Saga - PT Saga - OT Rose Garden, Evergreen Forest (2023 Kessel Run anthology; OCs and others)

Rose Garden, Evergreen Forest
by
Findswoman

In memoriam Findsdad (1943–2022)
native and resident of the Evergreen State
​

Era: Mostly Saga, with possible incursions into other eras
Characters: Anyone and everyone
Notes: This is my anthology of stories written for @ViariSkywalker ’s 2023 Kessel Run Challenge. Each weekly entry will be a separate story with its own title and headers describing era, characters, summary, etc. Individual entries may or may not connect to each other, and any characters—OC or EC—may appear at any time.
The title of course connects to my Rose Evergreen stories and OCs, and those characters will likely have a notable presence. But it also relates to the eclectic nature I hope this series will have: some stories may be like flowers in a garden, others will be like trees in a forest, and still others like both.
Acknowledgments: Once again, many thanks to @Raissa Baiard for beta-reading, as usual, and to Viari for bringing back a challenge destined to become a JCF Fanfic classic!

Contents
1. Cold Courage (Lasat mercenary introspection)
2. Say Yah to da U.R., Eh! (Ezra, Thrawn, post-Rebels, humor)
3. The Silence of the Frogs (OC descendant of Frog Lady, Grogu)
4. Night of the Terentatek (beast vs. Inquisitor, action)
5. Jedha Triptych (double drabbles, drama, unnamed characters)
6. Bridger 1, Purple Oaf 0 (Ezra, Zeb, Chopper, humor)
7. Gand Is (OC Gand child viewpoint)
8. Palo’s Sketchbook (Palo, Padmé, AU)
9. From a Holorecording Found in a Cabin Drawer on the Ghost (Kanan speaking to Hera, angst)
10. Red (Lasat OC introspection, touch of romance)
11. T Minus Rose (OC ensemble casts, action/adventure, reverse narrative)

 

1. Cold Courage

Prompt: Write a story of 100–1000 words with:

• The first sentence “He had not been courageous.”
• The following image as inspiration:
  
  Spoiler: Prompt image

  
  

Characters: Unnamed Lasat mercenary, various Wookiees
Summary: At a Life Day celebration on Kashyyyk not long after the Siege of Lasan, a Lasat mercenary is hailed as a hero by his Wookiee rescuers. The clan leader’s speech in his honor leads him to reflect on what he did and why, and on the meaning of courage.
Note: Once again, I thank @Raissa Baiard for beta reading.

---

He had not been courageous.

Karabast, no.

Courage was what you had when you had to deal with extraordinary circumstances. And this hadn’t been extraordinary. In a way, it’d been completely routine.

Because there was nothing extraordinary about doing your job. There was nothing, no, nothing extraordinary about fighting back when invaded. That’s why he had sabotaged and boarded the transport to begin with.

And there wasn’t anything extraordinary at all about using any means necessary to keep it from happening again. That’s why he had gunned down those ISB goons one by one. A dead enemy ain’t an enemy no more, he’d always heard said.

(Besides, if he’d been courageous, he would’ve taken out their leader, too—that paste-faced fellow with bantha chops who looked like a rotting giju was constantly hovering beneath his nose. He still wasn’t sure why he’d spared him. Maybe he’d just been tired. That was probably it. Not that it mattered now.)

And all that was why it was more than a little awkward to hear the Wookiee clan leader rattle on about how brave and courageous and heroic he had been. Sure, as leader it was his Ashla-given prerogative to rattle on, especially on one of the main holidays of his planet’s year: Life Day, they called it. But it was karabasting awkward all the same. Especially in the middle of winter, with snow crusting everything over and no protection from the elements except a formless red sheet draped over him, according to the custom of the day. It was all very well for the Wookiees, with their fur about three times longer than his own. But for his own part, he just wanted the leader to wrap up his speech so they could all get on to the banquet.

Then again, he thought, as the leader droned on, maybe he should just stuff these feelings of awkwardness and feel grateful. The Wookiees had rescued him, after all, and a few others too. Some of them were even here in the crowd with him now, also draped in the red sheets and also cold. (Maybe they were from the Southern Plateaus like him.)

But not all his people had been so lucky. And that paste-faced, bantha-chopped Human he’d spared? He’d seen him later, leading a battalion of troopers through the capital—and mowing down any and every Lasat they saw with those ion disruptor rifles of theirs.

So, yeah: if he’d really been courageous that day on that ISB transport, and finished the job and done more than finish the job, maybe no one would have needed rescuing in the first place. Not that it mattered now.

At that point, the Wookiee clan leader took hold of a near-hanging wroshyr branch and gently drew it forward for his audience to see better. Snow sprinkled to the ground as he moved it, revealing a few limp red-brown leaves. (The Lasat was not sure why he noticed this, given that he had tuned out most of the rest of the speech. But he did.)

[You see this branch, you see these leaves,] the leader said. [They are covered with snow. It has wilted them; it has turned their lush green to dead brown. But they are still leaves, and what is more, they are still wroshyr leaves. Just by hanging there, just by clinging to their tree, they will outlive the cold.]

[We here are like those leaves,] he continued. [We are having an early winter, and bitter; snow on Life Day is no lucky omen. So, too, is our Galaxy having an early winter, and bitter, with the rise of the Empire, who have enslaved our youth and ravaged so many worlds.]

Growls, grumbles, and hisses erupted from the audience. The leader waited for them to dissipate before he continued.

[But, even beneath the snow, we are still wroshyr leaves, clinging to our tree of life. We are still Wookiees—and Lasat, too, of course.] Here he nodded toward the Lasat and his fellows.

[And by being what we are, we will outlive the cold.]

The Lasat smiled to himself. That made sense to him, finally. He had done what he’d done that day in the ISB transport for no other reason than that he was what he was. Just like those wroshyr trees in the snow, just like the bristlecones on the slopes of Lasan’s Basalt Mountains, which were always covered with snow. There was no courageto it.

Or maybe that was courage.

All right, then, the Lasat pondered, as the clan leader began working toward his speech’s grand conclusion (something with high-flung imagery of trees and light and life). If it’s about being what you are, then what am I right now?

Well, dog-tired, for one thing. Spitting mad at the Empire for what they did. Everything they still do. Not over-happy with myself for not doing more.

But grateful, too. Relieved as all get-out that I’m alive and the Wookiees were able to rescue as many of us as they did.

And hungry? You better believe it.

Succulent roasts, rich winter ales, decadent cakes, and fresh-baked ’ookiees were brought out for the banquet. The Lasat tucked into them heartily and was pleasantly full and drowsy when he returned to his borrowed tree-dwelling later that night.

If this is courage, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, then maybe I’m more courageous than I think.

fin

Spoiler: Notes

The Southern Plateaus and Basalt Mountains are fanon locations on Lasan created by me and mentioned in various stories in the Lasan Series.
[/notes]

 

Thanks so much! Glad you enjoyed, and always glad to have you here.

Thank you! Yes, sadly, that is so often how it goes—right down to people being torn asunder for being themselves. But ultimately being yourself is the way to making it through. And if what you are if hungry, I say lean in—and tuck in! Especially when you have access to a Wookiee feast.

Amen to that—absolutely right. Thanks so much for reading and commenting, and I’m glad you enjoyed!

Oh, thank you so much! I really appreciate that, especially coming from you. The Lasat and Wookiees seem like sibling species, in a way, and I always loved that the Wookiees came to the aid of the Lasat when they needed it most, so I wanted them to be able to celebrate together too. I’m especially the chieftain’s speech came off as fitting—I know I’m not doing half bad if I can satisfy a Wookiee expert like yourself! And indeed, if our Lasat friend made it through the feast, he definitely has more courage than he gives himself credit for!

More coming very soon!

 

2. Say Yah to da U.R., Eh!

Prompt: Write a story between 400 and 800 words using second-person POV in which a character is lost.
Characters: Ezra Bridger, Thrawn, a mysterious voice
Timeframe: Right after the events of the last episode of Rebels
Summary: Pulled into hyperspace by the purrgil on Thrawn’s flagship, Ezra finds himself lost in hyperspace—and beyond. But it turns out not to be so bad, eh?
Note: I promised myself that if I ever wrote anything about the Unknown Regions, I would give it this title (based on this bumper sticker, well known in the States and expressing pride in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan). This prompt provided the perfect opportunity to do so. I had my awesome Michigander mod colleague @Mira_Jade in mind while writing this, and I think (hope) she’ll get the jokes! Thanks once again to @Raissa Baiard for beta-reading.

---

Well, now you’ve done it.

There’s no going back now. You knew that from the moment the purrgil king grabbed hold of the ship and had his subjects do the same with the rest of the fleet. You especially knew that from the moment you saw the giant tentacles flash their warning. You had no idea what their destination would be once they made the jump; that was one thing that never came through your connection to the king.

Here you are, with no lightsaber, with no friends, surrounded by enemies, hurtling through hyperspace. Not just hurtling, either: hurtling like you’ve never hurtled before. You’ve been in hyperspace plenty of times by now, but it’s never felt like this. This time it feels like the whole fabric of the universe is lurching and convulsing around you, as if trying to regurgitate the troublesome Star Destroyer stuck in its craw. (Your stomach is doing its share of lurching and convulsing, too.)

Also, on most hyperspace trips you’ve taken before, you’ve been able to feel at least a wispy Force-thread of the destination. (Kanan showed you how, once; it’s a kind of meditation.) But this time you can’t. Probably because your Force-bond with the purrgil king is taking up most of your concentration, but probably not just.

But that’s all right, because you made your plan, and you will stick with it. For Lothal, for your family, for the Force. You will not loosen your hold until you get to that mysterious destination. No matter where it is, and no matter what old Thrawn does.

The convulsions continue. The ship careers madly onward through the blue-white maelstrom. You are vaguely aware of His Grand Admiralship hissing something nasty and angry and Thrawnish in your general direction. You just stick your tongue out at him. And you don’t loosen your hold worth poodoo.

On and on and on through the whirl— who knows where you are by now, who knows when it will stop—

Just then everything jolts to a halt. In the same instant, everything goes dark. Like, totally pitch-black-velvoid dark. You hear confused murmurs from the crew and indeterminate noises of frustration from Thrawn. You’re pretty confused, yourself: what just happened? Where are you now? Is it where you were supposed to be going, or somewhere else?

And then, as if in answer to those questions, you hear a voice. You’re not really sure if it’s an actual voice voice or just one of those Force things, but it’s deep and slow, like some holovid announcers. And it says:

Welcome to da Unknown Regions, eh?

Okay, Unknown Regions, you’ve heard of them… not that it helps much in pinpointing your location. Or anything useful like that.

Meanwhile, Thrawn registers outrage. “What is the meaning of this?!” he hisses. “Googins! Get navigation back online this instant!”

Someone from the crew mumbles something about a console being locked up. This isn’t an acceptable answer for His Grand Admiralship, so he goes over to that person and argues with them a bit. So at least he’s out of your way for now, and you try your own luck.

“Uh… hi.”

The voice speaks, or at least manifests, once again: Hi dere. Ya ready to say yah to da U.R., eh?

And before you can reply— before you can even parse what was just said to you— something warm, fragrant, and foil-wrapped materializes in your hands. Forgetting for a moment that you’re on the bridge of a Star Destroyer in a not-very-charted part of the Galaxy, you unwrap it and chow down, savoring the hearty flavor of seasoned meat and vegetable chunks inside a buttery pastry wrapper. You were hungrier than you thought.

“Ffthanks,” you say through a mouthful. You glance over your shoulder; it’s still dark, but you can barely make out Thrawn still deep in discussion with the navigator at one of the side consoles. Which is fine with you.

Yer welcome, the voice responds. Someone’s gotta treat ya to da real Yoorer hospitality, after all, since the ol’ Admiral here ain’t gonna.

“Mhm.” You munch further.

And now? All ya gotta do is relax. Enjoy. Spend all your credits. The mysterious speaker pauses meaningfully before continuing. Just don’t move here, eh?

“Mhm,” again. Which is fine, because you weren’t planning to. Aurek, you still have no idea where “here” is, and besh, you’ve got a family back on the other side of the Galaxy anyway.

But for now, as you take another succulent bite of pahss-tii (as you somehow know it’s called), you think you might just be able to say yah to any experience the Galaxy throws at you.

fin

Spoiler: Explanation of the jokes

By way of a brief explanation of the rather esoteric humor in this story: “The U.P.” is the nickname of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (north central USA, surrounded by the Great Lakes and bordering Canada). The U.P. is known for its distinct culture, dialect, and sense of humor, and people from there call themselves “Yoopers” (hence “Yoorers” for the U.R.—yes, I know, not very original). Pasties are a local specialty, a heritage from Cornish miners who once settled in the area. The “Relax, spend all your credits, just don’t move here” gag comes from this sign, part of a notable U.P. tourist attraction known as Da Yoopers Tourist Trap.

 

Once more, I am truly sorry for your loss. This is a beautiful dedication.

I love how you were able to build a nameless EC from the ground up in this piece with just a few words. I could feel his weariness and the weight of his depression - that despondency that comes from loss and makes it difficult to see value and worthwhileness in living with that loss.

I really liked the phrasing of these few lines!

Oh, but this thought hurts.

Another excellent detail!

I know that this is a large pull, but I just love this from top to bottom! First, this is excellent worldbuilding. This a hundred percent feels like Wookiee philosophy, and the imagery you invoked in the speech is gorgeous! It's something we can all relate to, too - feeling like that leaf clinging to a life-giving tree in the snow and waiting for the cold to pass. It's all incredibly poignant, and of course it resonates with this Lasat fella, too!

I love how he tied the Wookiees' philosophy with details from his own home.

More fantastic characterization, all! Now it's definitely time to eat up and be full.

YAAAAAAAAAAS, I LOVED EVERY WORD OF THIS MORE THAN I CAN SAY!!! And, as the U.P. really is Wisconsin's as much as it is Michigan's, that made this all the more special!

lololl!! I loved this imagery. It was very Ezra in its POV, and very fitting.

I loved the phrasing of this, too! Yep, very Ezra, and very Rebels!Thrawn.

I LITTERALY LAUGHED OUT LOUD HERE. OMIGOSH, YES TO ALL THE THINGS!!!!

Mmm, patsies. And now I'm hungry.

*wheezes*

Yah, indeed!


Your Run is off to an excellent start, and I can't wait to read whatever you're inspired to write next!

 

Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments!

Hah! My parents used to listen to that all the time! Yes, I guess it is basically that same kind of humor only GFFAified! Glad you enjoyed it; thanks so much!

Thanks! Yeah, Thrawn will just have to deal, won’t he?

Thanks, Gabri, I appreciate it. This group of stories is the first writing I’ve done after he died, and it has been very therapeutic in its way.

Thanks so much—I certainly tried! The fact that the image was from a tree immediately pointed me in the Wookiee direction.

Thanks so much! Definitely one of the challenges of working within word count restrictions!

Ah, what part of the Southwest are you in? My husband grew up in Tucson, and both his sisters now live in the Phoenix area, so I’ve visited and enjoyed both. I grew up in Chicago and now live in Madison, Wisconsin, so Michigan is my sister state of sorts.

Oh, I certainly would! Though as my dentist could probably tell you, it takes a whole lot less than a Star Destroyer to make me gag!

Someone has to think of poor, dear old Ezra in this predicament, I figure!

You are so welcome! I hope it was helpful, and I really appreciate you coming by and checking this out!

Yah, 'fraid so!

You’re so welcome, and I’m so glad this could send a few laffs your way!

Thanks so much! There’s a bit of a culture barrier between the Lasat and his Wookiee hosts, and naturally it would take him some time to make sense of their philosophy and apply it to himself, but his ultimate gratitude to them wins out and inspires him to take that plunge. And indeed, that kind of thing is much facilitated by a full belly!

That’s really neat! I looked up that rock—pretty wacky, and feels like a very Yoop phenomenon for some reason!

Ah, that voice is whatever you want it to be. Ezra is on the adventure of his life right now and needs all the encouragement he can get—and if it comes directly from the spirit of the place where he happens to be, that’s all the better! So glad you enjoyed this, and thanks again for coming by!

Thanks so much, Mira. <3 This challenge is, again, the first fanfic writing I’ve embarked on since his death, and whether the stories are humorous or serious, they have so far been a very helpful thing for me as I come to terms with my grief.

Thanks so much, and I am glad that came through! I’ve never exprienced anything as dire as this character has, so I very much wanted to do his feelings and experiences justice.

Thanks! He’s torn between genuine gratitude to his hosts and impatience to get it all done with and get on to the feasting. Which one can’t entirely blame him for in a situation like this!

Yes, exactly. People remember those little local characteristics, even when far away from home (or when home is gone).

I agree, I agree.

Thanks! I have done exactly the same thing myself in the past. Who knows what makes us suddenly listen when we were tuning out before!

Thank you so much! I’m glad this came off so well to you and the others; again, with the tree image, my thoughts went straight to the Wookiees, who know exactly how life-giving trees can be, even in the cold. Maybe a Lasat leader giving a similar speech might have chosen other imagery, but this Lasat is able to connect the ideas to his experience nonetheless, and that right there is already a gesture of gratitude to his hosts.

Thanks again! It’s kind of the moment when it clicks; see my response above.

Oh yes, there is no better way to recruit the inner being and step up the ol’ inner courage!

You’re right, it really is, isn’t it! I would love to visit sometime; from you and so many others I have heard it’s incredible. So glad I was able to make a born-and-raised Michigander happy with this! <3

Thanks! As I said above, if I were a hyperspace channel, I’d want to regurgitate that troublesome Star Destroyer, too. Gag!

Aren’t they just the absolutest, completest foils?

Thanks again! I’m so glad I was able to make you LOL with this, and I knew you would get it immediately!

Me too, me too. I love those things. I try to make them myself now and then, but they’re pretty involved, and it’s been a bit of a learning curve to get them just right! (Incidentally, they’re another thing Wisconsin and Michigan share—they’re a fairly big thing in parts of southern Wisconsin that used to be settled by the Cornish.)

I’m sure you recognized the reference even without the notes!

And eh, too!

Thank you! So glad you are enjoying—always a delight to have you as a reader!

Oh yes, Thrawnish is no fun to be around, probably not even for the people who are on Thrawn’s side!

I totally would not put that exact variety of poseurship past him!

Oh ho, perhaps that’s the next story of this 'verse! I’ll have to remember that! Thanks so much once again for reading and commenting, and just for being back! <3

Thank you so much, my friend, I appreciate this very much! As you know, I’ve been interested in writing about this character for a while, and that very contrast between the “courageous” prompt and the character’s perception as this HORRIBLE COLDBLOODED KILLER (by the fandom, too) was indeed part of what drew me to him here. (And, of course, I am glad to take any opportunity to dunk on that bantha-chopped fellow. ) You make a good point about his courage: to someone who is naturally courageous, it would of course not necessary feel like anything special, and it wouldn’t need much in the way of external bolstering. (My mother once said, “You know the Scots must be tough when their battle marches have titles like ‘Blue Hills' and 'The Nut-Brown Maiden.'” )

Hah! In a way, it wasn’t quite what I expected to write at very first, either! I’m glad the characterization of both Ez and Thrawn was able to please a diehard Rebels fan like yourself; again, they really are perfect foils. And you’re right, in a way, this U.R. really turned out to be an extension of the SpaceMidwest of the Kanson-Wiss sector and similar, kind of the way the U.P. is the wild side of the Earth Midwest. Just what our hero needs after a crazy hyperspace journey, and I share your hope that the U.R. spirit will be beside him on all his travels!

Thanks so much! You know I feel the same about your Kessel Run, too, which I’ve been enjoying immensely!

Thanks so much! That’s very true, this last couple years has indeed felt like a long winter. But spring is coming, and we can’t forget that!

So do I! I have heard it’s spectacular.

Hah, you’re right, this would have fit that challenge to a tee, too, just like your zany Disney World piece—I remember that well!

Well, yeah, that attitude is all too widespread in every universe, unfortunately. But given the hospitality that otherwise characterizes the U.P. of our world, I get the feeling that the sign that gag is based on isn’t quite meaning to go for the out-and-out xenophobic angle. More like, “this place is so quirky and isolated that you might want to think hard about what you’re getting into before you consider moving out here”! (Of course, @Thumper09 ’s uncle was one of the brave folks who did, with good results! )

Thank you so much! One of the great things about this challenge is the way the variety of prompts prompt a variety of different kinds of writing—one can stretch a lot of writerly muscles that way! Always appreciate your coming by to read and comment.

Good, good, I’m so glad! I know I was referencing a very specific local humor tradition here, one not even all of my US readers are likely to have familiarity with, so I am doubly glad that you were able to find it enjoyable, too!

Thanks so much, and again, I am so glad you were able to enjoy this after all! Wherever our boy is, I hope he is able to find some kind of guidance and hospitality far away from home. Pasties would indeed be great too, but I am sure he will take what he can get!

Oh yes, I have heard it is quite beautiful up there! (I believe you can see the Northern Lights regularly, for one thing!) The weather can be seriously rough, though, especially in the wintertime.

You are so welcome, and thank you for reading, commenting and enjoying!

Thanks so much, I appreciate that. <3 I am working through it as best I can, and this challenge has been very therapeutic in its way so far!

Thank you so much, I really appreciate your checking it out!

Thanks! I think there’s some hidden complexity to this nameless, “mentioned-only” character, and that’s part of why I have been curious to write about him for a while—to give him a chance to sort through some of that. And this was the chance, I guess!

Thanks! I did want him to have a good side under there—that’s part of the above-mentioned hidden complexity, too. And he and his compatriots present at this celebration have every reason to be grateful to the Wookiees.

Thanks—I figure that’s an understandable feeling for someone who’s had the kind of experiences this guy has had.

Thanks so much! Again, that tree prompt really screamed “Wookiee” to me!

Yep, exactly! Once he thinks about it a bit, he can apply this imagery from this other culture to himself and his people, and it will all make sense at last.

Oh, thank you! I figured a feast would be a good way to sum it all up: there’s no better way to at once fortify the inner being and express gratitude. And of course self-knowledge is a much easier proposition with a full stomach!

Hah! Yah, that’s about the size of it, eh!

Thank you so much! Really appreciate your coming by to read and comment, and I hope you will enjoy what’s to come! (And more is around the corner shortly!)

 

3. The Silence of the Frogs

Prompt: Write a story between 500 and 1,000 words in which you make up a new OC (original character). Your OC must interact with at least one EC (established character), and your story must include the following line of dialogue: “Something was bound to go right sometime today.”
Characters: OC descendant of the Frog Lady, a grown-up Grogu, OCs
Timeframe: Beyond, at some point
Notes: Thanks once again to @Raissa Baiard for beta-reading.

---

It was time.

Ool stretched out and stood. Her family members around her in the hydrochamber did the same. They were emerging from Reincubation: in the planet-cycle following a death, the descendants recreated the dormancy of egg-time as a foretaste of death. The next step was to prepare for the Sending: the returning of Grandmother to the Waters.

Grandmother had been both a loving matriarch to her family and a heroine to her people. Long ago, when her kind had been near extinction, she had wandered the galaxy, hauling her last clutch of eggs with her, and had braved many dangers to travel to Trask. There she reunited with Grandfather, and they set up a home for their spawn. Others of their kind came there, too, and the species was able to revive.

Now, after many happy years, old age had claimed her, and it was time for her to be gathered to the Waters. Ool lived by the Shore, so she was to host the Sending. She had loved Grandmother dearly and hoped everything would be perfect on her last day on Land.

But she had no such luck. The moment Ool emerged from the hydrochamber she found herself about, datapad in hand, wrangling family members, guests, holy folk, cooks, and others. Things kept going wrong: blustery weather, late arrivals, last-minute changes to the ceremony (and to the menu), family members unable to come, and of course the arguments: who would get to stand where on the Shore, what to cook (and how much), and which females would lead which parts of the funerary chorusing (this argument caused one clutch-sister to storm out in high dudgeon). It didn’t help that Ool was expecting her first clutch of eggs and was already feeling laying pains. The Reincubation, it seemed, had expedited the process.

Finally the hour came. Ool felt a surge of relief as she stood on her porch with her husband, Noff, looking toward the Shore. The clouds were lifting, and the golden worldshine of Kol Iben— Trask’s gas-giant companion— now colored the sky.

“Thank the Waters,” Ool sighed, resting her head on Noff’s shoulder. “Something was bound to go right sometime today.”

“There’s still time,” came Noff’s quiet reply— and then, seeing Ool’s quizzical look, added, “For things to go right, of course. Grandmother deserves it. As do you.”

He held Ool closer, and she nestled closer, hoping he was right.

*

Everyone was gathered at the Shore now, in an arc around the boatlike wooden casket holding Grandmother’s remains. The sky was bright; only a few clouds wisped by, and the Waters were calm. The chorusing began, with the skilled females leading, and soon the plaintive sounds of keening, peeping, and chittering filled the warm afternoon sky. Ool joined in where she could, but the laying pains were coming more often now, and it was difficult to concentrate. She tried to take her mind off it by looking around at the crowd.

Then she noticed the newcomer.

It was no one she had seen before, nor a member of any species she knew: an anthropoid clad in plain brown robes, but less than a meter tall, and with leaf-green skin. Long, tapered ears protruded from either side of a round head, and round black eyes gazed intently forward. Ool watched closely; the being was causing no disturbance, but she wanted no chaos today.

After the chorusing died away, the Great Silence began. The same afternoon air that had been filled with chittering voices was now empty of sound as those present meditated silently on the deceased. Again, Ool tried to, but it was difficult between the pains and keeping one eye on the newcomer.

Just then the newcomer walked up and placed something atop the casket— a sparkling blue-white crystal. The green-skinned being stood beside the casket and the crystal for a few moments, with eyes closed, then rejoined the group. When the moment of Sending came and the casket was launched into the water, the bright object on top gleamed in the westering sun as it floated off horizonward. Everyone watched until it could no longer be seen.

As the guests were leaving, Ool lingered a few moments looking over the Waters— then turned to see the green being approaching her. Looking down with her brightest hostess eyes, she said, “Welcome.”

“Hello,” the being replied in a soft but high-pitched voice.

“I’m Ool,” Ool offered, extending her hand. The newcomer took it in his tiny three-fingered one.

“Grogu is my name. I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you.” Ool paused. “Did you— know my grandmother?”

“Yes, long ago.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Sometimes she looked after me when my father was away.”

“Ah.”

“But I— wasn’t always good to her.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I— I stole some of her eggs and—” He stopped short, and Ool thought she could see a tinge of pink in his face. “I was very small then. But I felt bad about it later, when I learned your people were dying out. I was afraid I’d…” He trailed off and looked downward, still blushing.

“Well, er—” Ool wasn’t sure what to say, as she still didn’t know what it was this being had done— and wasn’t sure she wished to. “When we’re small, we don’t— always—”

“I know. That’s why I gave her my first kyber crystal. To make up for it.”

“I see.” That was what he had set atop the casket, of course. Ool had heard of them; they were valuable. “That was… generous.”

“Thank you. But also, just being here, seeing you all— that comforted me. I’m… glad you all made it after all.”

Ool smiled. “Thank you, Grogu. So am I.”

“Well, I should go. Thanks again, Ool. It was good to meet you.”

“Likewise. Take care.”

Grogu nodded and walked off. Ool lingered several moments by the worldlit Shore until the biggest laying pain of all twinged through her, and she turned homeward. It was time.

fin

Spoiler: Notes

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Trask
https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kol_Iben

Yoda, Grogu, and their species have been described as froglike too, of course.