** Autumn on Aliso**
Kalen met Corra at her father's shop as she was getting off work. It was a regular occurrence these days, and the old tailor even smiled and chatted with the Jedi about the weather, the ‘Fleet’ or his attire now instead of just giving him dirty looks. Kalen still hadn't worked up the nerve to ask if he could have Corra move in with him. And time was getting short now. The building materials for the prefab 2 bedroom home had arrived, and Kalen had already paid for the first year's lease on the 2 acre property in the new North Creek subdivision. 

It was an area just north of the main city that had only been opened up for development in the past few months. Kalen hadn't even told Corra about the property yet, as far as she knew they were going to rent an apartment or suite somewhere in the city. But Kalen, being the hopeless cheesy romantic that he was, had actually leased the creekside property that was directly adjacent to the vacant lot where they had gone on their first date. The makeshift fire pit where they had been on an impromptu double date was even still there. 

So…this was it. A crew of local tradesmen would be building the house over the next few days, and they'd be able to move in anytime after that. Kalen had even noted Corra pointing out furniture from local stores that she liked and would return a day or 2 later and purchase the items. All the items were slated to be delivered the following monday to his new address, Lot #333, North Creek, Aliso.

But still. The Tailor, Kalen had to man up and ask permission from the barrel chested gruff former member of the ‘willing’. Unlike the Subjugates and other former slaves, the Tailor had served honorably as a flight deck warrant officer and later as a chief in the Ascendant Fleet and had been granted an indefinite furlough(a defacto retirement) about 1 year before the Cantonica Accord were signed.

Kalen had heard the basics of her family history and how Corra's mother had died of a mysterious disease that had spread rapidly aboard a few of the Clan Plagueis Lauren mere days before they had recolonized Aliso. He also knew how many of his fellow clan mates appeared to hold the Tailor in high regard, with many of the elite of Plagueian and Alisoan society patronizing his shop whenever they needed new threads.

“Is your dad in?” Kalen said as Corra grabbed her jacket from the coat rack in the corner.

“Yeah, he's in the back working on a new dress for Nora I think. Why, whats up?” Corra asked.

“I figured I'd ask him today, I've been putting this off long enough.”

“Wait, are you serious?” She ran over to him and placed her hand on his cheeks. “Right now?” Her cheeks got red.

“Yeah, sure, I love you, and you stay with me every night I'm here on Aliso anyway…” Corra stopped him by planting a kiss on his lips.

“I love you too…ok, lets do it.”

“Dont bother, permission is granted.” the Tailor said as he leaned on the doorframe which led to the back room.

“Oh Sith…jeez Dad, you walk like a karkin force ghost sometimes.” Corra said as she whirled around before catching herself and realizing he had just said yes.

“Wait, you said yes?” Corra then ran across the room and smothered her father with a hug.

“Thank you sir, I love your daughter more than life itself and I plan to make a nice home for us…” Kalen spurted out.

“I know you do Mr. Joss, and I see how much she loves you too. The day before you arrive for your duty rotation ever few weeks she starts acting like a lovestruck school girl and I know you'll be picking her up when we close up shop the next day, and I'll be eating supper alone…” The Tailor said as he kissed his daughter on the forehead before she walked back over to Kalen.

Kalen caught the last reference and could sense the man's internal turmoil. Since hanging out with his new Ventressian pals, his use of his force senses of precognition and telepathy had become somewhat more morally ambiguous. If he wanted to know what someone was thinking he was more apt to just lightly invade their thoughts then he had been even a few months before. He could sense that the old veteran was torn between letting his daughter pursue a more serious relationship with the naive young Jedi and his own sense of foreboding loneliness. 

Kalen left his mind and he noticed the Tailor's thoughts drifting towards old scenes of him and Corra's mother during their courtship. Kalen may have become morally ambiguous about using his senses, but he certainly wasn't going to eavesdrop on intimate memories like that.

“Well, you'll always be welcome for supper Mr. Sillaru.” Kalen said.

“Call me Karn…” The Tailor said as he turned to head back to his sewing room.

“Hey, I got a table reserved for us at Margens Noodle House in about 10 minutes, why don't you come and join us?” Kalen offered.

“Yeah Dad, get out of this stuffy place for a bit, come have dinner with us. You can eat that old Nerf stew for lunch tomorrow instead” Corra said, recanting on their earlier conversation about what he would have for supper.

What ensued was a night Kalen would never forget. Not only did he get permission to move in with Corra, he also got a new father figure. The 3 of them sat and chatted about everything under the suns for several hours in a corner booth at what would soon become their favorite eatery.

Astralis didn’t much like summer. As large as he was there tended to be an inordinate amount of sweating any time the ambient temperature inched above twenty five degrees. Here on Tatooine the summer seemed exceptionally brutal what with two suns and all. His armor was stacked in the seat of the landspeeder and his skin felt baked under the scorching twin suns; it was way too hot for armor. He raised the dusty and hot metal macrobinoculars to his eyes and scanned the dunes to the East, looking for any sign of the Tuscans that had been following him for the bulk of the afternoon. Not surprisingly, he saw no sign of them. He sensed several of the in that direction but still was unable to verify their position visually. “Still no visual confirmation” Astralis heard his own voice come through the comlink in his ear. He knew that Furios was well aware of the exact position of the raiders as well as any other living thing within a few hundred kilometers - the benefit of having ships scanners at your disposal.
“Still keeping their distance, nothing to worry about” Furious’ electronically enhanced voice spoke into Astralis’ comlink earbud. Reassured, the giant knight thumbed the throttle and coaxed the speeder Eastward. After a few more kilometers of featureless, heavy dunes, Astralis decided it was too damn hot and he needed to stop and cover his skin from the hammering suns. He slowed the speeder and engaged stationary hover, reached over to the seat next to him and grabbed his gear bag, and stood up next to the speeder. He set his bag on the hood and untied the closure strings, opening the round top of the bag. He reached inside and pushed his hand through the gear, searching for his shirt. He definitely didn’t want to put his armor back on and he didn’t feel it particularly necessary. He hated to think of how miserable the summer heat would be without his force-control of his body temperature. He found the right-fitting, once-white undershirt over his head, deftly maneuvering his fingers around his long hair instead of tangling them in it. Once the shirt was covering his torso, he thought of a question for Furios. His mic and earpiece were still in place, so he said to the desert “just how hot is it here, Furios?”
“Not that hot, really. About thirty-five degrees” Furios replied. “You think this is bad, try running this mission in the summer”.
“What? This is summer” Astralis’ tone was slightly unsure and he was not able to hide the incredulity he felt.
“No, apprentice - it is late autumn” the earpiece stated with the voice of Furios.
“Truly? Asked Astralis. This is why I hate Tatooine, he thought. With his bulky mass of scarred muscle and his high-motor body, he was well suited for colder environments. What kind of axial tilt must this forsakes desert planet have in order to have such dramatic seasons? Astralis decided he’d had quite enough, autumn or not. He reached his right hand into hip pants thigh pocket and found the retrieval beacon. He pressed the activation stud on the beacon and closed the string on his gear bag. He tossed the bag into the speeder, reached down into the door panel and grabbed his water bottle. He leaned against the side of the speeder and took a long pull from the cold bottle. Autumn? This is autumn? What a terrible thing summer must be. He pictured Hoth as he heard the atmo thrusters of the shuttle coming to pick him up.

Participation only