Moon Knight

Jamming his heel into the leg he'd already penetrated with a cortosis round, Fett avoided a wild swing with a knife from his right, his mind, his body, and his kit working together to keep him alive. The man neither he nor Mirdala had gotten to yet had managed to pull a holdout blaster, but Kandor limited his opportunity to shoot by using his injured opponent as cover. By now the rest of the Mando'ade on the juggernaut were aware of the situation, and one of them grabbed Fett's right-most assailant by the backplate. Fett used the brief window to draw the beskad'ika that Mirdala had given to him years ago and slash it across the man's midsection. The razor-sharp beskar sliced through his girth belt, finding the seam just under his chest plate, and came away glistening red. He then jammed the blade into the man's neck. The injured man in front of Mand'alor was still putting up a fight, bringing his wrist laser back around for another shot. With his left hand Fett managed to divert the attack by a few centimeters with another Teras Kasi elbow parry and the laser bolt blazed past his targeting rangefinder, lighting up the interior of the juggernaut in scarlet for an instant and then adding to the smoke and chaos. Kandor headbutted the man, knocking him back into the one behind him with the holdout blaster, then lunged over him, bringing his beskad'ika around his side and driving it up into the shooter's axillary artery while grabbing his shooting hand with his own free one. He twisted it hard enough to hear a tendon pop, the same motion aligning his own wrist laser with the man's armpit. With a voice command he fired the weapon. His last target was staggered on the bench, dazed from the headbutt and his leg a mess. Fett didn't pause. He wrenched the holdout blaster from his dying previous target's hand as he fell, brought it deftly around, and fired twice point-blank through the man's T-visor. "Shabuire," he spat. Warm blood pooled on the seats and floor. The pain in his elbow from the earlier speeder crash was flaring up intensely. The juggernaut had stopped and someone had opened the side door, letting daylight in and smoke out. Fett put a hand on Mirdala's shoulder and glanced her over for any obvious injuries. "You okay?"

ShadowFett sat perched on the edge of his seat to accommodate his repulsor pack. The insides of the juggernaut were cramped so as to maximize the number of troops that could fit on board. The old war machine was almost indestructible and bristled with weapons; it was capable of changing the tide of a battle wherever it went, and cramming it full of Mando'ade only added to the threat it posed. Indeed its greatest limitation was its relatively low top speed, meaning getting it to the battles it needed to win often took longer than winning them. Currently about forty men were aboard, strapped into seats that folded down from walls and partitions and were close enough together that not only were beskar-clad shoulders often clacking together as the vehicle navigated the uneven battlefield, but there was only a short aisle between one's knees and that of the individual sitting across from them. Mirdala to his left, Fett found himself staring into the visor of a strongly-built verd in well-worn olive green and black armor. He, like the ones seated on either side of him and the one on Fett's right, bore a crest on their shoulder plates that Fett didn't recognize but marked them as members of one clan. They all wore the same green as well, but their secondary colors varied with their temperament. Each of them seemed to be staring at him silently. Mand'alor checked the charge on his assault rifle and then leaned it up against his seat between his legs, gripping his harness and leaning forward to glance toward the front of the juggernaut, hoping to get a sense of their destination. "What's your aliit, vode?" he asked conversationally. He kept his channel to Mirdala open all the time now. She wouldn't be able to hear their answers, but she could at least hear his side of the conversation. Only there was no conversation. The men continued to stare at him silently. Fett noticed a fifth one with the same markings a couple more seats down. One of them twitched a bit, his thumb resting on his holstered blaster pistol. For that matter, they all seemed to have hands near their weapons. "Stoic types, I s--" Fett felt Mirdala tense suddenly. He suddenly jammed his head to the right, his buy'ce smacking that of the man next to him even as the man across from him raised his arm and fired his wrist laser. The bolt splashed against the wall where Fett's visor had been. His climbing spikes flashed out of his left gauntlet and cut his restraint while his right hand fell on his holstered verpine shattergun. He pointed his knee and pulled the trigger, a small projectile coated in cortosis instantly traversing the gap between them and entering the leg of the man who'd fired at him. Mirdala was already on her feet by the time Fett triggered his repulsor pack which sent him bodily into his attacker, climbing spikes first. The man to his right had pulled a knife and jabbed it towards the seam in Fett's armor beneath his armpit, but Fett improvised, deflecting the attack with an old Teras Kasi block with his right gauntlet before delivering an uppercut to the man's chin which would do more to disorient him than actually damage him through his armor. Fett shifted, trying to drag the injured man in front of him by the flack jacket between himself and the other three traitors to his left even as Mirdala was shoved backwards into him. In such close quarters, it was almost impossible to pull a weapon, but until the rest of the passengers found some way to get involved physically, which would be further limited by the cramped space, he and Mirdala were outnumbered and if they weren't quick a wrist blade or holdout blaster could really ruin their day.

"I'd say we should do it more often," Kandor responded as he intercepted a volley of incoming fire on his shield, "but we'd run out of armies to fight." Of course, that might not turn out to be the case. Somewhere in the middle of all of his responsibilities here as Mand'alor, 2277 had kept him informed on what was going in the greater galaxy. It seemed that his predictions about the Remnant might become a reality soon. This little war for the Sector was perhaps only a precursor to a much greater war unless cooler heads prevailed. It was of no great concern to him, however. He could gain something by accurately predicting what would happen, but he had no stake in the outcome. If war came, the clans stood to benefit. If it did not, they would continue as they had for the last few years -- assuming they made it through the next few days. As another blaster bolt scorched past his head, ShadowFett put aside his ruminations and returned fire, shooting essentially from the hip, using the shield for stability and the heads-up display in his buy'ce for targeting. His practiced technique and advanced technology proved superior to those of his opponent and the man fell. Mirdala's quick work with the turret had swung this engagement in favor of the Mando'ade and the juggernauts could be relocated. Only the artillery had fallen silent, and reports were that the anti-air network had sustained significant damage. It seemed that he and the command center had underestimated the intensity of the barrage. The fact that the shelling had ended suggested that perhaps the invaders wanted Keldabe standing, but why take out the AA guns if not to clear the way for bombers? Either way, Fett was now being signaled that the air support he'd requested was now reaching Keldabe airspace, and he confirmed it a few seconds later with a glance at the sky. As he watched, a mixture of MandalMotors military designs and personal ships swooped over the battlefield towards the forest, delivering a payload of warheads and blaster fire on the artillery positions that Ops had identified by analyzing incoming fire during the barrage. Gesturing to his wife to follow him, Mand'alor headed back down the hill to one of the juggernauts and climbed inside the armored vehicle along with a few dozen other verde that would accompany the it to the place where it was now most needed.

Fett didn’t delay. He moved decisively around the side of the juggernaut and approached the turret in a straight line. It didn’t take long to spot him and traced its cannon fire down to counter his advance. He immediately started to catch blaster bolts on the shield, the impacts hammering his already-aching joints, but he pushed ahead just the same, mind set on reaching the top of the hill. Carefully keeping to the shadow of protection afforded her by Kandor’s shield, Mirdala withdrew a concussion grenade from one of her belt pouches and hurled it with precision at the still operational canon. As the explosion blossomed across her display, she and Kandor were able to close the remaining distance. Once she was close enough, she vaulted over his shoulder and landed on one of the mercenaries, using her momentum to take him to the ground. A quick extension of her wrist blade as she jammed her fist into his jaw and he was down for good. Her Force sense alerted her to the blaster bolts that hit the decking a split second after she rolled back from her first victim and found her feet. The remaining soldiers fanned out, seeking cover and bringing rifles and sidearms to bear upon her, the speeder turret useless at point blank range. Fett cut down one of them with a barrage from his assault rifle, slotted in the side of the energy shield he still carried as he caught up to his wife. Mirdala pivoted, using the speeder wreckage and the shield for cover from their return fire as she crossed behind him, drawing her pistol left-handed to shoot past his shoulder. Dropping to one knee for additional stability, Fett traded mobility for the protection of the shield and the pair of them made quick work of the remaining troops in the immediate vicinity. “Turret?” he asked her. “I’ll cover you.”

Kandor gripped Mirdala's hand and pulled her to her feet. He paused for a moment, looking down at her. He could remember past Moon Knights that would have seriously considered taking her away from this place, reminded by the artillery strike that any moment could be their last and not wanting to risk the future they could share. But he was not those predecessors. Fett put on his buy'ce, fully prepared to do his duty and die for it if he had to. There were problems that needed to be solved out there, and some of them needed to be solved by him. He and Mirdala were some of the best verde in the oyu'baat, and they had not worked their whole lives to become that way just to abandon their people in their greatest time of need. To put forth anything less than the full might they could muster into winning the battle would be morally reprehensible and dereliction of their duty. Grabbing a swoop parked outside with just enough space for both of them -- and sticking close to buildings and other potential cover from the continued shelling -- the pair made their way back to the north and the battle lines. ShadowFett had a clear idea of what needed to happen next. While their air support disengaged from the battle a few hundred klicks over their heads and moved down probe whatever anti-air defenses were protecting the artillery and knock some out of they could, he would be preparing for a push towards the forest on the ground using juggernauts and other armored vehicles to help cover troop movement. He started making comm calls to various parts of the army, getting status updates on the positions the heavy armor were currently holding. There was considerable work to be done if they were going to free up enough of the vehicles for a major push through the enemy forces. Fett worked with 2277 and the command center to come up with a list of positions that would need to be reinforced or liberated to free up a juggernaut. While the command center started to shift forces around to accommodate the plan, he picked the closest of the objectives and veered the swoop toward it, zipping down narrow streets while his beskar'ad ran another diagnostic on his gear. His targeting rangefinder had ended up bent by a couple degrees, which would limit its ability to swing down. His flamethrower cable had gotten mashed against the inside of the speeder and it would be unreliable or dangerous to use until it received repairs. A couple minutes later they broke out from behind a row of buildings and were on a slope down through a series of barricades towards two juggernauts and support troops that were currently taking heavy fire. The vehicles' durasteel and beskar armor was already scorched black in many places, but they were clearly operational and were dishing out at least as much fire as they were receiving. Arrayed against them were troops with set-up repeating blasters, handheld rocket launchers, a mortar, and snipers occasionally popping up to contribute a carefully-placed blaster bolt. Fett took the speeder as close to the line as he could and, gesturing to Mirdala to stick close, charged forward on foot, joining the ranks of defenders carefully maneuvering around their defensive fortifications and the juggernauts themselves.

"Been through worse," Kandor answered. Truthfully, his elbow was wrenched pretty badly and he would be counting his bruises later, and while he had in the past continued fighting despite much greater trauma, it would affect his performance. "Osik happens. Doesn't change the fact that there's a battle to fight." He looked at his wife. Seemed like her left ear had taken the worst of it. Her implant was on her right side, and since it operated subvocally, he suspected she would be able to hear the squad channel as well as speak through it. But she wasn't in the habit of distributing her implant frequencies outside of the aliit for valid security reasons, and she would have trouble hearing anything else. Being down a sense was a handicap on the battlefield that she didn't need. He transmitted to her, his eyes finding her jade ones. "We can afford to take a few minutes. If you're not fit, Mird'ika, I won't ask you to follow me out there," he said. "But it's your call." If they stuck close and watched each other's backs, it would take substantial injury before they became an ineffective team. She still had the Force, which considerably made up for the loss of hearing, but Fett knew very well that in battle any disadvantage could be lethal. They would have to be especially cautious if they continued accruing injuries, especially if such enemies as Fieyr and Ab'ki realized Mirdala was here and decided to get involved personally.

Although he was doing everything he could to analyze every bit of information that was coming in about the enemy forces, none of it could have foretold the artillery strike. Truth be told, there was always that element of chance on the open battlefield, and it was why Fett had traditionally stayed away from such conflicts. In close quarters urban warfare or in a methodical combat sweep of an installation, space station, or capital ship, his training and his technology could always keep him one step ahead of his aru'ese, and his armor would serve as yet another line of defense. But against an artillery strike, there could be no prep. If the strike had come a second later or if the vehicle had been a few meters further ahead, none of Fett's training could have mattered. He and his wife would have been vaporized. The way things happened didn't give them much of a chance, either. As the speeder flipped, Kandor's buy'ce slammed against the door. He reacted, trying to figure out if he could possibly save Mirdala. He couldn't get out of the speeder but maybe a repulsor field -- Suddenly he felt an invisible force grip him bodily and pull him down to the floor of the speeder even as Mirdala rolled atop of him. An instant later the roof caved in as it struck the ground, the entire speeder inverted in its tumble. Kandor expected the impact to send him crashing onto the shattered durasteel, which didn't give his spine much of a chance, but a tangible cushion of air pinned him and his wife to the floor. The speeder flipped back upright again, then tumbled a full additional time, but Fett and Mirdala remained fixed in place. There was at least one working repulsorlift on the vehicle that protected them from the ground when upright, and it was enough. A moment later, the speeder had settled. Adrenaline surged through Fett and he kicked the broken door off its hinges, dragging himself out from under the crumpled ceiling and wrapping an arm around Mirdala's waist to pull her out with him. In a few seconds they were sprawled on Keldabe dirt. Mando'ade who had witnessed the crash came rushing over. One glance at the wreckage told him that the driver was not as fortunate as they. Kandor forced himself shakily onto one knee and glanced over Mirdala, looking for obvious injuries. All of his joints hurt and he had a sharp pain in his left elbow, but nothing felt broken. He pulled off his buy'ce and his wife's. She looked thoroughly dazed and a trickle of blood issued down from her left ear. Her buy'ce apparently hadn't been able to compensate for the explosion enough to protect her eardrums. Her hearing would be a mess for a couple days. He put a hand on the side of her face, reassuring her, even as he realized what had happened. The Force had given her just enough of a warning that she had been in motion even before the strike had landed. That power, coupled with some quick thinking, had enabled her to use the Force to stick them to the floor of the speeder. It had saved both of their lives. "Master, report," 2277's voice came through his implant. His equipment seemed to have held strong, but he had no doubt he would be finding some new dings and dents later on. "We'll live, Twenty-Two," he answered, then collapsed again next to Mirdala, the adrenaline fading. "Just... give us a few minutes."

ShadowFett hauled himself out of bed at the sound of distant cannon fire, finding Mirdala's hand and gripping it tightly for a moment before letting go and starting to armor up. It was dark out, about 0300 hours. Command had been right about the possibility of an overnight assault after all. He put on his buy'ce even before his chest plates so he could start monitoring the information streaming through his comm and HUD. The command center was already awake and alert, starting to disseminate assignments and coordinate the clans. He knew that some of the staff was sleeping right there in Ops and would hardly leave before this was over, one way or another. He was once again thankful that Judyc's data had given them enough warning to assemble such a team so that not everything had fallen to him. Instead he would get back to the front line. As he donned his beskar'gam he cranked the environmental controls in his buy'ce to give him a shock of cool air and extra oxygen to help him come fully awake and alert. "They have artillery set up," he said aloud to Mirdala. "They're targeting the AA guns, so they're hoping to bomb us." The guns had stood for ages and could take a shelling, but not indefinitely. Similarly, many of the city's structures could take a decent bombing and there were shelters that could withstand even turbolaser bombardment, but if the defenders lost air superiority permanently, Keldabe would eventually be bombed to dust. He called the command center. He noticed he had a comm from Ahzinger's beskar'ad, which 2277 had marked low priority and translated to text to scroll along the bottom edge of his HUD while he placed his own call. It was simply a report that the attack had begun in far less detail than he was receiving from HQ. "See if we can pull some air support to harry the artillery positions," he said. "Divert from the space skirmishes if necessary. We'll have to make a push on foot and with juggernauts if the line breaks." "Master," 2277's voice cut the radio chatter. "The Justice and support are standing by for an attack run." "Let's hold off for now," Fett answered. "With limited ordinance you will only get one good shot, so we're going to make it count." Finally Mand'alor engaged the mag clamps on his repulsor pack and fitted his gauntlets and began holstering besbe'trayce, all while sorting through a few more messages inside his buy'ce. There was one from a CoreSec officer of all people about someone named Emily Zsahra-Skywalker. Fett didn't know the last name, although it was possible that it was referring to Eris, being the only Emily he'd become acquainted with in recent years. The point was moot: whatever had happened to her, he was in no position to do anything about it directly. "2277, if you have some spare processing power, maybe check with some old contacts and see if you can get wind of Eris, then forward whatever you find to Captain Kelvin. We owe her that much at least." "Yes, Master." Fett turned to his wife. "Ready, Mird'ika?" he asked. They would need to take a speeder north to the fighting, but in a few short minutes they would be back in the fight for their home and their lives. From there, planning even a few minutes ahead would lose effectiveness. They would seize one opportunity after another to the best of their ability and hope it added up to the right to fight again tomorrow.

((Co-written.)) Kandor looked up at his riduur as she entered and shrugged. “They seemed normal enough,” he said. “But we can’t afford to ignore any signs.” He couldn’t really fact-check their claim about having a farm not too far from Keldabe, of course, but if they were otherwise to what they claimed to be, he couldn’t see any evidence. “The girls are Force-sensitive? Did you get a decent read on them?” Mirdala pursed her lips. “It would have been really hard to get a true reading on them without giving away my own abilities in the process. At least I have some names I can track down.” She grabbed her datapad and opened a connection with 2277. “Could you please find out what you can about a Kalyani Wartide, Mellanie Dev, and Araac Vevut?” “Wartide?” Fett asked with a frown. “I don’t suppose there would be any relation to Ronin Wartide?” “I have no idea,” Mirdala shrugged. “Does ‘The Link’ mean anything to you cyar’ika? Kalyani mentioned it.” He nodded. “Large entrepreneurial company, did some smuggling, own a huge Casino as well as the Kat Nargal Memorial Resort where the peace talks were held at the end of the war,” he said. “Ronin Wartide was involved with the Link, so Kalyani is almost certainly his daughter. Had multiple confrontations with them during my Black Sun days, and Marc worked with Ronin for a while, too. Not the most savory character -- big-time pirate.” Kandor shrugged again. “Doesn’t necessarily mean Kalyani’s working with Ab’ki, but if she’s as mercenary as her buir, it’s possible.” “True enough. I did wish you’d been able to be there. Mellanie is her sister and Araac’s almost-riduur. Different fathers, or simply trying to distance herself from the Wartide name?” “Funny thing about that,” he said. “I was actually contracted by the Link to look into a scandal surrounding Zara Nargal, Wartide, and then-jetii Sabian Devanus.” “The Supreme Chancellor for the GA is a former jetii?” Mirdala asked with some interest. “This just keeps getting more interesting all the time.” Fett smiled. “If you can believe it, I’m the one that put that scar on his brow in that past life of his and in mine,” he said, thinking back to his fight with the man. The whole situation had been a disaster as soon as the Link had sent Ronin to the supposedly-diplomatic meeting with a Piccolo-led Black Sun. Fett hadn't gotten along with Ronin, but Piccolo had hated his guts. “In any case, my findings during the investigation certainly hint that Mellanie could be his daughter.” “Small galaxy.” Mirdala said simply. “And here the two of them are standing up to fight in our war. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” She decided, climbing into bed. “I’ve got a way of keeping tabs on them, so it’s observation for now.” She keyed him into the signal of the trackers well hidden within the fake casings of the “repulsors” she’d built each of the girls. “Couldn’t take any chances once I found out.” Kandor put down his datapad and released his plates so he could join her. “Never hurts to be cautious.” He felt her familiar form settle against him and it wasn’t long before the two of them were asleep.

Fett declined the shig with a raised hand and a bowed head, indicating that he appreciated the offer. He found he could enjoy the hot drink when he had time to relax with a datapad or a holonet link, but the fighting was too recent and his blood was still too warm too currently imbibe it. Plus he currently had his buy'ce on and was using it to keep track of team chatter. "Some of the outermost fortifications took a beating, but they'll need a much bigger assault to make real headway," he responded. "I think the main body of the army that landed will move in sometime in the next 19 standard hours." He used Manda'yaim's orbital period rather than Coruscant's, which was second nature while speaking Mando'a despite the fact that he'd grown accustomed to 24-hour cycles over his career away from the Sector. "Ops warns that they might attack overnight, but I think they might hold out until daybreak to limit friendly fire. Either way, I think we could pull more defenders to the north side, and your clan would be a welcome addition there." 2277 cut in. "I have the final reports for the first engagement ready for you when you are ready, Master." Fett put his hand to the side of his helmet to visibly indicate to Vevut that he was getting a transmission. "Excuse me," he said, then headed back towards his own camp. He'd had about enough socializing for now anyway. He'd look over the data, meet up with Mirdala and the others, maybe get some skraan, see to his equipment, then possibly try to get some rest in case the brains in the command center were correct and the next attack came after nightfall. There wouldn't be a dull moment.

Fett was glad to hear the situation had worked itself out. He had been worried that this had been a cultist incursion or something, rather than just Darkfire calling on the Force. Of course, that too had had the potential to go bad quickly. Kandor's perspective on the jetiise was uncommon among his people, and was born of his experiences with certain members of that Order as late in his life as Augury membership. At one point some time before that, having tangled with the likes of Hou-Jo Poleb and suffered through a terrifying mental assault, he had been prepared to declare a personal war on the Force and all of its practitioners -- much more akin to the attitude many Mando'ade had carried around with them since the time of Revan. With tensions running high already, an altercation in the camp could have taken an ugly turn, and that was the last thing Keldabe's defenders needed. In any case, Tresha and TeVerd seemed to have smoothed things over, and now Mirdala was asking him to speak with Vevut clan. About what he wasn't certain, but Mirdala had set out after the two women she'd been speaking to earlier, to at least one of which Vi'ika seemed to have taken a liking. The sand hound was usually a fair judge of character but, Kandor reflected, she was occasionally susceptible to such vices as scratches behind the ears. He hadn't failed to notice how they had reacted to Darkfire's disturbance without being clued in verbally that something was happening, which gave him a lead. It was also unusual that one of them wasn't in a beskar'gam, so there was definitely a story there. Fett approached one of the older Vevuts. "Su'cuy," he greeted the man. "Both those dalase belong with your clan? Where are you all from?"

Kandor had limited capacity to socialize even among his own people, and so he was already heading back towards the rally point where Mirdala and the others were waiting when he received a pair of comms. The first was from the beskar'ad that Vihk had sent over, asking for new orders now that the fighting was resolved for the moment. Fett wasn't sure what to do with the droid just yet -- it had been sent too late in the planning process to properly assess its capabilities. For now he would keep tabs on it and use it as a potential ace up his sleeve; if it survived all the fighting he would find a long-term use for it. In this moment, he would take whatever tactical advantage it could give him. "Make sure you have a full charge, then find a post and watch for the army to return," he ordered. As soon as that comm ended the second came in from TeVerd. Seemed there was a situation developing. Fett picked up his pace and slapped a fresh power pack into his assault rifle. He pinged Mirdala's implant with his own and got her position, then as he closed with her he transmitted to her. "Mird'ika. I take it you can feel what's going on?" he asked. He rounded a corner and found his riduur and Vi'ika with two other dalase in armor, one of them not in a proper beskar'gam but here and fighting nonetheless. When she caught sight of him he tilted his head and gestured with his rifle towards the disturbance. It sounded like TeVerd was going to get there first, but depending on what this was, it wouldn't hurt to provide backup.

"I'm sorry, Master," 2277's voice came through his buy'ce. "This symbol is not in my database, nor on the indexed portions of the holonet. I could perform a deeper search, but it will take more time." Fett wrapped the string around his hand, getting another good look at the metal carving as he did so. His check-in with the command center had been brief. The attack had been ver'verde on all sides and had included a few jabs to test the mettle of the defenders posted on the west side of the city and the bridges, but it had clearly been a probe. Whoever Ab'ki's commander was considered the squads expendable, caring more about whatever intel they could gather than their actual success. Still, some of them had proven to be a handful for the defenders, and casualty reports were still streaming in. If the rest of the invaders were as capable as this first wave, the attrition plan wasn't going to work out. There were also reports of battles fought on Concord Dawn and Ordo, but most of the projected armies hadn't materialized yet. "Don't worry about it, burc'ya. I'll do it the old-fashioned way," he said. He recognized the stylized skull on the carving as that of a shatual, of course. He used the hunt the creatures in the jungles here on Manda'yaim in his youth and early adulthood. Which aliit it belonged to however, if it was even a clan symbol at all, he didn't know. But as he began touring the camps, getting a finger on the pulse of the army that had answered his call after their first battle in defense of Keldabe, he began to show the small charm around to see if anyone else knew what it was. Overall the Mando'ade seemed to be in fair spirits. Some had already lost family members, and there would be time for mourning, but in times of battle the warriors pragmatically focused on making it through each fight themselves and seeing to the strength and fitness of their comrades. Everyone knew what they were here to do. If they failed, they would have nothing to go home to, and so there was no reason to give less than everything they could to the cause. Some were maintaining their gear or making skraan, others were rebuilding the fortifications or trying to coax a little more performance out of the juggernauts and AA guns. Some were even sparring, sharpening themselves for the next battle. He'd worked about a quarter of the way around the outside of the city before the shatual skull charm was labeled. "That belongs to Clan Dalab," a woman told him. "I'd heard that Gar didn't make it back. You're looking for a girl named Aduela." Fett thanked her, checked with 2277 and got the location of the Dalab clan's camp. The walk didn't take long. The clan was composed of a few dozen verde in a number of tents. There was a large campfire going and what smelled like shatual cooking on a spit, with a number of men and women in armor sitting around it, their weapons close by. On the far side of the fire from Fett, there was a girl of about fourteen who was staring ashen-faced into the flames, clearly somewhere far away mentally. Some of the clan looked up and greeted Fett as he approached, but she did not. "Aduela?" he asked. The teenager seemed to pull herself out of her thoughts and her eyes came to rest on him. After a moment she stood and walked around the fire, a tear rolling down her cheek. With her dark hair and olive skin, she reminded him a bit of how he imagined Mirdala looked at that age, though her eyes were brown instead of jade. "Yes, Mand'alor?" she asked when she drew close to him. He pulled her off to the side a bit so the whole clan wasn't watching them. He held out the charm. "Your buir asked me to give this to you," he said. The girl fought to keep from sobbing in front of him. "What am I going to do now?" she asked meekly. Fett put a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes there's no easy path, ad'ika," he told her. "But you are strong and so is your family. Honor your buir and remember him daily, until someday you earn your place with him in the manda." The girl lifted her head just a bit. "Is... is the manda real?" He nodded. "Yes. I know for a fact that it is and he can watch and protect you from there," he said. His and Mirdala's experiences in the Temple of the Moon were proof enough of that. "So don't lose hope." The girl took a deep breath and nodded. "I won't. Vor entye, Mand'alor."

ShadowFett watched his traat'aliit disassemble the rest of the mercenary team, both capitalizing on the opportunity he'd opened up and improvising to turn one of the many grenades against their enemies. The frost of the cryoban grenade still hung in the air, catching rays of sunlight and the glare of blaster fire as it settled upon the dust and bodies. He could barely register the sight before perceiving in the 360-degree vision offered by his buy'ce that there was a larger group of aruetiise approaching across the field in a sprint, spraying covering fire on and around his position that could easily turn lethal if he remained stationary. He didn't. Dropping low he pushed himself up against the far side of the ditch. He propped his assault rifle up on the edge and took a few pot shots, using the tiny attached camera and his HUD to aim without exposing his head. He managed to bounce a bolt off a merc's armor and the group of them scattered or dropped low. "Mand'alor," a voice said weakly. It wasn't over his comms. He looked up the ditch and saw a Mando'ad lying in a pile of rubble at the foot of a ruined pallisade. The man's left arm was mangled and along that side of his body his flight suit was soaked red. His green beskar'gam was riddled with holes along one side and flecked with blood. Protruding in parts from the holes were bits of skin and muscle -- they were exit wounds. Fett launched a concussion grenade downrange at a large boulder where he'd seen several of his opponents take cover, aiming for just beyond it, then moved over to the fallen soldier, keeping as low as possible. Blaster fire screamed over his head towards the rest of his team. It only took one glance to know that the verd wasn't going to make it home. Even the man's visor was shattered on the left side, and Fett could see that he was blinking blood out of his eye. "Mand'alor..." the man rasped again. He could barely breathe. Fett's grenade went off and he missed the next couple words. "...daughter and give her this for me." A barrage of blaster bolts clearly intended for Fett streaked down from an angle almost flat with the orientation of the ditch. Two of them struck the dying Mando'ad on the left side. Fett pressed himself flat against the wall but one glanced off his shoulder bell, scarring the dark blue paint. Popping up, he returned fire, his rifle punching through the plasteel armor of the pair of troopers who had initiated the attack. Quickly he whirled around back towards the boulder where he'd fired his grenade, another mercenary coming around the side. Another burst of fire and that man dropped as well. Fett came down on one knee. The verd in green armor was dead. He looked dispassionately at the man, reached down and grabbed from his closed fist what appeared to be a small metal carving on a string. He didn't recognize the symbol so he dropped it in a belt pouch. He couldn't hold his position anymore and he needed to get back to his team. Spraying the nearest enemy position with blasterfire once again, he used a small thrust of his repulsor pack to clear the ditch, then scrambled back around the fortification from which Mirdala had been covering his sides. No time to pause. ShadowFett felt nothing; not fear nor sorrow nor anger. He changed out the power packs on his assault rifle and disruptor and checked in with the command center to see if there were other trouble spots where he could help out.

The shield generator came back on just in time to deflect the brunt of the grenade attack, but ShadowFett's penetrating radar told him that both of the cultists were out of the fight. Meanwhile the Zabrak's armor had held up under the hits she'd taken and the squad was spreading out. They had him pinned behind cover and he knew he only had seconds before another grenade would find its way in. He needed a break in the suppression fire or a bit of misdirection, and it seemed like Tresha on overwatch had problems of her own preventing her from providing the window. So he made his own. These ver'verde apparently didn't see the point of buy'cese and so he would educate them. From his gauntlet he fired a luma dart at the ground to the side of his cover. The dart was small but exploded in a brilliant flash of light so intense it would temporarily blind someone in whose field of vision it had landed. His own visor and those of his aliit automatically compensated for the flash to protect their vision. Fett immediately triggered his repulsor pack and went sailing over Mirdala's head, passing over a Dug that had apparently decided to take its chances against her and TeVerd in melee combat. That was already a big mistake, but Fett had the opportunity to take a couple snapshots at the small figured with his assault rifle and he did so. As he did, he caught sight of the predicted grenade sailing in towards the barricade and called it out to the squad over their private channel -- "Goore!" Generally flying on a battlefield was a good way to get killed, so Fett kept his flight low and brief. Still a few shots from the Nautolan that had backed off several meters sailed past his head before he rolled over smoldering grass into the ditch that the Zabrak, Sullustan, and Togorian were trying to push out of while they regained their vision. He had them in a line so that they could not together turn and fire upon him even if they knew he was there. He dropped his assault rifle and, staying low, drew his disruptor rifle -- a sleek carbine that had enormous destructive power but spent its power pack in just a few shots -- and opened fire on their flank. The enormous Togorian looked that looked like he was wearing the hull plating ripped from a light cruiser took one of the hits full and most of his body disintegrated instantly. Mand'alor's resulting position was a little bit tenuous, although his own team would back him up. More importantly he had the charging mercs outflanked with almost nowhere to go. Tresha, TeVerd, and Mirdala could shred them if they got a window, especially with the shield operator gone. Meanwhile there was another squad of Mando'ade that had picked up on the pitched battle and were closing as well, and Fett knew that the skirmish would be over in moments. The surviving mercs would have to pull back and fight another day or give their lives for Ab'ki.

The grid of anti-air turrets that had been maintaining the integrity of Mandalorian airspace over Keldabe quickly blasted apart the shuttle that was plummeting towards the city. A moment after the threat was neutralized, they resumed their search pattern. If they were any less efficient, the shape of this battle would change dramatically as Keldabe would become subject to bombing runs, and the Mandalorians were eager to keep the fighting on the ground as much as possible, where through strength of arms and defensive fortifications they could win a battle of attrition.

ShadowFett felt his riduur squeeze his hand as the blaster volleys began flying, but he was hyper focused on the battle as information poured through the displays in his buy'ce and he analyzed his own course of action to find where he could get involved and make the biggest difference. So far, the tactical situation hadn't developed dramatically, and with reports that there were some minor attacks along the river and the bridges, there was not sufficient reason to reallocate troops at this time. It seemed that among Ab'ki's forces lurked a few aruetiise that posed a significant threat even to the more experienced verde in the defending army. One such group was advancing up the right side of the battlefield, protected by a portable deflector shield and two jetii'kad-wielding dark siders. When ShadowFett saw the destruction they were doling out, they had his attention. His first thought was to see if that personal shield could take a volley from the juggernauts, but the squad was already getting too close to the Mandalorian lines to bring one of the vehicles around, so he grabbed his ysalamir, checked his assault rifle and advanced on their location with Mirdala, TeVerd, and Tresha. These ver'verde seemed to know what they were doing, but they had never encountered opponents like they were about to. Already having reached the outer fortifications, the group of invaders had appropriated them for cover of their own. Fett approached at a combat crouch, peppering their position with quick bursts fire from his assault rifle to keep them honest. He switched on the penetrating radar setting on his visor, which painted wireframes of objects and individuals that were otherwise obscured by walls and terrain. This effectively allowed him to keep track of each member of the enemy squad and keep them pinned down even as they moved about in the ditch and barricade they'd adopted. TeVerd and Mirdala were keeping close to take advantage of the ysalamir bubble, but it made them vulnerable to a well-placed grenade. Soon Fett heard the thump of a grenade launcher, but in a practiced motion, he spun around, crouched, and triggered his repulsor pack with a voice command. Normally used to push him off the ground and give him aerial mobility, this time the repulsor field met the grenade on its way in and sent it arcing up into the sky. Completing his spin, his boots pushing into the soaked Keldabe soil, ShadowFett dashed forward, moving left around the barricade while TeVerd went right. The two experienced Mando'ade popped around the cover and caught one of the mercs in a crossfire. Even as the others began to draw a bead on him, Fett triggered his flamethrower, sweeping ignited fuel across them. Some of them had the armor and the cover to avoid or survive the attack, but when combined with Mirdala's sonic attack and Seeker disruption, at least one of the Force wielders went down. Fett turned his assault rifle on the Togorian that seemed to be leading the squad. The tall alien opened fire first, and Mand'alor had to jump back behind cover, but then the grenade he had deflected with his repulsor pack came plummeting down into the ditch. Just before it detonated, the mercs scattered, their Force users unable to defend them telekinetically. Smoke and dirt filled the air, but Fett identified the targets that survived and resumed fire with his assault rifle.

Kandor greeted Tresha with a nod as she approached. He was not a speech-giving man, and so he almost dismissed her suggestion outright. He needed to be out on the battlefield. Ab'ki's forces were going to start emerging from the forest within the hour. And yet... he knew that she was right. However he had treated the title of Mand'alor, as the leader of this army he was responsible for addressing them and rallying them. If anything he could say would inspire them even a little bit to do what needed to be done to repel these invaders, he needed to say it. Finally he nodded at her. "You're right," he said. He looked between her and Mirdala. "I'll do it from among them, though, not from here." "Before you go, Mand'alor," someone said, approaching from across the command center. "It seems that Ahzinger left something for you as well. And it's shabla impressive." Curious, Fett approached what at first had looked like an oversized box that had contained the other items Vihk had sent from Nar Shaddaa. However, at his presence it activated, seeming to come to life as it began to rearrange its many panels. Within a few seconds, it revealed itself to be a beskar'ad in the shape of a Mando'ad, complete with integrated blue-and-silver beskar'gam. The war droid was plated in Mandalorian Iron and had weapons emplacements built into its limbs, including what appeared to be an array of wrist rockets and heavy cannons. "I am MAD-01," it reported in Mando'a in a masculine voice. "How may I serve you, Mand'alor?" Kandor surveyed the droid. "Come and fight," he said, heading down the stairs and out into Keldabe. "We will discuss your capabilities later." The beskar'ad followed silently. A few minutes later, he was in the camp, and the verde around him parted to clear his path to the fortifications. Some seemed to straighten at his approach or acknowledge him with nods and salutes. When he arrived at the outer fortifications, he turned back to face the vast array of Mando'ade, holed up and waiting for victory or death. He could feel every eye on him, and he accessed the comm channel that had been set up for him to transmit into every buy'ce in the army. He paused for a long moment. Across the field and into the treeline, silhouettes were starting to appear. The army was practically upon them, the fighting only seconds away. Mirdala stood beside him, and the rest of the aliit was close by. Finally he spoke. "Mando'ade, my vode an. In ancient days our kind were conquerors, taking to the stars to fight and destroy the aruetiise for glory and honor. Though we put aside our thirst for conquest long ago in the name of clan and brother, we carry still the lessons of our triumphs and defeats. On this day an army has come to our homes, to threaten our aliite, thinking themselves better able to do that which is coded into our blood and our tradition. "Let us show them how mistaken they are. Today, let us make them remember what we remember and bring the might of the millennia to bear upon them. Let us show them just how costly this mistake can be!" The long range cannons thumped as the juggernauts let loose a volley toward the treeline. A great shout rose among the assembled: "Oya!"

"She's very close to this," Fett told Rhys. "But she'll get through it, like she always does." He headed the rest of the way to the command center and spent some time there making sure everything was ready, but it wasn't meant to last long. Soon he headed out into the city to spend some time among the troops. Most of them had abandoned the center of town and moved to their assigned posts, setting up tents and campfires as necessary so that they could remain there until the fighting began. So he went out and moved among them, for the most part answering tactical questions and providing information he was receiving from the command center. Exuding his calm presence even in the face of what was to come. The Augury had given him a taste of large scale conflict. Shipyards, the Imperial Spire, a Super Star Destroyer, and the Death Star were among his battlegrounds. He thought carefully about them. Sometimes he had had a squad, sometimes Kirlocca, and still others he had fought alone. This time he had more going for him than ever before -- an aliit and indeed an army standing ready. His aura of confidence was genuine. --------------------------------- The day passed slowly, and over night Ab'ki's forces were deployed to the north of the city and began staging there. They were harassed on and off by Mandalorian air support, but the real battle was going to be on the ground, and the Mando'ade had the biggest advantage there, defending Keldabe from their defensive fortifications. Kandor headed back into the command center, again with Mirdala, to get the last updates before heading to the battle line. Estimates were coming in. Fifty thousand or more aruetiise were projected to be marching on them. A larger force, but a beatable one, Fett thought. He hadn't gotten where he was by underestimating his opponent, however. Ab'ki's people either had a few tricks up their sleeves, or their army wasn't meant to be able to conquer the city. He would stay informed on the events of the rest of the Sector. Already several other worlds and cities were reporting enemy forces amassing outside of them. This conflict would be everywhere.

Kandor helped her to her feet. "You made it through that, and we'll make it through this," he assured her. "Ab'ki picked a fight with the wrong people -- everything you've been through has seen to that." Of course, the battlefield was an unpredictable place, and ones of this size he tended to avoid. In close quarters urban warfare, sweeping a building or attacking an outpost, there was a huge advantage to be gained through information as every target could be pinpointed. On an open battlefield there was a lot more chance and situations that could not be avoided, and Kandor knew there was no guarantee they would both live. Nonetheless he believed in their ability to beat any obstacle through training, preparation, adaptability and intelligence. He felt like they had done everything they could to prepare and so it would be enough. He'd been through bigger fights at the end of the war. He draped his arm atop her shoulders and hit the lift control that resumed its movement. "I have to believe that whatever the Seeker ghosts are showing you, it's to build you up. I hope TeVerd can help you so that when we get out there, we can keep our eyes focused on watching each other's backs and winning this war." The lift doors slid open. They checked in at the command center, but from here on most of that would be done over comms. Right now Mand'alor needed to be out among the troops that were making their final preparations for an invasion that would likely stage overnight and begin in the morning. Though he had no taste for it, he needed to be seen, and the Mando'ade could take from his presence whatever they needed. If anything, he could remind them that he was here, that there was a plan, and that they were prepared. The last time he had come, he had reduced the organized Kyr'tsad presence to shambles. He was dedicated to seeing a similar level of success come out of this time.

Running his thumb over the scar as he took the plate from his wife, Fett shook his head. "Scars keep us from forgetting and I'll bear them gladly," he answered. "The integrity of the plate hasn't been compromised, so I'd just as soon keep it. It's a testament to something we have overcome." To him, it didn't matter that Mirdala was the one that had put the mark there with the beskad'ika she still carried, as if it somehow reflected poorly on her. Instead it was a memory of the time when it had happened, the great evil that Mirdala had been subjected to and subsequently defeated. A memento of his own relentless search to find her even before they had been more than just hunt partners, and a reminder that she had gotten loose from the slavers on her own even as he'd been arriving. As he finished armoring he put on his buy'ce and reports started to stream in. Estimates as to the size of Ab'ki's fleet complement, status checks for Keldabe's defenses, MandalMotors and others scrambling fighters to see if they could slow down the vanguard's advance through the Sector. Fett mentally reviewed Keldabe's assets and tactical situation for the thousandth time in the last two weeks. They'd stationed about 40,000 combat-ready Mando'ade in the small city in addition to its complement of non-military residents and those who would be maintaining the infrastructure. The city itself was situated atop a flat granite hill, surrounded on three sides by the winding Kelita river and on the north side by forest. The city was practically a fort -- although some of the buildings were of simple construction of wood and stone, others were durasteel and some were reinforced by beskar. The distinctive MandalMotors tower dominated the skyline, standing 100 meters tall and adorned with the distinctive mythosaur kyr'bes that the Mando'ade associated with their culture. Along the outskirts of the city, along with whatever barricades and trenches had been constructed in the last few weeks, there was a scattering of armored vehicles, crewed juggernauts that would bring some extra firepower to the battle. Situated throughout the city were a wide array of anti-air turrets that would make air dominance over Keldabe impossible for Ab'ki unless they somehow were sabotaged. The cannons were old but reliable using technologies that the Mandalorians had been refining for millennia. To assist in air defense and provide support to the troops, MandalMotors was retaining a few squadrons of starfighters and bombers. Fett had asked 2277 to move the Justice out of the city, along with a few other Tra'kad-class assault vessels, where they had found a protective mountainside where they could lay low until called upon. The beskar'ad would of course maintain constant connection to Fett's buy'ce to provide tactical insight and coordinate with the command center. Kandor was not a strategic genius when it came to troop movements. He could do anything that he put his mind to fairly well, but in this case he had a full team of the best minds in the Sector holed up in the Oyu'baat command center. They would handle most of the strategy and leave him to make judgment calls when necessary. Meanwhile, he would be on the front line with his people, leading in the way that he always had. Because of the river, the attack was almost certainly coming from the forest to the north, and so much of the defense was placed there. Some had been posted to other parts of the city, but Fett anticipated relocating most of them to where the fighting was thicker if Ab'ki's commanders didn't have an aquatic deployment up their sleeves. Fett, too, would be on the north side, with Mirdala, TeVerd, Tresha, Vy'ika, Rahg, and Rhys. Of the Ad'Norts, only Tresha had stayed, wishing to stay close to help support Mirdala instead of returning to Concord Dawn with Taen and the others. All said, they were as ready as they were going to get. Armored up, Mand'alor began to head out into the city with his riduur. If Ab'ki's people were smart, they would land overnight and march in the morning, so they still had a little bit of time left before the blasterfire started. "Seeker ghosts this morning, or something else?" he asked Mirdala. "Can you feel Ab'ki getting close?" ((Battle itself will start in a post or two. Hang tight.))

Kandor took her hand. "You know, I might just take you up on that, cyar'ika." ------------------- The next two weeks were as difficult as advertised. Fett's command center became a small hub of activity with a proverbial revolving door as Mando'ade on his staff came and went. The team had filled out nicely and, after careful vetting by both conventional methods and Mirdala's senses, had been entrusted with much of the specific planning of the defense of the Sector. They'd been put to hard work as the clans continued to report in with numbers, and a plan started to come together quickly. It quickly became clear that the Mandalorians would have the advantage in numbers. Over four million verde had answered the call of Mand'alor. This was not as great of an edge as it seemed, however, given that the exact plans for Ab'ki's invasion were unknown. Splitting the forces across worlds and behaving in a reactive fashion remained the best plan for the defenders, which meant that if Ab'ki focused her attack on a few locations, she would have the larger army and early advantage. The invaders also had the advantage of preparation time. The Mando'ade knew how to rally quickly to become battle-ready, but no one had expected to need to be formed into a cohesive force on such short notice. Command structure had needed to be worked out in many instances and smaller clans organized together ad-hoc. Most clans had been assigned to defend their homeworlds, but in some cases they needed to be reallocated, which stripped away their home field advantage. ((OOC Note: As a part of this, all PCs are assigned to the defense of Keldabe so we can keep our fighting to one thread. Tros should return from Shogun.)) In any case, Ab'ki could not win a long-term ground war against them. Whatever her specific plans were, attrition did not figure into them. There was some concern that she could pull together a larger fleet and bombard targets from space, and so Fett's meetings with MandalMotors came into focus. The company was profit-driven, but they were Mandalorians and they answered the call of Mand'alor as such, something that was made easier by the fact that they were facing destruction as well if Ab'ki were allowed to succeed. The company did not at this point create capital ships, but they had numerous Tra'kad and Bes'uliik vessels ready to be deployed in addition to whatever combat-ready personal ships the Sector's population could scrape together. Kandor did not spend all of his time planning and organizing. He and Mirdala undertook a new type of training together and tried to spend an hour a day on it in addition to Mirdala's continuing Seeker training -- he retrieved from the Justice one of the ysalamiri they'd recently harvested on Myrkr. The lizard, which Fett carried in a beskar-clad case which he could magnetize to his repulsor pack, would be a significant advantage against the Force-using elements in Ab'ki's army, but it suppressed Mirdala's own Force talents when they fought side-by-side. Therefore they devised a variety of tactics and verbal protocols that would let her weave in and out of the bubble, giving her the flexibility to quickly switch between taking advantage of the protection it offered and allowing full access to the Force. After each day's work, Fett returned with his wife to his room, where his nights were filled with Moon Knight visions. Allis Hett dredged up new memories and prophecies every time he slept without fail, and he revisited battlefields from across a thousand generations. Most were marked by some kind of failure on the part of the Moon Knight that had been there or the side on which they had been fighting, but occasionally he was shown instead a victory earned through correct but unconventional decision making. There were a lot of ways to lose battles and even more to lose a war. Kandor bore the lessons of those defeats gladly with him into the next day's meetings. Just when things were starting to come together and yet far too soon, 2277 woke Fett early on the 16th morning since the briefing with a report. "Master. Clan Sintral's sensor net is picking up a series of vessels entering the Sector. I believe this is Ab'ki's vanguard." Fett glanced at Mirdala, who was already out of bed and pacing, and started putting on his beskar'gam. It seemed the time for talking about the invasion was over, and it was no longer theoretical. The threat to the Sector had materialized, and it was time to make their stand. He commed the command center to confirm that they had received the data, and it began being distributed to the command structure across the Sector and on down to every soldier from there. In a few hours, the fighting would be starting and everything would be on the line.

Kandor weathered the series of attacks but one of her kicks managed to land on his chest plate, the dry Keldabe soil clinging there in the shape of her boot print. He managed to keep his feet, however, and was quickly counterattacking, taking advantage of the significant edge in mass and reach he had over her. At the last moment he turned one of his attacks into a feint, then dropped back a step, resetting defensively so he could ponder what she had said. He had definitely been less-than-forthcoming about her identity to those who had inquired, and they were both fairly private about the nature of their relationship. It had taken them weeks to even tell their aliit that they had gotten married. It was generally good operational security to not give away such details when they knew Mirdala had had a target painted on her back by Ab'ki. There was almost no way Viba had been the only one looking for her, not with the pains Ab'ki was clearly taking to set traps for Mirdala and murder anyone close to her. Now that Mirdala had come out with it, though, Fett realized just how negligible the advantage of keeping the secret was compared to the cost of doing so. It was in his nature to put his emotions last and play a role, so to speak, if an advantage could be gained through it. It was why being marginalized and dismissed in the matriarchal society on Hapes hadn't bothered him a bit. But Mirdala didn't work that way and he'd seen it there. "You know," he said to her as he backpedaled to help him ward off pair of kicks. "My biggest problem with CoreSec is that the rules always ended up getting in the way." Mirdala threw a punch and he weaved around it, then grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her bodily against his beskar'gam. Slipping his arms beneath hers, he bent down and stole a kiss. Suddenly a round of cheers erupted from their spectators. Kandor, holding onto his wife with his right arm, raised his left hand and made a rude gesture behind her back toward the onlookers which generally told them to usen'ye. Still, when the kiss ended he grinned towards them before looking back at Mirdala. "Oops, I guess that's a loss for operational security," he told her, then dropped back into his defensive stance. Once again he extended a hand, inviting her to attack.

As the two ate, Kandor didn't fail to notice that Mirdala seemed a little distant, maybe a bit uncertain. They made light conversation but it was primarily operational. For now he shelved his concerns. He couldn't blame her for being a bit preoccupied with everything that was going on and with the sense of danger and urgency that Ab'ki's potentially-ubiquitous agents could impart onto even routine activities. Still, he had seen her handle herself confidently in stressful and dangerous situations in the past. He decided he would ask her about it if she didn't come around. A little while later they headed out into Keldabe to find a place to spar. With the impending threat of war, it wasn't difficult. The city had quickly become littered with makeshift training yards, shooting ranges, and outdoor meeting places for clans. Those aliite which were prepared enough to get organized by now were eager to spend time building group cohesion and form tighter squads that would help their chances of making a difference on the battlefield. Fett found a mixed-clan area and disarmed most of his weapons. "How about fists and no buy'cese today?" he suggested. His arrival hadn't gone undetected, he noticed. He was new to the whole PR deal, but people were curious about Mand'alor and his partner, and keeping their buckets off would help keep him human to them. Most of the courtyard continued to train, but a few paused to rest for a moment and watch. Although Fett was unused to the public spotlight, he supposed they were entitled to their curiosity. It wouldn't affect how he fought, so the attention was harmless. Soon they had both fallen into their fighting stances, and Kandor gestured to Mirdala, inviting her to attack. Ever since their mission on Hapes, he had been drilling his Teras Kasi pretty strongly. The martial art seemed to be the single most effective discipline in his arsenal when taken as a whole, but by this time he was starting to cherry-pick elements from Mandalorian and Echani styles and work them into it, creating his own unique blend of unarmed combat skills as only a Moon Knight could do. Reconciling the memories of thousands of hours of practice that had taken place in bodies with different dimensions than his own was still a work in progress, but he was better than he had ever been before. Presently he carefully blocked and twisted around Mirdala's initial flurry, then with a practiced motion cut close and delivered a kidney-level jab that met beskar. The exchange continued for a minute or two, and it probably looked fine to the onlookers, but to Kandor it didn't seem like they were quite falling into the rhythm he had come to expect when he sparred with his riduur. He spoke to her subvocally over their implants even as he devised and executed another attack sequence. "You seem a bit distracted," he observed. "You're better than this. Don't tell me our little audience has you second-guessing your moves?"

"I'm always up for skraan," Kandor answered. Already in his weathered but well equipped command center in the third floor of the Oyu'baat, all he had to do was head downstairs to get to the dining area. The several-millennia-old building reflected in many ways of the character of its inhabitants: its rooms were well-worn, designed for practicality over form, and nearly indestructible, but beneath its simple appearance there was a reliable and functional tech infrastructure that made Fett's job over the coming weeks easier. For the most part, anyway. The turbolift had broken down earlier and so Fett took the stairs down. He was only in the dining area a minute before Mirdala arrived to join him. He removed his buy'ce and put it on the table, which had a durasteel surface so worn it was uneven in places. Though Fett could remember one set of thousands of warriors who had worn white and born the Moon Knight title, there was another set of just as many who had sat in this hall, discussing all manner of things relevant to the future of the Mandalorian culture. The enduring traditions of both sets of ancestors were very near in Fett's mind as he took careful steps to make sure that they would each survive the coming weeks. But for now he was glad to turn his attention off of them and onto his wife. "Doing alright?" he asked. "Hope your Seeker training didn't take too much out of you -- I'm spoiling for a workout."