sar's tryin her best here

Of course, he had run himself ragged in the time since Skira’s destruction; it was just like him to put his people’s needs above his own. There had been no Maila around to keep his sleep or drinking schedules intact, after all. Despite how exhausted the king looked, though, the budding glee on his features as he registered her presence was unmistakable.

“Maila,” Aslain elected to greet her in Basic rather than Skir, his rough, guttural accent like music to the Jedi’s ears. Jumping off of his chair with a forced ease, Copper tensed as the king approached, but Maila waved him down with a paw. She immediately closed the distance between them, barely holding in a laugh as she felt her commander’s surprise, each of their heads resting atop the other’s shoulders as they met in a familiar embrace. “I can’t begin to describe how good it is to see you well.”

“And I you, my dearest friend,” Maila mewed softly. Her Basic was less accented than his, for obvious reasons, but centuries on Coruscant had been unable to completely scrub her Skiran accent away. The two friends parted hesitantly, with Maila turning to face Copper. “My companion here is Commander Copper, of the 296th Legion of the Galactic Armed Regiment.”