Private Advice Needed

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit:
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link,
Weal & Woe, Kor'ethyr Robes

​

With an increasing confusion and pent up energy forming inside him regarding recent events, Naamino felt the need to call upon his friend's guidance. Gavin Vel was obviously more worldly than he was and had more lived experience in general. Surely the young man would be able to make sense of some of the things that had been weighing on his mind of late. So the zabrak teen had invited his brother in arms to a workout, so they could test out some saber forms- maybe spar a bit and to hopefully chat.

 

[Gavin Vel]

Things had changed since Gavin first joined the Academy all those months ago. Back then, he was a shadow of the man he had become, walking the halls like an outsider who didn’t quite belong. The Force had been an enigma to him, a power he couldn’t grasp, and it made him feel more like an outcast than a future Sith. He was just a blunt instrument, unrefined and out of place. But now? That was different. The Gavin Vel who stalked the halls of Korriban today carried himself with an air of arrogance and bravado that would make even his former self from Nar Shaddaa look modest. He wasn’t the strongest on Korriban—he knew that—but he was undeniably one of the most notorious Acolytes in the Academy. Everyone knew his name, especially after his performance on Ozzuk Thren.

And Gavin made damn sure everyone knew about it. If he wasn’t notorious before, he certainly was now. Everywhere he went, whispers followed. Cowards and sycophants alike would approach him, wide-eyed, asking about his exploits on Ozzuk Thren. “What was it like? How did you manage it?” they’d ask. Of course, Gavin never told them the truth. He never mentioned the chaos, the missteps, or the moments he barely scraped by. That wasn’t the story he wanted told. Instead, he spun a grand tale of dominance, control, and showmanship. “I could’ve killed them all much sooner,” he’d boast with a sly grin, “but where’s the fun in that? Had to give them a show.”

Yet, despite the arrogance and bravado that defined him, one thing had remained constant since the day he arrived on Korriban—his feelings toward Naamino. Gavin didn’t dwell on it much, but somewhere deep down, he knew he viewed Naamino as a brother. They had forged their bond on the same battlefield, their destinies entwined from the moment they stood against impossible odds together. Gavin felt like Naamino was one of the only people who truly got him. More than the sycophants. More than even their master, Darth Reign. It was an affection he couldn’t fully explain, and truthfully, he didn’t want to. He didn’t need to. All he knew was that Naamino’s presence grounded him in a way nothing else could.

So when Naamino asked for a sparring session, Gavin had jumped at the opportunity. He needed to refine his form—Djem So—and sparring with someone he trusted was the perfect way to do it. When Gavin arrived at the training grounds, he spotted Naamino waiting for him. In typical Gavin fashion, he couldn’t resist making an entrance.

"My tiny little friend!" Gavin’s booming voice filled the training area as he strode in, his arms spread wide, a cocky grin plastered across his face. He carried two training sabers, one in each hand. “You’ve come to train with the superstar that is Gavin Vel after my heroic battles on Ozzuk Thren?” He was clearly jesting, his tone exaggerated and theatrical. Naamino, as usual, could see through the bravado, but Gavin didn’t care. This was how he expressed himself, after all.

Without hesitation, Gavin tossed the spare training saber toward Naamino with a casual underhand throw before walking up to him. “Heard you got into some fun on the planet as well,” he said with a sly smirk, holding out his arm for a handshake. “Though probably not as cool as me, obviously."

The smirk turned into a genuine grin as Gavin waited for Naamino’s response, his massive frame towering over the Zabrak, but his demeanor—at least in this moment—was warm and welcoming. Here, in the training grounds with his closest ally, Gavin Vel didn’t feel the need to put on a show. Well, not much of one, anyway.

Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link
Weal & Woe, Kor'ethyr Robes

​

The human's approach made him smile despite himself. Always a rather serious boy, Naami couldn't help but feel a bit more rowdy when he and Gavin Vel were spending time together. He met the handshake with a firm grasp of his own then thumped the hilt of the training saber into the center of the man's chest for good measure. Naami's new tattoos were all but healed though they might still appear foreign on his young face. The teen rolled his eyes and broke from the warm gesture, pushing him away in much he same way a younger brother shoos off an older. In truth, Naamino felt just as strongly about his loyalty for Gavin as his peer seemed to feel for him.

"Whatever man. I've seen you when the camera-droids are off don't you forget. And I've gotten you twice with a collapsing chair prank."

The boy smirked and shrugged off his outer robe, giving way to the sleeveless fitted shirt beneath. He folded the robe quickly then unclipped the specialty belt Micah tol Powl made for him to rest that and his beloved sabers atop the garment off to the side of where they'd presumably spar. Naamino had been growing like a weed and filling out accordingly. Though he couldn't hope to compete with Gavin's stature at the moment, it looked like he was well on his way to someday matching his friend nearly pound for pound. The boy took a ready defensive stance with the practice saber, not looking to mince words... Except that he could definitely use some advice which he wasn't sure how to ask about.

"Heard about that upcoming dance? Think its like an open diplomatic event coming up."

 

[Gavin Vel]

Gavin smirked at Naamino’s comment and shot back with a quick jab, “I’ve been falling through chairs before you could even sit in them.” He shrugged off his robes, tossing them to the side with a casual flick of his hand. Though the Zabrak was starting to fill out, it was hard for Gavin not to notice how much smaller Naamino still was compared to him. “You’re getting there, Naami,” he teased, flexing his bicep dramatically. “But you’re still about the size I was when I was ten.”

The jest wasn’t meant to sting; Gavin was used to his height being a talking point, and though he wore it like a badge of honor now, he wasn’t always so confident. As a kid, being bigger than everyone else made him a target, and where Gavin grew up, being a target was a fast track to a quick end. He shoved the memories aside as Naamino caught his attention with his tattoos.

"Those tats look even cooler than you described," Gavin said, hopping in place to loosen up. He alternated between legs, bouncing with an energy that radiated excitement for the spar. His eyes flicked to Naamino's markings again, admiration creeping into his voice. "Do you think I could ever earn some of those, or do I have to be, ya know, a whatever-you-are?" He waved his hand vaguely, and for a second, he felt bad for forgetting Naamino’s species again. It wasn’t intentional; Gavin just wasn’t great with details that didn’t involve fighting or scheming.

Before Naamino could answer, Gavin ignited his training saber with a dramatic flourish. "These events, though," he said, gesturing with his blade toward Naamino, "they’re all political. Everything around here has a secondary motive." His voice carried an uncharacteristic seriousness, though it didn’t last long before his grin returned. "They don’t teach us to be killers just for the hell of it."

Without warning, Gavin lunged forward, opening with a powerful overhead strike. He always fought at full force, unable—or unwilling—to tone it down, but he knew Naamino could handle it. The Zabrak’s skill with a blade made him one of the few people Gavin trusted to spar with.

"Darth Caedes, the King," Gavin continued as their sabers clashed, "he profits off us. Why do you think he televises all our outings? Credits, Naami. It’s all about credits. So yeah, that dance is gonna be diplomatic, and I’m gonna wine and dine those rich bastards like a pro." He followed up with a diagonal slash, transitioning smoothly into Djem So’s traditional attack pattern. Whether he had the charm to pull off his grand networking plans was another matter entirely, but Gavin’s confidence didn’t leave room for doubt.

"Who you gonna bring?" Gavin asked mid-strike, his voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity as he pressed Naamino’s defenses with another heavy blow. For all his bravado, Gavin knew Naamino would have an answer that would either surprise him or make him laugh. Either way, he was ready to hear it while keeping up the pressure in their sparring match.

Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

The boy scoffed and gave a scowl at his friend's jibing. He didn't take it personal, that's just how Gavin Vel was but it did motivate him to keep working hard, to keep training and one day make Gavin second guess if he was really the stronger of them. He lit the practice saber from his ready stance as his friend did the same, not letting their chat distract him from the basics. It was good practice really, to banter words a bit while they clashed, making them all the more resilient to Dun Möch and other such tactics. Steely blue eyes watched as he listened, his own stance tightening a bit as he shifted his feet in anticipation.

Naami met the overhead strike with a whirling soresu block that sent Gavin's blade away from his body and allowed Naami to flow into a more aggressive form of ferocity. His time training with Darth Thaliax, battle-master of Kor'ethyr would not go unnoticed. Though the teen was a long way from mastery, his general skills had broadened to the point of being able to switch between tactics much more smoothly.

"Heh thanks," he barked in response to the tattoo compliment while he parried the diagonal slash, trying for an unconventional kick at Gavin's knee before he cantered backward to buy himself a moment to finish the thought, "Gonna get my chest worked on next, you should come."

The man didn't let up though and Naami relished that they were just getting started, warming up with Gav was always a little like punching the throttle to max when you were headed into a blind turn. He really did need to hit Kivah up soon for a proper spar, see if the ripped cathar was much the same or had a different flow entirely.

Dancing a bit, keeping his footwork light, he leapt and lunged with an attempt at a swift flank maneuver before darting back to try something more defensive.

"No offense but if political lessons we're learning about, you certainly aren't high on my list of prospects."

Naami hauled off and fired a fast force blast toward Gavin's feet- attempting to throw him off balance. His skill with the ability having grown significantly more precise in recent weeks.

"Dunno, was thinking Micah was my best bet. Think we're a good team."

The zabrak said it in a way that gave the impression he truly thought this upcoming event was a mission or serious test above all else. It seemed entirely lost on him that a school dance might merely be an opportunity to cut loose, for students to have fun enjoying time with friends. He really was incurably dense sometimes.

 

[Gavin Vel]

Gavin's curiosity was piqued as Naamino explained the tattoos. His fingers itched at the thought of getting one himself. "So I don't have to earn them or anything?" he asked, the words spilling out with a hint of both disbelief and excitement. For someone as confident in his physical prowess as Gavin, the lack of ink was almost surprising. He had never shied away from the idea of tattoos, but the chaos of his life had never left much room for artistry. Now, Naamino's intricate designs ignited a fresh desire.

The clashing hum of training sabers filled the air as the two sparred, each strike and parry reflecting months of growth at the Academy. What had once been a chaotic exchange of brute strength and inexperience had now become a more refined dance. Gavin, focused on mastering Djem So, leaned into its philosophy of relentless counterattacks. When Naamino attempted to flank him, Gavin pivoted sharply, catching the attack with a forceful block and pushing Naamino back with an aggressive disengagement. He smirked as the smaller fighter regained his footing. "You’ve got to hit harder than that if you want to keep me on my toes, little guy."

Naamino's remark about Gavin's suitability for the upcoming diplomatic events drew a hearty laugh. "Then you'd be making the same mistake a lot of dead men on Nar Shaddaa made," Gavin retorted, his voice light but laced with conviction. Switching to a mocking tone, he mimicked the voices of past underestimators. "'Oh, look, it's a big dumb ape who can be controlled! Let’s put him in charge of breaking skulls while we do all the real thinking.' Yeah, that worked out great for them." He let out another laugh, though there was a sharp edge to it—a reminder of how often he’d turned the tables on those who thought themselves superior.

"You see," he continued, blocking another precise strike from Naamino, "plans are great and all, but dead men don’t execute them." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact, and tinged with the confidence of a man who had outlived every self-proclaimed mastermind that had crossed his path.

Naamino’s force push aimed at his legs snapped Gavin back to the present. Recognizing the surge of energy just in time, he leapt back, avoiding the attempt. Though Gavin’s connection to the Force was still rough and inconsistent, he was learning to feel it, to recognize its presence before it manifested fully.

"Micah, huh," Gavin mused as he surged forward, launching a barrage of rapid strikes. His intent was clear—keep Naamino busy, keep him from focusing enough to try that Force nonsense again. "He seems... fun? A little awkward, maybe." Gavin’s strikes came heavier, more calculated, forcing Naamino to stay on the defensive.

But then Gavin’s mind drifted, piecing together moments he’d observed between Naamino and Micah. With a grin, he deflected Naamino’s blade and quipped, "He acts weird around you. Bet he’s got a crush on you. Especially now, with those sweet tattoos." His tone was light, teasing, but he wasn’t entirely oblivious.

Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

"You’ve got to hit harder than that if you want to keep me on my toes, little guy."

A huffing, growly scowl animated his features at the jibe. That kind of thing didn't normally bother him but when Naami was hitting nearly as hard as he could, or as hard as he thought he could without risking getting caught off balance, it irked him. He stayed agile, more nimble on his feet than Gavin Vel but truly not by much. The big man was scary fast despite his bulk, something that had honestly pushed the teen to grow as a combatant at least as much as Darth Thaliax's teachings had.

"Micah, huh," Gavin mused as he surged forward, launching a barrage of rapid strikes. His intent was clear—keep Naamino busy, keep him from focusing enough to try that Force nonsense again. "He seems... fun? A little awkward, maybe."

"He's brilliant," came the quick response as the zabrak spent every ounce of the rest of his focus on blocking- only twice in that barrage was he able to strike back.

"He acts weird around you. Bet he’s got a crush on you. Especially now, with those sweet tattoos."

Naamino went blank for a moment, his guard slipped, his footwork faltered, and a poorly timed parry on his part let Gavin land a glancing blow against his hip. The boy yelped and moved with the glancing hit, diving to the side where he rolled and popped up in a more defensive crouch to ready himself for another onslaught.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He scowled and added,"Who are you bringing then?"

 

[Gavin Vel]

Gavin couldn’t help but laugh as he saw his strike connect, distracting Naamino just enough to land the blow. But he didn’t press the advantage. He straightened up, disengaging his training saber, the grin still plastered across his face. This wasn’t about winning, not today, it was about having fun, and maybe messing with Naami just a little.

"It means exactly what I said," he shrugged, beginning to pace slowly around the room, eyes locked on Naamino. There was something in Naami’s reaction that caught his attention. He filed it away, his suspicions growing. “Maybe I got it backwards,” Gavin added with a wider grin, watching closely to see if his jab landed.

For a moment, he thought about pushing further, digging in just to see how deep Naami’s discomfort went. But then he hesitated. The look on Naami’s face, it hit something in Gavin he didn’t expect. He felt… what was it? Empathy? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. The urge to twist the knife faded, and Gavin decided to back off.

"I'll probably pick someone up there," he said with a shrug, brushing the moment aside. He hadn’t really thought about who to take to the dance. Sure, he flirted here and there, but his focus was always on training and improving himself. “I fought this giant tentacle woman on Ozzuk Thren,” he began, his mind wandering as the memory came back.

“She was monstrous. Fierce, terrifying—she had claws for hands, four arms, and this massive tail that slapped me across the battlefield.” He paused, almost admiring the memory. “If I could find her, I’d take her. We’d be the most frightening couple at the dance. Imagine that,” he said with a chuckle, his tone a mix of amusement and genuine admiration.

But the thought of the Mandalorian beast faded as quickly as it had come. Gavin snapped back to the present, his grin returning as he turned his attention back to Naami.

"Micah sounds perfect. You should ask if they want to go. I know they'd say yes." The smirk on his face was impossible to miss, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. He enjoyed the way the words hung in the air, waiting for Naami’s reaction.

Gavin’s grin widened as he watched the subtle flush creep into Naami’s face. He could see the gears turning, the hesitation, the attempt to brush it off. “Just saying,” he added casually, the smirk still firmly in place. “Life’s short, Naami. Why not go for it?”

Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Naami's slack faced surprise hardened as Gavin continued with his teasing, the teen silently grateful for the temporary reprieve of from his physical onslaught but suddenly prickly about implication he wasn't fully grasping. The zabrak changed his form, swinging the practice saber as if to loosen up a bit and then pulled into a far more aggressive stance. His attack though was waylaid by the words "giant tentacle woman" and he tipped his head as if he'd surely not heard the man right. His friend continued and Naami's confusion deepened. The... most frightening couple? He knew they were Sith, a need to build and maintain a powerful reputation came with the territory. But is that what he should have been factoring in regarding this event and who he chose to bring?

"Speak plainly!" Naami barked as he charged forward, using his shorter stature and relative athleticism to sweep first for Gavin's legs.

"What'd'ya mean by crush?" He flowed with the anticipation to block a coming swing.

In truth he was deeply frustrated by this dancing around the topic. He'd grown up in a colony where relationships were described in utilitarian terms. He wasn't even aware of the possibility that people took to flights of fancy, had no frame of reference for why being around Micah felt so different from spending time with everyone else in his life.

 

[Gavin Vel]

Gavin's grin widened as Naami barked at him, the Zabrak’s sudden shift in stance making it clear the teasing had struck a nerve. He adjusted his own footing, staying light on his feet, prepared for the sweep coming his way. When Naami lunged low, Gavin shifted, narrowly avoiding the strike while spinning into a more defensive posture.

“Easy there, tiger,” Gavin said with a chuckle, parrying a follow-up blow with ease. “What do I mean by crush? It means you like them, Naami. Not in the ‘you’re good at your job’ kind of way. I’m talking about that awkward, fluttery feeling you get when you’re around someone, like you don’t know what to say or do. You know, the fun kind of confusing.”

As Naami pressed forward with another flurry, Gavin shifted his tactics. He blocked one strike, sidestepped another, and disengaged slightly, giving the Zabrak space to breathe but keeping his tone casual.

“Listen, it’s no big deal,” Gavin continued, twirling his training saber lazily. “People like who they like. Doesn’t matter where you grew up or what colony rules you followed. You’ve got instincts, right? Gut feelings? That’s all this is. And honestly?” He smirked, leaning on the teasing just enough to push Naami’s buttons without overwhelming him. “Micah’s not bad-looking. Definitely an upgrade from some of the banthas I’ve seen around here.”

He laughed, though his words held a genuine undertone of encouragement. “Relax, Naami. Just think about it. Or don’t. I’m not your mom.” With that, he dropped back into a ready stance, motioning for Naami to try again.

Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

The emotional barrage and subsequent casual parrying by Gavin Vel was balanced out by the man finally providing more clarity on the topic at hand. Naami was breathing hard through his nose with teeth clenched, but he accepted the momentary reprieve and reset that his friend provided in their duel. Rather than charging ahead, he took a moment to breathe through the torrent of confusion emotions which had been whipped up by confusing but also enlightening information.

"Huh…" he grunted in response, cogs clearly whirring in his mind.

Naami was suddenly struck by a memory, back when he'd first been getting to know Micah tol Powl and the boy had blurted something that seemed out of place in the moment. But now… upon further reflection and with a greater sense of context? Oh boy…

Gavin likely saw the realization dawn on his friend's face, watched as denial crept in alongside it. Naami shook his head like a bantha shaking off flies then squared his shoulders in a ready stance once more.

"Fine, yeah- thanks." He meant it too, he was obviously just going to be sullen about it.

The teen needed to put his frustration somewhere, it felt like his stomach was roiling with darkness and knew if he wanted to get the better of Gavin he'd have to work harder. So he let out a huff and channeled that angst into an ability he'd come along way towards perfecting. Suddenly the young man was faced with two identical copies of the teen. They smirked at eachother in unison, smug at the success, then both turned ice cold gazes at Gavin before launching after him in unified attack.

 

[Gavin Vel]

Gavin smirked as he watched realization dawn on Naami’s face. “There it is,” he said with a smug chuckle. “Took you long enough to figure it out.” He parried Naami’s strikes with ease, his words carrying that same teasing edge. “You know, maybe you should thank me for the enlightenment. Micah’s probably out there planning his love confession now.”

Gavin’s laughter was cut short when Naami summoned afterimages of himself. His cocky demeanor faltered for a split second as the two identical versions charged him in unison. “Oh, you’ve been holding out on me!” Gavin said, swinging his blade wildly at the oncoming figures.

He managed to block one of the strikes but left himself open, and Naami’s second image landed a solid hit against Gavin’s ribs. The larger man stumbled back, laughing through gritted teeth. “Alright, alright, you got me! Didn’t know you had that kind of trick up your sleeve. Who even taught you that? Reign?”

He reset his stance, now more focused and ready to counter Naami’s next move.

Naamino Zuukamano

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Naami barked a laugh in turn, jubilant at catching his larger and arguably far more proficient friend off-guard. He'd been practicing relentlessly and growing fast, but Gavin Vel still had the edge on him by most physical measures. It was difficult for him to hold this technique and still nigh impossible to take anything aside from symmetrical action across both forms but he let Gavin's compliment bolster his resolve. The boy and afterimage nodded, offering explanation as they all reset.

"A bit from Reign, yeah, bit from Thaliax too. Guess its one of my more innate Force abilities. Like your Wrath."

He was certain there was a more technical term for whatever it was that Gavin did in the Force, or whatever it was he called upon in the heat of battle. Didn't matter now though, the man would know what he meant. Naami et al. launched forward with a flurry of Juyo attacks. he took whatever quarter was given. Pushing Gavin to be faster, more resourceful, but soon the zabrak was reminded of the weakness in this particularly ploy. His friend dodged a particularly aggressive swing by one of them and the man landed a square blow against it in turn, revealing it to be the copy when it shimmered then dissipated.

Real Naami, hastily cantered to the side and called upon his agility to take distance from his newly emboldened sparring partner. His breath was still controlled but it was coming more ragged as he managed to clarify something from earlier.

"You do have to earn 'em," he gave a fierce grin as he hefted the training saber into a more defensive form, "The tattoos I mean."

Then he nodded at his friend in that unspoken "bring it" way they had.