Moon Knight

"I'll try my hand at feeling him out," Kandor replied. He didn't have to know Taen that well to realize how much he had withdrawn. The end of a career that was his life's work was a fairly major deal, but he still had a lot of years ahead of him, especially being half Ageless. Fett couldn't really speculate as to what the man's expected lifespan would be, but there was no question that this was just the end of a chapter of his life. Somehow he doubted his next occupation would be farming. It seemed that Kandor ended up being reminded that his adopted clan name meant "farmer" every time he spent more than a few days on Concord Dawn or apparently even just with people from Concord Dawn. While it was an honorable profession and he didn't mind the simple work, he and Taen were trained and capable to make a difference in more hazardous positions. As soon as the cleanup following dinner was done, Taen started to make his retreat, but Kandor casually but tactically intercepted him. "Mind sticking around for a minute?" he asked. This sort of thing wasn't really his strong suit, but it was worth a shot. He indicated a nearby sitting area and headed towards it. "I was wondering if you'd given any thought as to what sort of work you might be getting into after all of this." He wasn't really prepared to give a sales pitch for a future organization that didn't even have a name yet, but he'd already started cultivating his contacts and someone with Taen's skillset would be invaluable -- the kind of skillset that could keep the organization from floundering and failing. "I might actually have an opportunity."

Kandor nodded at his wife. He appreciated the compassion she'd taken on her cousin and Styl. Now that he had determined nothing was actually amiss, he began to head back towards their room, still finding his surroundings unfamiliar especially in the darkness. He paused after a few steps. "Moon Knight visions are back as promised." He formed the words subvocally. "They're just as cryptic as ever, of course, but it still feels right." Aerodas Sentrant had been one of very few Moon Knights who had served as a military commander while also bearing the mantle. He'd died in the very battle that he'd been planning in the dream. They'd taken to the caves as he'd suggested, and there'd been a good fight, but the Eighth Division had turned back at the news of the Temple's destruction and hadn't arrived to relieve them. The locals had since forgotten the tale, since Sentrant's enemies had swept through and conquered the whole area, in no small part due to the loss of morale suffered when the Temple was destroyed. It had been something of a turning point in the war. It was a stinging defeat that Allis had brought to Kandor on his first night since his visit to Tatooine, and one that had come about partially due to Sentrant's lack of foresight. Kandor couldn't tell if the lesson was for something that was happening now or something still to come. He returned to bed and decided that he would pick his next moves carefully. He had to decide which things were truly the most important and weigh the risks to which they might be exposed before striking out from Chandrila. Eventually he dozed back off to sleep.

Kandor watched the proceedings and allowed himself to be caught up in them. The tale had to be ancient -- even older than the Moon Knights. And yet it had endured over tens of thousands of years through oral tradition, and marked a key aspect of Mandalorian heritage. How many times had it been performed like this around the campfires of their ancestors, all the way back to the Taung on what would someday come to be known as Coruscant? Though Fett usually kept his eyes fixed on the future, deciding what it was that he wanted to be and making it happen through hard work, the blueprints of how he built those goals, the culture he deeply identified with even after many years apart from them, was revealed by the past. How could he hold the title of Mand'alor in good conscience if he had no respect for his roots? Perhaps this was the first time the story had ever been performed on Chandrila in all that history. But the world was not important. Where the aliit went and for whatever reason they did so, that place was a slice of Manda'yaim. ----------------------------- That night, a dream visited him. He stood over a topographical hologram of a battlefield. On one side, marked with blue icons, stood a small force in a valley. The other, there was an approaching swarm of red icons, more numerous, some in the air and some on the ground. Fett looked up at the man who was giving the briefing. Aerodas Sentrant, a tall bald man in white armor, the crescent moon symbol upon his chest. A Moon Knight millennia gone. "Tonight we hold the valley," Sentrant was saying. One of the other officers in the room nodded. "We can funnel them through the pass here," he said, pointing at a natural chokepoint. "But it won't keep their air support from bypassing us and flanking." Sentrant passed his finger along the sides of the narrow canyon. "We'll take to the caves if we have to, just like the Mytolans did in 1244. They seem more intent on engaging us and wiping us out than bypassing us, which gives us the advantage." "They could pin us there for days," another individual said. Kandor thought his name was Matthias, but these were extremely old memories. "The Eighth Division is already on its way. Even if we have to hold for a week on emergency rations we'll persist," the Moon Knight said. Suddenly a man came rushing in from outside the prefabricated ops center where they were meeting. "Sir! We just received word that the Temple of Ostanbulis has fallen!" "What?" Sentrant asked as a wave of shock rolled through the gathered officers. "That place is sacred! How did they even get there?" Suddenly he realized what had happened. The enemy must have been waiting to pounce as soon as the Eighth had pulled out of Meletias. He swallowed. Losing the Temple would deal a deadly blow to the morale of the defenders. This wasn't going to end well for any of them. Fett caught a glimpse of blue behind the messenger and saw Allis Hett, his new Moon Knight interpreter, behind him. She caught his eye, nodded once, and the dream ended. ----------------------------- Kandor woke up pondering the lesson from the past even as he realized it was still the early hours of the morning. He immediately noticed that, despite the hour, Mirdala was not beside him. He got up, pinging her implant to see if she would echo back her location. She did and he headed that way, wondering what was going on. He found his way off down the darkened hallway until he saw Mirdala's figure slowly walking down it, her voice quietly humming a tune he recognized as Vode An. Wrapped in her arms was the small form of the child, Jorad. Kandor quietly approached her to walk beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder opposite the dozing ik'aad and looking down at his tiny nephew, a sense of what he could only describe as aay'han settling upon him. It seemed that Jorad had come into the oyu'baat in tumultuous times, but to Kandor for a moment it all seemed so far away. So as not to disturb the infant, he spoke over their implants. "Hard not to think about if things were different."

While Mirdala headed off with Laesha and Tresha, Kandor started to do a lap around the manor's interior hallways with Taen and TeVerd. "You told me about her ordeal on Tatooine," Taen was saying. "Complications from that?" "And a more recent event," Kandor answered. "Really we're doing fine. Question just caught us offguard." Taen nodded in acceptance. TeVerd knew that they'd been working through it, and had had said what he'd needed to say on Talus. Fett changed the subject. "What else is happening on Concord Dawn? Anyone we should be looking out for?" "Ab'ki got her claws into a lot of people," TeVerd answered, not bothering to conceal his disdain. "Going to take time to hunt them all down." "Anyone close to Mirdala?" Fett asked. Taen shrugged. "Caelix Trammel was one of her instructors during her JP training," he said. "Weapons master, one of the best. Mirdala never got along too well with her. But she was also the one who cleaned up the incident with Ca all those years ago." "Explains how that jetii'kad ended up on Hoth after its supposed destruction," Kandor observed. "Trammel still missing?" "For now," TeVerd said. Fett remembered the vision of how the Seeker had fought that Kyr'tsad turncoat he'd witnessed in the Temple of the Moon. He knew that same anger was burning within TeVerd for Trammel and her ilk. Frankly Kandor didn't blame him one bit. These men and women were aruetiise, traitors to their own people. He'd been motivated by credits to take jobs before, but they had traded their very souls for money. He'd stood against their kind himself on Manda'yaim, and now Jurgen Bialle and Viba too had fallen. It was grisly work but it was necessary, and there was a lot more to be done. "No leads on Ab'ki yet, I take it? Any activity from the cult she and Ca used?" "Not since they were routed by the Protectors," TeVerd answered. "Since Hoth was a dud there's no confirmation that they still exist." Shadows and sleeper agents made for difficult enemies. Every individual and lead had to be pursued carefully with no knowledge of who else might not be trustworthy. The only way to really make Concord Dawn safe again was to cut off the head of the snake. Hopefully they would have some results from Viba's data within the next few days. Kandor's implant signaled that he had a message from Mirdala. "Seems like we have somewhere to be," he said to the others and started heading down towards the courtyard.

The Protectors lost a good man in Taen Ad'Nort, and Kandor could see his frustration. It was an unfortunate side-effect of such times as these, however. While Fett believed in Taen's competence and character due to their time working together on Concord Dawn, the truth was that several of his closest advisors had successfully deceived him and fed information to the enemy under his watch. It was the correct decision to step down, especially given the danger to his aliit, whether or not another man could have prevented what had happened. Kandor helped them move in and as more of the aliit arrived, his mood lightened somewhat. They were a boisterous lot when all brought together, and it was an event that was uncommon enough that he could tell everyone was glad to have a place to catch up where they didn't always have to be looking over their shoulders. He found himself sitting between Mirdala and Tresha as they dug into the skraan his wife and the beskar'ade had prepared, and he made some light conversation with the latter. Tresha, a human beroya just a bit younger than Kandor and adopted into the Ad'Nort clan, in many ways formed a mental bridge between him and the rest of the aliit just as well as Mirdala did, and he found her commentary on some of their antics both amusing and illuminating. When he felt Mirdala squeeze his hand and her words popped into his kovid, he nodded at her and took a moment to think about what he was going to say, then stood to get everyone's attention. He looked from TeVerd at one end of the large table all the way down to Laesha at the other, his eyes briefly meeting everyone else's along the way. Fourteen in all, it was an impressive crowd. When the conversation died down a bit, he spoke. "Now that we're all here, I just wanted to welcome everyone formally. I hope you can forgive the opulence of your surroundings," he said with a smirk, gesturing around him at the distinctly un-Mandalorian furnishings, "but I am glad I've held onto the place all these years if it can be of any use to this aliit." He paused, then smiled, pulling his wife to her feet next to him by the hand and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "That is, my aliit. Mirdala and I got married a few weeks ago." A chorus of "Wayii!" and "Kandosii!" and "Oya!" broke out around the table and Kandor kissed Mirdala on the cheek before sitting back down, his smile widening into a grin. Across the table, Edra excitedly turned to her mother. "Does this mean we get more baby cousins to play with?" she asked, barely able to contain herself. "Because that would be amazing!" Elesha added, clapping her hands and looking at Kandor and Mirdala. Kandor's grin broke for a second and he glanced at Mirdala. The table quieted immediately as the empaths in the family looked at her, and he winced slightly knowing that she'd been caught offguard and broadcast her initial reaction. The twins didn't fail to pick up on it either, it seemed, and Elesha recoiled slightly. "It's okay, ad'ika," Kandor assured the seven year old as he grabbed Mirdala's hand again under the table. "Some questions just don't have easy answers." He would let Mirdala decide what she wanted to say on the matter.

Totally relaxed, Kandor stood on the balcony and looked out at the landscape around the manor, lingering for a moment after Mirdala headed downstairs. He got a glimpse of the mirrored perspective he had compared to the last time he was here. He'd already been Moon Knight when he'd purchased this place, but so much else had changed. Back then he'd basically traveled the oyu'baat training and looking for fights... and that had been it. He'd been lonely without ever knowing it. Now, not only was he married, but everything that wasn't spending time with her seemed more a responsibility than a purpose. Still, it was responsibility that drove him forward. Mirdala hadn't dulled his drive to do the right thing and fight the important fights. He looked at the work before them and welcomed the challenge. Just as in his many years of solo work, he'd always preferred to be gainfully employed, so too in his married life did he know that their best selves and their best relationship would only come about through varied and difficult circumstances. Cleaning up and dressing -- eschewing his beskar'gam for now in favor of military-style trousers and a plain black shirt -- Kandor Fett headed downstairs to make sure they were ready for their guests. --------------------- The first ship of Ad'Norts was descending toward the hangar and Kandor and Mirdala went out to meet them. The aliit would be arriving in multiple vessels due to their varied locations, but all would be arriving within about a ninety minute window, the end of which they were targeting to have a family dinner. The first wave were Taen, the Sector Protector and biological son of Hwulf whose spirit Fett had just met; Taen's Kiffari wife Reska; and two of their three ade, the twin girls Edra and Elesha, who were about seven. Their other daughter, Trita, would be arriving later. As Kandor greeted them and helped grab some of their bags, he got an immediate read on them and started to understand how bad things had gotten. Taen was showing obvious signs of stress, but Reska actually had a series of scrapes and bruises, including some bandaging. Kandor met Taen's eye. "Me'bana?" he asked, his voice a bit hard, though he suspected he knew. Taen wouldn't have liked the idea of fleeing their home to hide offworld any more than he did, but when it came to their wives' lives being in real danger, hadn't Fett already proven his willingness to whisk Mirdala off to Hapes or Corellia to play things safe? Good operational sense had to beat stubbornness in situations like these.

The beskar'ade, for their part, had done a more than adequate job maintaining the manor in Fett's several-year absence. There were still things he needed to inspect himself and things that they would need for the time ahead. Truthfully, he hadn't spent many credits on the place after buying it, not having had to make use of it in favor of his other secure locations. Part of it was that he simply didn't have a taste for the location's opulence, nor any will to fully deck it out. It did have some rudimentary defense systems towards which he had occasionally funneled some extra resources. Certainly enough to keep out pests, squatters, and thieves. The whole location was remote enough that a large amount of its security came through its obscurity, and it was legitimate enough that CoreSec would show up if it reported a problem. Nothing in the manor would link back to Fett in any way, and he did not use its computer banks to store any of his personal data. It was purely a place to fall back if he needed it, another lean-to in the core area. Their aliit would be safe enough here. His sweep complete, he made his way up to where Mirdala was meditating. The Ad'Norts had started out closer to Chandrila than Tatooine, but from the sounds of things, they would essentially be abandoning their homestead until the situation on Concord Dawn stabilized, and that took prep. They would probably be along in a few more hours. Entering the room, Kandor left his buy'ce on a nearby end table and approached her, putting his hands on her shoulders and beginning to massage them and her upper back, taking in the sights. "Nice world to escape to," he said. "Don't like the manor any more than when I bought it, but it's safe and should be a welcome change for the aliit." He had questions about just what was happening on Dawn, and he was expecting a full explanation when everyone arrived. They certainly wouldn't abandon the farm for just anything.

The Justice emerged from hyperspace over Chandrila and Kandor had to call up the coordinates of his safehouse to make sure he knew where he was going. He hadn't actually visited since his original stay after purchasing it, though he did receive regular updates on its status from the beskar'ade that maintained the place. "Not exactly my usual kind of place," he told Mirdala as the ship made its approach. The structure was a bit isolated, but it could only really be described as a manor. The layout was designed to enable a comfortable life for a socialite or wealthy heir to some fortune. There was an expansive courtyard in the center, boxed in by hallways and rooms of almost every variety, including a sizeable dining hall, ballroom, and living quarters. Not all of the rooms were fully furnished, but the detail of droids would have kept it in good shape. Really the place had only been affordable because of its location, a failed attempt by the builder to be the center of a new community which was supposed to form up around it. "But that was kind of the point at the time," he explained. "Was trying to pose as someone of wealth who might have need for a bounty hunter. There was a price on the head of the mercenary dar'jetii Slicer, so I invited him here with the promise of a job. Unfortunately someone got to him before he could take me up." He looked at 2277. "Keep an eye out for our guests and send them coordinates as necessary," he said, bringing the Justice in for a landing.

As he lifted the Justice off the ground and got 2277 working on the hyperspace jump calculations to get them to Chandrila, Kandor listened in on the conversations Mirdala was having getting everyone organized and en route. He tried to mentally count how many guests he'd be having, but ultimately he knew the Chandrila safehouse could fit everyone comfortably. By the time she'd finished the call to TeVerd, they'd made orbit and the coordinates were laid in and ready to go. Tatooine was not particularly close to Chandrila, but to its benefit it sat just off the Corellian Way which provided an express lane directly to the core worlds, cutting down what would otherwise potentially be a several-day jump into a much more manageable time segment. Still, they would have some downtime during the trip, Kandor reflected as the ship entered hyperspace. "I could use that shower," he said.

Kandor couldn't say for certain that he did not hate Viba, but if all that he had endured being raised by the man was the price for the happiness he could now experience with Mirdala, if any part of what had happened had led to their meeting aboard the Enigma, he was willing to forgive him. He would waste no time directing ill will towards the dead, not when the present needed his full attention. As they kissed he realized he never had to worry about her becoming as steeped in hate as TeVerd -- it was one of the things she would never inherit or learn from the Ageless. It just wasn't a part of her. Resting his forehead against hers, he tilted his head towards their cabin. She nodded and he led her by the hand there, releasing the maglocks on his plates. It would be... a bit different this time, the first time since her captivity. In some ways he didn't think they could ever be intimate with each other again without the reminder that she could no longer bear children. But that in no way hampered their desire to be close to each other physically and pursue this expression of their riduurok as well as their affection. They would just have to figure out how to move forward together, and this was an important step. They pulled off their boots and he laid her down on the bed, lifting the hem of her tank top and kissing her as -- A beep sounded from the front of the ship. "HIgh priority message from Concord Dawn over the secure channel," 2277 announced over the intercomm. "I'm afraid it's a bit garbled, Master." Kandor sat up, annoyed at the interruption but realizing this could be important. "Put it through, burc'ya." A voice came through the channel that he quickly realized was Briia Silvar's. "Mirdala, there's been an incident." Static. "--need to get off the planet. Safe place--" Static. "--Ad'Norts." A few garbled words. "--into hiding. Hope you know a place--" "I'm afraid that's all I could decipher, Master," 2277 reported. Kandor looked down at his wife for a moment, then decisively pulled his shirt back on, giving her a commiserating look that adequately said we just can't catch a break sometimes. "Bought a place on Chandrila several years ago," he said. "Much bigger than the Corellia safehouse, kind of in the middle of nowhere. Just realized I never had a housewarming party. What do you say we invite everyone over?"

As the scenes unfolded in his mind, Kandor was struck by a few things. The way TeVerd had been able to ghost out of the Force. The empathic "lash" that he'd performed on the Kyr'tsad in the second vision. The profound links between TeVerd and Mirdala, from how they fought to the equipment they'd shared, as was pointed out. But also the deep, pervading hate that had taken hold in TeVerd's heart, the way he let it almost consume him. It reminded Kandor of how Isolder would give himself over to the dark side during battles against powerful enemies, surrendering himself to rage and accepting the consequences because it helped him fight, and he had to treat every fight like his last. It shed some light, he reflected, on TeVerd's character. The respect with which everyone treated him, the duality of how he could be both nurturing and light-hearted and yet stern to the point of becoming vindictive. The Omicrons never seemed to want to be the ones to share bad news with him. He supposed a life that long of that kind of service might inevitably lead to that. While he had accrued many times more experiences through the Moon Knight memories, which found even TeVerd to be very young, he could separate them from himself, compartmentalize them. Not every bad thing that had happened to a Moon Knight had happened to Kandor personally, and developing a thirst for revenge against villains long after they were gone was not productive nor beneficial to his oath. "Had no idea myself," he told his wife as the ghosts faded away. "But I'm suddenly glad I had that nightmare that led us here." He studied her face for a moment. "Believe me when I say I have all appreciation for your call to carry on an ancient legacy," he said. "But TeVerd's hate... I hope you will never need that." And not just because she was a Force adept. He saw other things in her which were much more noble, and he believed could be better motivators to fight. Her compassion, her willingness to see beauty in the oyu'baat, the sense of responsibility they shared to use the talents they had to protect those who could not protect themselves. These were some of the things he loved about her, and it would pain him greatly to see them perish under the weight of anger and revenge. "Ready to go?" he asked her. When she nodded, they headed back out the way they'd come into the sanctum. The enormous doors swung outwards as they approached the exit, giving them a view of the dunes as the sunlight spilled in, shattering the cool darkness of the Temple's interior. The blowing particles of sand hung suspended in the air soundlessly, the world outside seemingly frozen. Kandor grinned at Mirdala's expression of wonder. "No matter how long we stay here, no time passes beyond these walls," he said. She put her hand out, reaching into the sand and waving the grains into a pattern. Then finally they stepped through together and the wind howled as the Temple began its descent back into whatever mystical chamber it resided within when the Moon Knight was not inside. Headed back to the Justice, Kandor realized he wasn't certain where they were going next. Until the team got through Viba's data, they didn't have any mission leads to follow, so he supposed it was still downtime. "Back to the Enigma, or try someplace new?" he asked.

As the symbol changed, it eventually took the shape Kandor had seen both on Rahg's beskar'gam and upon his son's in the vision. He was not surprised to hear that the Seekers dated back to the Taung -- that race, though long separated from their homeworld of Coruscant, hadn't actually been extinct for that long, from a Moon Knight perspective. What did surprise him was that the founding members had been specialized against jetiise bal dar'jetiise. He'd known on some level that the Seekers had some form of special advantage against Force users, but he hadn't realized how central it was to their tradition. He wondered idly if Takkoral fully understood that what whatever secrets she was telling him would be carried forward among the generations of Moon Knights potentially until the end of civilization. But he trusted that so too would the context in which they were shared, and that no future Moon Knight would use the knowledge inappropriately due to their oath. Either way, Kandor would have to be careful when choosing his own successor someday. "I understand," he answered the ancient Seeker. Her violet eyes struck him. TeVerd's were similar, but he did not see the trait among the others. "So the Seekers began as empaths merely by being Ageless," he said. "Are the techniques they use to hunt Force practitioners and communicate with the spirits of their predecessors intrinsically tied to that ability?" He wondered if the bond could actually be through the Force itself. He had a rather unified perspective that all seemingly-mystical powers and spiritual realms were actually tied to or contained within the Force. Empathy itself excluded, since it functioned within an ysalamiri bubble. He honestly couldn't say he'd ever had a Moon Knight vision within such a bubble, but he typically didn't sleep in one.

Kandor listened to the story unfold with interest. He'd asked before about how Jorbe had come to adopt Mirdala, but no one had known the full story except for the dead. And now it was the dead that related it to them. There was a Mandalorian saying -- nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la -- which translated roughly to "not dead, merely marching far away". The words were usually said as a tribute and an acknowledgement that the departed would be remembered, but the presence of these spirits indicated that there was a literal truth in them. There was still something sobering about the story, knowing that not only had Ab'ki and Viba gotten to Jorbe and Cyare, but she'd also found several of the other principle actors, who were now buried on Soresh's farm on Concord Dawn where they'd been staying. The tale also provided a more concrete link between Soresh and Mirdala, Soresh being the son of Erich Delavvo. The other thing he noted during the conversation, now that Mirdala's buire got his full attention, was that they bore a coincidental resemblance to her. He supposed it had helped her not stick out, and had led to her not knowing she'd been adopted at all until much later, when she'd begun investigating the Sivaara family. At the end, Kaille filled in yet other detail he'd been missing -- just how Mirdala and TeVerd had come upon each other. It was as simple as he'd thought it had been. TeVerd had merely been in the area, and perhaps because of the fact that both he and Mirdala were empaths, she'd been drawn to him. Mirdala's childhood had really formed based on the good will of two Mando'ade, both having seen a child who needed their help and both stepping up to provide it. Kandor respected them tremendously for it, and wondered if someday he would also be called to act as they had. So much had had to happen to bring he and his wife together, but perhaps there were no coincidences. "That it does," he agreed with the ancient Ageless. "And I suspect bringing us all here is just another way of doing that." He knew how much good this must have been doing for Mirdala... that, the restoration of the visions, and the counsel they'd received painted a picture. "Maybe you can tell me a bit more about the Seekers," he said. "Feels like I'm still missing some of the story. You're an ancient order sworn to protect the Mandalore Sector against all threats. But what is the link between the Seekers, the Ageless, and empaths?"

"It confirms that what I experienced was just an ordinary nightmare," Kandor told his wife when she asked for verification of her torturer's death. "He sure seemed dead to me." He wasn't in the habit of leaving his enemies for dead. The ship's scanners had double-checked on their way out. The only way Viba could have survived is if he'd been resuscitated later, and the possibilities of doing that after being dead for so long were pretty slim. Moon Knight continued to watch the interactions between Mirdala and her ghosts for a moment and was struck with a moment of perspective when she pointed out where her life and abilities had brought her. They stood now, a married couple, in pocket dimension among the sands of Tatooine, each having brought their own spirits and ghosts to convene and discuss as though in the flesh. Though they had risen from humble beginnings, they had made much of themselves, and now there loomed before them what could be their greatest triumph yet or their ultimate defeat. "It's building up to something," Mand'alor answered Kaille. "There's no reason Ab'ki would turn all of her moles and sleeper agents loose unless she either didn't need them anymore or she was softening up her target." Suddenly the ghost council of Moon Knights manifested again. "For what lies ahead you must be prepared most of all," one of them -- a female Twi'lek Moon Knight from twelve thousand years before the Mandalorian Wars named Allis Hett -- said. Despite having been a resident of the oyu'baat for sixteen millennia, she appeared as she had been when she died in her late twenties, just a year after becoming Moon Knight. "You must not be afraid to lead when called upon. I will help you in any way I can as your new interpreter." Kandor nodded. The blue-skinned Twi'lek had been far enough back that he could only remember the major events of her life. But her pursuit of her oath had been tremendously earnest, and her desire to make a difference had been so great that she had gone willingly to her death for the cause. It made sense that she would be driven to continue to serve in this capacity. He also vaguely remembered what it was like to have lekku, now that he thought about it. "I understand," he replied. "What is it I need to learn?" "Only to open your mind to me," Allis answered. "Close your eyes for a moment." Fett obeyed. Allis walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders, and the moonlight in the room intensified. "Do you see?" she asked. "Yes," Moon Knight answered after a moment, brow furrowed in concentration. The moonlight faded and Allis stepped back. "Then we are done," she said. "Be mindful of what has been said here. We will be in touch." The ghosts faded again, but for Jarad Roda, who lingered and seemed to be studying Hwulf. "Thousands of years ago, I encountered your kind. Though we did not get along at the time, I was impressed by your dedication and skill." He looked at Fett. "It is good that you have made allies of them. That you have brought your wife here reflects the very trait that has made you beyond Marc's counsel. There remains much in store for you to accomplish, and you may yet succeed if you hold fast to it." Then he too was gone.

Looking at each of the spirits as they were introduced, Moon Knight recalled what he had been told about them. Carid had been an ally of TeVerd, and had been the one under whom Fieyr had begun his tutelage, before his jealously and arrogance overtook him. Hwulf was the patriarch of the Ad'Nort aliit, the husband of Laesha and the buir of Taen, Aluir, Vannae, Tannae, Tresha, and Valyin. He would have been like an uncle to Mirdala. TeVerd's buir was in a large part responsible for the involvement of the Omicrons in the events of the last year. And Jorbe and Cyare... he and Mirdala had just heard Viba's account of their deaths. Kandor could not imagine what Mirdala must feel to see them again in this place. Of those gathered, Jorbe and Cyare were the only ones who were not Seekers. "It's an honor to meet you all," he said. He had never expected to meet his wife's parents, certainly not in the Temple of the Moon, but the mysteries of the universe had a way of revealing themselves in places like this. He met Jorbe's eye, then Cyare's. "I hope I can say that your deaths have finally been avenged, and that question is partially responsible for bringing us here." "We are surprised you did not return here sooner," a voice said. Moon Knight turned and saw that a council of his predecessors had formed upon the dais. Not nearly as numerous as the thousands he knew existed, it was still the first contact he'd had with anything but their memories since the RAGE incident. "I'm here now," Fett answered. "Is Marc not among you?" "Marc has passed on, for now," one of the shining white spirits said. This was Jarad Roda, a Jedi Master and one that had in life made limited contact with the Seekers or some like them, upon whose memories Fett had based his initial idea of what a Seeker was. The apparition eyed Mirdala and her associates, but did not otherwise acknowledge them. "When the RAGE was purged from your body, he observed what you became and decided that his guidance you no longer needed." The current Moon Knight regarded him. "I need to know why the visions then stopped, and if what happened last night was a new one." Jarad looked at him patiently. "Marc Spector was to you what we call an interpreter," he said. "He conveyed new information from us to your mind." "He was in some of my visions, but not all of them," Fett said. "Many of them originated from one of us," Roda explained. "A purely voluntary function for a post-life Moon Knight, for when we are not satisfied to rest." "Without Marc, I can receive no visions?" "We can teach you how to open your mind to a new interpreter, if you wish," one of the other specters answered. "But it is very unlikely that anything you saw since his departure came from one of us." Moon Knight took a deep breath and let it out. Kelborn must have really done a number on him, that a mere nightmare had sent him all the way out to Tatooine. But this trip could be productive still, if he could restore the visions while giving Mirdala some time to interact with her own counselors. "I am willing to learn," he replied. "There is no doubt that the visions aid my ability to uphold my oath." The ghost nodded. "Then see to your guests while we prepare." Immediately he and those with him vanished, the chamber dimming.

Moon Knight looked up at the enormous Ageless who not only dwarfed Mirdala, but would even make TeVerd look small. He did not recognize the being, but he had a pretty good guess what was happening. "The Temple lies between the realm of the living and the dead... whether you choose to call it the Force, the spiritual realm, or the Manda," he said. "The moonlight reveals their spirits, and it seems you have brought your Seeker ghosts with you. I suspect my own advisors are nearby." Even as he spoke, he looked across the broad room, which was partitioned by streams of moonlight coming in through windows and reflecting off of tall mirrors. In the moonbeams they could see a small host of white specters proceeding towards them, their forms winking out of sight again as they crossed the expanse between the light's silvery columns. As Kandor watched them, he recognized each one. Sentra Antilles. Luke Alogain. Renn Falador. The list went on. Each face was tied to a hundred stories. He knew their greatest victories and their ultimate defeats, their lifetimes of pain and hardship and triumph and happiness. Each in the line before him had eventually fallen or passed on their power to their successor, and there was honor in both. They were in no particular rush to get to Fett, it seemed. He turned back to the Ageless spirit and Mirdala. "Would you like to introduce us?" he asked his wife.

The Justice rocketed out of hyperspace over Tatooine. Since the Enigma station had brought them most of the way while they slept and packed, they'd made excellent time. The station remained now above the galactic plane, which gave it some advantages in plotting efficient hyperspace jumps, as intergalactic stars were relatively infrequent. What time they'd had Fett had spent becoming more accustomed to his new implant, linking it up to Mirdala's over the same private frequency they'd been using for years and practicing some basic commands like interfacing with shipboard systems with some help from 2277. Presently he piloted the distinctly-Mandalorian craft down towards the vast Dune Sea, to a place that seemed like any other patch of uniform desert. There he nestled the ship down behind one of the infinite dunes, its landing gear sinking into the loose sand before the weight of the vessel compacted enough of it to make a firm resting place. Lowering the ship's boarding ramp, Moon Knight gestured to his wife and headed out into the sweltering heat of the binary suns, picking his way up and over the crest of the nearest dune before descending down the treacherous slope on the far side. As he did, a rumbling began at first faintly but then grew, and up from beneath the sands emerged a long white spire topped with a solid diamond in the shape of a crescent moon that resembled the insignia Fett wore on his beskar'gam. Following the main spire were several other lesser ones, then the main body of the structure followed, white marble that rivaled the suns in brilliance. Kandor's stride remained unbroken as he moved purposefully toward it even before its surfacing was complete. The Enigma might have been his home, but this was the place most secret and most sacred to him. As a rule, he knew even Mirdala was not supposed to come inside with him. It was a place only for Moon Knights, and the last that had trespassed had died by his hand. But the instruction that he had been given was strictly that he was supposed to protect the Temple, and as it had nothing to fear from his wife, it would abide her presence because he willed it. "Come on inside," he told her. "There is nothing to fear from this place." Inside they found alabaster halls, some dark and others full of silvery moonlight. The structure seemed enormous from the inside, far larger than it had appeared above the sands. There was a timeless tradition about it, sacred walls carved before the rise of the Republic by some unknown and incomprehensible Ancient whose nature even Moon Knight was not privileged to know. The passages and rooms were cool, in sharp contrast with the blistering heat of the desert beyond the walls. Fett walked towards the central chamber, an enormous crypt lined with thousands of shelves bearing thousands of sarcophagi, each one marked with the symbol of the crescent moon. In the center was an altar, and above them they could see Tatooine's greatest moon, Ghomrassen, shining a singular beam down to fall upon the pedestal which Fett now approached. "Marc?" he spoke, but there was no answer. The halls were still.

"Vor'e. You have already helped greatly, and I will keep your offer in mind," Kandor told Vy'ika. He had yet to call on his new aliit for the kind of support that was being offered, in practice still preferring self-reliance, but he'd come to understand that he could not be an island if he was to successfully face the challenges ahead -- from maintaining a healthy marriage to beating Ab'ki to founding an organization and beyond. He resolved to keep an open mind to the concept, one that had never been available to him before, not only for his own sake but for his wife's. He knew how to fight and survive and he could lead when called upon, but his upbringing and solo career had developed those skills at the expense of others which would be just as important to his long-term outlook. When the other clone headed off toward his ship, Kandor went with Mirdala to see him off more properly. With any luck, their time apart would be short and Judyc's data would give them a lead on Ab'ki or at least some of her plans. Best case scenario, it had a list of her locations and a strong hint as to her physical location, and they would be kicking down her door in days or weeks. Once Vy'ika departed, they started to pack up their sensors and gather their ysalamiri, planning their next move. Kandor was eager not to keep all the lizards aboard the Justice -- not only did he not need the entire ship blocked off from the Force, but if something were to happen to it, he didn't want to have to make another trip here just to restock. "What do you say we swing by the Enigma?" he suggested. The space station was not far, having been relocated to be a closer to the Mandalore Sector, which was itself not far from Myrkr. Mirdala agreed and soon the MandalMotors Tra'kad disappeared into hyperspace.

Her description of Shogun drew Kandor back to his own youth on Manda'yaim. Largely untamed, the world's rugged landscapes ranged from thick forests and jungles to broad grasslands and harsh white deserts. Kelborn's insistence that they remain largely isolated made sense for similar reasons as Mirdala's own family, except that it had been his own secrets he'd been concealing. There was no doubt that his presence would have drawn attention if it had come out that he was Judyc Viba. And so Kandor had only had sparse contact with the settlers, hunters, and frontiersmen that had come through their neck of the woods. He'd had to learn those woods well, but he thought of them with none of the fondness that Mirdala had for the Shogunite jungles. As a part of his education, Kelborn would leave him out there for days on end to fend for himself. He'd learned from experience where it was safe to lie low and where to avoid. He'd been vying against the wildlife for survival before he was ten years old. He couldn't deny that as an educator, Kelborn's methods were effective even if they were harsh. Kandor had learned well that it was only through his wits could he master the perils of the wilderness, and that only through dedication to training and education could he establish his place above the predators that were bigger and stronger than humans like him. He was taught to be totally self-sufficient, and though at first he'd longed for the experience and protection of his buir, he had eventually come to prefer the solitude. Kandor hated Kelborn for all of it almost as much as he hated him for what he had done to Mirdala decades later. He'd been fighting an uphill battle to overcome some of the psychological damage his dar'buir had inflicted on him. His marriage to Mirdala showed how far he had come, but it had been a hard and unlikely road, one he could have easily missed. Indeed, if exactly Mirdala hadn't come around at just the right time like she had, with all her stubbornness and fire, he believed he would even now be little more than the predator he was raised to be -- a solitary if honorable hunter of men. It was unbecoming of Fett to dwell on such thoughts. He looked ever forward, and forced his mind out of his brooding. "When you're ready, we'll go together," he said, and left it at that. Maybe he wouldn't be able to put off talking about his upbringing with Mirdala forever, but right now she didn't need to hear more about what Judyc had done. ---------------------------------- After breakfast the next morning they set out to begin the ysalamiri harvest in earnest, pulling the equipment out of the Justice's storage holds. Kandor had been here many times by now, and last time they'd come he'd taught her the process by which the lizards could be safely extracted from their Olbio trees without killing them. The technique still took time, especially since they had to be prepared for a vornskr attack if one should happen, but they could still manage a few ysalamiri a day around their other activities.

There was a certain way about Vy'ika, Kandor reflected. He'd managed to draw Mirdala out almost by antagonizing her. From the words that were said, he started to understand why it had worked... and realized how foolish the thought had been that he and Mirdala needed to process this alone, as though he was solely responsible for that burden. It did not reflect poorly on him that someone they trusted could come in and help them with just a few words -- it was called being a part of an aliit, and he was grateful for it. He could not have done what Vy'ika did, but he hadn't needed to. After dinner as they walked, Mirdala spoke more words to him than she had since they'd left Talus. "TeVerd pointed out the same thing about adoption," he replied. "Neither of us were raised by our biological parents, and that can be a very good thing. Someday we can look into it." There was something he liked about just walking. Even just a simple task helped put his mind to work, and true inactivity was a slow death to him. "Tell me about Shogun," he prompted her. "I would like for you to take me there at some point, but I haven't yet been. What was it like to grow up there?" The last time they'd spoken about the world had been on Hapes, and she'd sullenly reflected that she didn't think her parents' killer would ever be brought to justice. She'd been mercifully wrong since Viba had confessed to being responsible. Kandor wondered how much less bearable this would be if the Kyr'tsad had escaped like in their previous two encounters.

Watching his wife break down and play out her grief in the woods was in a way every bit as painful for Kandor as the inciting event that had caused it. Whatever someone could put him through, he was willing to bear it out of stubborn tenacity and his will to live and fight despite it, convinced of his moral responsibility to persist and strive against the forces of darkness in the galaxy. Indeed, he had worked hard to overcome and outlive Kelborn's legacy from the day he had left Manda'yaim as a young man, long before he knew what a monster the man had been. But whatever scars he would accept, he had developed such compassion for Mirdala he almost couldn't bear to see her suffer in such a way. It didn't matter how he thought about it. It didn't matter that he knew how strong her will to cuyanir was. It didn't matter that he knew that she worried about him just as he worried about her. Nothing could make seeing her in pain any less excruciating save for the desperate hope that someday they might just be okay again, doing the best they could despite being forever diminished by the horrifying tragedy that had been willfully inflicted upon them by a dead man. When Verdeyuii joined them, Kandor wasn't sure if he was glad to see the other clone. He knew that Vy'ika could support Mirdala empathically, and having another perspective not nearly as mired in grief could help them work through things. But he also felt utterly unwilling open up and let Vy'ika in, like doing so would be an intrusion on a mourning process that he and his wife just needed to get through together. "I'll live," he said. He wanted to say more. He needed to know how Mirdala was coping, if her catharsis in the woods had helped her; he wanted to see if he could do anything more than he was. But the words just weren't coming.

Even as he worked through his own emotions in the way that he did, Kandor was determined to be there for his wife. "Like it or not, you're stuck with me, Mird'ika," he said, embracing her. After a moment he turned his head to look out the viewport at the dense Myrkr jungle, feeling a strong parallel to their last trip here, the echoes of their emotions at the time. He had just pulled her out of the slavers' den on Tatooine, starting to recover from the atrocious things Lura and the others had done to her body over a weeks-long ordeal. This time her trial had been much shorter but intensely psychological, and it seemed to him that the damage was greater. Let there never be a third that follows the trend, he thought. When they both were ready, he got up and told 2277 to keep an eye out for curious predators. The high metal content of the trees on Myrkr obfuscated sensor readings, so even before they started to hunt of ysalamiri it benefited them to set up a few perimeter sensors of the type he carried aboard the Justice for such situations. He was eager to go about the simple operational task to help get his mind off of everything else for a while, and he could accomplish it before Vy'ika and his sandhound Cinva arrived. The Omicron had stopped along the way to drop Orsai off on Kuat, so was perhaps a couple hours behind. As he walked he got the lay of the land, used it to scout and build a topographical map in his buy'ce computer. There was a grove with a number of ysalamiri not far away, and it would likely suit their needs, as they only needed a few. So far, they'd spooked the local wildlife and they hadn't crept back in yet to check them out, but he kept an eye out.

The last couple days had been slow. Kandor spent as much time with Mirdala as the hospital staff would allow, though much of it was spent in silence. At times he tried to contribute to some downtime tasks like working on decrypting and searching through the data they'd pulled from Viba's safehouse, but he wasn't very productive. About the best thing he was able to do was order a new droid body for 2277 and have it delivered to the Justice so that he could eventually repair the beskar'ad. It seemed that any sense of normalcy was but a fragile facsimile attempting to mask a very real pain that both demanded and deserved any attention that could be spared. Kandor was glad when Mirdala was finally released so that they could get out of this place, and he found the idea of Myrkr appropriate. Firstly it offered them a practical objective -- his ysalamiri count had depleted over the time since they'd last been there, at this point his last one all the way on Tatooine in the Temple of the Moon, and he wanted to have some available as the threat of Ab'ki loomed. The aggressive vornskrs there gave them the possibility of a manageable challenge to pit themselves against, and intellectually he knew that a fight could help lift them both out of their grief- and injury-induced torpor. But even beyond that, it was a place that they had gone after the hospital on Ryloth to recover from another set of deep scars, in those days just discovering for the first time how it would look for them to be more than hunt partners. At first he thought they didn't need Vy'ika, but even if he was just an extra hand he would be helpful, and another member of the aliit being there could help them both sort through things. He had already started to feel a little better just by wrapping his head around a task by the time they reached the Justice, informing Vy'ika that they were heading out. The hyperspace jump would be more than a day, and he wished it were shorter, but at least they would be together. Soon they were off.

In the hours that had passed, the Omicrons managed to dig out the recording from the files they'd stolen from Judyc and watched the conversations between Mirdala and her captor. It was both fascinating and harrowing to hear the true story of how Kandor had come about, to realize that in some ways he had a dead mother that he'd never met. But what stuck out more than the content of the stories, however, was Judyc's utter cruelty, the briefest moment where he looked as though there could be a noble man buried in his calloused heart completely erased by his sociopathic willingness to make Mirdala suffer both physically and emotionally. Nek's words only served to confirm what seemed inevitable. It all made Kandor more certain of the words he needed to say to his riduur now, even as he fought to retrain his composure in the face of her tears. "Cyar'ika," he said. "What Ab'ki has done is on Ab'ki's head. What Lura did is on Lura's head. What Viba has done is on his." He gripped her hand. "What was done cannot be undone, but this is not the end of us. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum." He would not allow that demagolka to win from beyond the grave.

TeVerd's admission succeeded in taking the edge off of Kandor's rage and guilt, a sign of how he had come to respect the Ageless in the last few months. Had it not always been his philosophy to accept the past in its immutability and instead look forward, rebuilding himself as necessary? He sat back down on the bench, forcing himself to glance ahead at the future he wanted. Mirdala was still alive, and that was the most important thing. They could still beat Ab'ki, and the data they'd stolen from Viba could considerably help that. He could still build his organization after it was all done. He was still Moon Knight, and he was a Mand'alor that finally belonged to an aliit... TeVerd was now his father-in-law, Vy'ika and several of the others his vode. It did not sate the pain of losing their son from the vision they'd shared, nor make the thought of these next weeks of recovery from the ordeal any more appetizing. But Mirdala needed him. She needed to know that she carried no blame for this, and she needed him to support her. He would not shy away from that responsibility... he would bring out the best in her, however that looked. Kandor removed his buy'ce. His face was still flushed but it was returning to its normal color. He looked calm, but his thousand-yard stare betrayed his numbness. He took another couple breaths before starting, and when he spoke, his voice was even. "Mirdala trained with Master Kirlocca for two weeks," he said. " A few days after he left, we decided to relocate from Corellia, and she went out for a quick supply run this morning. She didn't come back, and when I went looking for her Viba called. The shabuir is dead, but... he did a lot of damage. Mirdala said he was responsible for killing Jorbe and Cyare. He took from us the ade we might some day have raised. And all the while, he was my own dar'buir I had thought dead twenty years." He wiped his hand over his face. "That's all I know. Perhaps the recording will have more."