Saga Season of Sharing (2023 Spring Bingo Challenge)

Title: Season of Sharing
Author: Seldes Katne
Summary: Students, faculty and guests at Sanbra University host a spring celebration showcase.
Word Count: 4925. This story is being posted in three parts. It includes all 25 words from the 2023 Spring Bingo Challenge. Thank you, @Chyntuck!
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Spoiler: If you need character background. Otherwise, read on!

Since this story doesn’t focus on Vestri Dain, you probably don’t need to read any of my other “Vestri-verse” pieces to understand what’s going on here. However, if you are interested:

Vestri Dain is first introduced in The Mythologist, when she is a graduate student at Coruscant University in the Anthropology/Sentientology program. One of her favorite haunts is Dex’s Diner, where she meets a variety of beings and begins collecting myths, legends and stories from various (mostly) non-human cultures.

The first post in The Mythologist thread includes links to most of her other stories, including specific pieces written for the 2022 Kessel Run Challenge and Notes from the Field, written for the 2021 Fanfic Summer Olympics Challenge.

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Season of Sharing
By Seldes Katne​

Penald Krull, the Besalisk Professor of Mid-Rim Literature at Sanbra University, inhaled deeply and smiled. “Aahhh! Spring is in the air! The days are getting longer, the breeze is getting warmer –”

“And everyone’s hay fever is kicking into high gear,” grumbled Osso Harch, Professor of Hyperspace Theory and Practice. The Thisspiassian sneezed.

Krull eyed him sympathetically. “Maybe you should walk over to the Infirmary and see if they can give you something for that.”

Harch growled. “Anytime I’ve taken medication for it, my head feels like it’s wrapped in a down pillow and the rest of me feels like I’m crawling through mud.” He sniffed. “So, how much of next week’s Cultural Fair will be outdoors?”

“About a third,” Krull replied, consulting his personal datapad. “Mostly large performances – group dances, some spiritual rituals, musical concerts….” His voice trailed off. “Hmmm. Gamorrean Warrior Training Dance. And the cafeteria will be featuring some traditional Gamorrean fungi-based foods, including a fungus soufflé and a dessert baked in a mud ball.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” Krull continued reading. “Neither of our species is listed in the ‘Dietary Warning’ section, so everything will be safe for us to eat.”

“Maybe that’s the day I should take something for my allergies.”

Krull grinned. “Maybe something there will cure your allergies.”

“Probably by killing me….”

~*~*~*~*~​

Sentientology Professor Tem Eliss studied the schedule of Spring Celebration events. “I notice we’re putting the two spiritual presentations first.”

“Yes,” Vestri Dain said. “Partly because they’re both meant to be solemn events, and partially because the Gungans need to be home by the end of the week to perform the ritual for real on Naboo.”

“Fair enough. This is their first time presenting this off-world, isn’t it?”

Vestri nodded. “They’re not going to do the full ritual – that’s reserved for the Gungan people and invited guests. A Shrine Keeper and four acolytes will do a general blessing and a hymn – a small part of the ritual. They’ll also do a question-and-answer session afterwards.”

The Iyra gestured his understanding with a pair of tentacles. “And the Kessurians will follow in the evening….

~*~*~*~*~​

Gungan Shrine Keeper Treece Vitay straightened her formal robes and glanced around at her four acolytes. All five had walked the Sanbra University main quad the day before to familiarize themselves with the area where they would perform their Spring Awakening Ceremony. All five had practiced the hymn, and Treece had been through the ritual many times in her life; she knew it by heart.

The quad’s center had been cleared, and a sizeable crowd had assembled behind the barricades. Two of the acolytes looked particularly nervous; Treece motioned the team into a circle and led a quick calming breath exercise. Then the circle broke, the acolytes moved to stand at the four compass points around Treece, and the Gungan Shrine Keeper scanned the crowd for Vestri Dain. Catching the Human’s eye, she nodded.

“Gentlebeings,” Vestri said into an amplifier, “We welcome you to the beginning of our Spring Celebration Festival. This week, we will present a variety of rituals, foods, and events showcasing some of the ways people throughout the galaxy mark the coming of spring on their worlds.

“We begin with a small portion of a ritual performed by the Gungans, the Indigenous people of Naboo. Please be respectful and quiet. The Gungans have asked that this event not be recorded – it’s meant as a spiritual experience, not as entertainment. Give them your full attention.” She did not add that vid-vox scrambler devices had been set up around the area to prevent recordings – just to keep everyone honest.

Vestri shut off the amplifier and turned to the hovercam droid floating beside her. “Sorry, Zeta.” The droid had once belonged to Vestri, but now operated as an independent agent, and currently worked in the university library’s Recordings Department.

“Disappointing,” Zeta admitted, “but I will abide by the request. May I stay and watch?”

“Of course. Everything on the main quad is open to any interested individual,” Vestri assured her.

Treece nodded to her team, and the five Gungans walked sedately to the center of the quad. She and three acolytes faced the first in the procession, who began to sing in High Gungan (with Vestri translating to Basic): <<Long ago, our ancestors looked up from the waters, and saw movement in the world around them. They experienced changes in the weather, as the rainy season began. They saw the migration of the tak-tak [birds similar to swallows], leaving for their journey north. And our people followed the birds, to explore the world beyond our swamps. >>

The team turned to face the acolyte on Treece’s left, who sang of the discovery of great herds of shaak and gualama, of the grasslands that yielded edible grains, and of the eventual domestication of the shaak, who would be moved from the swampland into the fields as winter passed in the north.

The team then faced the acolyte at the back of the group, who sang of fruit trees and berry bushes that would not grow in the swamp, but whose yields could be harvested each year in summer and autumn, along with a variety of nuts and roots.

The fourth acolyte sang of the again-changing weather and the tak-taks winging south, the strange whiteness that crept over the highest peaks to the north, and the homeward journey of the gatherers at the end of this season of plenty – back to the ever-warm swamps.

“For all t’ings move in circles,” Treece announced. “Our days, our years, our lives, our planets. And so, in the spring of each year, we sing a hymn to our gods, acknowledging their creation and its blessings.”

Throwing her head back, she began to sing:

<<The waters remember the birth of all things,

And all creation is shouting for joy,

Come dance in the forests, come play in the fields,

And sing, sing of the glory of the gods.>>

She went on to mention the sun, the waters, the plants and the animals, and finally the friends and family that lent their support to one another.

She concluded, “And now to yousan, children of other worlds, I offer dis blessing: Wherever yousa walk, in places familiar or unknown, may yousa tekk wit’ you the light of the sun, the healing of the waters, and the warmth of yoursa family circle, however it appeahs.”

~*~*~*~*~​

Dr. Aonda Sirabi, Twi’lek physician at an off-campus clinic, smiled at Osso Harch. “What can I do for you, Professor?”

“You can prescribe something for this horrific round of hay fever,” Harch replied. He sneezed. “Right now, I don’t care about side effects – I just need to be able to breathe.”

Aonda searched through her medical database. Then she opened a cabinet, selected a small cartridge, and inserted it into a stimpack. “There are a few new medications available that will treat hay fever with fewer side effects,” she said, turning back to Harch. “You’ll need a shot every day until your system responds; after that, you’ll need a weekly dose until allergy season is over. This formula is compatible with your physiology, but I may need to adjust the dosage, depending on your individual response.”

“I’m willing to give it a try,” Harch wheezed.

She administered the first dose, then handed him the stimpack and five cartridges. “Take one a day, preferably at breakfast.” She eyed him. “You do eat breakfast, right?”

“Um, yes?”

The Twi’lek shook her head. “Well, you do now. That’s a lifestyle change that will do you good. I want to see you back here in two days, to check your progress.”

~*~*~*~*~​

Irina Suval skipped down the back stairs of her father’s restaurant. Anthon Suval was busy planning a Spring Equinox feast for his university guests, but now that students from the Cultural Exploration Society were helping, Irina and her sister Marta had time free once their regular chores were done.

Irina raced to her favorite climbing tree, the one overlooking the fenced-in yard where the pretty Twi’lek lady would soon come out to dance.

Afterward, Irina practiced those dance moves all the way home.

~*~*~*~*~​

In the early evening, Library Director Izaluu Tren, clad in a long white robe, carefully spooned a heap of incense into the thurible and closed the lid. He swung it back and forth a few times on its chain, then set it on the sidewalk to heat.

A few of his fellow Kessurians waited in the procession line, while others wove through the crowd, offering each person an unlit candle and a slip of flimsi. When all had returned to the line, the High Priest told the crowd, “Winter ends our year. It is a time of fasting, meditation, and remembrance of those who sacrifice to bring peace to our world. We ask for a time of silence, that you also remember the sacrifices made for peace.”

At sunset, the procession began. Over the course of ten minutes, the Kessurians walked the perimeter of the quad. Every ten steps, the group chanted Esstal thal ebro t’gol kolell (“Let winter end and spring begin”), and Tren swung the thurible back and forth, purifying the air with incense. Four of his companions carried an effigy made of grey wood, symbolizing winter.

At last, they circled into the center, where a huge pile of wood waited. Four of them lifted the effigy and affixed it to a pole in the middle of the wood pile. The leader of the group shouted, “Esstal thal ebro t’gol kolell!” A light flared on the far side of the quad, and another of the Kessurians sprinted across the grass, bearing a flaming torch. At the same time, tiny points of light began to appear as someone lit a single candle, and then passed the flame on in a spreading circle.

The Kessurian procession leader held the torch high, repeated the call for winter’s end, and flung the torch onto the wood pile. The bonfire erupted, to the delight of the crowd, who collectively stepped back, then drew closer.

For a few minutes, people laughed and talked – until the effigy began to whistle, then flare with flame, and then explode into a great dazzle of thunder and fireworks. The crowd applauded, shouted, and made other sounds of appreciation (some after picking themselves up off the ground). The Kessurian High Priest shouted, “Now the winter is done! Let those who will, note your griefs, fears and regrets on flimsi, and throw them into the fire, burning them away and beginning a new year with a new heart!”

~*~*~*~*~​

Harch had awakened the next morning with a clearer head and (apparently) no side effects. He took his medication and slithered off to the nearest dining hall to pick up a bit of breakfast. The rolls were fresh and not half-bad, he decided.

By evening, he was starting to sneeze again and the congestion had returned. He looked at the stimpack and mentally shrugged. A few hours early won’t hurt.

Part II
Part III

Spoiler: Notes

A few comments on the story:

· The hymn Treece Vitay sings is based largely on a contemporary Christian hymn called “Canticle of the Sun,” by Marty Haugen, which in turn is based on a prayer/poem attributed to St. Francis of Assisi entitled “The Canticle of Brother Sun and Sister Moon.” It’s one of my favorite hymns and I felt it fit the theme of Gungan worship. A good rendition of it can be found here.

· Tik-tak birds are found on Naboo, but there’s no description for them, so for the purposes of storytelling, they look like swallows. (I changed the name to tak-tak, because otherwise I find myself thinking of breath mints….) Shaaks and gualamas are also native species.

· The request for guests to refrain from recording a spiritual practice was one I noted in the early 1990s, when I visited the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu (Hopi) Reservation in Arizona. At that time, all non-Native visitors (except spouses) were barred from attending ceremonies, partly because non-Native guests were frequently rude, inattentive, and disrespectful of the celebrants. The Hopituh Shi-nu-mu taught that spiritual rituals were meant to be experienced, and to do that, one had to focus on the event with one’s own ears and eyes, not through a camera or other recording device.

· Vid-vox scramblers

· Thurible: I suspect plenty of people have seen these but didn’t know what they were called. I’ve served as a thurifer (person who tends to and uses the thurible) in the Episcopal Church. It’s a fine balance between too much incense (we’ve set off the smoke alarm in my church a couple of times) and not enough. If nothing else, I get the pleasure of displaying my “I play with fire in church” sign in the back window of my car.

· The Kessurian presentation is based partly on the Episcopalian tradition of Holy Saturday vigil, in which all candles and other fires are extinguished, and then relit from a new fire specially kindled for the evening. The bonfire portion is based on the Persian Nowruz fire dance, combined with the Sechseläuten spring festival in Zurich, Switzerland, in which an “snowman” full of explosives is burned.

 

I love your characters and what they are doing.

 

Yay, more Sanbra University! I love this crew from what I read of them in your other stories, and once more we're close to reaching alien nirvana here!

Oh, professor. You should know that this isn't a good idea, especially since the doctor said:

... the "individual response" bit in there opens the way to all sorts of academic shenanigans!

I was happy to see the Suval children making an appearance. I remember them from the story about Dok-Ondar's shop, but I don't think they had any lines there, and here apparently we're going to see them being up to shenanigans of their own.

The highlight of this chapter of course was the two rituals. The Gungan one was an amazing reading of Gungan culture as we see it in TPM: despite their being perceived as primitive, the Gungans are actually a technologically advanced civilisation, but they are deeply attached to their ancestral customs and when the going gets rough they seek refuge in a shrine of their ancestors – thus mirroring, in a sense, the circle of nature where they leave their base from spring to fall, but return to it for comfort and safety when winter comes.

The Kessurian ritual resonated with me because it reminded me of my favourite moment of Greek Easter, when, at midnight on Saturday, the priest comes out of the church with the holy light and starts lighting the candles of the attendees, who then pass on the light to other people, and on and on. I'm not a religious person at all, but that moment when the light spreads into the crowd always gets me; it's just such a powerful image of community.

I'll be here waiting for the rest of the story!

 

Thank you for reading and commenting, @earlybird-obi-wan. I hope you enjoy the rest of the piece.

Thank you, @Chyntuck. Sanbra University has a lot of great storytelling potential, as do most colleges. The layout is based on a combination of Syracuse University and Binghamton University, which are both familiar to me. The staff and students, however, are uniquely Star Wars.

I'm looking at Marta Suval in particular as a character to be further developed at some point, but that's still in the very early stages. I do like the concept of the Zygerrians, although not the slave empire mindset. There was at least one Zygerrian Jedi at some point in the comics and a Zygerrian journalist in the Tarkin novel. (It's like the idea of an Ithorian pirate -- a delightfully unexpected concept that warrant further exploration.)

I'm placing notes at the end of my story segments -- the one following the first part tells a bit about the inspirations for the Gungan and Kessurian rituals.

And on to the next part....

 

On the second day of the Spring Celebration Festival, a row of tables ran down one side of the quad; each table was crammed with plants, many of them already showing flower buds. Members of the Chandrillan Student Organization handed the pots out to interested students and staff as part of a campus beautification program. Each plant came with instructions for its care. Residents of an agriworld like Chandrilla could plant and harvest various species all year round, but spring in particular was a time to gift plants to others.

For the more adventurous, the students also handed out packets of flower seeds. “We recommend waiting until the last full thaw before sowing these,” one of the students was telling Penald Krull. “They will do best in partial sun, but should be protected from high winds. And local wildlife,” he added, reaching over to pick up a bunny-like creature that had been hopping among the plants on the table.

“That fellow doesn’t seem very wild,” Krull remarked.

The student grinned. “He’s really not – this is Letra’s pet squall, who helps keep our houseplants’ leaves trimmed.”

“Do you recommend getting a squall to help with the gardening?”

“Only if you get one that’s litterbox trained….”

~*~*~*~*~​

Midweek saw a riot of colours on the main quad. A group of Aleena had set out a host of bird, bee, and butterfly shapes, which turned out to be kites. The Aleena scurried about the quad, encouraging passersby to pick up a kite and try their hand (or other appendage) at flying it.

“Spring Kite Festival,” they explained to the curious. “On our homeworld, spring is always marked by winds, sometimes gentle breezes, sometimes great gusts! We take advantage of it and enjoy it!”

Off to one side, several Aleena were holding a kite-making workshop, and the quad soon hosted dozens of students and staff rushing back and forth, trying out their kite designs and dodging other festival-goers.

In the afternoon, a dozen Aleena assembled a long, jointed dragon shape that, with the assistance of various students and staff, took to the air and swayed over the campus for almost an hour (anchored by a helpful Houk student, who tied the main rope around her waist and leaned back). A couple of Toydarians had to periodically fly up and rescue some of the Aleena, who were, perhaps not accidentally, borne aloft by the kite as it wove and bobbed.

~*~*~*~*~​

The following day, students in the College of Hospitality took over part of the main quad by filling tables with seasonal food eaten on a variety of worlds. The students handed out plenty of free samples; larger quantities of many foods were available for purchase. (The money would fund several campus-wide special occasion meals.) Along one of the quad’s shorter sides, Hospitality students packed lunches – some for sale, others to be presented to the University’s cafeteria workers to thank them for feeding everyone all year.

Osso Harch picked up a suitable lunch, then on impulse requested another before heading off to his doctor’s appointment. Doctors had to eat too, after all.

~*~*~*~*~​

“Thank you very much for the lunch,” Aonda said. "I'm often uncomfortable lecturing everyone else about eating properly when I can't do it myself. Now, how do you feel?”

“I feel better than I have in ages,” Harch replied. “I can breathe, I have more energy, I –“ He stopped abruptly. “Dr. Sirabi, do many of your patients come over the back fence for their appointments?”

“No. Why?”

“Because you seem to have someone waiting in a tree just over the back fence.”

Aonda peered out the window; it took a few moments, but at last she saw the small shape sitting on a branch. “I’d better go find out what’s going on.” She turned back to Harch. “Your scans look good, but stop back in a couple of days for a follow-up. And keep eating properly!”

The Twi’lek strode out into the yard, gazing up into the tree. “Hello!” she called. “Do you need to see a doctor?”

The small being drew its knees up to its chin and crouched, staring down at Aonda. “It’s all right,” Aonda continued. “No one’s going to hurt you. What are you doing up there?”

Finally, the being replied, “Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Aonda stepped closer.

“For you. To come out and dance.”

Aonda folded her arms over her chest and frowned. “How many times have you been sitting up there while I dance?”

The being curled into a tighter ball. “A few,” she admitted in a tiny voice.

“Why?”

“I want to learn to dance. But we don’t have enough money for lessons.” A pause. “And I don’t have a mama to teach me.” She added in little more than a whisper, “I’m sorry.” Then she scrambled down the tree and fled.

Aonda stared after her. Harch, who had followed her into the yard, asked, “Do you know that child?”

“I think so. She’s the younger daughter of Anthon Suval, who owns the restaurant.” Aonda sighed. “I guess I need to speak to her father.”

~*~*~*~*~​

Anthon Suval gave his daughter Marta and his two assistant chefs their instructions, then sat down with Aonda at a side table in the dining room. “I will obviously have to speak with Irina about spying on people,” he said in a tired voice. “She does love to dance, but that doesn’t excuse her behavior. It’s unfortunate that we really cannot afford lessons right now.”

The Twi’lek nodded. “I understand a love of dance,” she told him. “I have been dancing for many years, although these days it’s mostly for exercise. You know, Sanbra University has a Fine Arts program that includes dance. You might be able to work something out with the faculty or students – perhaps trade meals for lessons, or some other arrangement.”

Anthon nodded thoughtfully. “I will see if I can find time to do that. We are quite busy right now. Which is a good thing,” he added hastily. “When we first opened the restaurant here, almost no one would come. My people have a very poor reputation, you see.”

“Yes. I had two relatives taken away by Zygerrian slavers.”

Bowing his head, Anthon responded, “I am sorry. I – “

“I don’t hold eight-year-olds responsible for things their parents may or may not have done,” Aonda said. “You’re trying to do something different. And – Irina, is it? – wasn’t doing any real harm. Are there any dances you can teach her?”

“Males and females do not dance together, nor do they study one another’s dances. Irina and Marta would have learned from their mother, if she were still alive. But now there is no one to teach them. It is unfortunate – we do have a traditional dance that our females perform on the spring equinox, and Irina wanted to perform it, or something like it, I suppose.”

Aonda thought for a moment. “There might be a way to do that. Let me contact a colleague of mine.”

Outside the restaurant, she activated her personal comm device. “Sanbra University Library,” the receptionist answered.

“Yes, good afternoon. I need to contact Zeta, in the Recordings Department….”

~*~*~*~*~​

The Gamorrean Warrior Training Dance on the fifth afternoon had been impressive and mostly well-received. Several students from the Linguistics Department had been on hand to translate: spring was a time to prepare for battles on Gamorr, which were fought over land, food, and plunder. A successful campaign could also catch the attention of female Gamorreans looking for mates.

As part of the demonstration, rows of male Gamorreans, dressed in their finest armor, had performed a choreography that closely resembled their fighting moves with swords, axes and shields, punctuated by shouts and squeals. The warriors had followed up with an axe-throwing contest, and had allowed some of the students and staff a chance to try. Most participants concluded that it was harder than it looked.

The only dissenting note came from the Thisspiassian Dueling Club. The Thisspiassians species also had a military tradition, although they had long since ceased warring with one another. The club members began mocking the Gamorreans’ weapons, fighting techniques, and intelligence. Fortunately, most of the insults couldn’t be heard over the crowd’s shouting, and the Gamorrean captain who asked a translator about it was told, “They’re cheering you on, mate! Go for it!”

Afterwards, many of the dancers, along with a crowd of spectators, had retired to the main dining hall for a typical Gamorrean meal. There they were confronted by the Dueling Club and their advisor/sponsor, a distance cousin of Osso Harch’s, several times removed. Of course this was going to happen, Harch thought sourly. There’s a reason some of us avoid the military like the proverbial plague….

This time the Gamorreans could hear the insults perfectly well – while most couldn’t speak Basic, they could at least understand it. Harch slithered up behind his cousin – grandnephew – borrtsik – whatever he was, and snapped, “We don’t need a brawl in the cafeteria!”

His – blast it, what was the term? – turned to him and grumbled, “We’re three times the warriors they are! Why weren’t we invited to demonstrate our fighting moves?”

“Because you don’t have any springtime military traditions? Because you’re an insular group that doesn’t allow outsiders? Because you act like over-stimulated gundark?” Mentally, Harch cringed. Was he really talking to a soldier like this?

His – whatever it was – turned back to the Gamorreans and shouted, “We demand the right to prove our superiority in battle!” The rest of the Dueling Club echoed the shouts. The Gamorreans drew themselves up for a fight.

The University’s Hoverball Coach, who was standing nearby, grabbed the airhorn from his belt and blew a loud blast. Startled to temporary silence, everyone turned toward him. The coach opened his mouth to speak –

“DANCE-OFF!” Harch bellowed. Another moment of stunned silence, and then various students cheered, taking up the chant, “Dance! Off! Dance! Off! Dance! Off!”

The coach did a startled double-take at Harch, then blew his airhorn again. “Everyone! Outside! Main quad! Hustle! Hustle! Hustle!”

The dining hall quickly emptied as Gamorreans, Thisspiassians, and spectators scrambled out to the door and onto the quad.

“Dance beat!” Pounding weapons on shields, the Gamorreans set up a rhythm; spectators took it up by clapping hands (and other appendages), stomping feet (and other appendages), pounding on the ground, and shouting.

The two warrior groups squared off, each lining up along one long side of the quad.

In the meantime, Harch sagged against a wall. To the concerned cafeteria worker who rushed over to see if he was ill, he murmured, “I think someone needs to contact my doctor.”

To Be Continued....

Spoiler: Notes

The Chandrillan squall really does look like a rabbit.

Houk would make a good anchor in pretty much any game.

The Aleena Kite Festival is completely made up. But it certainly sounds like fun. Plenty of people around the world fly kites and host spring kite festivals, so it seemed reasonable to include it here.

Gamorreans really do warrior training in the spring

The Thisspiassians have a warrior culture – how much of that exists during the Saga is unknown. But it’s a good excuse for a Dueling Club.

I’m not sure if borrtsik is the term Harch would use for his specific relative or just a profanity. Perhaps it’s both….

I can absolutely relate to Professor Harch’s misery over hay fever – I have it too. (Thankfully, I’ve found an allergy tablet that usually works quite well for me, unless the pollen count is extremely high.)

 

Love the various festivals you are describing.
Poor Harch and his hay fever

 

I'm glad you're enjoying them. Thank you for commenting. It's been fun researching the spring festivals here on Earth and then adapting them. Humans are quite creative!

And I can sympathize with Prof. Harch -- I also have hay fever, and this year it's started two month early. So very not fun.

 

“Obviously I need to adjust your medication dosage,” Aonda remarked, readying another stimpack canister. Harch had been escorted to the university infirmary, where he had fallen asleep for several hours until someone had located Aonda. Vestri, Krull and Tem Eliss were already in the room.

“Did I make a complete fool of myself?” Harch asked wearily.

Tem Eliss waved four of his tentacles in a negative. “Not at all. Your quick thinking turned a possible fight into an impressive display. Once the Dueling Club members pulled themselves together, they performed admirably. The competition was declared a tie, and then the warriors all went out drinking together. There may have been a couple of off-campus brawls, but overall, a successful evening.”

“Well, that’s a relief. And no, Dr. Sirabi, you don’t need to adjust my dosage. This is entirely my own fault – I kept taking the medication earlier than I was supposed to. Because I felt better and had more energy, I wasn’t keeping up with my meditation cycle.”

“Which causes irritability and occasional irrational acts,” Aonda finished.

“Clearly.”

“So, what was with you and the rest of those Dueling Club guys?” Vestri asked.

Harch sighed. “My people have a warrior tradition. Several family members have made careers in the military. I… did not.” He leaned back in the bed. “I don’t take orders well, apparently.”

“I would never have guessed,” Krull deadpanned. Harch opened his mouth, but Krull continued, “You think about a situation before you act. That’s not really a good trait in a soldier.”

“That doesn’t make me any less of a disappointment to various family members,” Harch grumbled.

“Well, I’m a disappointment all the way around in my family,” Vestri said cheerfully. “My grandmother wanted me to find a nice young fellow on Naboo and settle down with a decent job. My mother wanted me to find a nice young fellow on Coruscant and settle there instead, so she’d have an excuse to move to ‘the center of the galaxy’ and become a really high-powered lawyer.”

“You did marry a nice young fellow from Naboo,” Aonda pointed out.

“I think they both expected a nice young Human fellow,” Vestri amended. She rolled her eyes. “I mean, they’re decent enough to Adrick and all, but there’s always some awkwardness there.”

“My people are appalled that I associate with beings who have fewer than six appendages,” Tem Eliss chimed in. “You’re all so beneath our notice because you lack the proper number of eyes and tentacles, you see. I’m shunned rather frequently when I return home.”

“So, what’s your deep, dark secret, Professor Krull?” Vestri asked.

The Besalisk paused. “Um… I’m divorced?”

Everyone stared at him. “Is that considered a heinous moral failing or something?” Harch asked finally.

“No, not really.”

“Lightweight,” Vestri declared in a teasing tone.

“Well,” Aonda said finally, “I think we’ve all made great progress here this afternoon. Good talk, everyone. Someday we’ll all have to have another group therapy session – preferably with an actual therapist.”

“If anyone here tries to hug me, I will bite you,” Harch warned.

Vestri grinned. “Instead of hugs, why don’t we bury our inadequacies under some of Anthon Suval’s excellent cooking? We have a table waiting for us tomorrow, but I wouldn’t object to eating there two nights in a row.”

~*~*~*~*~​

On the final evening of the Spring Cultural Festival, Anthon Suval seated his guests, assisted by his daughters and various students from the Cultural Exploration Society. When the last person had found their table, Anthon stepped up to the amplifier (installed several months ago by the Poetry Slam Club).

“I welcome you all this evening,” he told the crowd. “I have been asked to provide a typical Equinox meal, prepared as close to traditionally as possible. Your meal will include leavening bread weaves,” here his older daughter Marta held up a sample – the bread appeared to be woven in a nest shape around a colored hard-boiled egg, “fresh spring greens, two kinds of meat pies, a vegetable medley, and an iced sorbet with wild berries.” He paused, then added, “We have also prepared a few meals for those with special dietary needs, but those fall outside our traditional fare.”

Marta stepped up to the amplifier. “We also have a gift for each of you, made by my sister Irina and me, along with students from the Cultural Exploration Society.” She held up a bracelet made of red and white yarn. “During the winter, a traditional activity is spinning wool and making yarn. In the spring, we create wish bracelets for our family, friends, and others that we love.”

Irina bounced up to the amplifier. “You tie them on your wrist and wait until you can think of a wish you want to make. Then you hang them on a wishing tree. We have one in the front of the restaurant, but you can use any tree you like. When the bracelet disappears or falls apart, your wish will come true!”

As the student helpers began setting food on the tables, Marta and Irina moved through the restaurant handing out the bracelets to diners. Irina bounded up to Aonda and tied the bracelet on the Twi’lek’s wrist, then handed the rest around the table. “Are you ready, Irina?” Aonda asked.

Irina beamed. “Yes!”

“What are you doing?” Marta asked.

“We have a surprise for everyone,” Irina replied, and towed Aonda to the stage area of the room. Zeta the hovercam droid glided along behind them.

“Gentlebeings,” Aonda announced, “another equinox tradition among Zygerrians is a series of dances performed by the female members of each family. They are usually passed from mothers and grandmothers to daughters, but Irina and Marta lost their mother several years ago. However, we have found recordings of some of the dances, and Irina has been practicing very hard for the last couple of days. Now, we would like to dance for you.”

Irina hopped up on the stage. Zeta began playing a musical recording, and the two dancers began a simple set of steps: forward two steps, back two, left two steps, right two, pause: right two steps, left two, back two steps, forward two, pause. Then each dancer twirled around the other, switching places, and repeated the pattern. They switched places, danced the pattern one more time, then stopped. Aonda extended a hand to Irina, and both stepped forward to bow.

The diners applauded. “This is a simple children’s dance,” Aonda explained, “but I suspect Irina will learn many more dances as she gets older, possibly even some from outside her culture.” Irina nodded vigorously. “We hope you enjoy the rest of this evening.”

“Lovely,” Krull complimented her.

“Look at you, impromptu dance instructor!” Vestri grinned.

“Thanks to Zeta for finding the recordings,” Aonda said.

The hovercam droid responded, “Gotta love our library!” Izaluu Tren, seated at the next table over, smiled and raised his glass to Zeta, then to Aonda.

“A highly successful Spring Celebration Festival, all the way around!” Tem Eliss scooped up the fish pie in front of him. “Tomorrow we can begin planning next year’s!”

Vestri pulled a chunk of bread off the weaving loaf. “Actually, I was thinking of doing something for Autumn, too.” She swiped her hand through the air in front of her. “The Night of Spooky Tales! Stories, songs and poems of horror and suspense from around the galaxy! Demons, ghosts, and witches. Ooooo….”

Silence. Then Osso Harch remarked, “Sounds like someone else needs to get their medication adjusted.”

“Not on medication,” Vestri informed him.

“She’s been like this for years,” Aonda added.

Harch pushed a bowl over to Vestri. “Have some salad, Professor Dain. I’m reliably informed that healthy eating is a good lifestyle change.”

“Her physician concurs,” Aonda said.

The tablemates burst into laughter and continued their meal, turning the conversation to other topics.

~*~*~*~ End ~*~*~*~​

Spoiler: Author's notes and references

Oddly enough, spring is probably my least favorite season of the year, possibly because it’s only about three (non-continuous!) weeks long in my part of the world. The weather usually fluctuates between winter and summer, so it’s either cold with a threat of snow, or so hot most of us are wearing sandals and capris/shorts. This challenge was fun, nonetheless. It’s always interesting to explore other cultures (human or alien), so thank you to @Chyntuck for hosting this.

The red and white yarn bracelets were mention in Chyntuck’s original Challenge post under the spoiler tag. On Earth they’re the martiatika, worn by children to ward off sunburn. They have a different purpose in this story, of course.

The “leavening bread weaving” Anthon mentions is based on an Italian tradition of Easter Egg Bread, in which hard boiled, often colored eggs are baked right into a “wreath” of bread. There are a variety of recipes for it online. I have not made it myself.

Thank you for reading! I hope everyone enjoys their springtime, however you celebrate it!

 

a great story. Teasing between the friends and about the differences in beings. Nice food.
And today we have festivities in the Netherlands. Kingsday with all sorts of plays, orange coloured food, garage-sales and concert and the king visiting Rotterdam

 

*rolls in this story like a loth-cat in loth-catnip*

I LOVE ALL OF THESE THINGS SO MUCH! I'm hoping to come back and leave some more actual detail, but just have to say for now that this was so much fun to read. And Professor Harch is possibly now THE most relatable character of the series as I deal with spring allergies.

 

Sorry for falling behind! I don't get hay fever, but apparently I decided this year to catch a nasty cold so that I can sneeze and cough in solidarity with people who do.

Professor Harch is my new best friend. I just love every moment when he appears in the story, whether to complain about his allergies, or to explain his people's warrior traditions and shut them down, or (of course!) to organise an impromptu dance-off to calm everyone's spirits I have to add here though that the concept of a Gamorrean Warrior Dance demonstration and a Thisspiassian Dueling Club were among the finest bits of worldbuilding, but there were plenty more, for instance:

There were moments when Sanbra University felt a little bit like Hogwarts, with magical mishaps all over the place.

I really felt for little Irina when she got caught spying on the doctor. It was heart-warming to see how Aonda took her under her wing and found dances for her, and also how she handled the conversation with Anthon who felt he should apologise for being a Zygerrian. This little community around the university is such a welcoming environment, challenges from the Dueling Club notwithstanding.

And this whole scene where the professors have their little group therapy There are moments when they come across like a group of unruly siblings rather than Big Serious People.

This is a minor detail here, but I want to note that I squeed out loud at the mention of the poetry jam. I love that little fic so much and it always makes me happy when I find a pretext to revisit it.

Soooooooo meta! I'm hoping that this means that we'll see more of this crowd when the Autumn Bingo comes along.

Congrats on finishing the challenge!

 

Time to get caught up on responses!

Thank you, @earlybird-obi-wan. I looked up Kingsday, and it sounds like quite the celebration. I hope you had time to enjoy some of the festivities. (What's with the orange color food?)

Thank you, @Kahara. Glad you enjoyed it. I had a blast writing it (and it felt wonderful to be able to write -- it's been difficult to find the time and energy in the past year).

Professor Harch seems to be a favorite of many readers. I have a soft spot for Grumpy Old Guys -- one of my other preferred characters is Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody from the Harry Potter books, who got three or four stories from me back when I was writing in that fandom.

Some of this is based on Syracuse University, which had a lovely block of small restaurants and shops just off campus. It's among my best college memories.

Vestri does seem to build herself a family wherever she goes -- Coruscant had the staff at Dex's Diner and the patrons at the Hannow's shop, and she put together her science team for her travels during her research for her final degree. I think it's because her own family is small and rather broken (she's an only child, parents separated), some of which we'll see during the Summer Fanfic Olympics this year.

And I suspect Vestri would laugh at the idea of being considered a Big Serious Person.

That turned out to be one of my favorite stories from the Kessel Run last year, so I sometimes revisit it myself.

Possible. Right now I'm writing for the Fanfic Olympics, where I hope to have one decathlon ("Career Exploration (with Gungans)") and one pentathlon ("Prepping for Flight," in which a hardworking crew of Ugnaughts helps get Ohnaka Transport Solutions literally and figuratively off the ground). My time and energy for writing is kind of limited -- real life is taking up a lot of my attention these days -- so having a large window of time to work on a project helps a lot. I was pleasantly surprised that "Season of Sharing" was as easy to write as it was.

Thank you for hosting! I really enjoyed this challenge!

 

What a fun mix of cultural traditions I like how you show Zygerrians as likeable individuals not heartless slavers only I like Aonda too. She's very caring of her patients and compassionate and helpful with Irina's desire to dance.

Very nice slice of life with the medications for hay fever

 

A very unique story that feels simultaneously extremely grounded in reality and yet just foreign enough to match the Star Wars feel. I particularly enjoyed the rich variety of aliens, and alien cultures presented here. Thisspiasian's in particular are very underrated and I am happy to see them be used in any way, I really wish we could see more of their warrior culture in canon, it is one of the more curious species, specifically because they don't have feet! Seriously I want to see one slither around in a proper combat experience!

I can also appreciate the inspiration for the different religious and cultural traditions, and it is nice to see such devotion given such respect.