked.

“More tihaar… let me think. I don’t… everything is so muddled. It… shadows and flickers. You cause pain. You are a doctor, and a creche-mate… sister… one of the ones who refuse to abandon.” Since Mandalore, Asha smelled different. She took on the scent of herself and Theo, and now, their child. If scent was the precursor to memory, Asha’s scent was so different since those days on Mandalore, Yasha’s repairing mind could not make the connections. Yet. Flesh shifted from scaled green plate to the green and olive tinge of the biot at relative rest, finger spears no longer poised in her potentially violent throes. “Do you also require sustenance? Noah’s cooking is too good to eat elsewhere. You should eat. Weak young are…”

Unworthy? Hazards to be tossed? No, Yasha shook her head again, taking a deep breath from her bellow-like lungs and leaning back in her chair. She scooped Morgan up from her seat and cuddled the girl to her chest, reconnecting with the emphatic knowledge in her head that regardless of ability, one’s young were precious and beloved.

Not to be abandoned. “Perhaps the fog is still a bit thick.”

 

[Noah Corek]

He let out a small chuckle and kissed her knuckles again. "Well I can also rationalize it because you marrying me your a member of my clan...and if they don't like that then fuck em, your my wife and I'm not leaving your side until I'm sure your better."

His hairs stood on edge as he observed the scene unfolding, to say he was tense was a understatement. When Yasha spoke again Noah let out a small breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding. Letting out a chuckle he leaned over and pressed yet another kiss against Yasha's cheek. Smiling at her request for more tihaar he picked up the bottle and shook it, showing it was empty.

"I'll admit I've been hitting the bottle a little lately...Buuuuuut I've got a bottle Wyvern's Reserve whiskey...cost me a pretty credit and I've been saving it for a special occasion and what better time? Asha, Theo, help yourself to the food." Pushing his chair back he pressed another kiss against Yasha's cheek, a newly growing habit it seemed.

Asha leaned down and kissed her nephew on the forehead before ushering him back to the table. "Thanks for the invitation sis. Come on darling I'm hungry and since that's your fault you'll be feeding me." Asha grinned up at her husband, knowing just how'd he respond to her teasing.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“I am Clan Corek...” Yasha seemed to chew on the words, puzzle inside the disparate Clan names in her mind. Corek, Cadera, Raxis... names of belonging, which tied her to a life and religion beyond the Domain of Agony. “You deny others so I might have you... might live beside you... then how are we of Clan Corek if we are not in communion with them?”

Words flowed between siblings, several Noah directed to her she assumed a connotation which worked well enough for her. As for the mercies of alcohol, Yasha dipped her chin down at the kiss. A special bottle indeed. Her left hand came up and pulled untidy raven hair behind her ear, enough growth now to tuck the once luxuriant locks behind the ear’s crest without spilling into her eyes. Yet again the wealth of time Noah and Alex waited, the breadth of her injuries sat ill upon Yasha’s once proud shoulders. How much longer did it seem for the children?

Dash if she could remember more than two, but saw none except the twins...

The Asha spoke, and ignorant eyes peered up to search her face. None of the words made sense, and as Yasha saw Asha dip down to kiss Junior, her arm jolted as if the kiss itself were a form of attack. But no attack came. Junior was safe, there was no threat from the one who smelled similar but impossible to understand in the scents of the past. Morgan eyed her mother, gaze flickering back and forth as Asha took a seat at the table.

“It’s Mando’a, Mom...” Morgan spoke in Epicant. “ ... Auntie Asha is speaking Mando’a... And then Basic to Uncle Theo.”

“Yes, Princess, I’ll get your food... but I do remember you joining in, when what did you say? I did this to you?” Theo chuckled heartily for his wife’s joke, leaning down to take her chin and kiss her as he led her to a chair far from Yasha’s at the family table. Halfway to scooping meat onto two plates, he stopped and swerved round. “What? Does Yasha not underst-“

His voice cut off abruptly, now was not the time to theorize on what he felt in his bones. Dishing out two plates, he took them to the table and wedged himself between Asha and the Biot, an arm around Asha’s shoulders. His eyes never left Yasha’s right shoulder, and he gritted his teeth against the dawning recognitions there.

“How long has she been up, Noah?”

Noah Corek Alexandra Feanor

 

[Noah Corek]

Yasha Cadera ​

He smiled at her words, yet another kiss pressed against her forehead. "Indeed you are my darling, you are of Clan Corek." When she asked about the 'communion' of themselves and Clan Corek, he let out a small chuckle and shook his head. "We've gained enough respect from my clan that they have no choice but to leave us alone when we want them to. Besides if it is truly important they know where we live."

It didn't take long for Noah to find the bottle as it was exactly where he had stored it away, secure from both himself and others. Returning to the table he deftly unsealed the bottle, pulling the wax seal off and popping the top of it. He quickly poured another drink for himself and Yasha, having to slap Morgan's hand when she reached for her mothers. "Your not thirteen YET young lady, a few more months and THEN we'll toast to you and your brother."

At the other end of the table Asha smiled as her husband titled her chin into a kiss, pressing her own lips against his with a grin on them. "Mmm yes you are correct my Prince buuuuuut perhaps you'd rather satiate your wife rather than argue?" Her grin only grew wider at the deliberate teasing of her husband. She pressed another kiss against his lips as a thank you for the food. "Why thank you Theo, you get to sleep in the bed tonight."

A somewhat stifled laugh came from the other end of the table as Noah swallowed a piece of meat. "Well she's got you by the balls doesn't she ner vod? Eh don't feel bad, every man has battles he has to fight in marriage...though we do end up losing most of them."

Upon the question of how long Yasha had been up Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch, a gift that had been given to him by Alex on their tenth anniversary and which had his, Alex's and Yasha's initials inscribed on it. Flicking the watch open he checked the time before glancing over at Theo. "Well...can't give you an exact amount but I'd say between an hour and a hour and a half at this point...why?"

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Respect ensures I am sequestered away from their demands? As are you?” In the furrows of her brow, Yasha bore the confusion of one who seemed surrounded by Clans without a single one as her own. Clan Mantis, that which her dar’buir buried, Clan Raxis of her adopted father Grey Raxis, Clan Cadera, which fragmented in times into two groups. Clan Corek now, a wealth of Mandalorian redeemers to tend the broken bits of a woman confined to hovering above the floor. She took hold of the whiskey and slid it away from Morgan with a tempestuous growl.

“Any prepubescent child in my house is not imbibing in toxins of any kind. Toxins make fledgelings weak. Drink a single drop and I will cut out your stomach and have the physician graft you a new one while you writhe in glorifying, righteous pain.” Yasha’s right index finger dragged across the table, drawing a thin line in the veneer of the wood. Morgan’s eyes grew wider, she sunk back and looked between her parents as if attempting to decide if it were a sort of joke. “Toxins make children weak. Weak children are a liability. You will not be a liability. You will not consume. And you will not feed the children such things until their bodies are concluded in their growth.”

Yasha sipped down a gulp of her beverage. Dim amber eyes searched the space between Asha and Theo, watching their banter. Her head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed. “Is she attacking Theodor’s character? Does he require our assistance to protect him? Noah, I do not like the way she utilizes her family bed to demean him. Did you not say married couples depend upon each other? I do not understand.”

Theo’s eyebrow raised, he fought the urge to take notes on the datapad in his pocket, but kept his arm around Asha’s shoulders just to make sure she was okay.

“Who is arguing with Noah’s food on the line? I think we both know where I’ll be, Princess.” Theo said, watching Yasha’s right shoulder roll as Theo hissed away from another kiss from his wife’s lips to ensure all was well.

“Wake up, Yash… Has she been like this the whole time?” Theo’s eyelids narrowed as he stared at the woman he’d known. He smiled and stroked Asha’s cheek.

Noah Corek