Tribal Catastrophe on Hoth
Though, Drace wasn’t fond of her traveling solo. The needed peace that Paislee found was well rewarded. After all, meeting the demands of a highly favored Darth and Master, Bismillah Mag’yar was no cakewalk. The past weeks were quite stressful. The only thought that committed to memory was the night Darth Emi’thiss vanquished into thin air. Of course, it had to be the night that Lord Valyereon argued with her. Seeing Darth Drace so despondent that evening, only left a metallic taste in her mouth. She was barely 3 weeks pregnant and was more than eager to be reunited with her mother again.
Paislee’s starship hovered over the planet’s surface right above the landing pad. Once landed, she came down the ship’s ramp. Glistering white, the snow-covered everything in sight. She took a deep breath as the cold weather hugged her winter gear.
“Lord Singh, great to have you on Hoth,” the Imperial soldier greeted her.
“Save the formalities. I require a good working speeder. Your finest, of course.”
“Yes, my Lord. At your request.”
With that, she flew out towards the Whiterock Wastes. The journey was long and frigid but the possibility of seeing her mother kept her heart warm inside. Hoth’s winds gusted across her masked face blowing her hood back. She gripped the handles and picked up the pace. Just tucked on the side of the road stood a cave as she came closer to her designation. She stopped for a second to guzzle down some water. Removing her helmet, she raked her short hair, tighten her dark leather belt, and gave herself a look in the speeder’s mirror. Her nimble fingers lightly traced her facial scars and circled her dark eyes. It has been 18 years since her mother’s eyes fell on her.
It was time. She packed up and finished getting ready to go around the corner. As she drifted into view beyond the ice cliff. Groups of tribal Echani stood around a cape may cobblestone gray starship with highlights of a Prussian blue. Paislee held back her first emotion as she hopped off the speeder. The group at first stood defending before being divided into twos by a half-masked older woman with long thin grayish-brown hair. When she came closer, the woman walked slowly as did Paislee. The whispers from the winds tunneled in the small of her ears, and each step she took crunched against the snowy surface.
“Y’ai. Ve’lo. ”(You. My love.)
“Mother!”
“Paislee!”
The two rushed to embrace but Nemai pressed gently against her. They held onto each other for a while before pulling back. Nemai’s hazel and silver eyes twinkled over her daughter’s features; however, Paislee humbly lowered her head as to what she had become. Her mother felt different and tilted Paislee’s head back up higher.
“Don’t ever be ashamed of who you’ve become.”
Her eyes fell to the innocent unborn child as her presence picked up on it. Nemai smiled eager and excited. She looked around and then led Paislee aboard the ship. Half of the Echani remained stationed out in the area.
“Have a seat, Pais. How far along are you? Let me guess, almost a month.”
“Barely, but yeah. Is it obvious?” Paislee blushed embarrassed.
“You’re barely showing,” Nemai giggled and then motioned to Paislee.
Paislee stood up and then Nemai led her in front by her wrists. The pressure from touch was enough to cause Paislee to hiss. Nemai examined her wrists.
“What happened here?! Tazal, come quickly!”
“Mom, please. I’m okay, I promise you.”
A tall, sturdy, and muscular man whose complexion was paler than Paislee’s rushed to see what was wrong. Paislee eyed him over as she stood in place.
“Someone is harming my daughter!”
“Jaria? But she's back home safely. Wait, Paislee?”
Tazal performed a display of respect toward Paislee before standing to greet her again. Nemai smiled at them, her eyes still held concern.
“It is an honor to meet you, Paislee.”
“Same to you, Tazal. Mom, the doctor I see is a renowned scientist from Corellia. I’m fine.”
“Paislee, you will have to take precautions. Echani clans still see you as a threat. Wait a minute, where is your pendant?! Did you take it off? Why?”
“Uh, yeah well I didn’t think I need it. Nothing bad happened so, I took it off a while ago.”
Tazal and Nemai wore an expression of shellshocked. Nemai looks to Tazal for a bit before scurrying to the locker. She grabbed a tin can with leaves of Echani Red tea and a backup amulet. Coming back towards her daughter, who looked puzzled by what was going on, Nemai reached for the glass and poured hot water from the earthen-stone kettle. Tazal put the amulet over Paislee’s head, but she blocked his motion and questioned her mother.
“Pais, not now. Put it on. Tazal, hurry.”
Tazal placed the amulet on her, then headed to the exit of the ship. Turbulence, then shook the ground and vibrated the ship's interior. Nemai gave the tea to Paislee.
“What’s going on here? Mom, tell me.” Paislee reached for her saber.
“Shush. Hurry, drink this for your child.” Nemai placed her hand on Paislee’s and discouraged her.
Echani blades clashed as Tazal came from the ship’s entrance to greet the leader of the bandit of Echani. There stood an Echani similar in shape and size, though his features were much softer than Tazal’s. Blue paint detailed the highlight of his cheekbone and jawline.
“Bre’thro Tazal.” (Brother)
“Bre’thro Bithrai.”
Bithrai’s eyes scanned the ship before he could look further Tazal confronted him again. Bithrai turned to his men, before nodding and waving them off. The two clans held their defensive position before being waved off by both.
“You know it is illegal to harbor a half-bred, bre’thro.”
“Bithrai, you speak stories. I harbor no such ill intent to my people.”
“Tn’on bre’thro vi. (Don't bother me.) You speak lies! Sazir’s death still warrants merit. Let me search for myself then.”
Soon as Bithrai stepped forward it became hard for each side to remain stationed. Their movement was unsteady. Tazal stood aside and welcomed him to the ship’s ramp. Nemai sensed Bithrai’s presence. Paislee finished up the tea and fell under a trance of sleep. She placed a cover on top of her. Though her sleep was deep enough to cause her unconscious, she heard their conversation clear. Nemai’s face remained stoic and temperamental. Bithrai greeted Nemai, then look down in disgust at Paislee. He examined her closely then his eyes darted back to Tazal.
“Lies, I knew it!”
“This is an outsider, Bithrai. We are neutral here. Let us nurse this soul back to health.”
“Hmm a Sith Lord. Well, you have always been the type to care about others. I despise you for that.”
Bithrai kept staring at her and scanning her over. He then looked at Nemai drinking tea. Tazal crossed his arms and stood next to Nemai. Bithrai fixed his rugged collar and Varactyl feather earring. The more he stood there the more he grew disgusted at the scenario.
“Very, well. I will remain here until another signal goes off. Deal with this repulsive thing.”
Bithrai and his men headed out and flew to another area. Tazal men took Paislee’s speeder aboard and her belongings. Tazal had the ship flown to the outskirts of the Imperial base from the Northside. With a small tribal ritual, Nemai broke the trance held over Paislee. She smiled warmly, but it was short-lived as the two of them couldn’t be together for long at this moment. It took some time for her to come fully to the remaining of her senses. The light humming of the ship caused her eyes to peel open. The cream color decor and pastel couches surround her but the scent that wafted throughout the ship contrasted against it and tickled her nose hair. The knitted Wampa cover slid down to her small waistline. She rubbed her head and then cradled her small barely visible bump. Before she could get up, the fragrant smell greeted her. Nemai placed a plate of her native food.
“I know you have a lot of questions, so I'm going to let you ask me them now. Hurry we don't have much time left here.”
“I thought you died alongside father. I even attended the funeral.”
“The year you were 12, your father knew well we couldn't keep you a secret for long. Remember the trip I refused to let you go with me? Well, Ren, your father, made the greatest sacrifice for us. I sent a replacement, Kushna, back to Alderaan that night.”
Paislee mentally assembled her mother's words. Once she did, tears of regret gushed along her waterline. She knew something felt weird that night. From her mother being too tired to see her daughter to wearing full hooded gowns. Even when growing up on Kaas, her cries weren't of mourning a loss but that of separation. The area reeked of silence even the ship's humming and panels chirping became soundless. Nemai placed her hands against each other eventually intertwining her fingers together. It was easy to keep living for her daughter but the pain of losing Ren remained a constant struggle for the majority of her life.
“I have time for one more question. Make it good, Pais.”
The sweat caked in between her fingers as the hollow of her breath expelled from her chest. She fidgeted with her thumbs together and occasionally picked at her thumbnails. Rather than waste the time left in absolute silence, Paislee raked back her hair and tilted her head back. When she spoke her throat grew scratchy, and her voice trembled.
“Why can’t we be together?! Will you be there for your grandchild? I miss you dearly, please tell me.”
“I know this is hard for you to hear, Pais. We might be together but I can’t risk losing you or my grandchild. I make no promises but I do have hope that in time we will be one. Just promise me to be safe for now. You’re going to be a wonderful mother. We have to depart from here.”
Before she took her to leave her mother’s ship, Nemai and her stepfather Tazal passed on to her some flora and tea, a small amulet for her child, and a hot meal to take home. Paislee put her winter gear on and traveled further to reach the Imperial base. Tears still pooled along with the interior of her goggles, which caused her eyes to flutter as her vision blurred a bit with dewdrops on her eyelashes. Even her unborn child felt the same emotions just as intensely as she did. It was short-lived but she still kept thinking about how to undo this tribal catastrophe.
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