Ask [Felucia] A Few too Many Acklay

[Kanan Marek]

Typically, Kanan was a person of few words. Particularly when it came to himself. River was one of the few people he was willing to make an exception for, however, especially at this moment. The Mandalorian warrior needed to stay alert. Given the circumstances, perhaps a light-hearted story was in order, and Kanan would attempt to draw it out as best he could.

“On Yavin 4, where I grew up, there’s a favorite spot the locals like to frequent. It’s called Skygazer Hill, aptly named because of the spectacular view it boasts of the sky. My older brother and his girlfriend visited there quite regularly, and more often than not I would ask if I could tag along with them, but the answer was always the same. I was too young and wouldn’t be able to keep up. Of course as I got older I realized they probably just wanted time alone, but as a five or six year old this was a great affront to my honor. As ridiculous as it seems now, I decided I had to prove myself.”

Kanan fell silent briefly, glancing at River.

“One night, after my mother had put me to bed and I was sure everyone was asleep, I snuck out and made my way through the jungle to the hill,” he continued, lancing over at River every few moments to make sure he was okay.

“The view was as beautiful as it had been on every other visit I’d made with my parents, but somehow standing there alone, it was even more breathtaking. Staring up at the stars with only myself for company, I felt like I was invincible. Like I could do anything, go anywhere. The possibilities were endless.

“That is until I heard my mother’s voice coming from the jungle. Nothing deflates a little boy’s ego like the sound of his angry mother yelling his name. I ran for the nearest Massassi Tree and scurried to the top. Luckily my mother had not seen me, but the Woolamander nesting in the tree certainly had, and it quickly let me know I was not welcome.

“Its echoing call scared me half to death. I lost my grip and fell, breaking my arm when I hit the ground. Worse than that, I’d been discovered by my mother. My little adventure was over, and a very long and drawn out lecture and punishment awaited me. Much more painful and memorable than the broken arm,” he briefly chuckled.

The sun had set and darkness surrounded the two of them as they rode along on the two tee-musses, but the lights of the small village were now coming into view.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Images of his life flashed through her mind as she listened to Kanan’s story. The jungle-ridden planet he lived on, the steep hill he described and the stars it boasted every night. The trace of a smile crossed her lips at the mention of his mother, red-faced and fuming, and she bit back a laugh when he talked about his experience with the Woolamander. Much as she wanted to, her chest felt compressed, and laughter only made her ribs ache.

“Good one,” she managed to say, shooting another invisible smile his direction.

Song didn’t see the lights of the village through the foliage. Didn’t hear the shout of a sentry, or the shuffle of villagers hurrying downhill to see them. She didn’t even feel it when she slipped from her tee-muss, meeting the ground with a hard thud. The blood loss from her leg had been too much, and the Mandalorian collapsed from the sheer exhaustion. Before she slid into the dark, she last remembered Kanan’s voice, then nothing.

Song woke on a cushioned bed. Her leg had been bandaged, the white stained with dry blood. On instinct, her hands shot to her face, and she was relieved to find her helmet was still on, and so was the rest of her armor. A low breath escaped her, and she looked around the room. The first thing her eyes went to was Kanan, seated not far from her.

Whether or not he had just arrived in time for her to wake, or had been waiting the whole time, it didn’t matter.

Before she could speak, a splitting headache followed, and she pressed a hand to her temple. She murmured a curse in Mando’a. “Where am I?” she asked, eyes straining on her surroundings, as confused as she was sore, but a part of her already knew the answer. She just had to be sure she wasn't dead.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

River had sat upright atop his tee-muss, shoulders straight with all the pride of a Mandalorian and the determination of a warrior for much longer than Kanan had expected. Despite the blood loss and the pain, River did not give in to the urge to close his eyes. To lose consciousness and all awareness of pain and slip into a reprieve, however brief it may be.

Kanan supposed he should no longer be surprised by anything the Mandalorian pulled out of his sleeve. From the back alleyway where the two of them had first met and first fought, to the desert canyon where they had captured Duermo, to the Felucian cave full of Acklay, River was a one man show of strength, endurance, and quick intelligence.

Initially, the Felucian’s reaction to the two tee-musses approaching the village, and more importantly their two riders, was shock. Complete and utter shock that this Mandalorian and Sector Ranger were returning. That the jungle, the Acklay had not claimed their life as it had the others before them.

Shock swiftly turned to elation as reality sunk in. The return of the Mandalorian and Sector Ranger could mean only one thing—they need no longer fear the Acklay. With smiles that could be seen even in the dark, the villagers ran to greet the two riders.

No sooner had River slipped from consciousness and hit the ground with a thud than he was carried off by four small Felucians and taken into a nearby hut. Kanan was given no opportunity to lend a hand or check on the well-being of his friend as he himself was ushered from his tee-muss and to a structure across the street.

The villagers bent over backwards to show their appreciation, and soon Kanan was offered a large variety of food and drink, whatever the grateful villagers could gather at that time of night. As thankful as he was to have a meal before him, the situation and attention made him uncomfortable, and as he was left alone to wash and tend to his wounds, he felt relieved.

When Kanan was finished, he found River. Lying on a bed, presumably asleep. The Felucians had treated and bandaged the Mandalorian’s wounds, their care evident. Kanan seated himself in a nearby chair and waited for River to wake, dozing off himself much of the night.

It was almost light out when River stirred. “You’re back in the village,” Kanan replied quietly. “We made it back last night.” Inching forward in his seat he asked, “How do you feel? Are you in a lot of pain?”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

It was nice to hear his voice again. To see him close by, watching and waiting, the same guardian angel he’d been during their first wild adventure. Flashes of the canyon, the showdown with Duermo, then to Kanan. Him saving her. Nothing had changed since then. Only this time, whenever she laid eyes on him, there was always a strange skip in her chest, like a hiccup that never came.

Song blinked, taking the news in. “Back in the village,” she repeated, as if saying the words would convince her of its truth. “Last night.”

She was flooded with the memories of last night again. Her tumbling from the saddle, Kanan hauling her inside the cramped house, the villagers gathering around them. But with it came another headache, and she grit her teeth staving off the pain.

“Feels like there’s somebody trying to claw their way out of my skull,” she said admittedly, “but I’m good. Better than before, that’s for sure.”

Song slid off the cot, pressed her armored feet to the floor, and rose. She held onto the bed frame to keep her balance, feeling wobbly. Less from the numb pain in her leg, more from the headache. Given a day or two, she’d be back in shape. Largely unscathed, save for the memories of what happened. But it didn’t matter, because she didn’t want to forget.

“You catch any sleep?” she asked him. “You look as bad as I feel.”

That was partially untrue. He never looked bad. She could tell he had cleaned up, returned to his usual, striking self. It made her crave a shower herself, but she could wait.

After a pause, she added, “The villagers. They’re okay?”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

“Perhaps you shouldn’t...” the ranger began to caution, but such a warning would only fall on deaf ears. River was already on his feet, hands clutching to the frame of the bed for support. He was up now, and there was no use trying to get him to go back to bed. Kanan supposed he would do the same in River’s position, so he didn’t say anything. Even though he wanted to.

Watching River for any signs that he might topple over, Kanan stood. “Ouch,” Kanan laughed, genuinely amused by the Mandalorian’s statement regarding his appearance but feigning offense.

“I know I’m not the most pleasant person to see first thing in the morning, but I do have some feelings, you know. And I slept fine,” he added as an afterthought.

Walking over to the window of the hut, he stared out into the dirt street. Some of the villagers were already gathered, awaiting the Mandalorian. As soon as he walked out that door they would relay the news that he was awake to the rest of the village.

“They’re fine,” he answered, turning back to River. “They have quite the feast planned for you. I can’t remember when I last ate so much,” he sighed, his thoughts drifting back to the night before. “I don’t think I can eat any more.” Kanan wondered if he should leave now and avoid being dragged into any further celebrations.

“Are you going to stick around for a bit? Wait for that headache to go down?” he asked the Mandalorian. “You probably need to take it easy for a few days. Let yourself heal.” He cracked a smile. “Not that you’re in the habit of doing what is best for your health.”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“A feast?” she said, her insides curdling. The nausea of waking swept over her, and she lost any desire to eat, at least for the time being. “I don’t think I can stomach anything right now, but I could seriously use a drink.”

She wasn’t lying. Her throat ached and head was pounding, and though Song felt like she had stepped fresh into a hangover, she knew the best way to dispel the pain was a warm glass of spotchka. A taste of home. A chance to celebrate too, after the hard fought journey and the triumph of beating the Felucia jungle.

But she didn’t want to celebrate alone.

“Worried about me, Ranger?” she said, sharing his smile. “Careful, else I’ll start thinking you actually like me.” She liked to think it was a harmless flirt, just teasing, but a part of her genuinely wished that was true. Of course, she had to remember that to Kanan, she was a he, and so far, by the looks of it, he had no idea that was the case.

She continued, “I’m good though. If I can walk, I can leave. My ship’s not far.”

Song paused, drawing out the silence as she considered the other option. “Or I could stick around, have that drink.” She crossed her arms, less to look intimidating and more to hide the fact she wanted to stay. Wanted him to stay. “Depends on if you’re up for it—if you got any more stories to tell.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

On that they were agreed: food was the last thing on their minds at that moment. Kanan because he had been fed more than his fill the night before, and River (he must assume) because of the pain and nausea.

The Felucians were bound to be disappointed, but the real prize had been won, and they were safe for the time being. Though, after his own experience with the planet, Kanan doubted whether anyone could really, truly be safe on the planet of Felucia.

River was set to go, despite the physical setbacks. Their journey on Felucia was over, but River was willing to share a few final moments together before the two parted ways. Kanan was glad to hear it.

“I might have a few stories,” he agreed, smiling.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“Good,” she said. “Tell me everything.”

She flashed another invisible grin, then she pulled back her shoulders, body going tight in an effort to pretend the pain was gone, the ache in her legs no longer there. But as she left with him through the door, celebrated with the waiting villagers, and listened to one of his many stories, the pain did fade. First to a numbing throb, then nothing. She could have blamed the drinks, but she knew what it really was.

After that night, they left. Parting ways was the worst part. Song wanted to see if he had another strange quest brewing, or a bounty hunt she could lend a hand in. Credits didn’t matter, or even the adventure. Just the entertainment of his company.

She didn’t love him. Couldn’t say she remotely liked him that way, at least she thought so. Many times, in her hunt for River’s murderer, she felt alone in a galaxy this vast. No family at her back, no friends to stay in contact with. Only one-time allies. Partners by chance, not choice.

She could have tried. Asked. But Song knew she left Mandalore for justice, not love or friendship or adventure. It would weigh too heavy on her conscience to give up now.

That was what she repeated to herself as she stepped into her ship and lifted the ramp, watching Kanan’s face disappear from view. She was thankful to be wearing a helmet, else her pain would be painfully obvious. There would be no more stories on the ride to the next planet. Nothing ahead but empty stars, her on a road to revenge.

end of thread.​