Private Life Day Traditions

[Judah Dashiell]

JOIOL

It was a Life Day tradition for the last twenty years or so ; to go fishing. When Makai was younger, it was always done on Life Day itself. Typically the week before they would have dinner with the Arceneau family, let the kids run amok and exchange a small gift, before he and his son went off to spend time on the ocean. Always a different world. Even last year, Makai had graciously spent Life Day with Myra Arceneau Dashiell early, allowing for the actual Life Day to continue with standard tradition.

What a difference a year could make.

This year Life Day fishing trip wouldn't be on Life Day itself, but a little earlier. This year also marked the first time Balun Dashiell would join in the tradition.A lot of changes but Judah found the time to spend with his sons welcome.

The sailboat drifted along quietly. A new type of boat engineered by Makai's speeder company, their first foray into something different. It was powered by a droid brain with automatic sails. Not the traditional set up Makai preferred but it kept all of them free to fish and spend time together. A 'boys day' outing on the planet as it were.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Apparel: X.
Present Company: Judah Dashiell & Makai Dashiell .

Balun leaned against the sailboat's starboard railing, the salty sea breeze tousling his hair. In his right hand, he idly spun a battered cigarra packet, the faint crinkle of its foil punctuating the rhythmic lapping of waves against the hull. His gaze drifted over the shimmering water, unfocused and distant, as though searching for something just beyond the horizon. But his thoughts were miles away, tangled in the unresolved emotions of that last night with Nouqai Veil—the night everything had changed.

He hadn't spoken to his father or Makai about it, though he suspected they already knew. Nouqai's absence the next morning had been conspicuous, and Balun's own restless demeanor did little to mask the turmoil within him. Whatever had unfolded between them wasn't something he was ready to unpack, even with those closest to him.

The weight of his mood sat heavily on his chest, tinged with guilt. This trip was supposed to be a rare moment of peace, a chance to reconnect with his family. He had almost opted out, not wanting to risk dragging their spirits down with his brooding. But Makai's infectious energy and their father's steady presence were exactly what he needed, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. They were his anchors in a world that suddenly felt adrift, and he clung to them quietly, resolving not to let his melancholy spoil the trip.

Balun flicked open a lighter, the flame briefly illuminating his furrowed brow as he lit the cigarra now perched between his lips. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling slowly, the plume dissipating into the open air. He'd stopped hiding the habit in recent days, smoking openly despite knowing it might draw disapproval. Still, there were lines he wouldn't cross—Myra and the kids would never see him like this. That, at least, felt important to preserve.

For now, he stood alone with his thoughts, the cigarra a fragile comfort as he tried to navigate the uncertainty that had taken root in his heart.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

It wasn't unusual to smell cigarra smoke around his father. He had grown up with his father and Danger Arceneau smoking, often taking the opportunity to light up at business functions or after a meal. For him, it was a comforting smell, the sweet smoke reminded him of home. Of travelling with Danger as a young boy and seeing how Arceneau was run, asking every question he could think of that he couldn't ask his father.

So it was unusual for him to see someone else lighting up, in this case Balun Dashiell .It was odd to him to see how alike his father and Bale really were. It brought to mind the debates of nature versus nurture and what play upbringing had in personality and habits over the long term. Something had happened to his little brother but Makai hadn't said a word. He had a few ideas but none were his business to pry into. If Bale wanted to talk then they had all day to do so - wasn't as if anyone could overhear in the middle of the ocean.

"Someone really takes after Dad and I don't think its me."

He paused, standing back a few feet, not wanting to encroach. Makai knew all too well about wallowing in misery of any sort - he was the type that tended to do it alone.

"If uh...if you want to talk or just hang out I'll be at the stern. Going to toss out some crab pots too, just to see if we get anything. No pressure, just letting you know."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Balun took a slow drag from the cigarra, the glowing tip flaring against the salty breeze, his gaze fixed on the waves rhythmically slapping against the yacht's hull. The ocean, vast and unyielding, mirrored the emotional storm churning within him. He exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate into the air, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice calling his name.

Makai Dashiell 's tone was warm and steady, a lifeline cutting through Balun's swirling thoughts. Turning away from the sea, Balun's lips curled into a practiced smile, a fleeting effort to mask the chaos inside. It was good to see his brother—really, it was—but that warmth couldn't fully extinguish the lingering ache from the abrupt and brutal ending to his time with Nouqai Veil.

"Thanks, brother, but I got it," Balun replied, his voice even but tinged with unspoken gratitude. Makai's offer to be a listening ear meant the world, but vulnerability wasn't something Balun gave freely, not even to family. Despite how close they had become, there was still a gap he couldn't bridge. His father's sharp critiques of the Jedi hung in the recesses of his mind, a shadow cast from their first meeting. And Makai, with his own life brimming with responsibilities, didn't need more weight to carry.

The Life-Day fishing trip—something they'd both been eagerly anticipating—deserved to remain untouched by Balun's personal turmoil. He wouldn't let himself be the one to sour the moment they'd been planning for days.

"Crab pots sound good, though," Balun offered with a hint of forced levity. "Maybe you can show me a trick or two?" He pushed himself off the railing, using the movement as a way to shift the conversation—and his thoughts—away from himself.

Taking one last drag from the cigarra, he flicked the stub overboard, watching it vanish into the frothy waves below. The sharp scent of tobacco lingered as he stepped toward Makai, gesturing for him to lead the way. "Let's get to it," he added, his tone lighter now, as if willing himself to embrace the distraction his brother provided.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Not the type to pry if not needed, Makai wasn't going to ask any follow up questions or push. He had placed the offer out there and Balun Dashiell would come to him if he felt so inclined. At the very least his brother seemed willing to come and spend time with him at the stern and begin fishing.

"I hope that when we invited you to come that you didn't think we weren't fishing. You've fished before? Or spent time our on the water?"

He was hoping to turn the conversation to something different. In many ways, they were still feeling each other out in some ways. Makai couldn't imagine living life without his brother now. Balun was an interesting character and in some ways, very much like his father. The half-Galan was beginning to see he was more like his mother than first thought.

"No tricks. Although Dad might have some different techniques for the actual fishing. He goes out more than me currently - I don't mind just typically when I'm on the water I'm sailing."

Ambling back to the stern, Makai spotted his father hunched over the crab pots, repairing some rope.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Focused on repairing the larger holes where crabs could easily escape, he didn't hear the two boys until they approached closer, catching his eye. Tying off a length of rope, he straightened, trying to stretch his back. Oceanic gaze took in the pair, taking in the expressions of the two. Something was going on with Balun Dashiell but he hadn't figured out what just yet. Mentally he had narrowed it down to Jedi trouble or girl trouble.

"Nice of you two boys to come and finally help your old man. Fixed now, Makai. Both can be tossed in and we can circle back tonight and snag them. I'll be sure to mark them down on navigation." Judah stretched a little more, focused on Bale. "First fishing trip. Hopefully many more after this, that is if you don't get scared away."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

"Oh, of course." Balun's response came with a half-smirk, a scoffing laugh slipping out as though it was absurd his brother had even needed to ask. The entire point of the trip was to fish, after all—a chance for the boys of the family to spend time together: Balun, Makai, and their old man. Despite the hollow ache he carried from how things had ended with Nouqai—so close to this time of year, no less—Balun was genuinely glad to be part of the tradition.

"I've done a bit of fishing over the years, yeah," he added as they began making their way across the yacht, footsteps thudding softly against the deck. "Off the coast, from a vessel… I've used rods, traps, cages—even a speargun once." His tone carried a casual confidence, though his eyes shifted now and then, betraying the heaviness that lingered beneath the surface.

As they rounded a corner, Balun's gaze landed on their father, Judah Dashiell, who was already hard at work with the crab pots. Balun blinked in mild surprise; he hadn't expected to see him just yet, assuming their father was busy elsewhere. Apparently, he'd been right—Judah was always busy.

"Hey, Dad," Balun greeted, forcing a smile as they approached. Judah's sharp comment about their late arrival landed with ease, the kind of ribbing only a father could deliver. Balun shot a glance toward Makai, grinning despite himself. The banter came naturally among the three of them—boys being boys, teasing as much as they bonded.

"We figured we'd better come and help you, yeah," Balun replied, his grin widening. "Although those pots look pretty beaten up. We were worried you might screw them up, but looks like we're too late." His voice carried a playful jab, the kind that made it clear this was exactly where he wanted to be—sharing in their familiar camaraderie.

This was why he needed the open water. The salt-tinged air, the rhythmic slap of waves against the hull, and the easy company of his brother and father. Out here, distractions were plentiful, and the weight of his troubles felt a little lighter. The loss of what he'd had—of what might have been—still lingered, but being here reminded him there was still joy to be found, still a life worth living.

Judah Dashiell & Makai Dashiell​

 

[Makai Dashiell]

"I've done spear fishing before as a teen, when I lived on Dac. I really enjoyed it. Haven't done it since I lived there but maybe in the future you and I can try our hand at it again. Its intense, you know? A real workout and that's coming from someone who can swim well."

As his father spoke, he and Balun Dashiell shared a look, as if to say of course. His father had been dispensing more of his old fatherly quips. Dad jokes. Little barbs. A sign things had improved since last year. There was still a weight there but it had either lessened or his father had learned to live with it.

Makai suspected a little of both.

"I don't think we'll scare Bale away. in fact I think we're on the cusp of a new tradition ; boys only Life Day fishing trip. Eventually - well, I don't know, I could end up with all girls...but eventually I'm sure the next generation of Dashiell men will join in as well."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

If there was one thing Judah did expect about having two sons was how quickly the pair bonded - over torturing him. Concerns had lingered about Balun Dashiell and Makai Dashiell not getting along due to the nature of the situation. Makai was grown, married with his own child on the way. It was a lot to ask to suddenly pivot and be an older brother. As for Bale, Judah was certain it was a stretch for the boy to be part of a family.

"The major holes are repaired. They'll catch plenty if you stop making fun of your father and toss them overboard."

Cleaning up the pieces of rope he had cut, oceanic gaze looked over to Bale.

"So what are you doing on actual Life Day?"

 

[Balun Dashiell]

The idea of going spearfishing with Makai someday lit a spark of excitement in Balun's mind, but he swallowed his reply, mindful not to cut into their father's response. Politeness won out over enthusiasm, and he decided to bring up the idea with his brother later when the moment was right.

Instead, Balun focused on the task at hand. He grabbed one of the crab pots, the rough metal cold against his fingers, and passed it along to Makai before taking another for himself. Turning his attention to Judah, he answered his father's question about Life Day plans with a casual shrug.

"I dunno. Whatever you guys are doing, I suppose," he said, his tone light but without much direction.

The truth was, Balun had no plans at all. Spending time with Nouqai was no longer an option, and with the Tingel Arm Coalition behind him, his life had narrowed to family and work. The thought weighed on him for a moment, but it also felt like the right time to share the news he'd been holding onto.

"I can't remember if I told you guys or not," Balun began, setting the crab pot down as he looked between his brother and father, though his eyes lingered on Judah. "I left the Tingel Arm Coalition. I'm no longer serving in the Aquilian Rangers." His voice was steady, but the weight of the revelation hung between them.

"The Coalition lost the war to the Empire of the Lost and disbanded," he continued. "So, I'm no longer serving in any military capacity."

Balun let the words settle, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he studied his father's reaction. He knew Judah would likely be relieved by the news, the older man's concerns about his sons' safety never far from the surface. This wasn't just an update—it was a reassurance, a way to bridge the distance that sometimes lingered between them.

Judah Dashiell & Makai Dashiell​