Mirta would have mocked the flailing if there wasn't a good reason for it, she wanted to flail herself, had flailed a bit though she'd never ever admit it. But she'd worked out the possibility, took the test, took four more glared at the little 'pregnant' on each for an undefined length of time, the final offending one for half an hour willing it to change before finally accepting it, throwing the test against the bathroom wall and finding a computer. She didn't hate the idea but she wasn't ready, she didn't have a culture anymore, she didn't have Mandalore, she didn't have her people, her Ba'buir
Oh he'd kill Sam. For the first time Mirta was intensely glad he wasn't here.
"Four tests sure, wouldn't have said if I wasn't sure" she said, finally turning away to pour another drink for him and a juice for herself "And I'm glad you know how, though I had planned little diagrams in case you weren't clear on the process."
She joked, mostly because otherwise she thought she might throw things again.
"About two and a half months by all reckoning, and...well I haven't exactly been the perfect container in that time have I. I drink enough to floor a Hutt most times and all the fighting I do. What if I've really kriffed the thing up"