#darvannis

Torian Cadera, in combat: Admiring my form?

My Sith Inquisitor: Yeah, you’ve got a nice ass.

Torian: ...

Torian: You know that wasn’t what I meant.

Ner runi ca kebii’tra. // My soul is the night sky.

Chapters: 29/? Fandom: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic Rating: Mature Relationships: Aric Jorgan/Female Republic Trooper, Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Theron Shan, Vector Hyllus/Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine, Lana Beniko/Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Female Smuggler/Koth Vortena, Elara Dorne/Male Republic Trooper, Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Male Sith Warrior, Andronikos Revel/Female Sith Inquisitor, Female Sith Inquisitor/Kaliyo Djannis Series: Part 4 of Meet Me On The Battlefield Word Count: Total (136,954) Chapter (5,092)

A/N: Shout out to @dimigex​ for her awesome betaing skills, and @kunoichi-ume​ for letting me borrow her Jedi.

Summary: Verin is forced to acknowledge that he's an adult. Fynta is...well, Fynta. Torian spends time with the most interesting Jedi. And, Jorgan get's a little piece of mind.

Darvannis After Party  

Verin assumed Fynta would be in the midst of the party, singing loudly and off tune with the rest of the di'kuts who drank themselves stupid. Making for the largest gathering, Verin spotted Torian standing shoulder to shoulder with a waif of a woman clad in something that wouldn't stop a papercut, much less a blaster bolt. It could only be the Jedi that Verin had heard so much about.

Strolling up to the two, Verin craned his neck to see what had gathered so many Mandalorians. Before he could ask, Torian leaned around the woman. "I'll have the net'ra gal moved to your tent after tomorrow's battle."

Two cases of black ale had been the stakes in their bet. Verin grinned at his chief. "What did she do?"

The woman answered with an amused twist of her lips. "Challenged Khomo. But, what's a koot-tay?"

Torian laughed, then covered it with a cough. "Kute is what we call under armor." His next words were directed at Verin. "Hand to hand, no armor or weapons. If he wins, she'll let him call her an aruetii–outsider," Torian corrected for their guest's benefit. "If she wins, he gives up the crushgaunt."

"Fierfek," Verin spat. That was the last thing he needed. Verin cursed again when his comm chimed. Fishing it from the pocket on his belt, he answered without checking the ID. "I'm a little busy at the moment."

"That's what I was afraid of," Aric answered, and Verin looked down with horror to find Fynta's husband on the line. No, that was the last thing he needed. "Fynta hasn't been answering her comm. Should I ask?"

The Jedi leaned closer to smile at the irritable Cathar. "Probably not. But, I promise, she will come home in one piece."

Verin groaned audibly this time and rubbed a hand down his face. He caught the wary expression that Torian cast around them, reminding Verin that while they'd come a long way, a Cathar would still cause a sensation amongst so many Mandalorians. Especially after copious amounts of alcohol.

"Aric," Verin began. "You knew what you were getting into when you married my sister." He held the device up so that the Cathar could make out two figures circling in the middle of a growing mob. Lowering his comm when he heard the telltale snarl of a man who continuously expected better from a woman who could never deliver, Verin shrugged. "I can't do a damn thing about it."

"Noara, please keep her from getting herself killed," Aric replied, and the woman between Verin and Torian leaned back into the shot to offer a reassuring smile. Focusing on Verin again, Jorgan's shoulders slumped. "Just have her call me when she's done. Or maybe let me know if she's unconscious."

Laughing, Verin nodded. "You've got it." When the line cut, he hooked the holo to his belt and focused on the fight. "So, who's your credits on?"

Darvannis.

Sandy edition.