Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Nov 13, 2014 2:44:32 GMT -5
Name: Varulla'aba Garnudcha'Oaknadaa
Species: Twi'lek
Faction: Miki Boska
Rank: Lesbi-Dad?
Age: 36
Height: 1.67m
Weight: 58 kg
Image:
Appearance:
Appearance: Var tends to stand out visually, for different reasons than her statuesque partner. While her height is hardly remarkable and she has a very slender build, Var has a dramatic contrast. Her skin is alabaster, pale. Her eyes are icy blue. That alone makes for an almost hypnotic intensity to her gaze. Var’s pale skin doesn’t hide fatigue easily and she learned long ago that dark eye shadow concealed it best, which has the side-effect if making the intensity and contrast more dramatic.
On her face, she has a series of blue geometric tattoos (that glow silver in UV light), that show her status as a friend to the Miki Boska Twi’leks. They continue along her lekku periodically, and they have a sister-set. Var’s back has a spiderweb of scars from long-ago whippings, and the mark of shame in her mind has been camouflaged by a large, intricate tattoo in the same blue. It symbolizes her union with her partner Donnie.
Var can be typically found in armor. It’s less that she’s afraid of needing it, and more simply habit. Hers is a modification of an older Zabrak design, and provides a good balance between survivability and flexibility. However it’s hardly her only set of clothing. Var often wears leather pants and a black tank top around the ship casually, and she cleans up in quite stunning fashion in dress, fishnet stockings, and heels. However the constant is almost always monochromatic: black. She's also become increasingly known (and sometimes mocked by her spouse) for a ridiculously large collection of shoes and boots, most with very tall heels, her compensation for being very short next to Donnie.
Her dimensions are 34B-24-36
Personality: Over the years since meeting her partner, Var has changed in more ways than anyone could have expected. In the final days of the Republic she was an angry, bitter, and caustic woman who clung to fear and aggression to keep her motivated. She didn’t allow others to get close, and her inner pain and demons were sources of fury to be channeled in crisis.
Underneath that façade of cold, rude, mockery there was something else. Deep down, Var’s motivations were something she was ashamed of. She had always disappointed the authority figures in her life, failed to live up to her potential, and personally failed at her goals. The bitter taste of failure was in her mouth, mingling with guilts and regrets, and coated in loneliness.
Then she met Donnie, and began changing bit by bit. No longer being lonely aided her, and she was able to talk for the first time about her true personal self and her history. She was able to finally heal old wounds and move on to a new stage in her life. She became a dedicated partner to Donnie, sensitive to her needs, supportive in time of difficulty.
Var blossomed. Normalcy entered her life and she adopted a set of very mature policies. She loves Donnie deeply, but understands that they both have different needs. For 90% of their mutual needs, they can satisfy each other with companionship and intimacy. But for the remaining 10%, Donnie needs more physicality, and Var needs more experience. It is with this understanding that periodically they take a break and Var goes out in nice clothing with a charming male companion, watches an opera or concert, and enjoys a fine dinner and intimacy. Though her commitment is to Donnie and she typically prefers women, Var hasn’t ever been able to be with another woman and not feel unfaithful to Donnie. When she chooses men to be with, Var is extremely selective.
She enjoys a very good relationship with ‘the kids.’ Niri is, honestly, hard to keep up with. She finds Enarin much easier to work with, and Var is typically the proverbial Dad in the family. She has honestly considered getting a pipe and velvet smoking jacket.
In daily life despite her advancements, Var still tends to be very private. She doesn’t like to disrobe in front of anyone but an intimate partner, and she doesn’t like to talk with strangers about herself beyond the common knowledge. Her personal history is shared with very few, and she still hasn’t recovered from it. She enjoys the quiet, and values her peace. Which is of course hard to do when kids are around.
While Var has grown to stability in her small community among the Boska, her trust is extremely hard to obtain for others, and doubly so for Force-users. While she has a limited control of the Force herself, Var‘s experience has taught her that it is Force users who are the most dangerous threats to her. She sees additional layers to those who command the force, and almost in paranoid fashion she can assign hidden motivations, risks of betrayal, and pursuits of power to them. For that reason her actual trust is almost exclusively limited to those who lack the Force.
Despite her appearance, which is still dark and almost brooding, Var has learned to smile and laugh. She is much more agreeable than she used to be, though her glare is potent as ever. Old habits die hard though, and Var is cautiously observant at almost all times, aware of surroundings and looking for dangers. Now more than ever she is protective, not of merely herself but her family. In this one respect Var can still be as dangerous as she once was. She doesn’t stop when it comes to protecting her kin.
History: Varulla’aba was born on Ryloth, to a nurse by the name of Terana’aba, and a miner named Vorin’aba. She was the only daughter, and the spitting image of her mother, save for the blue eyes of her father. It was fortunate that she was the only daughter, as her family was quite poor. But still for the first years, between her parents and Supisy’ven, a close friend, Varulla was well-cared for. She was able to crawl very quickly, and then to walk. The delighted parents were swiftly impressed by the way she could even do actual things, and very alarmed at how she managed to get into every childproofed cupboard and through every door.
However, Vorin’s work in the spice mines was complicated by an accident. Fumes were released, and given the poor safety standards and ventilation, he wound up with a degenerative lung disease. He tried to find other work, but continually failed, and Varulla watched each day as her father’s health grew worse. Terana watched as well, and made a grave error in judgment by quietly taking a Hutt’s loan to afford medicine. Despite even that, Vorin’s progress could not be halted, and he died in Varulla’s sixth year. And then the loan came due.
Terana wasn’t able to pay, and nobody would miss one woman on Ryloth. She was abducted and auctioned, and Varulla was left behind, lost and confused. Supisy couldn’t afford to take her in, so she entrusted the girl to an orphanage. The orphanage had been meant to be temporary, but it was only for a few months. A rich human couple ‘adopted’ Varulla, without papers, and merely used the girl as unofficial slave labor. They couldn’t even be bothered to say her full name, and clipped it. It was the beginning of Var’s rebellious streak, and she began plotting on ways to escape their lavish home. Her opportunity came when they were traveling to Eriadu, where they lived the majority of the time. Var was able to quietly slip away from them and sneak onto a cargo ship instead.
Luckily for her it was a smuggler vessel headed to Tatooine instead of a further destination. If it had been any longer a trip she likely would have died from the lack of food and water. As it was, she was extremely weak and dehydrated. The smugglers debated amongst themselves what to do with the girl, and the Captain put his foot down. They took her to a local healer in Mos Espa, and left her on the doorstep.
The healer did nurse the Twi’lek girl back to health, treating dehydration with rest and fluids. However every bit of charity had a cost, as Var learned when, to ‘pay her debt’, she was sold into slavery. It lacked even the dignity of a formal slave auction, as it was merely a backroom deal with a shopkeeper named Madon Dell. He ran a pawn shop that was as disreputable as he was. Illegal goods flowed freely, and he wanted to flaunt his Twi’lek slave. Not that an eight year old had much to flaunt. However, what mattered most to him was his capriciousness. He enjoyed being able to order Var at whim, to make him caf or food, to clean his messes. Or even to simply respond to his foolish commands.
She quickly discovered that obeying his commands was less likely to provoke wrath, which did come often enough as it was. If he misplaced an item he would accuse ‘the little bitch’ of taking it, and try to beat the location out of her. Sometimes it was fists. But as he escalated over the course of two years, it turned into objects. First belts, and then a whip. Var tried to escape, three times. She suffered a cracked rib, whippings so bad the sand rubbed into open wounds every time she tried to sleep on her corner of floor, and dark bruises all over her pale skin. It was too dangerous.
Var was 9, when Madon drunkenly molested her. The girl cried and cried for hours, and then she tried escaping again, begging passers-by for help and telling what had happened. Madon caught up and broke her wrist dragging her back. He felt ‘humiliated’ by her protestations, and he quickly closed his shop and headed out into the desert to take over an Uncle’s moisture farm. Unofficially, the reason why was to prevent Var from escaping as his abuses escalated.
This time though, she was determined. One night she stole food, water, and clothing and began walking. Though no typical child of 10 could choose almost certain death, Var was not typical, and knew very well that she couldn’t endure more of it. So she moved off through the desert, finding shelter in a cave during the heat of the day, trying to conserve her energy and supplies. She fell asleep though, very deeply, and was awakened by two people arriving. Thankfully neither was Madon.
They were a girl a little older than Var, and an old man with beard and hood. They gave Var better food and water, and explained that they had been travelling through when they’d stumbled onto her cave to shelter from a sandstorm in. The way they spoke to Var was kind, and they respected her, asked her for permission to share a cave she had no claim to. And they listened, they heard her story about Madon and why she’d run. And most amazingly, they promised to take her with them.
And they did.
As Var discovered, they were Altisian Jedi, which were like Jedi, but a little different. What was more, she discovered she was mildly Force Sensitive. Master Aprion Varntelik and his pupil Shrina Denari were both willing to give Var a chance, and as they returned to Bespin, home of their enclave, she began learning. Or trying to learn. She’d never learned to read properly, and the task of explaining even that was daunting. Even once arrived and accepted as a student, Var still found herself nearly hopelessly behind everyone else.
Worst of all, she could feel Shrina’s annoyance at having to share time with Var, whose instruction was essentially a full time job. And while the Twi’lek could hold a lightsaber, and lift a stone with the Force, she was still far disadvantaged for her age. What she needed was a miracle, and at even her late age Aprion did his best to arrange one.
How many favors he called in was unknown, but a full Orthodox Jedi named Kendon Baren acquiesced and took Var into the Order Proper. The decision was controversial, and from day one as Var headed to Coruscant, it was clear to her that she was an outsider to all the Jedi. She had not trained in a Youngling Clan, or passed any sets of Trials. She knew no one, she didn’t know the traditions, and she had no friends. Kendon made no secret his disdain for her abilities, and every single time she demonstrated anything she learned, he made her do it over again differently. Nothing she did was adequate for him. What was more galling was that his disappointment was practically tangible. She knew he’d be better off spending his time with any other student.
Kendon was widely considered to be one of the most technically correct Jedi of his age, and he had practically memorized sets of principles and behavioral codes. He certainly never hesitated to apply them all to Var. What he didn’t apply was sympathy, or compassion. When he was present he expected work from the Padawan, and he expected that work to be done well. If she failed, he would make note of it in his datapad. And Var knew what that meant. Extra work, extra labors, denied pleasures. Punishments for not meeting the high standard. Everything was strict, rigid, and technical. It made her feel like a droid.
Failure after failure for years sank in, and Var became increasingly pessimistic of her abilities. She’d learned one lesson well at least: You can’t do anything right. It had succeeded in making her duplicitous. Inside she was bitter and unhappy, outside she would politely say whatever she was expected to say. However in her heart she’d already determined that leaving would be wise.
Another Padawan her age named Macton Dren was the one who helped. Together the two who had been paired together as sparring partners plotted an escape, and they were able to make it on a regular outing, slinking off to Empress Teta. It was Macton who had the ideas about the Dark Side, and about how anger and hate could be powerful tools. He persuaded Var, and while she never was able to wield the kind of dark power he did, she was still able to enhance her own abilities through her fear and anger.
After a year though, Var caught on to a grim fact. He was much more advanced, and she was ‘holding him back.’ She learned that much from clever spying, from listening in, and from reading his private thoughts. Her fear grew, and she became convinced it was a matter of time until he’d try to kill her to test his power.
Var decided a pre-emptive strike was her best chance, and she obtained a sonic blaster. When he was in the shower, she stood outside the curtain, and fired three shots in. At that close range there wasn’t much left of him. Of course she’d committed a crime by the standards of the Tetan authorities, and so she ran.
Luckily for her, she ran into the Miki Boska Twi’leks, who had arrived in the unsettled portion of Empress Teta for an annual festival. They considered her a lost sister in need, and she was able to quietly disappear with them. She flew with them a whole year in space, learning some basic piloting and repair techniques, becoming better acquainted with a blaster pistol. Var was tattooed with a special set indicating her status as a friend to the clan she flew with. However after a year she was content to leave, and found herself on Eriadu, trying to make some kind of living. What she found was that for someone willing to blur the ethical lines, there was a lot of work to be done on Eriadu. She took her lightsaber and her sonic blaster and began a limited bounty-hunting career with a gang of Devaronians. Moonlighting without the Guild license was an interesting experience, as she rarely did legitimate work. But it kept her alive and in food, and she was even able to upgrade her equipment and practice her Force skills on her own pace. However the Jedi took notice of a lightsaber being wielded, and Var fled from a pair of Guardians who were dispatched. The escape was only narrow.
From her flight, Var headed as far as she could get with the aim of avoiding the Jedi, and of avoiding the war. Neither were palatable as far as she was concerned, and she doubted either side would trust an unaligned force-user any further than she would trust them.
In her flight from Eriadu, Var made it to the planet of Garqi where pure chance reared its head again. She’d sheltered with the Miki Boska once before, and the charity of Doneetas’oaknadaa allowed her to do so again. However, the charity, mingled with some alcohol, led to the end of a very long dry spell.
What had begun as something physical, and a little awkward, grew into a relationship. Pursuit from the Jedi also fell out of possibility as the Empire was formed by Palpatine. However Var doubted it would be any better if the Empire caught her. She resolved to lie low with Donnie.
It was around that time when she discovered Donnie had a son.
That was a major surprise to Var, and she had to think over it for some time. In the end she realized that she herself still had secrets, things she’d hidden away and not shared, and couldn’t hold anger for Donnie over it. The two wound up closer still.
In 18 BBY, Donnie’s project was coaxing Var out of her shell sexually. Var’s prudishness had been tested already by stumbling into the ship’s sex room, which she promptly dubbed the Cock Pit. However Donnie was insightful enough to know there were things the two couldn’t give each other. So with gentle encouragement, and some prodding and shoving, Donnie managed to coax Var into seeing very select men on luxurious ‘high end’ dates. And Var had to admit that sparkling wine and caviar weren’t things Donnie was good at providing. What solidified it though was a gesture of true commitment to offset the sexual liberation, in the eyes of the Boska, Var and Donnie officially became a recognized couple. And then the two were both able to, ironically, enjoy physicality with other people.
It did, however, lead to the absolute greatest shock of Var’s life in 17 BBY when a lovely night with a remarkably well-dressed and articulate Nautolan produced a child. Var hadn’t even know Twi’leks and Nautolans were compatible, least of all that they’d be able to conceive. And beyond that, she had absolutely no clue of what to do with a child. It was fortunate Donnie had gone through pregnancy, because she was able to aid Var, coaxing and helping her through gestation and through a birth.
The child was a girl, who was formally named Nieriaba’soaknadaa Garnudcha O’ta. Nieri being her most basic name, Aba being Var’s clan name, Oaknadaa being Donnie’s family name, and O’ta being the family Donnie’s family was sworn to as War Guard (Garnudcha). Niri, as she was swiftly nicknamed by virtue of having two parents with unruly names who liked clipped nicknames, was the spitting image of her mother in at least one way: Alabaster white skin. Her eyes were pure black though, with the nictitating membrane of a Nautolan, and she had an intermediate number of headtails that grew out steadily with age. Too long for Nautolans, too many and too small for Twi’leks.
Var and Donie debated over the color of tattoo to choose for Niri. Ultimately Var and Donnie reached an agreement: Green. Representing honesty, integrity, and courage. It was a favorite of pilots, which Donnie longed for the child to grow to be, and honesty had become one of Var’s favorite traits from dealing with Donnie’s son.
Around that time Var became more involved with Donnie's family, and found out something interesting. Terana'aba, her mother, had been rescued by the Boska and passed away in 20 BBY of a degenerative medical condition. Before then she'd worked as a nurse, and had helped take care of Donnie. It finally gave Var much needed closure on her past.
Having not one, but two children underfoot led to a very busy few years, and time practically flew by with the Boska to 11 BBY and the Grancha Hasa at Abregado-Rae, in the Core. An enormous celebration out on the rolling hills, attended by all the Boska, was simply too convenient a target for the xenophobic Empire to pass up.
Midway through the celebration the Empire began arresting Boska Twi’leks, capturing their ships, and shooting resisters. Var and Donnie escaped with their children, thanks in no small part to Var’s force-abilities and Donnie’s quick thinking.
The Boska were scattered with a bloody nose, and many wound up in Imperial Labor Camps. However those who had escaped had a pressing need for newer and better ships, as many of the old ones scrapped by the Empire had been centuries old. They found the beginning of their new fleet on their way away from Abregado-Rae, in the Giju Outer Sector Derelict Authority. It was a Munificent Class Frigate, originally the Banking Clan’s warship Paradox of Rationality, with the big guns removed post-war. It was an absurdly almost laughably huge ship, but heavily automated.
The Boska got it at a bargain price, and renamed it Pateesa Kwee-Kunee, The Friend Queen. Most of them quickly devised an alternate nickname based on the ship’s exasperating maintenance needs: Beeogola Nechaska. Stupid Little Princess. Still they called it home. Var was no exception, and quickly found her niche in the new community. Her dexterity and knowledge of blasters and hand-to-hand techniques made her a natural fit as an instructor for the Boska in defensive measures. Donnie, meanwhile, had a familial respect Var hadn’t ever noticed before, and was routinely involved in decision-making onboard the vessel. One of the biggest difficulties they faced was with Niri. She was six, and in the schools onboard the ship there were other children who taunted her for being mixed race. Niri would come home crying. Often in fact.
Donnie handled it better than Var. Which wasn’t to say she handled it especially well, but rather to say that Var was ready to find her old lightsaber and start lopping children’s heads off. There was no murder however, Donnie pulled strings with her family name and had the Captain of the ship personally lecture the offending children. On the Pateesa Kwee-Kunee, everyone listened to the Captain.
In 9 BBY Donnie and Var had another difficult patch. Var idly spotted the screen of a coworker, and to her shock discovered the subject of the pornographic video was Donnie. She’d filmed a rather… Shocking tape with an alien Var didn’t want to identify, and sadly the sheets were something she COULD identify.
When Var had time to calm down, she discretely asked Donnie about the incident and why it was done in her bed instead of the Cock Pit. The answer she received was that everything would be totally new in a few days anyway. She sold off the ship to her brother Vax entirely, and bought a new (or new-to-her) YT-2400, as a surprise. It meant no more ladder. It also meant much more space, and much more comfort.
The ship’s only disadvantage was an ungainly offset cockpit and unusual shape, which combined with the white color earned it the nickname of The Snowball. Niri and Enarin were both thrilled at getting bigger rooms. Var was thrilled at getting a full galley, and a Jacuzzi and the refresher.
Furnished with a newer and better ship, Var and Donnie were tasked with procurement. It was a skill they were quite good at. And it was nice to get away from Donnie’s new levels of Boska responsibility.
Miscellaneous Crap:
Species: Twi'lek
Faction: Miki Boska
Rank: Lesbi-Dad?
Age: 36
Height: 1.67m
Weight: 58 kg
Image:
Appearance:
Appearance: Var tends to stand out visually, for different reasons than her statuesque partner. While her height is hardly remarkable and she has a very slender build, Var has a dramatic contrast. Her skin is alabaster, pale. Her eyes are icy blue. That alone makes for an almost hypnotic intensity to her gaze. Var’s pale skin doesn’t hide fatigue easily and she learned long ago that dark eye shadow concealed it best, which has the side-effect if making the intensity and contrast more dramatic.
On her face, she has a series of blue geometric tattoos (that glow silver in UV light), that show her status as a friend to the Miki Boska Twi’leks. They continue along her lekku periodically, and they have a sister-set. Var’s back has a spiderweb of scars from long-ago whippings, and the mark of shame in her mind has been camouflaged by a large, intricate tattoo in the same blue. It symbolizes her union with her partner Donnie.
Var can be typically found in armor. It’s less that she’s afraid of needing it, and more simply habit. Hers is a modification of an older Zabrak design, and provides a good balance between survivability and flexibility. However it’s hardly her only set of clothing. Var often wears leather pants and a black tank top around the ship casually, and she cleans up in quite stunning fashion in dress, fishnet stockings, and heels. However the constant is almost always monochromatic: black. She's also become increasingly known (and sometimes mocked by her spouse) for a ridiculously large collection of shoes and boots, most with very tall heels, her compensation for being very short next to Donnie.
Her dimensions are 34B-24-36
Personality: Over the years since meeting her partner, Var has changed in more ways than anyone could have expected. In the final days of the Republic she was an angry, bitter, and caustic woman who clung to fear and aggression to keep her motivated. She didn’t allow others to get close, and her inner pain and demons were sources of fury to be channeled in crisis.
Underneath that façade of cold, rude, mockery there was something else. Deep down, Var’s motivations were something she was ashamed of. She had always disappointed the authority figures in her life, failed to live up to her potential, and personally failed at her goals. The bitter taste of failure was in her mouth, mingling with guilts and regrets, and coated in loneliness.
Then she met Donnie, and began changing bit by bit. No longer being lonely aided her, and she was able to talk for the first time about her true personal self and her history. She was able to finally heal old wounds and move on to a new stage in her life. She became a dedicated partner to Donnie, sensitive to her needs, supportive in time of difficulty.
Var blossomed. Normalcy entered her life and she adopted a set of very mature policies. She loves Donnie deeply, but understands that they both have different needs. For 90% of their mutual needs, they can satisfy each other with companionship and intimacy. But for the remaining 10%, Donnie needs more physicality, and Var needs more experience. It is with this understanding that periodically they take a break and Var goes out in nice clothing with a charming male companion, watches an opera or concert, and enjoys a fine dinner and intimacy. Though her commitment is to Donnie and she typically prefers women, Var hasn’t ever been able to be with another woman and not feel unfaithful to Donnie. When she chooses men to be with, Var is extremely selective.
She enjoys a very good relationship with ‘the kids.’ Niri is, honestly, hard to keep up with. She finds Enarin much easier to work with, and Var is typically the proverbial Dad in the family. She has honestly considered getting a pipe and velvet smoking jacket.
In daily life despite her advancements, Var still tends to be very private. She doesn’t like to disrobe in front of anyone but an intimate partner, and she doesn’t like to talk with strangers about herself beyond the common knowledge. Her personal history is shared with very few, and she still hasn’t recovered from it. She enjoys the quiet, and values her peace. Which is of course hard to do when kids are around.
While Var has grown to stability in her small community among the Boska, her trust is extremely hard to obtain for others, and doubly so for Force-users. While she has a limited control of the Force herself, Var‘s experience has taught her that it is Force users who are the most dangerous threats to her. She sees additional layers to those who command the force, and almost in paranoid fashion she can assign hidden motivations, risks of betrayal, and pursuits of power to them. For that reason her actual trust is almost exclusively limited to those who lack the Force.
Despite her appearance, which is still dark and almost brooding, Var has learned to smile and laugh. She is much more agreeable than she used to be, though her glare is potent as ever. Old habits die hard though, and Var is cautiously observant at almost all times, aware of surroundings and looking for dangers. Now more than ever she is protective, not of merely herself but her family. In this one respect Var can still be as dangerous as she once was. She doesn’t stop when it comes to protecting her kin.
History: Varulla’aba was born on Ryloth, to a nurse by the name of Terana’aba, and a miner named Vorin’aba. She was the only daughter, and the spitting image of her mother, save for the blue eyes of her father. It was fortunate that she was the only daughter, as her family was quite poor. But still for the first years, between her parents and Supisy’ven, a close friend, Varulla was well-cared for. She was able to crawl very quickly, and then to walk. The delighted parents were swiftly impressed by the way she could even do actual things, and very alarmed at how she managed to get into every childproofed cupboard and through every door.
However, Vorin’s work in the spice mines was complicated by an accident. Fumes were released, and given the poor safety standards and ventilation, he wound up with a degenerative lung disease. He tried to find other work, but continually failed, and Varulla watched each day as her father’s health grew worse. Terana watched as well, and made a grave error in judgment by quietly taking a Hutt’s loan to afford medicine. Despite even that, Vorin’s progress could not be halted, and he died in Varulla’s sixth year. And then the loan came due.
Terana wasn’t able to pay, and nobody would miss one woman on Ryloth. She was abducted and auctioned, and Varulla was left behind, lost and confused. Supisy couldn’t afford to take her in, so she entrusted the girl to an orphanage. The orphanage had been meant to be temporary, but it was only for a few months. A rich human couple ‘adopted’ Varulla, without papers, and merely used the girl as unofficial slave labor. They couldn’t even be bothered to say her full name, and clipped it. It was the beginning of Var’s rebellious streak, and she began plotting on ways to escape their lavish home. Her opportunity came when they were traveling to Eriadu, where they lived the majority of the time. Var was able to quietly slip away from them and sneak onto a cargo ship instead.
Luckily for her it was a smuggler vessel headed to Tatooine instead of a further destination. If it had been any longer a trip she likely would have died from the lack of food and water. As it was, she was extremely weak and dehydrated. The smugglers debated amongst themselves what to do with the girl, and the Captain put his foot down. They took her to a local healer in Mos Espa, and left her on the doorstep.
The healer did nurse the Twi’lek girl back to health, treating dehydration with rest and fluids. However every bit of charity had a cost, as Var learned when, to ‘pay her debt’, she was sold into slavery. It lacked even the dignity of a formal slave auction, as it was merely a backroom deal with a shopkeeper named Madon Dell. He ran a pawn shop that was as disreputable as he was. Illegal goods flowed freely, and he wanted to flaunt his Twi’lek slave. Not that an eight year old had much to flaunt. However, what mattered most to him was his capriciousness. He enjoyed being able to order Var at whim, to make him caf or food, to clean his messes. Or even to simply respond to his foolish commands.
She quickly discovered that obeying his commands was less likely to provoke wrath, which did come often enough as it was. If he misplaced an item he would accuse ‘the little bitch’ of taking it, and try to beat the location out of her. Sometimes it was fists. But as he escalated over the course of two years, it turned into objects. First belts, and then a whip. Var tried to escape, three times. She suffered a cracked rib, whippings so bad the sand rubbed into open wounds every time she tried to sleep on her corner of floor, and dark bruises all over her pale skin. It was too dangerous.
Var was 9, when Madon drunkenly molested her. The girl cried and cried for hours, and then she tried escaping again, begging passers-by for help and telling what had happened. Madon caught up and broke her wrist dragging her back. He felt ‘humiliated’ by her protestations, and he quickly closed his shop and headed out into the desert to take over an Uncle’s moisture farm. Unofficially, the reason why was to prevent Var from escaping as his abuses escalated.
This time though, she was determined. One night she stole food, water, and clothing and began walking. Though no typical child of 10 could choose almost certain death, Var was not typical, and knew very well that she couldn’t endure more of it. So she moved off through the desert, finding shelter in a cave during the heat of the day, trying to conserve her energy and supplies. She fell asleep though, very deeply, and was awakened by two people arriving. Thankfully neither was Madon.
They were a girl a little older than Var, and an old man with beard and hood. They gave Var better food and water, and explained that they had been travelling through when they’d stumbled onto her cave to shelter from a sandstorm in. The way they spoke to Var was kind, and they respected her, asked her for permission to share a cave she had no claim to. And they listened, they heard her story about Madon and why she’d run. And most amazingly, they promised to take her with them.
And they did.
As Var discovered, they were Altisian Jedi, which were like Jedi, but a little different. What was more, she discovered she was mildly Force Sensitive. Master Aprion Varntelik and his pupil Shrina Denari were both willing to give Var a chance, and as they returned to Bespin, home of their enclave, she began learning. Or trying to learn. She’d never learned to read properly, and the task of explaining even that was daunting. Even once arrived and accepted as a student, Var still found herself nearly hopelessly behind everyone else.
Worst of all, she could feel Shrina’s annoyance at having to share time with Var, whose instruction was essentially a full time job. And while the Twi’lek could hold a lightsaber, and lift a stone with the Force, she was still far disadvantaged for her age. What she needed was a miracle, and at even her late age Aprion did his best to arrange one.
How many favors he called in was unknown, but a full Orthodox Jedi named Kendon Baren acquiesced and took Var into the Order Proper. The decision was controversial, and from day one as Var headed to Coruscant, it was clear to her that she was an outsider to all the Jedi. She had not trained in a Youngling Clan, or passed any sets of Trials. She knew no one, she didn’t know the traditions, and she had no friends. Kendon made no secret his disdain for her abilities, and every single time she demonstrated anything she learned, he made her do it over again differently. Nothing she did was adequate for him. What was more galling was that his disappointment was practically tangible. She knew he’d be better off spending his time with any other student.
Kendon was widely considered to be one of the most technically correct Jedi of his age, and he had practically memorized sets of principles and behavioral codes. He certainly never hesitated to apply them all to Var. What he didn’t apply was sympathy, or compassion. When he was present he expected work from the Padawan, and he expected that work to be done well. If she failed, he would make note of it in his datapad. And Var knew what that meant. Extra work, extra labors, denied pleasures. Punishments for not meeting the high standard. Everything was strict, rigid, and technical. It made her feel like a droid.
Failure after failure for years sank in, and Var became increasingly pessimistic of her abilities. She’d learned one lesson well at least: You can’t do anything right. It had succeeded in making her duplicitous. Inside she was bitter and unhappy, outside she would politely say whatever she was expected to say. However in her heart she’d already determined that leaving would be wise.
Another Padawan her age named Macton Dren was the one who helped. Together the two who had been paired together as sparring partners plotted an escape, and they were able to make it on a regular outing, slinking off to Empress Teta. It was Macton who had the ideas about the Dark Side, and about how anger and hate could be powerful tools. He persuaded Var, and while she never was able to wield the kind of dark power he did, she was still able to enhance her own abilities through her fear and anger.
After a year though, Var caught on to a grim fact. He was much more advanced, and she was ‘holding him back.’ She learned that much from clever spying, from listening in, and from reading his private thoughts. Her fear grew, and she became convinced it was a matter of time until he’d try to kill her to test his power.
Var decided a pre-emptive strike was her best chance, and she obtained a sonic blaster. When he was in the shower, she stood outside the curtain, and fired three shots in. At that close range there wasn’t much left of him. Of course she’d committed a crime by the standards of the Tetan authorities, and so she ran.
Luckily for her, she ran into the Miki Boska Twi’leks, who had arrived in the unsettled portion of Empress Teta for an annual festival. They considered her a lost sister in need, and she was able to quietly disappear with them. She flew with them a whole year in space, learning some basic piloting and repair techniques, becoming better acquainted with a blaster pistol. Var was tattooed with a special set indicating her status as a friend to the clan she flew with. However after a year she was content to leave, and found herself on Eriadu, trying to make some kind of living. What she found was that for someone willing to blur the ethical lines, there was a lot of work to be done on Eriadu. She took her lightsaber and her sonic blaster and began a limited bounty-hunting career with a gang of Devaronians. Moonlighting without the Guild license was an interesting experience, as she rarely did legitimate work. But it kept her alive and in food, and she was even able to upgrade her equipment and practice her Force skills on her own pace. However the Jedi took notice of a lightsaber being wielded, and Var fled from a pair of Guardians who were dispatched. The escape was only narrow.
From her flight, Var headed as far as she could get with the aim of avoiding the Jedi, and of avoiding the war. Neither were palatable as far as she was concerned, and she doubted either side would trust an unaligned force-user any further than she would trust them.
In her flight from Eriadu, Var made it to the planet of Garqi where pure chance reared its head again. She’d sheltered with the Miki Boska once before, and the charity of Doneetas’oaknadaa allowed her to do so again. However, the charity, mingled with some alcohol, led to the end of a very long dry spell.
What had begun as something physical, and a little awkward, grew into a relationship. Pursuit from the Jedi also fell out of possibility as the Empire was formed by Palpatine. However Var doubted it would be any better if the Empire caught her. She resolved to lie low with Donnie.
It was around that time when she discovered Donnie had a son.
That was a major surprise to Var, and she had to think over it for some time. In the end she realized that she herself still had secrets, things she’d hidden away and not shared, and couldn’t hold anger for Donnie over it. The two wound up closer still.
In 18 BBY, Donnie’s project was coaxing Var out of her shell sexually. Var’s prudishness had been tested already by stumbling into the ship’s sex room, which she promptly dubbed the Cock Pit. However Donnie was insightful enough to know there were things the two couldn’t give each other. So with gentle encouragement, and some prodding and shoving, Donnie managed to coax Var into seeing very select men on luxurious ‘high end’ dates. And Var had to admit that sparkling wine and caviar weren’t things Donnie was good at providing. What solidified it though was a gesture of true commitment to offset the sexual liberation, in the eyes of the Boska, Var and Donnie officially became a recognized couple. And then the two were both able to, ironically, enjoy physicality with other people.
It did, however, lead to the absolute greatest shock of Var’s life in 17 BBY when a lovely night with a remarkably well-dressed and articulate Nautolan produced a child. Var hadn’t even know Twi’leks and Nautolans were compatible, least of all that they’d be able to conceive. And beyond that, she had absolutely no clue of what to do with a child. It was fortunate Donnie had gone through pregnancy, because she was able to aid Var, coaxing and helping her through gestation and through a birth.
The child was a girl, who was formally named Nieriaba’soaknadaa Garnudcha O’ta. Nieri being her most basic name, Aba being Var’s clan name, Oaknadaa being Donnie’s family name, and O’ta being the family Donnie’s family was sworn to as War Guard (Garnudcha). Niri, as she was swiftly nicknamed by virtue of having two parents with unruly names who liked clipped nicknames, was the spitting image of her mother in at least one way: Alabaster white skin. Her eyes were pure black though, with the nictitating membrane of a Nautolan, and she had an intermediate number of headtails that grew out steadily with age. Too long for Nautolans, too many and too small for Twi’leks.
Var and Donie debated over the color of tattoo to choose for Niri. Ultimately Var and Donnie reached an agreement: Green. Representing honesty, integrity, and courage. It was a favorite of pilots, which Donnie longed for the child to grow to be, and honesty had become one of Var’s favorite traits from dealing with Donnie’s son.
Around that time Var became more involved with Donnie's family, and found out something interesting. Terana'aba, her mother, had been rescued by the Boska and passed away in 20 BBY of a degenerative medical condition. Before then she'd worked as a nurse, and had helped take care of Donnie. It finally gave Var much needed closure on her past.
Having not one, but two children underfoot led to a very busy few years, and time practically flew by with the Boska to 11 BBY and the Grancha Hasa at Abregado-Rae, in the Core. An enormous celebration out on the rolling hills, attended by all the Boska, was simply too convenient a target for the xenophobic Empire to pass up.
Midway through the celebration the Empire began arresting Boska Twi’leks, capturing their ships, and shooting resisters. Var and Donnie escaped with their children, thanks in no small part to Var’s force-abilities and Donnie’s quick thinking.
The Boska were scattered with a bloody nose, and many wound up in Imperial Labor Camps. However those who had escaped had a pressing need for newer and better ships, as many of the old ones scrapped by the Empire had been centuries old. They found the beginning of their new fleet on their way away from Abregado-Rae, in the Giju Outer Sector Derelict Authority. It was a Munificent Class Frigate, originally the Banking Clan’s warship Paradox of Rationality, with the big guns removed post-war. It was an absurdly almost laughably huge ship, but heavily automated.
The Boska got it at a bargain price, and renamed it Pateesa Kwee-Kunee, The Friend Queen. Most of them quickly devised an alternate nickname based on the ship’s exasperating maintenance needs: Beeogola Nechaska. Stupid Little Princess. Still they called it home. Var was no exception, and quickly found her niche in the new community. Her dexterity and knowledge of blasters and hand-to-hand techniques made her a natural fit as an instructor for the Boska in defensive measures. Donnie, meanwhile, had a familial respect Var hadn’t ever noticed before, and was routinely involved in decision-making onboard the vessel. One of the biggest difficulties they faced was with Niri. She was six, and in the schools onboard the ship there were other children who taunted her for being mixed race. Niri would come home crying. Often in fact.
Donnie handled it better than Var. Which wasn’t to say she handled it especially well, but rather to say that Var was ready to find her old lightsaber and start lopping children’s heads off. There was no murder however, Donnie pulled strings with her family name and had the Captain of the ship personally lecture the offending children. On the Pateesa Kwee-Kunee, everyone listened to the Captain.
In 9 BBY Donnie and Var had another difficult patch. Var idly spotted the screen of a coworker, and to her shock discovered the subject of the pornographic video was Donnie. She’d filmed a rather… Shocking tape with an alien Var didn’t want to identify, and sadly the sheets were something she COULD identify.
When Var had time to calm down, she discretely asked Donnie about the incident and why it was done in her bed instead of the Cock Pit. The answer she received was that everything would be totally new in a few days anyway. She sold off the ship to her brother Vax entirely, and bought a new (or new-to-her) YT-2400, as a surprise. It meant no more ladder. It also meant much more space, and much more comfort.
The ship’s only disadvantage was an ungainly offset cockpit and unusual shape, which combined with the white color earned it the nickname of The Snowball. Niri and Enarin were both thrilled at getting bigger rooms. Var was thrilled at getting a full galley, and a Jacuzzi and the refresher.
Furnished with a newer and better ship, Var and Donnie were tasked with procurement. It was a skill they were quite good at. And it was nice to get away from Donnie’s new levels of Boska responsibility.
Miscellaneous Crap:
