Private Way That I'm Going

[Makai Dashiell]

BUSINESS PARK OF DUBRILLION

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell , Phoebe Dashiell [NPC]

Immediately following the events of Explosive Investment.​

The ship sailed through the bright, tranquil atmosphere of Dubrillion, cutting through the sunshine and puffy clouds on approach to the landing pad. The trip had been a little longer than expected, given the current state of the hyperlanes, but they had finally made it thanks to expert flying by Thirty-Seven.

Setting down, they had come to collect Ellie from the temperate planet and reconnect as a family. Makai had survived his first big solo trip with Phoebe and while the girl stayed with her nanny biot for some of the trip, he was still proud he navigated his way around the ‘verse with a demanding toddler who thrived on schedule. A demanding toddler who was excited to see her mother once again, who hadn’t stopped talking the entire trip from Farstine to Dubrillion.

Lucky for them, Thirty-Seven had set down on the business complex landing site, which meant it was only a short walk to the offices of Mara TibX. Phoebe in his arms, he walked through the brilliant white space, listening to his daughter.

“Mama live here now?” A small pause, brow furrowing.

“No.” Makai laughed as they entered a turbolift. “Feels like it I bet. She’s been stuck here a long time. These are offices for Mara TibX.”

“Mara Tibbits?Who that?”

“Mara TibX is a company under Mimi’s company. Mama is in charge of Mara Tibx, they do all sorts of stuff like fuels, gasses, minerals. Very important, so people can power their homes and vehicles and starships.”

The turbolift came to a halt on an upper floor, letting them step out into the lobby. It was just as gleaming and modern the public spaces below, the windows overlooking the tropical landscape, the ocean far in the distance.

“Mister Dashiell. Miss Dashiell. Welcome to the offices on Dubrillion.” A secretary behind a large, exotic wood reception desk greeted them. “I am unsure if she is free at the moment. Let me check.”

Taking Phoebe to the large window, Makai assumed El-Three would have already alerted his wife, if the droid was with her. Both of their droid assistants had been pulling a great deal of weight considering the crisis that was tossing them in multiple directions.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra caught the reflection of Makai and Pheobe before she saw them.

She turned from the conference room's floor-to-ceiling windows, her hand still holding the edge of her datapad, a dozen alerts buzzing silently on the screen. But none of that mattered right now.

Phoebe's voice carried down the polished corridor before they even reached the threshold, the bubbly sound of her questioning tone, "Mara Tibbits?", bringing the first real smile to Myra's face in days.

The doors slid open just as the secretary looked up, about to respond, when Myra stepped out of the lift. Her dark curls pinned back in a sleek coil, the lines of her deep teal dress perfectly professional, though her eyes softened the moment they landed on the pair across the lobby.

"Well now, look who's here," she said with a warmth that wasn't rehearsed.

Phoebe squealed, all but launching from Makai's arms into hers. Myra caught her with practiced grace, heart clenching as the small arms wrapped around her neck.

"I missed you too, starlight," she murmured into her daughter's curls, giving Makai a grateful glance over Phoebe's shoulder. "You both made it in one piece?"

She didn't say the rest aloud but Makai knew what she meant. The weight of balancing empire and family, and now with the galaxy been cast up and sideways with the steller convergence, of being apart when the galaxy already felt too uncertain. Her fingers curled around Phoebe's back just a little tighter. Dubrillion sunlight poured in behind her. For a moment, it felt like peace.

"Give me five minutes to finish up in my office," she told him , "and then I'm yours for the rest of the day." A small pause. "Or at least until the next fire starts."

Things were not going so well with Mara Tibx, much less the rest of the Arceneau Trade conglomorate. In being a galactic and intergalactic conglmorate, they had redundancies in place for having issues with trade, supply, and staffing if it only affected a few sectors at a time. But when it affected the entire galaxy and exo galaxies on top of that, the stabilization of the market, the unpredictability of the hyperlanes, well it made everything worse.

"Mama said she's been in meetings with Spacer guilds, freelancers, and the Navigator's guilds across the galaxy trying to find ways of recharting and checking which lanes are secure and what needs to be redone."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell , Phoebe Dashiell

His gaze softened the minute she entered the room, Phoebe flinging herself at her mother, clinging tight. Ellie was absolutely stunning, yet behind the polished exterior he could see the exhaustion creeping in. The weight of managing the crisis as well as being away from their daughter. Letting Phoebe have her moment, Makai finally stepped closer, hand resting on Ellie’s hip as he kissed her once. Chaste and not the greeting he had wished to give, but considering they were in the lobby of a Mara TibX building, the most prudent choice.

“Made it all in one piece. Nothing to worry about, Thirty-Seven charted our course.”

There was more to speak upon, but not now. It wasn’t the time or place, especially when she was trying to finish in order to spend some time together as a family. Much of their schedule currently reminded him when they were dating, only now balancing raising two girls on top of trying to spend time as a couple.

“Five minutes works. I’ve got a few ideas on what we could do, maybe wander around the a-q-u-a-r-i-u-m.” Makai spelt out the word, their daughter easily latched onto things as any toddler did. The Dubrillion Aquarium was famous, and it was something to occupy Phoebe. However, reading between the lines, it seemed his wife would be staying on Dubrillion and not coming home. "Gives us a chance to talk too."

With Phoebe firmly attached to Ellie, Makai knew there was no getting his daughter back. Her little face was still buried into Ellie's neck, content to now be held by her. With talk to space lanes and the stress Danger was under, Makai knew it was going to be a topic of discussion once they were together. One of the reasons Ellie was so busy. Instead he just flashed a boyish smile, ready to leave the offices behind for a few hours already.

"I'll sit out here and let you Arceneau women give 'em hell."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra leaned into the kiss, her eyes flicking up to meet Makai's with a flash of emotion that didn't need words. She was tired. Bastati, was she tired, but seeing him here, seeing Phoebe in his arms, and feeling the familiar, grounding touch at her hip eased a tightness she hadn't realized had taken root in her chest.

"I figured if anyone could survive navigating a toddler and hyperlane reroutes, it'd be you," she said with a quiet smile, brushing her hand along Phoebe's back, the toddler's curls tickling her collarbone as she nestled close. "Though I suspect Thirty-Seven deserves hazard pay."

At the mention of the aquarium, Myra arched a brow, catching the spell-out with a flicker of amusement.

"She's going to start reading sooner than we expect," she murmured, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "And I'm sure the minute she hears the word out loud, there's no going back."

Her expression softened again at his final remark, a faint glint in her grey eyes as she adjusted Phoebe more securely in her arms.

"That's the plan," she said lightly, though the weight behind her voice was anything but.

The crisis in the Hapan Cluster, the refugees, Danger's mounting pressures -- there was too much simmering beneath the surface, and Dubrillion had become her makeshift command post to manage it all.

She started to turn back toward the conference room, but paused, casting a glance over her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said softly, eyes meeting his. "For bringing her. For giving me this."

They were trying to make it work. Juggling family and work. All those responsibilities. Made Myra all the more aware of what her own mama and what Makai's pa, Judah had to do.

"How's Judah?" She asked, walking over towards her office with the pair in tow.

"Salvaging might have a better result but I know he depends on the hyperlanes to transport it all and the refined goods."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell , Phoebe Dashiell


Makai chuckled at her assessment of being able to navigate a shaky hyperlane system with a toddler in tow. It hadn’t been all terrible. A lot of triple checking. A lot of bribing with Tuskie the Tusken and My Little Ropo. A lot of extra bedtime stories with extra silly voices. Having the nanny biot and Thirty-Seven had certainly helped.

“She definitely has her mother’s smarts. If we don’t do the one thing, how about the b-e-a-c-h. You can lounge and relax and watch us. I can wear my short-shorts. Phoebe will be less overstimulated. Thirty-Seven can get us some good snacks.Seems like a win.”

Still nuzzled against her mother's neck, a small voice piped up "Snacks?" before looking around, clinging tight while she did so.

They typically spent days at home building sandcastles and Phoebe was content to help. The aquarium was one thing but with Phoebe already excited to be back with Ellie, Makai could foresee disaster from an overly stimulated and overly excited toddler. Considering he wasn’t sure how much time they had, maximizing togetherness as a young family was his first priority.

“Not entirely out of the goodness of my heart. I missed you. We missed you.” Ellie was leading them to her office, which he was surprised about. He expected to stay in the lobby to wait. “It was a very selfish decision.”

A small smile touched his faced as she asked about his father first. Naturally.

“Dad is fine. Busy like all of us. Salvage is fine, he’s been focused on the Relief Fund, its really put those who were already in a bind in a worse off spot.I don’t have to tell you at all. He’s been doing a lot more political outreach. I’ll catch you up later.”

Entering her office, Makai took a seat on the other side of the desk, sinking into the leather. He wanted to ask about Danger but he had a singular mission ; get out and spend time together. There would be plenty of time to ask once she was more free.

“I can hold her if you want while you finish.” Quite the velcro child, Makai knew their daughter wouldn’t be content to explore the confines of the space. “Although I’ve gone to distant second now.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra eased Phoebe higher on her hip as they entered the office, the little girl clinging with all the strength of a starship-grade gravity clamp. At the mention of snacks, she felt the small body squirm with renewed interest, a tiny face peeking out from her curls to look around the room as if snacks might appear from thin air.

"Well, now that you've said the magic word, I think it's clear what the priority is," Myra murmured, her voice rich with warmth as she settled Phoebe onto the small cushioned nook beside her desk.

"But you might have to promise those short-shorts to make it a fair trade."

She gave Makai a sidelong look, brow arched, but her smile lingered, softer now. It was the kind of smile one only gave to someone who had come through for them without needing to be asked.

"I missed you both terribly too."

She turned to her console, fingers moving through holo-displays with the ease of someone who had been doing this far too long. Only one more briefing to approve. One more round of dispatch orders to confirm. She could feel Makai's gaze on her, steady and grounding. And bastati, had she needed that.

"Well, I'm glad that things are going okay with your pa." Although the mention of political outreach perked Myra's brows.

"POlitical outreach? Your father?" the look exchanged gave some indication that she was quite surprised. Judah well... it didn't need to be said when it came to how he interacted with others if it wasn't business.

Then a smile at the offer for her to hold Phoebe while she finished. She handed over the toddler who was happy to try out her flying skills into her father's arms.

"Here you go." she told him, moving to sit at her desk.

"Just give me a quick minute. Then I want that beach. Snacks. Sand between my toes. And you making good on the short-shorts threat." Her eyes flicked up with mischief.

"Phoebe and I will be watching."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell , Phoebe Dashiell

“Beach!”

Phoebe called out as she dived into his arms, instantly excited. Makai wasn't sure how much of Galan heritage actually was passed down to his daughter. Enough for her in utero time to demand Ellie be near the ocean. Her swimming skills were excellent for her age, so he was confident at least a sliver was there.

“I think we will need a few things for the beach”

“Snacks for Phoebe?”

“Yes, like snacks for Phoebe.”

Fishing out his data pad, Makai immediately reached out to Thirty-Seven to have the droid start assembling supplies. They weren't at home so it was starting from scratch. All worth it even if it was just for a few hours.

Thirty-Seven had come through for them, renting two chairs and an umbrella on a quieter portion of the beach. Snacks abounded, relaxing was fully underway, and they had decided to take a more low-key approach. Lia, the nanny biot, remained aboard the ship while Thirty-Seven stayed with them. The droid was key in keeping them updated if any emergency happened, not to mention he was well-versed in security protocol to help keep Phoebe safe.

Dressed in the most outrageous swim shorts he could find and a mirrored pair of sunglasses, Makai was walking back to their little spot on the beach, a small bucket of seashells in hand. Amused look was written all over his face as he approached, both Ellie and Phoebe stretched on their respective lounge chairs, lazily eating snacks.

“I’ve got your shells little Sunshine, think you can properly decorate your sandcastle now?”

“Yeah!” Phoebe scrambled off the lounger with her little bowl of fruit as he set down the little bucket of shells next to a three-tower sandcastle just behind their chairs. “Thank you.”

Makai affectionately ruffled his daughters curly hair as she held up a shell to show Thirty-Seven, carefully placing it at the bottom of the sand structure. He could hear her little excited voice as he moved away, content to speak to the droid for now. It wouldn’t be long before she came back to the both of them despite being only feet away.

After going on a seashell finding mission, he was ready to relax for at least ten minutes. Snagging a cold ale from the cooler, he used an old fraternity trick to pop the top off, catching his wife out of the corner of his eye. Watching him.

“Missus Dashiell.” Voice was low as he leaned over her,not wanting his words to carry. “If you keep looking at me like that you're going to be on maternity leave in ten months time.”

There was a boyish wink before he sat down on the lounger opposite her, smirk still on his face as he took a sip of his drink, clearly pleased with himself.

“Enjoying yourself so far?”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra didn't look up right away; she simply lifted her sunglasses with one perfectly arched brow, eyes trailing over the offensive amount of leg and patches of blue scales her husband was parading around in those scandalous swim shorts.

Stars, was that actual embroidery? And glitter? She gave a soft huff through her nose that could've been mistaken for a laugh if one wasn't listening closely.

"Indeed, if you keep winking at me like that, Mister Dashiell," she murmured, voice low and dipped in mischief, "you might just end up with Cerean twins. I'm not sure that swimwear is built for that kind of responsibility."

With a deliberate slowness, she leaned back into the lounger, lifting her chin toward the sun and adjusting her hat with a practiced flick of her wrist. Phoebe's delighted chattering made her smile, small and real and hard won. A moment of peace in a galaxy that never seemed to rest.

"I am enjoying myself," she said softly, shifting just enough to look at him again from behind her tinted lenses. "And I know how rare this will be, especially now."

She let the ocean breeze thread through her fingers, then tilted her head toward him, lips quirking again.

"So, how are things going with Balun and his son? He still sulking about his promotion to Professional Persie Sitter, or has he come around to the idea of honorary big brother and a father?"

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell , Phoebe Dashiell

"Back to back children? You want to take the jump from one to three awful quickly." Another sip of his ale, as if to ponder the situation. His wife was implying a future of a four year old, one year old or there abouts, and a newborn. Add in the chaos of Persephone and it was looking like a full house. "Contrary to what your poor eyesight tells you, these awesome coral-printed swim shorts just scream father of three under four-ish. Wearing these, no one questions why my wife couldn't keep her hands to herself."

Makai tossed a boyish grin in her direction, trying not to laugh at her dramatics of leaning back on the lounger and adjusting her hat. He knew her game all too well, and exactly what she was doing. His wife always claimed she wasn't a temptress but that was all just a lie.

"Great, so I'll cancel my stim appointment...I've got what another....month and half left? Just after our wedding anniversary. We can leave Pheebs with one of the grandparents and enjoy a trip."

If Ellie was joking, it sailed over his head. Being a father was beyond his wildest imagination, something he only dreamed of years ago. A lot of work and sacrifice, but Makai wouldn't trade it for anything. Phoebe was, in essence, the perfect little combination of the both of them. Watching her figure out the universe and discover things for the first time made it all worthwhile.

Yet with her next words, he managed to look exasperated.

"We've been apart and you want to talk about my brother." Blank expression turned to look at Ellie, on the verge of shaking his head in disappointment. "Well, since becoming a single father I haven't asked him to watch Persie, which is why we got Zee....As for the idea of being a father, he has no choice. Should have thought about that before he dove in. He seems like an involved one, still doing a little too much Jedi heroism in my opinion, considering the situation."

Ellie would know what he meant. Kellan was going to reply on Balun much as he relied on his own father ages ago. There was a point when one had to evaluate the risks being the only parent in a child's life.

"He's too much like Dad. Makes me wonder if I'm even biologically related to them."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra's laugh was low and warm as she tilted her head just enough to peek over her sunglasses, grey eyes glinting like twin stars. She gave Makai a slow, appraising look, then sipped from her iced drink as if weighing a very serious decision.

"Back to back children?" she echoed, one brow rising in faux deliberation.

"Wel-l-l… I do make very cute babies. And you're not half-bad yourself, Makai Dashiell."

She stretched out a little more in her lounge chair, the edge of her sarong fluttering in the ocean breeze, and offered a sly smile.

"Truth is, I wouldn't mind a whole little fleet of them someday. A brood. A tiny army of clever, curlyhaired, snack demanding pirates who all know how to get their way with a pout and a well placed 'please.'" She turned her head slightly, watching Phoebe as she chatted with Thirty-Seven about the architectural merits of her sandcastle.

"Especially if they're anything like her."

Then, eyes back on her husband, her voice dipped into something softer.

"I used to think I wasn't cut out for all this. The family, the mess, the endless snack negotiations. But... I don't know. There's something nice about building more than just businesses and infrastructure, you know?"

At his mock affront at talking about his brother, Myra gave a roll of her eyes, "Just catching up...and well, if anything, considering how quickly Phoebe came to be... I'm sure that Dashiell virility does mean you are related."

Her smirk returned and her grey eyes danced -- flirty, wicked.

"Of course, if you keep strutting around in those coral swim trunks, you're going to accidentally make that a reality. I'm amazed you're keeping any dignity at all, by the way." Her lips pursed in a half mock angry pout remembering the old biddies that had been ogling him a few years ago during their first official boat date.

None the less, she raised her glass in mock salute.

"To the future father of three under four and the undisputed king of Dubrillion beach fashion."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

BEACH

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell

“Adorable babies,even though you seem to get deathly ill doing so.”

Makai turned his head with Ellie, looking at their daughter happily playing in the sandcastle they had created. The toddler was sticking the seashells he had brought over carefully on the structure. At that moment she looked up, little brows furrowing, looking like an imitation of her mother.

“No Papa.” Hand came up to point at the other chair. “Mama can only look.”

Demanding snack pirate indeed.

The half-Galan just smiled and chuckled, focusing back on his wife as she turned to look at him as well. Voice dropped, revealing she wasn’t always sure about being cut out for family life. Brows raised in surprise at the revelation, especially considering some of their conversations while dating.

“Seriously?” This he hadn’t heard before. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? We talked about having kids, never did you say you didn’t think you weren’t cut out. I thought you were all in….then again my master plan was to wait three years into marriage to have any…”

Another peek back at Phoebe, happily chatting with Thirty-Seven about her seashell placement.

“I knew when we had all that chaos on Centrality that I was ready…Persephone, Rue…tossing Danger and Dad into the mix. We were crazy for doing it but I had fun...I knew then you would be a fine Ma to our children as well. I was right too. Phoebe is lucky to have you. You've done an amazing job since the moment we found out about her."

Rolling his eyes at her comments on his brother and her mock pout, he leaned over and quickly kissed her cheek. Relaxing back on his lounger, a boyish grin overtook his features.

“This time won’t be an accident. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Iced blue gaze turned to meet her gray. “You almost sound as if you’re agreeing to this Missus Dashiell. Better have your hyperlanes situated because I’m about to make it your reality.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra arched a brow, her lips twitching as she tried very hard to pretend she wasn't affected by that look he gave her. His words were all wrapped up in little boy charm and quiet affection, but that glint in his eye... well now, that was enough to make her reconsider how much time she truly needed between babies.

"Deathly ill, hmm?" she echoed, tilting her head.

"Well... I wouldn't say it was that bad..." Well, at the time, she had to stay indoors, and it wasn't until they moved to Joiol that she finally managed to get a small reprieve.

Her fingers found the edge of her lounge chair, one leg lazily crossed over the other as she leaned just far enough to rest her elbow near his.

"And yet, despite the nausea and swollen ankles and absolutely confounding cravings," she murmured, her voice a little lower, "I wouldn't trade it for anything."

She watched Phoebe tap her castle with the seriousness of a galactic senator negotiating peace. The girl glanced up again to make sure her mother hadn't dared to move from her designated chair.

"No, Papa," Myra parroted gently, the amusement in her tone unmistakable. "Mama can only look."

Turning back to Makai, she allowed the warmth of his compliment to linger between them a moment longer before ruining it with a grin.

"You're sweet when you flatter me, you know that?" Her hand reached over to steal a kiss on his lips. "And you aren't too bad yourself in the pa department."

"I'll admit -- " she handed it back with a wink, " -- the idea of another doesn't terrify me. Might even be kind of nice... if they look like you and paint like me."

She adjusted her sunhat and settled deeper into the lounger, adding just loud enough for him to hear, "But if you want a second, Mister Dashiell, you'd best start praying your hyperlanes stay clear. Because I wasn't joking about Cerean twins if you keep winking at me like that."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell

"Wasn't that bad?!" Voice raised an octave in surprise, remembering the days of her pregnancy before they moved to Joiol. "You could barely keep down weak tea and dry toast. You all but lived in our bedroom and bathroom." A small pause. "We must remember it differently...but things worked out. Next time I think staying on Joiol would make things better. Has to be Galan genetics."

Those days had been rough. It didn't help he was a very nervous newlywed and new father-to-be. Everything was unknown and new. Most days he oscillated between feeling helpless and struggling to stay above water with new challenges tossed his way. It was learning by fire while also remaining a pillar for Ellie.

"Hmm...I've been looking since we got here." Gaze drifted to her décolleté as if to emphasize his point. A teasing boyish grin, knowing Ellie was rolling her eyes underneath those dark sunglasses. "I mean, Phoebe looks like me...she looks all Dashiell. She's definitely not a painter though...sounds like your genes didn't even try. I'm not sure how to make your demand a reality. I read so many mining manuals and reports to Phoebe while she was in utero and nothing happened. I can't exactly put a paintbrush in his or her hand in the womb."

Makai chuckled at the mental picture. As their family expanded, it would be interesting to see who gravitated towards what. To see if Ellie got her wish of a little art genius in the home. Persephone so far was the closest, having taken a keen interest in the arts over the last few years.

"My hyperlanes are clear. I am a mere man of the earth. Those I contract with - Arceneau Trade, for example - it falls upon them to be ready."

Makai gently took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. A grounding habit. They had been holding hands since a tender age and it had become habit. First not to lose her, now for quiet connection.

"Something tells me you aren't able to come home with us..." Hyperlanes didn't wait. Business came first. "However...our anniversary is on the horizon. Maybe we should meet up for some alone time." Makai dropped his voice, a teasing lit to it. "These Cerean twins won't appear on their own."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra turned toward him slowly with a soft smile on her lips, he teasing slipping into something more gentle. She kept her sunglasses on, but he'd know that look anywhere. The one that said -- I see you. I hear you.

"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet beneath the rustle of the waves. "For all of it. For holding steady when I couldn't. For remembering even when I pretended it wasn't so bad." her thumb brushed the back of his hand, giving a little trace where they were laced with hers with his reassuring grip.

"And I know it was hard… those early days, everything new and terrifying. But you didn't let me go under, even when I wasn't always the easiest to hold on to." she gave a small rueful laugh, "I might've been drowning in hormones and your delicious risotto, but I still saw it. The way you kept showing up."

She sat up again in her chair, taking on that dry wit he loved "As for Phoebe not inheriting my artistry, well, she did get your stubbornness. And that intense little brow furrow? All mine."

Then she squeezed his hand.

"But I wouldn't mind trying again. Just maybe with less nausea and a little more planning this time."

She gave a pause before amusement flickered back in.

"And who knows? Maybe the next one'll be yours and mine... a stubborn little artist who insists on painting the ship's walls and rewriting the hyperlane charts in finger paint. Sounds about right, doesn't it?"

But at his last words 'you aren't able to come home with us', the humor softened behind her shades. A pause lingered before she leaned squeezed his hand again. That was the hard bit.

"No. Not yet." It was an honest observation. There was still so much to do, considering the ramifications of the Steller convergence.

"But maybe making some more contracts with hyperlane charters will do the trick."

Then she shined him another soft but encouraging smile, brushing her fingers across his wrist as if to lighten the moment.

"But...if you plan our anniversary right, with some candles and a bottle of Blossom Wine from home... who knows?" Her gray eyes glinted with mischief as she added, "I might just bring your little artist into the world after all. Fair warning though, she'll probably paint your office wall before she learns to walk."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell

"There is absolutely no need to thank me."

A belief he was firm in. Makai knew what he was signing up for when he got into a relationship, when he had gotten married. There were always going to be times where one had to carry the other. Something he had been more than willing to do as his other half was busy growing and expanding their family.

"Technically....this is way more planning than we did for Phoebe." Amusement crept back into his voice. Their first was quite the accident, and while there had been nebulous ideas of future children, neither had anticipated raising a child immediately. "Since we're actually planning this time...nausea prevention right from the start. I'm sure there are options."

Makai chuckled and shook his head at the mention of fingerpainting everywhere.

"No, we have an art studio for good reason." As he said that, the half-Galan knew full well he was the type of father to cut the drywall, save the art, and then do the repairs. "Having daughters is going to give me gray hair sooner than I expected..."

Hand gave hers a little squeeze. Arceneau Trade came first, both had known that going into their relationship. They had been lucky Danger was young enough and had the desire to still spearhead much of the work. Same for himself. Yet there were always times of crisis where one had to dig deep and put in the overtime. All hands on deck.

Even Persephone's summer internship would be partially mapping a new hyperlane.

"Candles. Wine. I can do that." All too easy. "A preference on location? Tropical getaway? Historical city? Maybe some kind of event going on? Maybe we can go sailing?" Makai grinned at her, knowing sailing was off the table. "Or do we do a few quiet nights on Joiol with Phoebe off to hang with a grandparent?"

In the weeks she was gone, it would be easy enough to make her desires a reality.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

“Having a better plan next time around would be great. At least we don’t have to find a new place to live since Joioi worked out so well.”

A pause and then Myra turned to Makai.

"And lucky for you…" she added, glancing sideways at him, voice dropping into something warmer, more intimate, "…I like playing house."

Then, with the flick of her fingers, she redirected the topic like a true professional, gaze turning thoughtful before it danced with mischief again.

"Now...anniversary. I think it's the perfect excuse to let Phoebe and Persie go get spoiled by their grandparents. Your dad and mama can fight it out for who gets first dibs. And us?" She leaned a little closer, her words laced with suggestion.

"We get to focus on us."

A beat.

"I need it. You need it. And I miss you -- us, without snack negotiations or surprise diaper battles. Let's disappear for a bit. Just you and me." Her smile widened, flirty and knowing.

"Though maybe this time, you don't forget your stim… unless, of course, you meant to."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

CINNABAR MOON RETREAT

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell

​

Cinnabar Moon Retreat | Geothermal Spring Baths


With a few weeks to research at his disposal, Makai had found the perfect place to celebrate their anniversary. Cinnabar Moon Retreat was a once abandoned spa, brought back to life and its former glory. Mud baths. Massages. Various excursions on planet. The biggest draw for him? Geothermal spring baths located in carefully carved out caverns. It was, after all, his wedding anniversary too.

His mother had come in from Ceto to watch Phoebe so the girl wouldn't be displaced once again. Persephone was off not only on a summer internship but also off searching Ashlan Crusade sites for an educational project that would span into the next school cycle.

Which meant they were free and clear. Most of his time had been spent on the trip over had been working on acquiring new mining contracts. He was still working on overtaking mines that were beyond repair or abandoned. Not always cheaper, but the rights often transferred to a new owner. Ghorman was a new one in his sights, off in Galactic Alliance space.

Yet that was far from his mind as he kicked under the water. It was a literal bathtub, a hot spring fed into the cavern system. A little on the salty side too, maybe that was because of the rock type.

Popping out of the water next to Ellie, hand pushed his dark hair back, blinking.

"I bet you can't believe I found a spa with a cavern pool."

Makai was sure, deep down, she was thrilled on some level.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra hadn't even bothered to tie her hair up and just let the curls spill over one shoulder as she leaned back against the slick, mineral warmed stone, eyes half lidded like a smug lothcat in the sun. The geothermal steam kissed her skin, making her glow just enough to look dangerous.

A wry smile curved over her lips as she'd felt the ripple of his approach before he even popped up like some smug little sea wraith.

She arched a brow, lazily turning her head toward him.

"Mmm. Can't believe it? Sweetheart, I'm still reeling from the part where you actually took time off -- especially in light of that new mineral you found on Ghorrum."

She gave a chuckle, very aware of what that meant for Makai when it came to minerals, shiny rocks, or some new ore.

"But points for style. Hot springs, caverns, no holo-signals? If this ends with champagne and scandalous massages, I might just renew your husband privileges early."

And then, lower, a playful lilt as she reached out to trail a lazy fingertip down his soaked shoulder.

"Or maybe I'll make you earn it. You up for that, mine miner?"

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Myra Arceneau Dashiell

“We've neglected our anniversary the last few years because of Phoebe. Wasn't going to let that happen this time around. Plus, we have been apart due to this hyperlane mess. Figured it might be time to catch up.”

Neglecting their anniversary was a stretch. Celebrations had been nights at home where he cooked a special dinner after the kids were asleep for the night. A fine way to ring in another year, but it was time for a shake up.

“I'm reeling that the Trade Princess took time off. Wouldn't have believed it if you told me. I was beginning to suspect you were out single handedly charting new hyperlanes yourself. Be more shocked at yourself than me. I can visit the mines after.”

Makai slid next to her on the carved out bench, resting against the warm rock wall. Extremely relaxed, his head was tilted back, listening to the cadence of her voice.

“Renew my privileges?” A small shake of his head. “Last I checked our prenuptial agreement there was no expiration date. Nor did I see a clause about having to earn my place on a recurring basis. I read it regularly just to make sure you're living up to the contractually obligated wife I signed up for.”

A pause as he tossed a boyish grin in her direction.

“I brought wine that a certain wife requested. I'm sure I can conjure up a bottle of champagne if you so request. Scandalous massage I can do.”

Makai rolled his shoulders experimentally, as if testing his muscles.

“I'm limber. Bring on the challenges.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x | Tag: Makai Dashiell

Myra gave a chuckle as she stretched her legs under the steaming water like a queen on holiday, wrist draped over the edge of the stone bench as if she'd been born to rule hot springs and husbands alike.

Well, at least she was trying to considering Makai was putting up all the charm and it was taking all she could to keep up her silly banter and not jump him.

So she sideeyed him with a slow, wicked smile, determined to give as good as she got.

"Oh, so now you're reading the fine print? That prenup also said I retain sole rights to smug superiority and dramatic entrances... which I'm clearly still honoring."

A playful flick of water landed on his shoulder. Barely a splash. Just a warning shot. Nevermind the mischevious glint dancing in her grey eyes.

Okay, so there had been a prenup based on Danger's recomendations with the Arceneau Legacy, but ther were not any details that Myra had so decided to claim. It was obvious to them both, but they were clearly teasing each other now.

Nevermind the time where she got so wine drunk that Myra had been so useless in anything....

Regardless, she leaned in just a touch, enough for her breath to ghost over his ear, low and teasing.

"Champagne's a good start though. And if your massage technique has kept up with those contracts you've been snatching up…" Her nails grazed the edge of his jaw, featherlight. "Then maybe, maybe, I'll let you renew a few privileges early."

Beat.

"But only if you say please."