Plo's Bros inc.

The Aleena

Doryn lay in a nest of blankets, curled around a creature sparsely covered in long hairs. It was covered in thick blood-like goo, next to it a thin sac of sorts. It was her daughter. Her instinct was to protect the tiny writhing thing, but for some reason she knew she couldn't. It... she didn't look Cathar. At least, not fully Cathar, possibly half human. Her nose, that looked like a terribly swollen Cathar nose, desperately sucked in air. Doryn knew, somehow, that this was her daughter with Wolffe, despite it being impossible. There were legends of a Bothan that was supposedly half human, but she knew a human and a Cathar couldn't. Doryn also knew... she knew her daughter was going to die. Her child was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it, Jedi or not. So, she simply laid there with her and felt her alive in the Force. For now, she was alive and Doryn just let her feel the love that she had for her.

Doryn awoke, tears in her eyes. She felt empty in her soul, despite knowing it was only a dream. She'd fallen asleep searching the holo-net for talk of Cathar hybrids. The only things she could find were forums of mothers of Cathar-Bothan children and explicit websites with videos fetishising her species. It was mainly pure curiosity and a little paranoia over all the unprotected sex she'd been having with Wolffe. Though, she did like the idea of having a family of her own someday. She knew she couldn't, of course. As a Jedi, it was a sacrifice she had to make, and she was sure that Wolffe wouldn't want kids now, if he even wanted them at all. Well, that was the last time she let herself fall asleep during an odd holo-net search.

She looked over to her comm-link and the little flashing light on it. She played the message as she got out of her bed and got herself together. "Hope you're having a nice dream, cyar'ika." Wolffe had been the one to leave the message. With Master Plo behind them, on the Triumphant, it made sense that he took the chance to leave her a message that started like that. "When you've finished dreaming about me, come down to the surface. The Aleena have had quakes and I need something pretty to look at while I work." She could just imagine Wolffe topless with his bottom half fully covered while recording this, even if he'd probably been fully kitted up. A girl could dream. Especially when those dreams were based on memories of his statuesque body hidden under smatterings of dark curly fur.

She hadn't even been on the surface for a full minute when Wolffe came grumbling over to her. With the situation, he couldn't flop his head onto her shoulder like he wanted to. Instead, he stared at it for a second before greeting her with his complaints. "That protocol droid is either going to General Gallia or a scrap pile, and I have a preference." She couldn't help but chuckle at that. He was so genuinely angry at the existence of this droid and its personality which was a very standard one for a protocol droid to have. "It's almost like I have valid reasons for hating Skywalker." One of those reasons being what he did to her lightsaber on Geonosis. Why Master Tassu had taken it at all and later given it to him was beyond her. Yet not only did she have a Master to mourn, but also a lightsaber to rebuild. "That's Skywalker's droid?" She nodded. "I'll never forgive that piece of osik."

"Well, can you multitask? I see we have work to be getting on with." He sighed at her sarkiness and turned back to his job to placate her for a moment, though he turned right back around when he heard her footsteps. She'd meant multitasking between his anger at Skywalker's droid and his work but right now he was multitasking between the anger and appreciating Ryn's form as she walked away. Her deep brown robes didn't show much, the leather belt being the only thing that showed any of her form. Much of his admiring came from remembering what was under the layers of plain fabric. She turned her head back around when she got to the partially set up kitchen, her Jedi senses probably letting her feel his eyes on her. Her braid slipped over her shoulder and hung down her back. The same braid he'd used as a handle once or twice in bed. A braid he'd watched her undo and perfectly reconstruct so many times. He let his smirk take over his face and let his eyes obviously roam over her hidden figure before giving her a slight eyebrow lift and turning away to get back to ordering his men around.