"Ahh, goodness...isn't that breeze just lovely, ladies? Such a pleasant respite! Not that Ol'Val's air scrubbers aren't doing their best, of course. They're very good at their jobs, bless the dears. Work hard and never take a holiday, no? But! One does miss the earth under their toes."

"Of course, my Lady. Very pleaasedt for earth toes!" Tali Sroka allowed, smiling peacefully at the Miraluka who held her arm. If she was actively using the Force to whisk away the nervous sweat beading underneath her robes and along her lovely leked brow, then no one needed to know.

Socorra was not so agreeable, come all the way out to the Feluriglade though she had; the woman bled shadow and would never, not on her life or those of others, disobey an order from her Clan or one of its title bearers.

"Pshaw! Is dirt on Ol'Val. All over the street. Walk barefoot in that. I seen you do it!" The Socorran's lone arctic eye squinted in the golden, bright sunlight shining through the dappling trees that reached towards the sky, crowning the mountainous edge that made up this valley basin, secluded in the Doto Peaks and secret to few. She had been here before, chosen by the loyal Cythraul that padded along at her side, Akua's sleek form much more at peace than her mistress, slipping from bush to bush in the glade where which she had been born. "Why are we here, Atty?"

Normally, the Mandalorian was not one to question. However, she had a newborn at home, and while Wyn was a excellent father-mother-doctor-actor, she did not want to be away from her little star. Atyiru herself plodded along at the pace of a punch-drunken turtle, so heavily pregnant with her and Marick's second child that she was arm in arm with both other women. And meanwhile, a small spark, a possibility of Light, glowed in Tali's own flat stomach.

They all came from such different places. So disparate. And yet so similar at once. Three women, three mothers -- if even for a moment and so for once and always -- three mourners, fighters, leaders, survivors. Scarred, beaten, broken, but not bent. Their heads held chins up proud. Some days they would cry. Some days they could smile.

"Patience, dear heart." Soccora muttered a string of epitaths in a mix of languages that might have curled paint had their been any present in the weald. Atyiru laughed, bellchime and fae. Her pointed ears wiggled. Tali tilted her face up to the sun and closed her topaz eyes, the faintest calm stealing over her beauteous features, lekku draped around her shoulders. "We're nearly there. Just walk with me, for a little longer, sisters. Please."

As if either of them would say no to that.

A few more miles into the deep heart of the forest, and the morning sun continued to rise at their backs, sharpening and shortening the shadows that preceeded them. They crossed a shallow river at its thinnest point, wetting skirts and feet, drying them on the cake of clay made from dirt and damp soles. Into a clearing they passed, and beheld finally a hushed circle of gravestones, riotous with wildflowers. Howls in the distance welcomed them home. Akua's head titled back to join them, and Socorra looked like she might follow suit.

It wasn't until more figures emerged from the trees that anyone spoke up, Tali's accented tones uneasy.

"Uhm...Atty...not to spoil the surprise, but...this vouwldn't happen to involve matrimony, wouldt it?" Her gaze flickered from one person to the next, evidently searching out a much larger and impressive blue girth, a sigh of abject relief when she found none. One of the Miraluka's schemes was enough for one day, and she really did want that particular choice to be respected. Though, one could never be too prepared, with Atyiru, for shennanigans of the marriage variety.

Atyiru laughed again, and a tinier, girlish laugh echoed her. From atop Marick's shoulders, Kirra waved, starting to say something before he hushed her gently. The little girl clapped a hand over her mouth, repressing giggles, but obviously excited.

"She wanted to be part of things," the Hapan explained simply, voice level, unperturbed by the child he carried disrupting what a decade before would have been a solemn, visceral atmosphere, sworn in by spilt blood and shared pain. Darker times. Not worse times, merely different. The Clan and Broterhood had evolved, changed. So had they changed. So had they grown, perhaps. Now there was child's laughter, and women arm in arm, and soft, amused smiles on other faces.

"Tali," Zujenia said warmly, the half-Ryn coming forward to grip the Twi'lek's hands as Atyiru released her and gave her over. She smiled up at the taller purple woman, a purple ribbon in her hair. A trait they shared. Grief. Love. The shape of what could have been. "I'm glad you're here."

"I am gladt too! Now if only I knew why. Though I am beginning to guess..."

"Share with rest of us?" Socorra sounded only more impatient, her eye darting about, a little frantic. She looked like she might reach for a weapon; she was a weapon. "James?! What you do here? You even have body? Thought were only droid. Beep boo."

The Seneschal winked at her from under his hood, which didn't seem to inspire the confidence intended.

"Socorra," Marick called, tones soft, litling. Kirra wriggled, and he set her down, letting her run over to hug her auntie, who put a hand to her hair in reflex. "At ease. This is a good thing. No tests. No endurance." His too-blue eyes met her one, and pinched at the edges with understanding, regret, words halting, not because he had none, but because they were not easy and neither was finding the right ones. But he knew what she was thinking. "You do belong."

Tears gathered in that lone arctic eye. Disbelief? Fear? Acceptance?

Atyiru squeezed Socorra's arm, still holding it, and then let go, leaving her to Kirra, stepping up to face the two newcomers and flanked by the others: Terran, Lucine, Kordath, Strategos, Celahir. Behind them, in the shadows of the trees, there seemed to be a whisper, the memory of other Shadows, gone but not forgotten.

"Tali," she began. "Socorra. He's right. This isn't anything bad. And I know. I know you've experienced bad. At the hands of so many. At the hands of this Clan, and for it. You've lost so much. You've fought. You've stayed. This is our family, our home." She paused, tilting her blindfolded face towards one, then the other. "And you both have raised us up. We are thankful for that. And even more thankful to have you in this life, in this world. You are needed. You are trusted. You belong. If you want to. And if you will, there is still more that would be asked of you."

Immediately, Socorra dropped to her knees, bowing.

"Of course, Consul." Her tone was rote, dedicated, devout, but her hand trembled. Atyiru's expression creased, sad. She shook her head, then went to kneel too.

"Ooop, oooh, fiddlesticks, scones and butter, this is-- oh, thank you, dear, oof," she struggled, at least until Marick and Zujenia scrambled to assist her, in lowering herself down with a huff. "There we go! Okay. I'm not standing again, goodness. Socky. Sister. Please look at me." A moment, and then the eye lifted to an eyeless face. "Tali, if you'd be a dear and come on down too? We're sitting now, everyone, come on."

The Twi'lek gave a huff but smiled, good humored, and knelt with courtesean grace. "Sitting sounds goodt, Atty."

"Bless you always humoring me. Now, now. Listen. We are asking you, both of you, entirely yourselves...to bear this Clan. To bear the name. To swear it. What do you say?"

"I wouldt be honoredt," Tali dipped her head, lekku flitting with emotion. Socorra seemed to shake with it. A reckoning.

"I live to serve," she began, and then stopped. Fire and faces flashed in her mind. Her lip wobbled. Her scars ached.

Kirra put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Maybe today she would not believe she deserved, despite them saying so. Maybe not tomorrow. But for them, for this future, she would serve.

"I accept."

"Arcona Invicta," Atyiru intoned then, low and oath-sworn.

"Arcona Invicta," the others echoed.

Tali and Socorra shared a glance.

The new Arconae whispered it, shouted:

"Arcona Invicta."

Hello, lovelies!

Please join us today in welcoming two new Arconae: Tali and Socks. Many of you probably know them, but for those who don't, know this:

Tali has been an unmoving pillar of Arconan leadership for the last nearly four years straight. Socks was Battleteam Leader, Aedile, Quaestor, then Herald several years ago, and then came back to us to do it all again, currently on the Summit and working as Evant's Praetor. Both of them are bastions of activity, exemplars of grace and decorum to the Club from Arcona, and dedicated servants of both the Brotherhood and our family here. They are everything one could want in a member and leaders, and we're humbled to have their attention, time, and advice for all days past, and hopefully many going forward.

For all these reasons, we thank them, and celebrate these titles. Drinks on you tonight, you two!

Thank you, welcome, and well done.

Signed and sealed,

Atyiru Caesura Entar Arconae

Emeritus