Private What the Water Gave Me

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"You forget you're talking to the guy who spent ages out doing expeditions on his own. Granted, I was running from you but that is here nor there. The job still had to be done."

Back when he had sworn he wasn't going to return to any of their old stomping grounds when she was there. He had carefully curated and maintained a relationship with her parents, visiting when he knew she wasn't around. Stuck close to Celestial Station and didn't leave. Skipped out on all the galas and parties and charity events that were expected of the son of Judah Dashiell. A small smile touched his features as he thought how ridiculous the entire situation was in hindsight. At the time? Very justified.

"I'm happy you're excited. We work well together and yes, its been a long time since we've been on new adventure."

Understandable, considering during that time they had gotten married and became parents. An adjustment for anyone, even someone like himself who was thriving under the role of father and husband. Learning the ins and outs of keeping a small helpless little clone of himself alive was quite the hands on adventure.

Hand reached up and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, shaking his head.

"Yes, our family would crumble without the proper kitchen countertops. A non-porous stone is critical...maybe a polished quartzite." Brows furrowed as the window thing came up again. Only apparently it wasn't the windows, it was his choice of attire. "I run shirtless every morning. I have since Thirty-Seven basically forced me to after we started dating....I can say with absolute confidence, no one has ever looked twice. Not even on a business trip in the middle of a city."

Hand left her ear and slid down to the side of her neck, rubbing the skin just below her earlobe.

"Face it Mistress Arceneau, you're the only fool who wanted me. Or even bothers to look."

[ Not true Sir. I have looked. ]

"Scratch that. You and Thirty-Seven."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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


Myra gave a throaty chuckle as she shook her head and rolled her eyes at Makai again, a smirk twisting over her lips after.

"Running from me, hmm?" she teased, her voice a mix of fondness and mock scolding. "Well, I did a bit of chasing on my own."

She leaned in close, brushing her shoulder against his with a small grin.

"And for the record, you still can't hide from me, even if you tried. I'd find you halfway across the galaxy, shirtless or not."

That totally wasn't a lie. Nope. Legit would deploy all assets to come after him. A little crazy? Yes. But that was Makai's level of crazy he was happy with.

Her gaze softened as she studied him, fingers tracing the back of his hand where it rested near her neck.

"You're right though," she said, quieter now. "We do work well together. Better than we used to, I think. Probably helps we're actually talking to each other." A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Or run away."

At the mention of countertops, she couldn't help another laugh.

"Quartzite, hmm? I'll allow it. But only if I get the final say on color. You're brilliant with schematics, love, but your taste in interior design still leans 'functionally tragic.'"

Then Thirty-Seven chimed in, and she nearly choked on a laugh.

"Oh, Inari help me," she managed between giggles, turning her head toward the droid.

"Thirty-Seven, I appreciate your honesty, but that's not helping your case."

She looked back at Makai with her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"See? You've got competition. Apparently, I'm not the only one admiring the view -- just the only one allowed!."

She bent down to then kiss him once again, flashing him a wink.

"But for the record, you're wrong. You've always been someone worth looking at." She leaned in, her lips brushing just under his jaw.

"Even when you were running."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"I don't think Thirty-Seven is any competition for you."

[ Not at all Mistress. My primary objective is to ensure the family unit is kept in tact and Mister Dashiell stays on the correct path. ]

Makai chuckled for just a moment, getting cut off when Ellie kissed his jaw. His hand slid up into her soft hair, gently tilting her head so their lips could meet. Less playful and more passionate, the half-Galan was getting lost in the moment - and a little too eager - when he was reminded they weren't alone by the sound of whirring servos.

Lips broke away from his wife, breathing a little ragged. "Thirty-Seven can you leave us alone for....three and a half minutes?"

[ Here Sir?! ] Thirty-Seven's tone all but implied good luck. [ I will give you four. ]

As Thirty-Seven left, his hands began to make quick work of the buttons on her shirt. Why in the 'verse did he say he loved all those buttons when they were dating? Much easier when they weren't parents and these types of things could stretch all afternoon. Now? Now he was clocking minutes. However, he didn't get far before the interruptions began.

"MAAMAA? PAAPAA?"

Muffled little voice echoed throughout the corridor. Makai could hear their nanny biot reminding Phoebe to use her inside voice. Defeated, he knew it was only a matter of time before they were found out. Shaking his head, buttons started to go back in reverse.

"I think she's trying to keep herself an only child."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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


"Four minutes? How generous," she murmured as her grin curved up in a tease as she let him kiss her again, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Her heart skipped when his hands started on the buttons of hers, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like the galaxy had gone still.

Then came the small, distant call.

"MAAMAA? PAAPAA?"

The sound froze her mid-laugh and Myra let her forehead fall forward against Makai's chest as a sigh escaped her lips.

"Of course," she muttered as amusement softened her tone. "Our timing is impeccable as always."

As he fumbled to redo her buttons Myra slid her fingers up to help him chuckling under her breath.

"You know," she said, glancing up at him with a wicked little grin, "you're getting slower at this.... do we need to conduct timed drills, now?"

Her teasing faded into fondness as she reached up to smooth his hair.

"But she's got your instincts, you know. Always interrupting right when things get interesting."

From somewhere down the corridor came the faint patter of tiny feet and the nanny biot's patient voice. Myra smiled, tilting her head toward him.

"Come on, Second Lieutenant. Looks like your little terrorists have found us again."

She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and whispered, "To be continued… preferably somewhere Thirty-Seven and Phoebe can't track us in under ten seconds."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"Drills?! Why does it make it sound as if you'll be yelling at me during."

Teasing smile flashed back at her. Makai hoped his wife was joking about the drills. Perhaps it was time for less buttons, or maybe less talking before the action began. Impersonable though. For now they would just have to get a little more clever, which, in his opinion was going to be half the fun.

"Tonight." The half-Galan whispered back. "I'm going to wear her out...gravgolf. Hide and seek. Running around. Dance party. She should go out like a light by bedtime."

Hopefully he wouldn't go out like a light either. Makai had gotten enough practice caring for Phoebe on his own when Ellie was out for business. This was no different - distract and tire her enough to where when bath and bedtime came there was no resistance. Considering being on the Tranquility was completely upside down for a young girl.

Helping Ellie off his lap, they both stood and made their way to the door. Thirty-Seven was outside, standing like some odd sentential.

[ Already Sir? A new record. ]

"Funny."

"I HEAR THEM" Apparently the nanny's words of 'inside voice' were falling on deaf ears. The sound of little feet rapidly increased before coming into view. Phoebe all but flung herself at her father and Makai caught her, hoisting the little girl up and kissing her cheek.

"There's our Starlight."

"I was looking for you." Little arms outstretched towards her mother. "What Mama and Papa doing?"

"Talking about Phoebe, our favorite little subject."

"Thats rude Papa. 'Member we don't talk about people."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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

Myra laughed softly in amusement as she took their daughter from Makai's arms.

"He's right, Starlight," she said pressing a kiss to Phoebe's forehead. "We were talking about you. But only to say how clever and beautiful you are. That's allowed."

Phoebe narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart," Myra replied solemnly, tracing the motion over her chest before giving Makai a sidelong grin. "Your father was also promising me drills, which sounds very serious. I might need to practice my listening face."

Makai's look of mock warning only deepened her grin. Her grey eyes were full of devilry as she added, "Don't worry, darling, I'll make sure your Papa survives his own training schedule tonight. If anyone's getting worn out, it's him."

Phoebe gasped dramatically. "But Papa's big! He can't get tired!"

"Oh, he can," Myra said, lowering her voice in mock conspiracy. "You'll see. After gravgolf, hide and seek, and that dance party he promised, he's going to look like one of those droids in low-power mode."

[ I heard that, Mistress. ] Thirty-Seven's tone carried a faint note of pride.

Myra laughed as she turned toward the droid, and she shifted Phoebe on her hip.

"Of course you did. You're the only one who never misses a thing."

Then she looked back at Makai, her expression softening.

"Come on you. Let's go teach our Starlight how to play hide and seek on a ship. You can run, I'll hide."

Her smile turned just a touch wicked as she brushed past him toward the corridor.

"And tonight, you can show me those drills."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"Hide? From me? Impossible." Phoebe slithered down, giggling, preparing to run and hide herself. Looked as if he was up first on the 'search and seek' portion. "Alright, Dashiell women scatter, I'll count to twenty." It was a two-story vessel. Counting to ten would be useless, especially with a toddler. Not that he planned on running around. Best part of this is he could leisurely walk around.

[ Should I hide too Sir? ]

"Not unless you have a burning desire. Just keep an eye on the hyperlanes at the same time."

[ Understood. I will remain in the cockpit. Should Mistress Arceneau or young Miss Phoebe enter I will covertly message you. ]

"Male solidarity, thanks Thirty-Seven"

With the women of the house scattered, Makai began his out loud counting, slowly walking down the corridor. Hopefully this little scheme of his worked.

---

Putting his glasses back on in the very dim light of the bedroom, Makai was gasping for air. It felt as if he had run miles at a high pace. Sweat sheened across his skin, glistening even in the darkness. Hand pushed through his damp hair, swooping it to the one side as he always kept it. Back half against the headboard, he was trying to play it cool, even as his entire body felt like gelatin.

"Don't..." A half-warning, half-gasp for more air. "Don't touch me...don't even breathe in my direction right now....I don't think my spongy, bruised flesh could take it."

Not prepared for these drills, he hadn't even put water on his bedside table. To be fair, he was normally able to walk around. Breathe normally. Banter a little. Hell, he had even got up and gone for morning runs after. It seemed this night his wife took these drills as some personal challenge. A challenge he had been unaware of.

"Temptress."

Oh she was quite pleased of herself, he could see that from here. A smug look written over every feature.

"Do we have any electrolyte drinks on board? I think I'm dehydrating.."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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

Myra's laughter was quiet but merciless, it's low and velvety sound resonating in the dim cabin light. She stretched languidly beside him, one leg draped over the sheets, her mahogany hair mussed and falling into her face in a way that only made that smug look deepen. Smoky grey eyes shimmered between soft silver and the darker shade they always took when she was feeling particularly pleased with herself.

"Electrolytes?" she echoed, amusement threading through her voice. "Oh, I don't know... I did tell you to hydrate before drills. But no, someone was too busy giving speeches about strategy... instead of you know, recalling he was part fish that needed to prep."

She shifted closer, the sheet rustling as her fingertips trailed over his chest, tracing lazy circles against skin still slick with sweat.

"And I seem to recall someone saying I couldn't hide from him," she murmured, a teasing lilt curling through her tone. "Yet here we are....found, defeated, and requesting medical grade rehydration."

Makai groaned something unintelligible which only made her grin wider. Myra leaned in to brush her lips along the line of his jaw, voice dropping into a whisper.

"You're lucky I adore you. Otherwise, I'd record this for Thirty-Seven's archives under 'Makai Dashiell's Tactical Failures.'"

She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before rolling off the bed with a satisfied hum.

"I'll get your drink, hero. Try not to collapse before I get back. Wouldn't want our daughter finding her fearless father felled by a dance party and a round of hide and seek."

Pausing at the doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes dancing faintly in the dark.

"And for the record, you lasted longer than I thought you would. Not bad for a man who once claimed I couldn't keep up."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"Don't get lost out there."

It didn't take long for his wife to return, two items in hand. Taking the items being offered, Makai looked at the labels. One was a bottle of Aquaticade in a weird dewberry flavor, the other a small juice box that looked as if it was raided from Phoebe's snack stash. Eyebrow raised and he laughed a little as Ellie found her way back to the bed.

"You're brave. I swear she counts these little drinks everyday. If the tiny terror finds out you took it..." Setting it on the night table, Makai cracked the Aquaticade instead. "Thank you, by the way. Not sure what I did to get such privileged husband treatment. I'm not used to it."

A playful, lighthearted jab. He loved to see that smug, self-satisfied version of Ellie. The one whose personality just flashed before getting the drinks for him. For him it meant she was comfortable and finally at ease enough to not have anxiety about everything - including them. Conversely, it also meant he had to keep her humble before she got too bold and terrorized him.

Arm lifted up, wanting her to come closer.

"So, a question..." No better time to ask, otherwise they would be interrupted by their little Starlight. "Once we find a place in the Slice, the initial portion of it anyway." They had plans to also connect a hyperlane to a bottom portion of the Slice, yet that was far away. First came the initial set up off the Vermillian Drift. "How would you feel if we watched Kellan for a bit? Bale just seems....freaked out....by something. I mentioned our Slice project and he seemed interested in having the boy out here."

Makai took a deep breath.

"On the plus side, Phoebe would have a playmate and maybe, just maybe we wouldn't be exhausted just so much. On the negative side, it is another little terror to take care of. I'd see if Bale would let us use his nanny too, just for stability."

Iced azure gaze turned to her, fingertips idly running down her bare arm.

"I told him we'd discuss it at the least."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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

Myra reappeared in the doorway not long after with the thick mass of mahogany waves tied loosely back in a ponytail and a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"It was a small miracle I made it past Thirty-Seven's lecture about 'late-night hydration efficiency,'" she said dryly as she saw him drink the Aquaticade, slipping in back to bed beside him.

"And before you start, yes, this was a high-risk operation. Phoebe's snack stash was heavily guarded. I expect full recognition for bravery under fire."

SHe leaned into his raised arm, settling against him as the faint hum of the ship filled the quiet. The teasing in her expression softened when he mentioned Kellan.

"Bale's rattled?" she echoed, musing on that bit of information about the former Jedi, "That's not like him." the heiress took a deep breath but then she sighed, the pad of her finger tracing idle patterns on his chest.

"Honestly, I don't mind. Kellan's a good kid and Phoebe could use someone her age to chase around instead of exhausting us."

A faint fond expression bloomed over her flushed face, and she gave a mischievous grin.

"Though two little terrors loose on the Tranquility might be asking for trouble. Between Phoebe's curiosity and Kellan's energy, we'll need a second nanny. Is this yoru version of trying to test out if we can handle two before attempting to get pregnant again?"

Even as she laughed, she leaned over to brush a kiss to his damp, hot temple.

"But yes. Tell Bale we'll take him, at least for a while. I trust your gut on this. And maybe having another little one aboard will keep you from getting too comfortable during drills."

A teasing smirk followed as she whispered, "Wouldn't want your endurance to slip, after all."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"Highly guarded snack stash? What did you have to do, move some stuffed animals around?"

Makai could see their daughter using her toys to 'guard' things. Quite the imagination.

As Ellie spoke, he sipped on the electrolyte drink, listening to her play out what bringing young Kellan along with them would entail. He was pleased she was open to it. Not only to help out Balun Dashiell but also to get Phoebe a bit of a playmate as they drifted further out. She could only play independently for so long before coming to find one of her parents to cater to her entertainment needs.

"A second nanny?" He echoed, curious. "I'm not opposed and it will be easy to acquire another biot. Do you think we will need a nanny per child? I suppose it would be more of a safety move."

Arm around her gently squeezed for a moment as she mentioned adding to their family and if Kellan was a chance to try it out. Index finger tapped on her skin, a sign his mind was still on the two nanny situation and pregnancy. The pregnancy with Phoebe hadn't gone well. Partially due to being first time parents, another from Ellie being sick up until about the sixth month. He had already read there was a high chance of her being just as sick the next time.

"No. I already know I want more, I know I can handle another. Question is, can you? I mean..." Makai let his fingertips trail down her arm again. "You were so sick. I'm not sure if there is something we can do differently this time. If not you will be out of commission for at least a year, meaning we're going to have to call on your Ma to pick up slack at the company again....Maybe we need to do a surrogate."

It had never been discussed before but if Ellie was going to be deathly ill, it was a thought. His wife was in the driver's seat in this situation.

"...or, if you're eager I stopped taking my stim after we talked about Cerean twins during our anniversary. Give me two months and you'll have swollen ankles and sleeping every five minutes."

Makai chuckled a little before turning serious. Hand reached out and gently tilted her jaw towards him. The half-Galan wanted her to look at him for his next words.

"Or Phoebe remains an only child. Whatever you're comfortable with or whatever you want to do, I'm on board."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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

Myra tilted her head, amusement glimmering in her grey eyes as she gave a low laugh and shook her head.

"Stuffed animals? Please. I had to negotiate with Captain Ropo himself. It was a tense diplomatic exchange, but I secured our prize with minimal casualties."

She leaned against him again, snuggling in close, but when he actually thought they should get a second nanny, the heiress chuckled quietly, shoulders giving a little shake.

"A nanny per child? My word, no. I'd like to think we're still capable adults… though considering Phoebe's ability to command entire rooms we might need to start recruiting early."

She let her fingers dribble down his arm as she drew lazy shapes against his skin and over the small, beautiful patches of irridecent blue scales. But when his tone shifted, so did hers. The teasing faded to something gentler, more thoughtful as he spoke of pregnancy, illness, and surrogacy.

"Makai…" she began, her eyes softening as she reached up to touch his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly along his jaw. "I remember how hard it was. For both of us. But don't think for a second that I regret any of it."

She smiled faintly in that kinda way that warmed her eyes. She meant it.

"If we decide to have another, I'm not opposed to exploring safer options. But I don't want you thinking I'm fragile. And we had the best medical care we could get. By far it was the most observed and monitored pregnancy I'm sure between you and mama."

Her fingers slid from his jaw to his neck, tracing the line of his pulse.

"That said, I'm not against the idea of waiting either. I rather like having you to myself a little longer before another set of tiny hands starts stealing the spotlight."

That playful smirk returned again, "And if we do decide to try -- Cerean twins or not -- you better start hydrating. My drills will not be getting any easier."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"I don't think you regret it. Nor do I think you're fragile. Just....you know, I didn't take what you did for granted."

A small snort of laughter at the mentioned of the most watched pregnancy ever. Between his hovering, Danger's keen eye and questioning, and the midwife he had hired to actually live on the Estate the entire time there wasn't so much a twinge that didn't go uninvestigated. It may had seemed a little excessive but given the circumstances and history, he would do it again next pregnancy.

"Waiting? You're just delaying my journey to becoming a full time house husband." Playful, teasing grin broke out on his features. He tucked a strand of hair behind her, continuing. "You, bringing home the bacon. Me, watching over the tiny terrors and cooking the bacon. Living my best life as an extremely kept man. However..."

He stopped to kiss her temple.

"It seems you're possessive and want me all to yourself. I get it, I'm incredibly amazing, I can't fault you." The half-Galan flashed a boyish grin, shaking his head. "You're right though. Let's wait until this project is more along and Phoebe is a little older so she can understand more. Not sure I could deal with a jealous toddler blaming her newborn sister for everything on top of all that is going on."

Eyebrows lifted in challenge.

"Until then, I'll have to strictly follow your drills in order to keep myself in tip-top condition."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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


Myra laughed softly as she gave him an amused knowing look.

"Oh, you're doing a fine job of being kept already," she teased, dribbling her fingertips along the edge of his jaw. "Between my drills, your gravgolf sessions, and your very thorough snack raids, I think you've settled into the role quite nicely."

Nonetheless, the Heiress's tone softened as she leaned in to press a slow kiss to his lips before adding.

"And for the record, I never took what you did for granted either. You were patient through all of it, even when I was… less than pleasant." A faint smile tugged at her lips. "We make a decent team, don't we?"

The quiet hum of the ship deepened as she spoke, their ship slipping out of hyperspace, the soft vibration beneath them subtly shifting. Outside the dark velveet of hyperspace began to stretch and twist and then the streaking stars reverted back into sharp points of light. One second later, Thirty-Seven's voice echoed faintly over the comm.

[ Approaching Malagarr, Mistress. ]

Myra's brows perked up at the news. Returning to the Slice wasn't new, but even then, the view was pretty. The stars spilled across the darkness like dusted glass and off in the distance the faint glow of nearby nebulae painted pale violet and gold against the void.

"There it is," she breathed. "The Slice."

She gave his bare hip a light pat and then moved to slip out of the bed.

"Come on. Let's see what we find out there."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

THE SLICE, UNKNOWN SYSTEM

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

"We are a great team. I would hope so after knowing one another for this long. Otherwise I'd be concerned."

With the hum of the ship, Makai was being lulled back to sleep. Eyes closed as he rested against the headboard, thinking his wife would slip back into slumber as well. Until the noticeable shift signaled they were emerging from hyperspace. A small groan of annoyance. Although he had learned to survive on less sleep due to their darling toddler, Makai still didn't exactly enjoy the experience. Embracing naps was the only thing keeping him sane during this time.

Eyes opened to see the faint purple hues splashed in their room. It was quite beautiful and for a small moment he wondered what the real viee was going to give them. A hidden gem perhaps?

"Right behind you dear."

​

Having slipped on some lounge pants, Makai followed barefoot down the corridor and into the cockpit where Thirty-Seven was waiting on them. Now the glow was more prominent, the nebula's light shining brightly across their first and potentially only stop. Their field of view contained not only the nebula but a greenish brown planet with oceans and an odd looking moon, purplish from what he assumed were minerals in the sand and soil.

[ Greetings Mistress, Sir. ] Thirty-Seven's photoreceptors dimmed, a sign information was being processed. [ We are currently five standard hours away from Malagarr by way of lightspeed. We came through the hyperspace gate to this point. Before us is Unknown Sytem S-UC0897 . Five planets in this system, including two gas giants. Our scouts from Aina Holdings indicate this planet before is would be ideal for settlement. There is another with potential but it is arid in nature. I assume that would not work for yourself or large growth Sir. ]

"Water is useful for a population, you're right Thirty-Seven." Makai turned to his wife. "Do we dare set down and poke around?"

[ Scanners do not indicate any major signs of organized life in this planetary region. It can be assumed pirates or warlords are not on the surface. Nor did our scouts see any signs. ]

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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

Myra moved in beside him scrubbed clean, hair up in a fresh ponytail and wearing the sort of clothing that was not only great for exploring but also getting a certain Half-Galan's oceanic blues to give a double take.

Especially in those pants that seemed to cling like a second skin. But hey! They had stretchy pockets.

Totally only wearing them for the pockets. Wink!

The nebula's soft light washed over her half-amused features and turned her grey eyes a muted silver. The Heiress took in the planet, the strange lavender moon, the swirling colors beyond… then shot Makai a look that was equal parts fond and knowingly exasperated.

"Let's poke around, hmm?" she repeated, her voice lilting with amusement as she gave a little nod of understanding.

"Right. Which in Makai-speak really means 'let's go see what kind of rock formations are hiding near the water so I can absolutely lose you to a shiny pile of mineral deposits for three hours.'"

She nudged his hip gently.

"And I just know that if you find so much as a hint of a petrified fossil, I'll never see you again. You'll be halfway across the shoreline with a datapad and a grin before I can even say 'hydrate.'"

None the less despite her humor, Myra's brows gave a slight furrow as she studied the untouched green-brown sphere turning before them.

"As much as I want to explore it with you… I don't want to risk Phoebe just yet."

"So maybe, until we get a proper sweep done she stays close to the ship with El-Three and Thirty-Seven. At least until we know what the flora and fauna are like. Unknown ecosystems can be unpredictable even without pirates."

She glanced back at him, her expression a mother's mix of warmth and worry threading through her tone.

"I want to take our little Starlight exploring too. I really do. I just… want to make sure the flowers she's bound to get excited over won't bite her first."

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

Eyebrow rose at her choice of attire. Part of him was amused, because laced in all her words about rock formations and losing him, he knew the heart of the matter. The fact all his attention should be focused on her and not on a pile of rocks laying on the ground that were there thousands of years before them and, if undisturbed, would be there long after. The half-Galan was unsure if she was still a little uncertain about how madly in love with her he really was that a pile or rocks would make her a touch jealous. Or, as she mentioned earlier in their talk of future children, Ellie just really wanted him for herself.

"Mmhmm, I know your game all too well Missus Dashiell. You are fooling no one in those leggings."

At the mention of having their daughter stay back while they explored, his cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. Had his wife not been present he would have bounded out the ramp with the little girl, eager to discover something together and to watch her face light up. One of the small, expected joys of becoming a father - watching Phoebe get excited over the smallest and mundane things, to see her curious little personality in action.

"Right, we can't have her getting hurt. Besides." Makai nudged her shoulder, grinning as he dropped some dark humor. "If we get eaten by those ravenous flowers, Phoebe will be alive to carry on the Arceneau and Dashiell legacy."

A SHORT TIME LATER...

With Tranquility set down, another sweep of the area conducted, rucksacks of equipment, and a blaster or two for good measure the time to explore was at hand. Trouble was actually getting off the vessel with a clinging, red faced little girl attached to his leg. A look at Ellie before he carefully maneuvered to kneel down at her level. A little sniffle as she rubbed her eye.

"...but I wanna go too! I'm a big girl."

"You are a big girl and guess what? You will get to go exploring later on today. Mama and I just got to scope out things first. We won't be too long."

"I can 'cope too."

"I know you can but its up to Mama and me to make sure you stay safe. Then once we know its safe we can bring you out too." A small little nod and another sniffle. "In the meantime, you know what you can do? I want you to make El-Three and Thirty-Seven matching friendship bracelets alright? Have those ready to show off by the time we get back."

Makai kissed Phoebe's cheek and gave a little squeeze of her shoulder before standing.

"Be good Starlight. Mama and I will be back in a couple hours."

[ Between myself, El-Three, and Lia you have nothing to worry about Mistress, Sir. ]

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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

Myra knelt beside them, brushing a curl away from Phoebe's damp cheek, her grey eyes softening into that muted stormcloud shade she got whenever their daughter's heart wobbled.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, cupping Phoebe's chin gently to lift her chin up and meet her gaze. "Being a big girl also means being patient. And helping Mama and Papa by doing very important work back on the ship."

Phoebe sniffed again her lower lip wobbling. "Important?"

"Very important," Myra repeated, giving a solumn nod before she leaned conspiratorially. "El-Three and Thirty-Seven desperately need fashion upgrades....only you can make bracelets special enough for two very dramatic droids."

From behind her, Thirty-Seven buzzed indignantly.

[ I am not dramatic, Mistress. ]

Myra gave him a pointed stare.

"You cried over a faulty charging cable last week."

The droid went silent.

Phoebe's tiny giggle finally broke through her sadness, and Myra smiled with relief.

"See? They need you." She pressed a kiss to Phoebe's forehead. "And when we get back if the ground doesn't try to eat us you can explore as much as you want."

That earned a tiny nod. Not enthusiastic but one of understanding. Good enough.

Myra stood, slipping her hand into Makai's as they descended the ramp and stepped onto unknown soil.

The air was warm, if slightly muggy. Myra wasn't sure if that was because the world was always humid or if it was just a humid day. The strange lavender glow from the moon washed the rocks in pale violet tones and the faint hum of distant wildlife called out almost like birds.

"Leggings, hmm?" she said lightly as she arched a brow at the Half-Galan as they made their way toward the patch of emerald grass leading to a low ridge. "You think I dress like this just to distract you?"

She smirked, bumping her shoulder into his.

"Maybe I do. Because someone gets a little too starry-eyed around sediment layers."

She crouched near a patch of unfamiliar ferns, taking out her small digial analzyeer scanner to gently scan along the leaves and studying their shapes.

"But jokes aside," she added, voice softening as she scanned the treeline, "thank you for thinking of her safety. I know how excited you were to bring her along."

Her hand found his again as she straightened, the nebula's glow catching in her eyes and lighting them silver.

"So, since this is something you did all the time on Panatha... what's the first thing we should be doing?"

 

[Makai Dashiell]

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

"You're an amazing mother, you know that? She absolutely adores you."

Hills gently rolled in front of them. Off in the distance he could see a towering line of trees beginning a forest. Much was covered in an odd hue due the moon and he wondered if it was more pronounced in the evening. Perhaps something similar to Gallinore where it was never truly dark.

"Please." Makai tossed Ellie a look that let her know he saw through her innocent act. "You've been dressing to distract me since Maramere. The gray pajamas. That white gown at our first Life Day together. These leggings. All carefully curated to keep my attention. Now, I've been appreciative with every choice and thought put into what you wear. Never been necessary, you always have my full attention."

Hand squeezed hers. In many ways his wardrobe was carefully styled to her tastes as well - seen to by Thirty-Seven. The droid refreshed his closet seasonally in colors of gray, navy, and black. Now a bit of lavender thrown in his ties or pocket squares as a nod to Phoebe and her love of the color. Thirty-Seven insisted he coordinate with Ellie years ago and never had the desire to fight the droid on such a minor thing.

Boots crunched on some rocks and he looked down, determined not to get distracted. They were slightly mossy, a sign there was abundant water. At least in this season. The humidity also gave that away but they knew little of the climate. Could have just been a random storm blown through and they had just missed it.

Even with a gentle lavender glow from the moon, the planet was beautiful. Quiet yet teeming with life. He had spotted several small amphibians already, poking through the ferns.

"No need to thank me. I was the one about to drag our only child out on an unknown planet." A small chuckle and the shake of his head at his own foolishness. "Let's see, look for the shiniest rock and then study it until sunset. At sunset, light a fire and write in your journal while talking to your Loth-cat. Also potentially cry or brood as needed."

Shoulder bumped hers at his own self deprecation.

"When I was looking to set up actual mining colonies, when I wasn't searching for mineral composition, I set up climate relays. Had to get a feel of the weather to even see if it was worthwhile. Or if the weather was horrible, the minerals better be worth having to put up heavy duty facilities."

Head craned up towards the purple-toned moon.

"I bet there's a ton of resources on that moon...." Eyes leveled back down to her stormy gray. "Down here we need to make sure its situatable not only for our family but thousands others. If all goes well we will be convincing employees to come join us on this adventure. Given the state of the galaxy...I'm sure it will be an easy sell for some but still."

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

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

Myra flushed at Makai's compliment feeling the warmth spread across her cheeks before the heiress managed a soft laugh.

"Well, I suppose I had a very good teacher. You got spoiled by my mama, remember? Maybe I just borrowed a few of her parenting tricks."

But the moment he accused her of dressing to distract him, Myra stopped in her tracks and stared at him in dramatic offense.

"Carefully curated? Really?" Her grey eyes widened as she pointed at her leggings. "You are a CEO, an explorer, and a grown man. I expect you to be able to function under a little aesthetic stress. If leggings take you out, Makai, then we have far more serious issues than unknown planets."

Still, she bumped her shoulder into his lightly, amusement tugging her lips.

"Besides, if anyone was trying to distract anyone back on Maramere, it was you."

As they walked on, she crouched near a patch of glowing moss, brushing her fingers across it before rising again. His talk of climate relays and journals earned a quiet laugh.

"Listen to you. A whole dramatic, brooding explorer and I married you without knowing it."

She glanced toward the sky then back at him with a teasing lift of her brow.

"Should we have brought relays then? Or sensors? I thought we were prepared, but perhaps we showed up with hope and enthusiasm."