Ask Dathomir Inheritance

[Arla]

Arla listened to all the time that the Wreans had thrown out aggressors, but rather than making her feel better, it somehow made things sting all the more. Her Clan had been nearly wiped out by the Separatists, and then had lost many again to the Empire. They hadn't been enough, and it had cost the blood of people she cared about. She was tired of offworlders meddling in the affairs of her home.

That's what Mother thought. Build an Empire, put a hedge around Dathomir, and then it was that Empire that came and sacked our world and murdered her, she spat angrily, with more venom than she had intended.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she knew that he was trying to help her feel better, and that he was assuring her that he would stand with her, but something inside her ached. Wounds that wouldn't close, and would likely linger with her for years to come.

She simply remained in her seat, silvery eyes staring ahead numbly.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

He froze in walking away, head tilting in Arla's direction at the sound of her venomous words, never having heard her that upset. His touch lingered, and then he left. It might have been a somber departure if not for the rustling of plastic packaging. A minute or two later Nakoa reappeared in the cockpit with a backpack containing the sum total of the snacks he brought everywhere and a pack of drink cans with Tethysian script on them. He placed it all on some free floor space and sat back down in the copilot chair.

Amber-gold eyes stared ahead into space, counting the specks of light that passed them by. His mouth opened a little, then closed again, exhaling softly through his nose. He shifted in his chair, making that quiet squeaky noise of cloth and leather. A specific bag of premium jerky floated from the bag onto Arla's half of the cockpit console.

"Tell me about her?" he gently suggested. Nakoa hadn't known her, either as Renfry or Andruil. His reaction before, "stoic" as Arla thought, was simply because of that. Her power and position were extraordinary, her deeds legendary. That sort of thing didn't matter as much to Nakoa, odd as he was, when the person was unknown to him.

Nakoa cared because Renfry was Arla's mother, and now she was gone. He wasn't offended by her anger and frustration. This wasn't about him in the first place. It was about loss, and he wasn't sure how- or if- he could help. But they'd been working and traveling together for years now, and Nakoa didn't need his gifts to understand her pain.

Maybe talking about her would bring her back. Just for a little while.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla sat there, turning back to look out the cockpit and lean back in the seat. She let out a heavy sigh as he rustled around in the other room. When he finally returned she actually smiled as the jerky floated over to her.

Thank you, she said, biting into the jerky and chewing it with closed eyes. She thought about her mother and all that she could say.

She was always there, she said. She had been the single constant in Arla's life for the entire quarter century she'd been alive. She always knew the answer, always pushed Arla, and was always there to catch Arla when she soared too high.

The galaxy knew a face she put on, but that was never who she was. She could be harsh and brutal when she needed, but it was always because she had to be like that, she said. The side of her that was happy, though, was the side here on Dathomir. Where she could simply run free, and even now, Arla knew that she was one with their home. She knew her mother must finally be happy.

I wonder sometimes if I'm doing what she would want, she said. She knew what her mother had said in the goodbye message, but she couldn't help but feel that maybe she was squandering her potential. She still heard Raze's words that haunted her, asking why the galaxy didn't bow to her. Why - with all her heritage and blood - she was still simply... Arla.

It was unusually for anyone to see her in such a state, but it spoke to how shaken she was after recent events.

She shook her head as if to stop herself, angry for the weakness she was expressing. It was an embarrassment. I should not be whining, she thought. If she needed a safety net and continued feeling sorry for herself then it was only further proof that she was pathetic.

But the past cannot be changed now, she said, stuffing the rest of the jerky piece into her mouth and rising from her seat to go fetch something. She returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses, one of which she passed to Nakoa.

To our new ship, she said and took a drink.

What do you think of Apex? she finally asked after another moment.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa was pleased to see Arla smiling, even if only for a moment, smiling a little himself. He listened quietly as she spoke about Renfry. It was good for Arla talk about her, he thought. He could almost imagine her, from the little he'd seen on old holonet archives.

A face, a mask, an act. It all sounded familiar. Nakoa would've liked to meet her in life. He didn't interrupt to comment- it did take some restraint, given who he was as a person- but this was important.

It was when Arla showed a moment of real vulnerability that he turned again to look at her. Arla had helped him in her own ways- not intentionally, aside from working together- but when Nakoa had expressed a weakness she'd not hesitated in the least to offer aid. She may not fully understand the degree of help she'd given, and he hadn't found the words to explain it yet. But...

"How could she not be proud of you, Arla?" he said softly as Arla left the cockpit, contemplating the stars in her short absence.

Slender fingers took up the glass of wine, a small smile on his face as they toasted. "To our new ship," he echoed, taking a drink of his own. It wasn't the sort of wine he was used to, dry and kind of fruity-tasting, but it wasn't bad. Arla asked her Apex question and Nakoa took a moment to think.

"I think it works." He sipped the wine, lazily rotating his seat to more fully face Arla. "Contractors from across the galaxy have signed on. Even Jawas. Galactica is profitable. It's well-run, hiring groups everyone else forgets even matter." Another pause, longer this time. Arla wasn't really asking about technical details or profit reports.

"I think Apex is worth it. If we care for it, it'll grow tall and strong. It's important to me that it does."

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla nodded as he talked about Apex, and she hoped he was right. She wanted it to grow into something even more than it was in time, but the start of what it had become was something that had begun to garner notice and attention from others. That was a good thing, and would mean a greater inflow of business as time went on.

She took a sip of her wine, letting out a quiet sigh as she savored the flavor.

Galactica will put us in the public eye more and hopefully draw more business as well, she said. I think we need to focus next on getting a unified training facility. Our name is only as good as those who work for us, and I want to make sure that they are in the proper shape, she said. She knew he had mentioned a training facility before that he thought they should use, and she was inclined to agree at this point.

We're in it together now, sink or swim, she said. If Apex did fall all the way apart and crumble to the ground, Nakoa was one of the only portions of the organization she would still go out of her way to save. Mostly because he wasn't just a part of the organization.

There was a beeping from the control console to signal their approach, and Arla spun back to the controls before pushing forward on the lever to decelerate them out of hyperspace. The stars dropped from streaks back to pinpoints, and she started guiding them down toward the surface.

Did you see any clues where it might be? she asked.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

He made an affirmatory noise, drinking away at the glass of wine like grape juice. The man looked good in a suit but that didn't make him any classier or more affected by alcohol. "I'll send you the updated dossier." More reading and research meant more options to consider. Typical of him, really. Planning right until the action started. He was sure that's how he'd got his job title.

Nakoa smirked with a mischievous light behind those amber-gold eyes of his in response to Arla's 'sink or swim' comment. He almost joked about being unable to drown, but instead, he just said, "Always." Back to the readouts as they dropped from hyperspace, then he looked out the window. His nostrils briefly flared.

"It's loud here." Not the sound. As they entered the atmosphere, the rains of Kalevala pelted the hull, but that was stifled by Arla's luxury sonic bafflers. But even at this great, the echoes of death from Mandalore screamed across space and time. It was always harder for Singh and his Vodun to track a target through a battlefield without some relevant material focus. But he had a sharp instinct nonetheless and could make a decent guess from the vision and basic logic.

"The city?" he asked, tapping the scanner console. It was the only real large settlement on the planet, kept afloat by luxury shipyards and other businesses even during the Imperial era. Whether the big ship was here or not, maybe there'd be clues.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla guided the ship down into the atmosphere, and her eyes drifted lazily over the horizon. Oceans, mountains, and grassy plains stretched out beautifully in front of her, and she couldn't help but think it was a nice place to set up a home. Except for the fact that she couldn't imagine that the Mandalorians would be too happy about her presence.

The city popped up on her scopes and she nodded as Nakoa pointed it out.

Will do, she said, guiding the ship downward and seeing a hangar pop up on her display. She guided it down and landed with a gentle thud before unstrapping and heading for the exit, tucking her lightsaber away as she did.

Not much else on this planet. Very sparsely populated, she said. Should make it easy to find, she added, heading down the exit ramp and paying off the docking fees before popping out her EZphone and starting to look for other docking stations or ship repair facilities.

Surely, it would have to be large to accommodate the First Light, and she found one before showing it to Nakoa.

We should start here, she said.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa stood and stretched, put his jacket-like cloak back on, and strode down the ramp after Arla. While she handled the docking feels and all, the Wrean seemed fascinated by the shining sheets of falling rain. They dropped pitter-patter over walkway covers and exposed streets, clattering on rooftops and wetting folks traveling beneath. Umbrellas navigated the streets like boats on the sea.

Amber-golds glanced over at Arla's phone when she spoke, staring down at the little phone's screen map, and nodded. He lifted his hood and started off down a covered walkway, staying to Arla's left closest to the open streets. Landspeeders passed by occasionally, going who knows where about their daily lives. A rare few folks around wore typical Mandalorian armor, though most seemed to be ordinary citizens and workers.

A hand raised to shield his eyes from a ray of sun that breached the clouds, eyes squinting at a distant structure. "That tower, there?" Nakoa asked before leaning over toward Arla to double-check her phone map.

One speeder passed closer to the curb, repulsors flinging a spray of street water over the walkway. Nakoa leaned closer, and Arla would barely get any water on her at all. Then he continued on as if nothing happened, save for flinging some water off his left sleeve into the street, half his water-resistant garment dripping.

They'd get there before long. It wasn't subtle; a big sign declared it as a Kalevala Spaceworks-certified repair hangar.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla headed down the street, looking around at the people that passed by around them. It was a decent enough planet, it seemed, and the rain didn't seem to bother her much.

She watched as Nakoa ducked over to block the water from striking her, and she wasn't entirely sure how to respond. She watched the water simply roll off of his cloak, and her eyes flicked over to it.

That is convenient, she said. And utilitarian, she added.

They arrived at the shipyard a few moments later and she looked up at it before her brows furrowed.

It doesn't look large enough to store this place long term, she said. I wonder if they have external storage or docking, she said.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

He looked over at Arla, brows raising. His whole face shifted abruptly into a breezy grin featuring razor fangs and all rather than the usual little smirks, obviously amused. That'd been such an 'Arla' thing to say it was actually pretty funny. "Just so. A gift from back home," he told her. Between now and the last time they'd worked together he'd visited Wrea for a few things. "Want one?"

Nakoa took a few moments to examine the building once they arrived in front of it. True to what Arla said, it looked more sized for light freighters or smaller. He clicked his tongue. "Outskirts maybe? Let's ask." And so he strode forward, lowered his hood, and walked right through the office door.

It was pretty clean inside if not wholly spotless. Luckily the receptionist behind the service deck was organic and Nakoa had already shifted his expression into something charming, friendly, and effortlessly relaxed. The receptionist's eyes flicked between the two clearly foreign, but also clearly quite attractive people who'd just wandered into the office and had a moment of bi-panic. It took her a couple seconds to remember she was supposed to say something, her cheeks reddening.

"Uh- Oh, hello! What can we do for you?" Nakoa rested his hands on the reception desk, leaning forward just so. "We're looking into berth and repair for larger craft. Lengthy. Heard you could accommodate, miss..?" Whether that innuendo was intentional or not wasn't clear. What was obvious, despite the receptionist's intention, was an audible gulp as she once again looked between the two people.

"Jana, sir. We have a mountain facility and third-party contracts for larger craft Sir. Ma'am." She cleared her throat after that last word came out as a squeak halfway through. "Kalevala craft have lifetime coverage, after all." Nakoa looked at Arla. That sounded promising.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla looked at the cloak, though she wasn't sure it was quite her style. Even so, the practicality was inspiring in its own way.

No, thank you, she said, declining his offer.

As they made their way into the ship facility, Nakoa started putting on that charm that he was so much better at than her.

Nakoa began his exchange, and Arla just stood there watching. Somehow - unsurprisingly - she looked entirely unamsed, almost bored, but glad that Nakoa seemed to be getting whatever information they needed.

She was smart enough not to mess with a good thing, and so she just... stood there as he dialogued with the woman to find what they needed, giving what was hopefully a reassuring nod when he turned to look at her.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

He turned back to the secretary. "Great. See, we're looking into an older one, stolen. We're sure Kalavala's got nothing to do with it," he continued as Jana tried to deny the claim, heading it off entirely. "Given the age and all. I'd be real appreciative if you'd check for me. You mind, Miss Jana?" Nakoa flashed that charming, well-practiced smile of his.

"Well... I really shouldn't, but I suppose. Since it's important?" she asked. Nakoa nodded reassuringly. After some searching in the system, the Wrean'd somehow had his hands on a printout he absolutely shouldn't have been given by any reasonable corporate security standards. Just before he and Arla left, Nakoa vaguely waved his hand and said, "You really helped us out. You're appreciated," before turning to leave. Jana visibly puffed up with the satisfaction of a job well done.

The very moment they were out the door, Nakoa's face defaulted to his usual with a soft exhale, passing the flimsiplast printout over to Arla. It indicated a Nau'ur-class yacht from the Civil War era had been berthed in their mountain facility, but whether it was still there or not was unclear. They'd have to check in person.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla only semi-watched as Nako worked his charms, seemingly disinterested in this type of thing, and instead just wishing that it was over. Fortunately, it was over in short order, and Nakoa managed to get what he wanted out of the woman, and they were on their way again.

I do not envision them giving the ship up willingly, she said. Although, Darth Stolas had been dead and gone a long time by now. Perhaps they understood they were never going to see him return to pick up his ship. Either way, Arla imagined they would need to do some "persuading" to convince them to hand the ship over.

I would also prefer not to leave a trail of dead bodies behind us, she said. She had no qualms with killing, but murdering your way and stealing across the galaxy was a way to attract a lot of negative attention she wasn't interested in.

Perhaps we can negotiate a contract with them in exchange for the vessel, she said.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa shrugged. "Their compliance isn't a factor," he replied with the air of someone commenting on the weather. It was the way of things. One of his usual licorice root sticks was fished out from his belt and clamped between his teeth. He idly chewed on it while they walked, expression vaguely pensive.

He glanced at Arla when she continued and mentioned negotiating. Nakoa appreciated her first choice being subtlety. There were, after all, alternatives to fighting. "If it's still here," he pointed out, tapping a highlighted bit of the printout. The craft had been stored after refurbishment, according to the file, but the area was completely off-limits to employees with no further data. Then again, where else could it really be?

A grin lit up his face. "We'll figure it out. Always do." Nakoa lightly nudged Arla's shoulder with his own in a friendly sort of way. They'd both make their way back to the ship to grab speeders- or maybe rent a local one, in didn't really matter which- but Nakoa had questions on the way.

"You said it was a Crimson Dawn ship. Are we stealing from them?"

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla shook her head as Nakoa asked if they were stealing from Crimson Dawn, but if the stories from her mother's memoirs were true, they had scavenged it long ago, and Crimson Dawn had fallen apart before it was reformed again.

No, it has not been part of the Crimson Dawn fleet for over a century, she said. In short order, they arrived at a large, mountain-like facility with a massive door leading into the mountain and various people bustling around the area.

Humans seemed to be out in the lead areas, but Arla spotted Ugnaughts scurrying about below the ship refurbishment areas in the gratings that lined the floor.

Can I help you with something? a man asked. He wore a greasy set of coveralls and wiped his hands on a well-used towel that was so covered in grease that Arla doubted he was actually getting anything off of his hands anymore so much as he was just smearing it around.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

"Then who are we stealing from?" Nakoa asked conversationally. It might help to actually know. Knowing Singh- as Arla did- he was asking for some combination of planning and plain curiosity.

When the man showed up, Nakoa judged him. Nakoa judged him and the way he cleaned his hands, staring at them for a half-second. Only a little micro-expression gave it away- the way his eyebrows crinkled slightly and his lips twitched downward. What was even the point of that towel?

Amber-golds flicked back up to the man's face, the Wrean's expression quickly recovering to form the most generic professional facade known to the galaxy. "We're checking on work order three-seven. Would you kindly-?" "Off limits," the man brusquely interrupted. A flicker of irritation passed over Nakoa's face.

Either the Wrean was burning out from his charming act unusually quickly, or that flicker was both unintentional and out of character. "We have a pass-" "Nah, y'don't. No one does." Another irritable twitch of his facial muscles. "Go on break," he said with a sudden snap of authority and a nudge in the Force. "I'm on break," the man said, trundling off elsewhere.

At which point Nakoa walked forward, deciding they'd just find the hangar themselves.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Darth Stolas. He will not be coming to claim it anymore, so it does not even qualify as stealing, she said. She wasn't wrong about that, and that made the job all the easier. They were just reclaiming lost property. Arla wondered if Stolas had had any next of kin. Probably not anyone who could kill either of them.

If Arla had been someone other than Arla, she probably would have laughed when Nakoa just waved the man off and sent him on a break, but instead she gave a little hmph that spoke to her amusement and annoyance that the man had been in their way.

Oh look, he left his work station open, she said, wandering over to the console and beginning to peruse through until she found what they were looking for. Sure enough, it was everything that they were looking for, and the ship was impressive to see.

Look at that, she said. Bay 2, she said. Of course, there were only three bays here with the size of the ships in question, but that led them to the next problem.

Even if the two of us could fly it out of here alone - which we probably can if we hae to - it's not subtle. We should probably secure it legally. Or at least semi-legally, she said. In other words, either posing as the real owners or Force-tricking the person in charge into believing they were Stolas associates. It wasn't... untrue.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa made a face- definitely one of the expressions of all time, although what it meant was a mystery- at the mention of Darth Stolas. Like most Councilors of the time, his common name wasn't even common knowledge. What was known were three facts: A fiery temperament, a propensity for great violence, and being the founder of the modern ISB. On the other hand, he was very, very dead. So dead no one even seemed to know where his grave- or tomb, knowing the Sith- actually was.

Well, whatever. If something happened it could be a fun little game. The Wrean smirked a little at Arla's version of a laugh and decided to try and get something more laugh-like out of her one of these days. Nakoa looked down at the console, observing the ship. It was impressive, even if Nakoa's wasn't exactly the most versed in older ship models.

However- "Flying that will be awkward," he bluntly stated. It was a weirdly shaped ship and larger than he, personally, was used to. Gunships and starfighters? Sure, why not. A vertical yacht was... something. Fingertips tapped absentmindedly against the console table. He abruptly snapped his fingers.

"See if you can find a transfer orders form somewhere."

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla just gave that typical, blank stare in response to Nakoa's face about Darth Stolas. He'd died before she was born, and she'd never actually met the man, though it seemed her mother must have had at least some sort of close or semi-close ties to him. One of many secrets that former-Empress had kept.

She missed her mother, but the thoughts had no place now, and she shoved them down, burying them down deep inside as was appropriate.

She didn't seemed worried about the former-owner now, though.

Yes, she agreed, pausing to actually look at the ship and its construction. She was a passable pilot - good enough to get herself around the galaxy anyway - but she was no master aviator. She wondered if she could get Teecee to download an appropriate program for flying such a ship.

Good idea, she said as he thought to look for the transfer orders. It took about 30 seconds (19/20) before she found what she was looking for.

Here, she said, and although her tone was flat, it was about as excited as if someone else shouted eureka!

Transfer orders complete. We are now the legal owners of the First Light so far as this shipping yard is concerned, she said. Now it was just a matter of walking up, telling the bossman they were taking it, and flying out of here. That was... shockingly smooth and a welcome change.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

An amused smirk settled on Nakoa's face. The man was able to pick up Arla's version of enthusiasm, the subtle difference in tone even if the words were spoken flatly. He copied the transfer to one of the generic datacards stacked nearby and then they were on their way to pick up 'their' yacht.

Things were going well, so Nakoa was still expecting some kind of complication to rear its head sometime soon. And yet, the "talk" with the boss went so well as to be completely uneventful. Barely five sentences back and forth and they were on their way to the hangar. Nakoa got the impression the dockmaster was tired of housing and maintaining a large yacht for the last twenty years. Easy so far.

They were greeted by the magnificent sight of the First Light as they walked in through the holding hangar entrance. It'd obviously been well cared for after its refurbishment, the exterior plating shiny and new despite being in the older style the ship was known for. The ship itself would cost an astronomical amount of money if purchased outright. Brand new ships of this class were expensive even to very wealthy individuals, and vintage models only went up in overall value if they were known or infamous.

Yet, Nakoa's face tensed, lips pressed together with a degree of discomfort as they approached the ship. He made no comment, however, fixed his face for the most part, and handed the controls/key fob over to Arla.

"Do the honors?"

@Phoenix