The Sanctity of Marriage

[Joza Perl]

Jungle moon of Va’art​

This probably wasn’t the best idea. This probably was the almost worst idea considering the circumstances Joza had found herself in. She was 25 weeks pregnant, technically married to a man who was not the father of her child, and had asked said husband to meet her in the Roche asteroid field. Today’s goal? Kill a taozin, tell Alkor that she’d violated the sanctity of their awkward marriage and not end up with any severed limbs, head included.

“You’re an idiot.” Ivan declared, hanging the upper half of his body languidly across a control panel as he watched Joza prepare. He eyed the saber hilt at her waist. “You know those things can’t be killed by sabers, right? Or blasters, for that matter.” He took a drag of his cigarette, held it for a moment, then turned his head to the side and exhaled smoke before Joza could scold him.

“Uh, yes, I knew that.” The pink skinned woman shot back, brandishing a phrik blade and waving it around as if it were a toy. Ivan cringed. “I hope this husband of yours knows his way around a blade. For your sake. And, you know.” He waved a hand towards her stomach. “Are you even wearing armor? Also, are you aware of the fact that you have a child inside of you?” The woman was wrapped in a simple dark cloak she often used when she needed to conceal her vibrant appearance.

“Again, yes.” She held an arm out, letting the sleeve of her robe fall down to reveal the cuff of the ultra-light dancer’s bodysuit armor. There was a pause between the two.

“If you die, do I get your stuff?”

Sheathing the blade, Joza adjusted the fabric of her cloak and patted her stomach and hissed. “No.” Ugh, she should have never told him about this husband thing. As aloof as he appeared, Ivan had an unexpected ear for drama. “I’m probably not even going to die, you know.” She insisted, smoothing back her hair. Probably. Right?

Ivan nodded solemnly. “Okay. But if this husband doesn’t show, are you still going to go after one of those things?” He lifted a free hand in the air to quote the word husband. He didn’t seem entirely convinced of their relationship but entirely amused by it.

“Yes. Shut up. Probably. Look, just be quiet okay?” Sending a hand through her hair, the flustered Zeltron let out a huff. Anxiety was a Bith.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"You know that your magic powers don't work on these things, right?" Asha stared hard at Alkor as he slipped into the bodyglove, and her eyes lingered on some of the more brutal wounds that she had not noticed when he wore the ragged clothes of his former life. She reached out to touch the painful-looking bruises, scars, cuts, and blood, but relented just short of the contact. When she looked up, his eyes were on her. "Jetiikad, even blasters- nothing that focuses energy to deal damage can wound these things. It limits you to real fighting," she said as her eyes fled from his.

"That was the intention of this exercise," he iterated. "Warmarshals Halo and Ticon were adamant that I learn the culture thoroughly, and insisted that this hunt would be perfect for testing my skills as a combatant. Terentateks, Taozin, Ysasalmir- next they will want me to bare-back wrestle with a Vornskyr."

Her face lit up like a saber, flushed bright red. "N-n-n-naked!?" she stammered. "I don't think-"

"It was a joke, Asha," Alkor stated calmly as he zipped the bottom-most layer of his armor up. Just shy of skin tight, the bodyglove was sealed to afford him an extra layer of protection against both weaponry and the elements. Beskar'gam was designed with utility in mind, after all. "Ha ha."

The Mandalorian woman blinked. "Are you screwing with me, vod'ika? she hissed, a tight smile twisting her features. "You'd better remember who is flying you back to Echoy'la."

"Implying that I cannot procure a ride back from [member="Joza Perl"] renders your statement subject to the fallacy of belief in the full proof nature of your argumen-"

"Can you switch of Droid mode for ten minutes?" she muttered. The woman helped fit the armor over his jumpsuit and fastened the plates securely. Eventually, he would learn to do all of this without help. For now he had Asha. She was glad for it, even if he was a bit of an idiot. "So, how do you know this woman, and why did Keira volunteer you to help her with this hunt? There's got to be more to it than you're saying."

"...Keira deceived us into saying marriage vows. By Mandalorian law, she is my wife."

"Your what?" the blonde woman stared blankly at Alkor, unsure whether he was trying to tell another uncharacteristic joke. She realized after several moments that he was not. "No," she shook her head, "nope, I'm going to call Keira. We're going to fix this. It's- she's not even a Mando."

"Your emotional state is erratic," Alkor observed. "Anger, confusion, and- another strange sensation. I have encountered this before, but cannot place it. You seem-"

"Stop that," she turned away from him and folded both arms across her chest.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Reading my feelings. Those things are private. Just because you can use the Force doesn't make it alright." Alkor tilted his head, but Asha continued. "You understand how I feel, right?"

"I am aware of your emotions," he corrected, "but I do not fully understand them. If you wish to enlighten me, I would be glad to listen to what you have to say."

"Do you care?" she asked. "And not just, you know, about placating me? Do you genuinely care to know how I feel?"

Alkor took his buy'ce in both hands and stared into the T-visor for a long moment. What a cruel question she asked. Did Asha know what it meant to ask him that? No- perhaps she was just as ignorant as she thought he was. "Asha," he said quietly. "I do not care about anything."

She froze. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, and she took him by the chin. "Look at me when you tell me, what the hell do you mean?"

"I do not understand how to care." Alkor matched her faltering gaze with an unwavering one of his own. "I have never cared. I do not say this maliciously, but with great regard for your emotional well-being. These things that you feel- they are wasted on a killer like me."

The woman closed her eyes and her hand unfurled to cup his cheek. "The fact that you would say something like that tells me that you might not understand, but you're not as dumb as you think you are." Alkor glanced down Asha's arm, then blinked in surprise as she pulled back and slapped him.

The Corellian exile blinked. Lancing pain burned through his cheek. "Did you feel that?" she asked.

Alkor nodded.

"That's what it feels like when you mess with a girl's heart. Don't do it." He watched her turn away, half stunned that she would strike him and half confused about her meaning. One thing was certain- he understood pain, and now, he understood better what Asha felt.

Alkor pulled the buy'ce over his head and the HUD came to life in front of his eyes. Soon, he would meet with Joza for the first time in months. Why she needed a Taozin, though, was anyone's guess. It was a personal request, and Keira had handpicked him for the job.

That woman was a Neverending font of spite.

"Hey, shabuir," Asha called as he headed for the ramp. He turned his head slightly. "Don't go dying."

Alkor grunted quietly, then turned to head for Joza's position. "We can have a long talk about feelings when you get back," she added.

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked her.

"You wanna get slapped again?" she replied.

He just did not understand.

 

[Joza Perl]

“If this ship smells like smoke when I get back, you’re going out the airlock.” Joza pointed heavily at Ivan, who only inhaled slowly from his cigarette. Taking his sweet time, the pilot tilted his head back and blew a huff of smoke towards the ceiling. His head slowly tilted back down to meet Joza’s piercing gaze. It was the sort of expression she wore when she sincerely meant something, but Ivan had become good at calling her bluffs. One does not spend so much time in hyperspace with the Zeltron and not learn her little nuances.

“Assuming you’d manage to get us into space, that is.” A grin started to spread across his face, but he reigned it in just as quickly. Joza Perl was terrible at flying, hence Ivan Volek. The woman was annoying, but aside from the banter she wasn’t too bad. Paid him good, and could cook surprisingly well. All in all, it was an alright gig.

Joza clicked her tongue. “I’d watch what you say, Ivan. I’m full of surprises.” It was Joza’s turn to acquire a Cheshire grin, knowing full well that her quick thinking had gotten them out of a multitude of sticky situations. Or so she thought. The woman had to give herself credit for some things, right?

“I’d say that you are.” Leaning back, the Corellian’s feet rested on the control panel as he gestured towards her stomach with his cigarette hand. Smoke wafted in the empty space where it had been and Joza just growled. She’d become defensive over any faintly negative notion concerning her unborn child.

“Don’t get too comfortable, wermo. This won’t take long.” Stalking down the ramp, Joza felt her demeanor change as the humid jungle air hit her. Alone, with her husband, in the jungle. Alone. She’d cheated on him and was now pregnant with an affairs child.

“I’m taking your blaster rifle when you die. The good one, chiesulino.” At the foreign word, Joza’s head whipped back just in time to see the ramp close. She didn’t know what it meant, but she had an idea. Putting Ivan out of her mind, she made her way towards the designated meeting point, shuffling around vines and hacking at them with her blade when necessary. Her nerves startled to tingle now that she was alone and edging her comfort zone. She hadn’t seen Centaris in a while, and frankly she didn’t know where they stood with eachother.

Swallowing thickly, her mind drifted back to the last lover she’d betrayed. Not that she could consider Alkor a lover. Would he become angry? Would he leave? Would he try to hurt her? Would he even care? She had no idea, and for the first time she cursed herself for not getting to know Alkor better before going and getting herself into this mess.

The sound of something else moving through the brush tickled her ears, and her head tilted to catch sight of a beskar'gam clad figure drawing closer.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The telltale movement rattled across his HUD before he ever saw Joza. Her image came up on display to accompany the strange discomfort that permeated the air between them, and Alkor knew instantly that there was more at work than what Ticon initially briefed him on. His mechanical voice croaked, "Joza. You look..." he paused, the helmet cocked to one side, and his scanners did a quick biorhythm check on the Zeltron. Alkor did not know what to make of the readings. He had never encountered someone with such an affliction. "...unhealthy. Are you certain that hunting a Taozin is within the parameters of your current capabilities?"

"Smooth way to talk to your wife, di'kut," Asha crooned in his ear through the silent comm. "And here I thought she was going to get special treatment." Alkor reached up and flipped over the comm, one hand on his helmet.

"Do you mind? This conversation is supposed to be an A and a B."

"Do you mean, 'this is an A and B conversation?" her voice was laced with humor.

"Yes, exactly. Now get out of it." He flipped the comm over and shut Asha out of his HUD, ensuring that the next words between he and the Zeltron woman were actually private. "I apologize," he murmured, "slight mix up. I locked it down." The Corellian reached up and pulled the buy'ce from his head, and messy black hair fell out to frame his ears. It had been trimmed since their last meeting, a near demand from the others to better accomodate his helmet.

"As I was saying," he began again. "This... are you sure about this?"

Asha grumbled as the man locked her out of his communications system, but switched over to a long range comm that was zeroed in to an Echoy'lan frequency. "This... this looks like trouble. Keira? Hey, Keira..."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza was almost surprised at the beskar clad figure that approached her. Of course. She reminded herself. He’s a buckethead. Buckethead. That’s certainly a word that the daughter of a Warmarshal shouldn’t be using, much less thinking. Given the now deteriorating relations between the Crusaders and the Silvers, she was even more detached from the idea of the Mandalorian lifestyle. Still, Joza had a measure of gratitude for Alkor for meeting her like this. Despite the shoddy yet binding marriage vows, he didn’t have to answer her call. But he had, and he was here.

Which was exactly the problem. Her affliction was becoming increasingly difficult to hide. An unflattering, oversized baggy robe might do the trick but Joza owned no such piece of attire. “Uh…” She acted if she had prepared to say something, but Alkor quickly switched his attention to whoever was talking to him inside his helmet. Joza looked on with mild amusement as the brief bickering died down, rolling her lower lip over her teeth for a moment as Alkor took of his helmet. At least now she’d have a better chance at reading his reaction, or so she thought.

“I’m not unhealthy, really. I’m pregnant.” She pointed towards her stomach as if to make a point. “With a baby.” Clarification might be necessary.

“It’s…I’m sorry, Alkor. I’m not sure how this is going to affect you, but I absolutely don’t expect you to take responsibility for him or anything. I’ll be able to support him on my own, raise him and all that…” Her voice drifted, unsure of her own words. Joza had already made up her mind to do her best in raising this child, but it would become increasingly difficult with the rising hostilities towards the Silvers. “Look, I just…I understand if you’re pissed. Not exactly good wife behavior, right?” She spread her hands out to either side before letting them fall heavily. Her face was a mix of dismay and anxiety, like a child who’d been caught doing something wrong by a parent.

“Maybe we should look into the Mando version of divorce, or is that not really a thing?” She tried, wanting to make amends for what she assumed would be a volatile situation. She actually didn’t know what to assume, given the enigma wrapped in eyeliner that was Alkor Centaris. Hopefully he wouldn’t murder her or anything.

Regardless, he didn’t deserve to have this burden placed on him.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"I..." he had heard of this affliction, but the details were largely lost on him. Eversio had mentioned that several of his selectively chosen partners came down with it, and was adamant that it been dealt with in a medical capacity. The former Dark Jedi Master was not sure what to make of it. He wondered if it was lethal? Would Joza be alright? "...am sorry to hear that, Joza. I have heard of this sickness, but never encountered it. What is your prognosis? Will you survive?"

He took a step back and stared at her stomach. "...is it contagious?"

"Holy chit, I knew you were an airhead, but this is ridiculous." Alkor glanced back with venom in his gaze to where Asha stood in the frame of the ship's door. "Ignoring that, you said you wanted a divorce? That's... difficult in our culture. Family is something that we place a lot of stock in. Not that I'm against it- you're a Jetii if the rumors are to be believed. Warmarshal's kid or not, if you choose that life over being Mando'ad, I hardly want to see one of my vode married to you."

"Asha, that is enough," Alkor stared harder at her, and she took a step back with her hands up in surrender. As he turned back to [member="Joza Perl"], Asha gave the man a dirty look. "I apologize for my comrade's lack of decorum," he told the Zeltron. "She is... not the most tactful among the Crusaders."

"At least I'm not a shabla di'kut!" Asha yelled back as she disappeared into the ship. Alkor's shotgun barked once as a round ricocheted off the hull and the ship lurched. There was abrupt, distinctly feminine laughter within.

"As I was saying," the Corellian offered a hollow smile, the sort that would let the woman know he was at least trying to sound supportive. Even if he wasn't able to conjure up any real emotions. "I don't know what 'good wife behavior' entails. I can hardly hold you to a standard I am not privvy to."

Alkor slung the shotgun over his back again and held the buy'ce loosely at his hip. "If it is the duty of a husband to care for a child, then I will accept whatever duty that station demands of me. That is how I have always conducted myself. It matters little who the father is, and I am not interested in knowing. If you want him hunted and slain, or brought back to assume duties, that is another matter entirely. I defer to you, of course."

"F-fething hell, did he just..." Asha sat in disbelief at the helm of their ship, listening to everything Alkor said. This man may not have understood what it meant to be Mandalorian, but his words and his actions... she felt her heart beating ten miles per minute. "Does he realize what he's doing?"

"You have no cause for fear," Alkor assured the pink-skinned woman. "You have done nothing to upset me. It is the general disposition of your species to copulate on a social basis, is it not?" Or had he misunderstood what he'd been told about Zeltrons? He hoped that it had not come off racist or xenophobic. That would have been vexing.

 

[Joza Perl]

From their previous encounter, Joza had gathered that Alkor didn’t know too much about the galaxy as a whole, outside of where he lived and what he did for a living. She could forgive him for not knowing the finer details of pregnancy, but…just…what? Sucking in a breath to gather her thoughts, Joza held it for a few seconds before breathing out slowly.

“Barring any unlikely complications, I’m going to be just fine. And it’s not contagious. But by the Force, where do you think babies come from, Alkor? Have you never had ‘the talk’?” It was almost like living in a sitcom with the token clueless character, and for a moment she wondered if Alkor was playing with her. Taking another look at the Dark Jedi, she imagined that he really was just clueless.

As Asha chimed in, Joza’s gaze flickered over and above Alkor’s shoulder. Both brows rose at her not-so-subtle jabs, and for a moment the Zeltron considered correcting her in a snide manner. But that urge quickly abated, figuring that there was something more important to deal with than chasing after Asha to correct her family history. Though it looked as if she didn’t need to, as Alkor came to her defense. She said nothing while witnessing the exchanging, watching as the pretty blonde hurled what she assumed to be a curse in Mando’a before withdrawing back into the ship. “Nice to meet you too, vode!” The redhead called back with mock gusto, no small amount of derision in her voice.

Alone at last. With the momentary departure of Asha, Joza and Alkor were left to discuss the...situation between them. As he started talking, Joza’s brows knit in confusion and she looked almost put off. “What? Alkor, no. You don’t have to do that, I…why is that even your first thought?” Shaking her head, she exhaled sharply, with exasperation. “I know this is a difficult position to put you in given our, uh, “status” among the Mandalorians but raising a child is a huge responsibility. I won’t force this on you, given that this isn’t your child and…and don’t worry about the father.” She sucked in a huffy breath, eyes widening a notch at his mention of her racial norms.

It took a few moments for her to respond, and within that time Joza searched Alkor’s face. Not for anything specific, but perhaps verification—did he really mean that? Was he being sincere? Was he just being genuine to mock her? She bit her tongue before shaking her head, a sad little chuckle tickling her lips. “Yeah, I can see why you’d say that.” Raising her head, she sent a hand through her hair at the crown of her head. “But really, Alkor. You don’t need to look after me or this child. I just thought it would be best for you to know, that's all.” Her lips tilted into a wry smile, trying to gain some of her good humor back. “I don’t think that your girlfriend likes me anyhow.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Which talk are you referring to?" he inquired, tilting his head. Alkor took part in very few talks. In fact, he much preferred to converse combatively, and most people considered him to be brutish. Even among Mandalorians, he was an oddity- they talked, joked, and made friends among their kin. "I would remember any talk relative to the origin of children, so no, I most likely have not."

It was a fair and honest answer, if more innocent than an assassin had any right to give. Still, he did not seem upset with her, nor was he annoyed with there being some secret everyone else understood. He maintained patience, one of the few redeeming traits that the Jen'jidai could claim.

She continued to explain to him the responsibilities of a parent, but Alkor's expression was vacant, focused on her, but ultimately lost. He tried to make all of the connections, to his credit. "I have never shied from responsiblity before," he replied curtly, as if he thought she meant to slight him by saying he was incapable- but no sooner did he begin to speak, her words cut into his. She did not want to trouble him with the burden. Alkor closed his mouth and watched her face with real interest.

She assured him that it was not his duty, and they he need not care for her or the child. For the first time, Alkor was reminded of his own mother. Had she ever said something like that to his father? All he had from the man was a surname, and even that was vague. Alkor had never seen his face, heard his voice- his senses had never felt emotions from the foreign entity the way that they had with his mother.

Were these the words that gave the man freedom to leave behind all his duties and abandon Alkor and his mother? He exhaled softly as he heard her out, and felt moved to speak. He wanted to say something, to step in, and to comfort this woman.

But that was not how Alkor Centaris dealt with people.

He was visibly torn, now. His gaze was not on her as his stomach churned, and he gulped at the dryness of his throat. "If you need me," he finally whispered, "no, not need. If you want me for anything, you have only to ask me, Joza. I will help you in whatever way I can."

Her quip about Asha did not go unnoticed, of course. He waited for a moment to let the sincerity of his words set in, then spoke up. "And she and I do not have that kind of relationship."

He felt the disappointment from within the ship, and glanced back wordlessly. When his gaze returned to Joza, he folded his arms. "I am... unsure of what else to say," he added quietly so that only she could hear.

[member="Joza Perl"]