Nalyova’s lights were bright and welcoming, despite the constant cloak of smog that pressed down from levels five-thousand through twenty-five fifty-nine. In terms of Coruscant’s grand, glittering scale, the neighborhood – nalyova, the Twi’lek residents affectionally nicknamed it, for the railway station that rumbled above their heads – was a closet, a shoebox. But it was a warm one, a welcoming one. Ryl lanterns in bright sunset colors – sunsets which the residents never saw, down in the mid-lower levels – looped around the central atrium, three levels high, connecting the tiny mom-and-pop shops, the cramped apartments, the tiny restaurants amidst the clutter of too-many beings crammed into a too-small place. The trees were fake: bright, unnatural neons; the fountain was cracked and dry; the dirty paint on the buildings had long ago flaked away to reveal the dull, smog-stained durasteel underneath – but the lights that flooded from the homes were golden, welcoming. People called to each other in the streets, skirting around children playing bolo-ball, the old ones playing dejarik and sabbac in between puffs of their long Twi’lekki pipes. It was a place where everyone knew each other, where everyone helped each other.
Even if they were visitors from top side.
Amaranth Elsheva glanced up at the sound of the bell to her parents’ place, A'sis Jirsalo – the Rose Lantern, in Basic – and a wide grin immediately split her face nearly in two when she saw the newcomer. “Volya! Bea, come in, come in – is that really you, all the way down here?” She skirted out from behind the counter, lekku swinging happily behind her as she rushed to her friend and enveloped her in a tight hug.
The younger Twi’lek grinned back, something like relief washing over her face as she hugged Ama back. She was wearing the typical ‘Jedi-undercover-garb’ of a dark poncho, but Ama wasn’t about to point it out. She knew what it must have taken for Volya to gather the courage to slip away from the Temple – especially without her lightsabers.
Ama broke the hug first and tugged Volya’s hands, gesturing to a free table tucked into the corner of the restaurant, away from the other diners. The A’sis Jirsalo was decorated in what both Amaranth and Volya would have to assume was accurate Ryl décor – neither nativeborn Coruscanti having seen Ryloth themselves – and that meant an emphasis on community, on clan. The Elshevas of the Nalyova block made sure everyone who walked through their door felt at home. “Wait here – I’ll get us something to drink,” Ama said, quickly lighting the cheap candledroids before hurrying back to the kitchens. “Maman, Da, sei muchi ohk circa - Do ohk tlaran a eoh ronkan!”
As she prepared two cups of bitter Ryl-root tea, her Da looked up from the chopping block. He knew that if she had to announce the presence of a friend, it wasn’t a Nalyova native. “Jedi? V'ora? Anmian?”
“Huhsi Juno'hervoe - Volya. Ji a'an Cme'as, ji eyan uru.”
Her maman appeared out of nowhere, putting two thick sweetcakes and a jar of spiced honey on a serving platter. “Ohk gan talnahan ar bee ki'uk, aan koa?”
Ama made a little face at her mother as she signed thank you for the cakes. “Jid xaeo batey ootay toe a sonarsa uru, Maman.”
Her mother waved her hand in mock-disappointment with a little bahh!
“Do cahsinark ornorkunan dan tohsi tilsa a ormudis, Do tlonahan!”
“Bahh!” again, and Ama’s father laughed. She sighed and took the tray back out to the communal dining area, sliding the tray onto the low table between her and Volya and sitting on the floor cushion – the embroidered pattern faded as long as she can remember – her legs sliding into the space under the table. Volya hesitated, and then copied Ama with a shy grin. Her lekku were tense, drawn up tight around her shoulders, so Ama reached across the smooth faux-wood table and gently clasped Voyla’s hands in her own. “Hey, I’m really glad to see you, Voy. What brings you down here?” She shot her a crooked grin, “Besides me, of course.”
“Ha, of course I’m here for you.” Volya squeezed Ama’s hand and then smiled shyly across the table. “But also, the, uh. The Twi’lek heritage museum.”
Ama blinked in surprise – Volya had mentioned to her about feeling disconnected from her Twi’lek heritage before, on the Mercurial, and Ama had found herself in the strange-yet-familiar position of gentle older sister, helping the Twi’lek Jedi negotiate that part of hereself as best she could – and then she burst with a wide smile. “How’d you like it? They have an excellent textile collection there – and the section on myths and legends is one of my favorites…”
Volya’s eyes brightened. “Yes! I loved that part, it was so well done…” and then she was off.
Ama spooned a generous helping of spiced honey into both cups of steaming tea, and sipped hers slowly with delight as she listened to the younger Twi’lek ramble on and on about the museum, about the exhibits, her favorite displays – her lekku gradually relaxing until they swung freely behind her shoulder blades – and Ama felt an immense pride as she listened to her friend.
When Volya finally managed to catch her breath, Ama set down her mug and grinned. “I think this calls for a special celebration meal, eh? Maman, Da - cahsinark dan anasan ar rarnork sei muchi?”
And as if they had been waiting with their ears pressed to the door, Amaranth’s parents burst through to the main dining area, both carrying heaping plates of traditional Twi’lekki meals – including sweets usually made only for holidays. Happy tears sprang to Volya’s eyes as Ama’s parents set the plates down in front of her, and then sat on either side, warmly greeting the Jedi like she was one of their own.
That’s what it meant to dine with the Elshevas in Nalyova.
Family.
sei muchi ohk circaa- Do ohk tlaran a eoh ronkan «my friend is here - I'm taking a little break»
Juno'hervoe? V'ora? Anmian? «Jedi? Clones? Both?»
Huhsi Juno'hervoe- Volya. Ji a'an Cme'as, ji eyan uru. «Just Jedi - Volya. The other Twi'lek, the young one.»
Ohk gan talnahan ar bee ki'uk, aan koa? «Are we allowed to say hello, or no?»
Jid xaeo batey ootay toe a sonarsa uru, Maman «Let her settle in for a moment first, Maman»
Do cahsinark ornorkunan dan tohsi tilsa a ormudis, Do tlonahan! «I'll introduce you after a bit, I promise!»
cahsinark dan anasan ar rarnork sei muchi? «would you like to meet my friend?»
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