“Jus’ imajun us in a sleigh, like the stories you heard as a kid.” Osarla yawned and stretched. The rippling through her arms and obliques felt good, and the crack between her shoulder blades felt even better!
“This is our last outpost anyway. We’ll be here for a bit while we climb back through the corridor.”
Sleepily, the pilot nodded. It was just a shuttle for a few passengers, Osarla and her most trusted companions from the Tortuga Company — Tech, Reporters, and a few others that were seasoned marines of the 222nd. She’d lost so many on Ilum, the ones that survived were near-magnetised to her now.
And she loved this — just her and the soldiers.
Although, she felt a little guilty feeling so
grateful to be among her own battle-minded kind. But only briefly.
She’d asked her Padawan,
Sion Lorray
, to stay on Coruscant. Stay with the crowds, stay with all the emotion. For the first time since she’d rescued him on Lao Mon, he might be saturated in joy — and she didn’t want to take him away from that, and risk the angst at each of the barracks, outposts, and stations she visited through her Life-Day tour.
It was a bad name, Life Day tour. Mostly because it spanned the entire month — and on the actual day, she was…
..here.
In...a red and white outfit that was such a far cry from her typical armour that it was...awful.
Normally, Osarla was proud of her montrals. They were tall, at least a foot above her head, beautiful, and shapely. Right now though, as she wrestled to find a spot where the santa-like hat would sit, they were sort of annoying. The white and red fluffy hat was made for sentients with smooth skulls. And she ended up piercing through the pom pom.
Her pilot handed her a flask
just as she grunted out her frustration.
It was
that sort of unspoken understanding among soldiers, comrades, that made up for not having a family of her own.
“What is it y’all say? —” and then she tried to make her best Rodese sound for
cheers.
The pilot just…nodded and accepted the attempt for what it was. An attempt.
The General grinned, satisfied, and straightened. With another swig each, the pair entered the outpost.
Ridor missed everything Major Ocano said. And…everything Captain Thorne had in kind.
But they were the first two that caught her here. With a gesture, the company that had travelled with her dispersed among the brothers in arms, handing out
randomised communicators with a few jokes.
“Captain, Major,” The General greeted, a sharp toothsome grin flashing through her rose-coloured nose and cheeks (a mixture of the temperature and drink)
“Merry! Life Day!”
She sidled up, using her sheer size to secure a spot near the pair.
“Y’all got a tree out here or..?”