Mandalore

[Moon Knight]

By now it was late afternoon, and ShadowFett had spent most of the day tending to the organization of the new Mandalorian Protectors. There was already a job posting being offered, as a matter of fact, by an organization called Red Dawn. Fett could remember the Black Sun calling themselves that in the past and suspected they were doing so again, but he could attest that they would pay well and those credits could help rebuild the Sector.

 

MandalMotors had new designs that they wanted his opinion on; some of the clan command structure had needed reorganizing and new staff had needed to be brought into Ops for those that made the decision not to continue in the Protectors; word needed to start getting out about the fact that they were ready to start taking additional contracts.

 

But he had limited tolerance for administrative work, even back when he was CoreSec commissioner, and eventually he had retreated back to the hotel room and Mirdala for a little bit of solitude and light reading. She had spent most of the day in the room, not even wanting to come with him to what amounted to an R&D session with a bunch of fellow engineers despite her aptitude; she had once completely designed and prototyped a series of defense droids for CoreSec HQ, after all.

 

“Are you up for heading downstairs for some skraan?” he asked her.

 

“I don’t want another lecture from Nek, do I?” she remarked wryly as she put down the datapad she’d been reading. “Sorry,” she offered, apparently catching herself in her ennui. “A change of scenery would be nice.”

 

She crossed the room and gave him a hug. “I’m glad you’re back. We’ve been working through some calculations for enhancing our suit systems since we’ve got to do some major repair on yours.”

 

“That reminds me,” he said, returning the embrace and then steering them toward the door. “After all this, I think it’s high time we had another look at your kit, see if we can get you an additional edge.”

 

“I guess we’ll have to since I get the feeling that regular police-work isn’t exactly going to be in our future. If it wasn’t for your kit, I think that fight might have been over before it began.” She grew silent as the memory of the first few moments of their encounter with Ab’ki and Fieyr ran through her mind. Vi’ika nudged her with her snout and gave a soft whine, which brought her back to present circumstances.

 

“How did your meetings go? I’m sorry I didn’t feel up to going this morning,” Mirdala asked as they reached the bustle and low din of the tap caf.

 

All around them life was slowly returning to normal - old friends met, deals made, jobs found. The current noise level of the Oyu’baat was far more lively when compared to the days during the week-long war. Life went on, and Mirdala was still figuring out what that would mean for her.

 

“They’re mostly formalities,” he answered. “The Protectors can run themselves. But I think it helps to have one person make a few decisions and set some direction, and that falls to me.” He scanned the dining area. “Say, aren’t those the two Vevut dalase you met during the fighting? Want to say hello?”

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Mirdala gave him a look. Did she feel like being sociable? No, not really. Her feelings aside, she understood he was trying to help her. “Sure, but you’re coming with me. I don’t think you ever were properly introduced to them,” she teased looping her arm in his and bringing him with her.

 

Kandor in tow, she navigated the Oyu’baat floor and approached the trio of Vevuts and waited for a break in the conversation to re-introduce herself and Kandor. “Glad to see that you all made it through the fighting,” her eyes locked knowingly with Kalyani, even as Vi’ika nudged herway under the woman’s free hand.

[Mellanie Devanus Vevut]

Automatically, Kalyani’s hand moved to pat Vi’ika before she realised what she was doing. She was so used to patting her mother’s panther Rascal when he did the same thing. Her eyes met with Mirdala’s as she answered “Likewise.” Shifting her gaze to Mandalore she inclined her head, “Hello Sir.”

 

“Hello Mirdala, Mand’alor,” Mellanie said.

 

“Su’cuy,” he greeted them. “You can call me Fett. I believe I heard you two got here just in time for the fighting?”

 

Kaly glanced at her sister then back at Fett, “Yes we did. I’m Kalyani Wartide and this is my sister Mellanie Dev.. oops, I keep forgetting, sorry Sis, Vevut.” It would take a bit of getting used to using her sister’s married name.

 

Mellanie gave her a quick smile. “Don't worry. Yes, I'm Mellanie Vevut and this is my riduur Araac Vevut.”

 

Fett raised an eyebrow. He’d confirmed the name and now would see if she would confirm his theory from the first time he’d heard it. “Any chance you’re related to Ronin Wartide, Kalyani?”

 

Kalyani just managed to keep a straight face as she murmured, “Unfortunately. He’s my father, but please, don’t hold that against me.” Although she had her father’s black hair, she resembled her mother more with her features and grey eyes.

[Moon Knight]

He studied her for a moment. Ronin had fancied himself a pirate king and had been one of his enemies during his time with Black Sun. While he’d never dueled the man himself, he was well known as a scoundrel and they had found themselves on opposite sides of several conflicts due in part to Piccolo’s hatred for him. Hatred which for once seemed well-deserved. “We have a saying that begins gar taldin ni jaonyc -- it doesn’t matter who your father is. You stayed here and fought and that means more than whose blood is in your veins,” he said. A saying he identified heavily with, given what they had discovered about his own buir.

 

Kandor then turned his attention to Mellanie. If Kalyani was Ronin’s daughter, her mother was most likely Zara Nargal, hence Ronin’s long association with the Link. Mellanie wasn’t a Wartide but was Zara’s daughter as well if they were really sisters. Fett had once been hired to investigate the scandal between Nargal and Sabian Devanus, then a jetii long before becoming the first Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance, a fact which informed his other theory. “I suppose you were a Devanus before you were a Vevut,” he observed.

 

Mellanie grinned wryly. “Yes, Sabian is my father. I assume this means you know him, too?” It was mostly a rhetorical question; Fett’s statement implied it was so.

 

Fett actually had fought Sabian Devanus during one such scuffle between the Black Sun and the Link. It was a strange thing that these two had wandered onto Manda’yaim at such a time. “Next time you speak to your buir, tell him I apologize about the scar and that if he needs something from the Protectors he can have a discount.”

 

Mellanie raised her eyebrows. “Will do,” she replied, amused. She glanced at Mirdala and made a quick assumption. “So, how long have you two been married?”

 

Mirdala looked toward her husband, working over the timeline in her head, “Six...maybe seven weeks?” The petite woman shook her head. “It was shortly before we landed the intel that signaled full-scale war on the sector. Speak of that, were you two planning on staying on to help out? You’ve fought with us, even when leaving would have been the easier road,” she cast a meaningful look Mellanie’s way. “That’s mandokarla by anyone’s definition.”

 

Mellanie glanced at Araac. “I am,” she replied. “I'm committed. Got me a Mandalorian husband and a new family here; now there is nothing I'd rather do than protect it. And hey, if I can earn some credits while doing so, so much the better.”

 

“We are both interested in joining the Protectors, Mand’alor,” Araac clarified.

 

Mellanie looked at her sister. “What are you thinking, Kaly?”

[Kalyani Wartide]

Doesn’t matter who her father was… Kalyani was liking it here more and more. While on the KNMR, everyone knew who her father was and therefore were more wary of her. To be somewhere where that didn’t matter really was appealing to her. She was surprised when Fett mentioned Mel’s father and being the one to give him the scar. The way he spoke indicated a history with both their father’s and their mother.

 

She thought over everything Zara had told them with regards to who came after them and her eyes widened slightly as she couldn’t help but ask, “Were you with Black Sun?” She knew that Piccolo had gone after Zara, trying to kidnap her before the twins had been born as part of an extortion attempt as well as a dig against Ronin.

 

Kandor figured it worked both ways. “For a time,” he answered simply.

 

Kaly gave a single nod. It was all just water under the bridge. Her gaze shifted to Mirdala as she spoke, “Would I be accepted into the Protectors?” She surmised that her sister would be most likely to be accepted because she had married into the Vevut’s family. If there was a chance of being accepted without being judged for her parentage, she’d take it.

 

“You wouldn’t be the first outsider to serve the sector,” Mirdala replied. “Though, I wouldn’t expect that to last long if you did decide to stay. I’ve a cousin that came from outside the sector and she’s been of service to her community for years, though she’s with the Journeyman Protectors. They’re more the local police, judges, and enforcers.

 

“The Protectors,” she continued with a glance toward Kandor, “as they’re being founded, are meant to be more our forces for hire. Instead of going through the Mercenary Brotherhoods, or any of the other Merc organizations out there, we’re forming our own. Jobs you pick up are your own to choose.”

 

That sounded okay to Kalyani and she said so. The Link had been scaled right back to a few transport jobs and the resort. While she could have helped revive it, she got the feeling her Mother would prefer to keep it as a smaller organisation of which she could retire from, so that left Kaly wanting something more. This sounded like the answer.

 

Mellanie smiled. She was pleased that Kalyani would be sticking around. She turned back to Fett and Mirdala and lowered her voice. “I know it's Mandalorian culture to accept outsiders who wish to become Mandalorian, and that family is more than blood. But I wanted to thank you, as representatives of your--our--people, for ‘adopting’ us. This is the first time I’ve felt like I really belong anywhere. And I know that's hard for you knowing that we are Force-sensitive.” She said the last bit very softly. She wasn't ashamed of that part of her, although it was inconvenient, but she also didn't care to broadcast it to the whole tap caf.

 

Fett nodded. “We’re all who we make ourselves,” he said. After a pause he got up. “Nice talking to you both.”

[Moon Knight]

Meanwhile, above the surface, MandalMotors was hard at work. The Golan III platform, as well as the first of the new Keldabe-class cruisers, were completed.

 

Orders were to duplicate the order as soon as it was finished, so construction of another Golan III and cruiser were begun.

[Moon Knight]

Taking their leave from the Vevuts, Fett and Mirdala retreated to a table to themselves where they ordered some skraan. Kandor was glad to see that his wife wasn't shutting him out completely like had happened over Myrkr, and the social interaction with Mellanie and Kalyani seemed to have a positive effect as well, but she was far from normal. They talked a little about some of the things that were going on in the greater galaxy that he'd found out about while they ate some of the Oyu'baat's famous stew, then shortly after headed back up to their room.

 

"Things are starting to cool off around here," he told her as they entered. "I think I've given the Protectors the push they need." He eyed a small pile of beskar plates that had been stacked over by the collection of chest diamonds she'd received from the Seekers. The plates were some of TeVerd's, which had been split among his ade following the previous night's funeral. In Mandalorian culture, armor never went to waste, but was passed down through generations, often reshaped to fit the newest line of verde as they carried on the legacy of their ancestors. He knew Mirdala would carry on that tradition, but right now they were just one more thing here that was immersing her in her loss and grief with which she was still struggling to come to terms.

 

"What do you say we get away from the Sector for a bit?" he asked. "Resorts aren't usually my kind of place, but I think we could both use something low-key and someone gifted us a trip to one on Borleias." Honeymoons were a tradition that belonged to the aruetiise, but right now the concept seemed practical for a couple who'd spent the vast majority of their first month and a half of marriage suffering loss and injury at the hands of overwhelming darkness. It would be a chance to refocus and figure out what might lie ahead for them both.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

An active comlink transmission pings for Xae-Lin Ardel, bearing the transponder signature of the Traitor's Hope.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

"It's not cold is it?" she asked, kneeling down to stroke Vi’ika’s fur. “Not one of those cold-weather resorts that nutjobs like my brother, Vy’ika would enjoy?”

 

“Wouldn’t be much fun if it was,” he agreed. Of course, there were certainly parts of Borleias where it was winter at any given time, but Deren’s gift had decidedly advertised summer activities. “Should be nice and quiet. Borleias is coreward and I think what’s left of CoreSec still keeps the peace there.”

 

“‘Quiet’,” she echoed, moving toward the dresser where the armor lay. Her hand passed over the relatively smooth surface of TeVerd’s backplate. “I’m not really sure either of us knows what that looks like. But who would have gifted such a thing? I don’t think anyone on my side...oh…” she paused, her cheeks turning a bright pink. “You found it, didn’t you?”

 

He smiled a bit sheepishly. “Flirt did,” he admitted. “Whatever Deren’s intent, however, it may be what we need right now.”

 

“Not seeing the same variants of armor over and over again might be nice as well. A break from this,” she placed her other hand on the pile of chest diamonds, “It’ll be hard not to feel like I’m running again, but I think you’re right. We do need it.”

 

“For once there’s nothing to run from. This is for us to figure out what we’ll be now that we’re done running.”

 

She turned to face him then, confusion and perhaps a bit of a mischievous gleam in her eye. “And just what has Kandor Fett ever run from?”

 

He smirked. “The usual suspects are Peace and Quiet,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and meeting her eyes. “But that’s changed, too.”

 

“Mmm-mmm,” she intoned, not quite convinced in the slightest, but accepted it for the moment as she kissed him. Long bouts of peace and quiet wouldn’t sit well with either of them, but for now, it suited her just fine.

[Moon Knight]

Kandor held her at half an arms' length for another moment, savoring it. There was a spark of light back in her jade eyes. "We can leave as soon as we're packed and I let Ops know I'm headed out," he said. He kissed her again, then let her go and set about his task.

 

His beskar'gam still needed a lot of work, although Mirdala had started some of the simple things during her downtime spent here. Even if it was ready to be worn again, though, he would be in civilian dress on Borleias. Although he'd been becoming accustomed to being unmasked in public in recent months, he'd done so primarily within the Mandalore Sector. Going out among the aruetiise in such a fashion would enable him to remain low-key, something that was important if they were actually going to relax, but it still left him feeling a bit vulnerable. The fact that in all his adult life he'd never had the need to keep a low profile and blend in with civilians before Hapes was in many ways telling; this trip to Borleias was perhaps his first actual vacation in his life, as even on Hapes his face had been used as a disguise.

 

And he truly didn't mind the idea of taking it easy for a little while with Mirdala. He thought of it as an investment of time in both of their well-being before their inevitable return to work, however that might look.

 

In any case, he reviewed the state of his beskar'gam as he packed it in the custom padded equipment cases he used to transport it in the rare circumstances when he wasn't wearing it. The fractal-patterned scorch marks from Ab'ki's lightning were almost enough to make him consider repainting it, but it would cost the other scars and marks that he'd prefer to remember. Soon he moved onto the rest of his equipment and besbe'trayce, then finally what meager civilian clothes he owned and wasn't presently wearing. Flirt remained switched off, her salacious commentary presently unwanted.

 

When he'd finished, he placed his call. Ops asked him when he thought he might return, but he simply responded, "When you need me."

 

Finally the pair checked out of the Oyu'baat, made their way down to the Justice, and departed about three weeks after having arrived.

[Xae-Lin Ardel]

“Speaking of those Jedi ways,” Xae muttered (just loud enough for Tros to hear) as she heard her comm chirp for her attention. “Excuse me.”

 

Stepping away from the tense reunion, she moved further into the building and sought out a small closet to take the call from. “Hey, Jaina. How are things? Did you get Tirzah back?”

 

When the hologram finally materialized, Jaina looked obviously like a nerf caught in speeder halogen, as though she were unable to cogently form a thought for the space of several seconds. No, I--she’s--Tirzah’s gone. Another pause, eyes darting down and back up. I think Andon has her now. The strain and grief were evident even though the other Jedi’s voice seemed steady as could be. How are things on Mandalore? Did you find your brother?

“I’m so sorry, Jaina,” the other woman whispered, sending a wave of comfort to her friend through the Force even as she reached out to the shimmering holo before her. “They’ve just gone through what looks like a major war. I’m not too sure of the details, but I did find my brother...and...my father...” Xae sighed.

 

I saw the news holos about the sector. I’m glad you missed the fighting. If I’d have known you were going into a war zone, I probably would have either stopped you from going or sent a lot more backup with you, Jaina added apologetically. As it is, we might need you coreward sooner than I’d expected. I don’t want to preempt your time with your family… Obviously unsure as to whether or not such a reunion was, in fact, desired, Jaina’s sentence hung in the air, begging for completion.

 

“It’s fine,” Xae-lin assured her. “I think it meant more to them. I’m not really sure I get this whole Mandalorian thing, but I don’t think it’s less important to them than being part of the Jedi Order is for me. Tros is out of the woods from his injuries. Frond seems to be glad to be planetside again. What’s up?”

In a word, Faust, Jaina murmured, as though concealing the thought from any eavesdroppers, though the very act seemed paranoid at best. The Imperial fleet just arrived over Coruscant, Darex has assembled a Jedi fleet, Skye is trying to get to the bottom of the incident at the Memorial, and the Sith are going on the offensive. There was a strike on Kashyyyk. The dread plastered all over her face left no room for doubt that Jaina was drawing a connection between the Sith attack and the presence of the Jedi for the funeral of the fallen Wookiee Master. We’re going to need all available personnel on hand for whatever he tries next.

“Stang, leave for a few minutes and the whole galaxy goes to Hell,” Xae swore, leaning her hand against the shelving unit. “He had some sort of construct of himself on Onderon, interrupted the talks, and made an attempt on the Dark Lord’s life during the negotiations.” She closed her eyes and pursed her lips as the memory served to remind her of another promise she’d made. “I just remembered I was supposed to meet with their police chief, Tenbree...Tensbriss...Tene...or something like that.” She shrugged, knocking over a broom handle, quickly using the Force to keep it from clattering to the ground and setting it upright again.

“I can’t remember his name. Debrief on my involvement on Onderon,” she explained, taking a moment to ensure the broom wasn’t going to succumb to gravity again.

“Still can’t believe that Vos pulled out at the last minute, but I guess it can be daunting staring down that many Sith vessels considering his past dealings with them,” Xae grumbled, her shoulders falling once more with the weight of everything.

 

A few moments of silence passed between the two women before Xae spoke up again. “I can’t believe they hit Kashyyyk. Wasn’t taking Kirlocca from us enough?” The auburn-haired woman shook her head. “I guess I could always reach out to Emily and see what she might know of the Sith movements. I doubt Master Quietus would be so forthcoming...” the Exorcist pondered further, her brow furrowing. “Wait, you were there a while before the funeral, with Misal Drago, right? Any ideas what reasons the Sith might have for attacking the Wookiees outside of wanting to conscript an unpaid labor force?”

 

Jaina shook her head, but there was steel in her eyes. Not yet, no, other than forcing another lost ally for the Alliance. I doubt they’d have much interest in what Misal and I were doing. In any case, I’ll find out about Kashyyyk, I have Emily on board with me, and I need to talk to Raynuk anyways about--other things. Her eyes narrowed suddenly as if Xae’s earlier words had finally clicked. Wait, Tenebris? Tenebris E’lann? You were on Onderon with the Supreme Commander of the GA? I have a feeling Master Trevelian is going to want to hear about this.

“YES! Tenebris! That was his name. Uhhh...Supreme Commander of the GA? He was just head of CoreSec when I crossed paths with him on Onderon.” She shrugged figuring it might be better to give Jaina a bit more information on the developments on Onderon. “I’d be happy to debrief with the Grandmaster prior to speaking with Tenebris. Short version once I was planetside - Faust fired on the Dark Lord of the Sith and I might have stepped between them considering we were all meeting under terms of talking things out. We both know how Faust likes rules…”

You didn’t. It wasn’t a question, nor did it contain any ounce of surprise. You know, between you and I, we’re probably half the reason the Jedi have a reputation for getting into trouble and sticking our noses where they don’t belong… Amusement played behind a self-deprecating smirk. Though it is nice to know that Faust has no love for the current iteration of what passes for Sith. I admit to having been rather disappointed by them lately. Maybe the Hunter has become a bit of a lone wolf. In any case, hightail it back here. I have a feeling we’re about to need all the help we can get.

 

“Will do. It’s somewhat uncomfortable for me to hide who I am around here and Mandos aren’t known for being the most tolerant of our kind. I’ll ping you once I’m en route. And Jaina,” Xae raised her hand to the hologram as though reaching for her friend. “Don’t run. Not from your feelings. They’ll eat you alive if you keep shoving them down. You once told me you were tired of running. Keep your promises to yourself. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. We’ll be together soon hopefully and I can give you a hug in person. May the Force be with you, my sister.”

[Darex Trevelian]

A heavily encrypted comm arrives for Xae-Lin.

 

 

Knight Ardel,

 

I just received a message that Armiena Draygo has been found. She's being held captive on Iridonia by a biotech company called CreoVive. It's time to liberate her. Please join me in the Iridonia system as quickly as you can; they are planning on moving her to Sullust in the next few hours or days.

 

-Grandmaster Trevelian

 

A few pieces of information were attached to the message, including the projected course of the transfer, likely coordinates of the facility from where she was likely being held, and its escort of eight Z-95 Headhunters.

 

[saberforce]

Tros ignored Xae as she turned her own attention to her comm, which he figured was about some jetii related thing. As he continued to put his own beskar'gam back on, Bas'lan walks dup closer and point blank asked him a few questions.

 

"Where will you go? You're still not recovered enough to return fully to your line of work..."

 

"I don't need your concern. The Red Dawn Initiative has some contracts out. I plan to do some work for them until I am well enough to actually do beroya stuff again. Until then, I will take your words and Xae's and store them until I actually need them. For now, I need the credits and movement."

 

Tros finally put his own buy'ce over his head and walked over to the door and stopped just short of opening it.

 

"Xae, take care of yourself. You can get my personal comm frequency from Bas'lan. Bas'lan... Keep your head up. Frond... You don't talk very much. I like you. You are always welcome to travel with me if you want."

 

Tros then opened the door and used the comm within his buy'ce to let the Red Dawn Initiative know that he was looking for anything that would pay well and then asked for a meeting place. He did all of this as he walked towards MandalMotors to look and pick up this ship that Bas'lan had got for him.

[The Black Sun Armada]

A meeting place was sent via hard encryption to Tros's helmet

 

-Tatooine-

-Wayfarer's Rest Casino-

-Suite 32A-

-Ask for Carmen Sandiego-

 

The encrypted comm ended.

[saberforce]

Tros found himself now looking at a BR-9 Charger, Pursuer-class frigate that was made by MandalMotors. The order was put in by Bas'lan to be given to Tros for his troubles of his life without having a buir. After he was informed that it was fully paid for a anonymous donor, he found himself walking through the ship, allowing himself to fully experience what his new ship would hold. The cargo hold, which would be great for holding weapons and any bounties that would be needed. Finally, he came to the bridge, sitting down in the pilots chair, he began to warm to engine up and prime it. As he was pulling away from the shipyard, he sent the first official name of his ship. Swift Justice. He then programed the coordinates to have him go to Tatooine, where he would meet the Red Dawn for a contract...

[Moon Knight]

On schedule, the second Keldabe-class battleship rolled off the dry dock far above MandalMotors HQ. The launch was simultaneous with the commissioning of a second Golan III platform to join the first.

 

New projects were undertaken. Across the Kelita river from Keldabe, construction began on a planetary turbolaser, a massive weapon capable of destroying capital ships with a single barrage. Downriver from the city, part of the Kelita was to be redirected for a short stretch to help cool the weapon should it ever need to fire. Above, MandalMotors took the information they'd gained by studying and refitting the Lancer frigate that had been in the invasion force and started to create a second one.

[Moon Knight]

The first MandalMotors-built Lancer frigate, the Mythosaur, left its space dock and joined the rest of the fleet over Manda'yaim. For their next challenge, they set about attempting to recreate the Corona-class frigate, of which they already had two.

 

The work on the planetary turbolaser continued. Project managers estimated it was about two-thirds of the way complete.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

As the Justice re-entered the Mandalore System from hyperspace, Mirdala emerged from the back of the ship and joined her husband in the cockpit as he reconfigured their trajectory to land them in Keldabe.

 

“Vy’ika said that he and Rhys would be meeting us at the Oyu’baat with Vi’ika. Apparently, she’s been giving him fits,” she remarked as she looked back at Kandor, the soul-weariness not quite having lifted. For most of the last few hours, she'd been in other parts of the ship going over ship's stocks and systems since it'd been a bit since they'd resupplied between their more recent trips.

 

For the minutes it took the ship to travel the distance to the planet below, Mirdala closed her eyes as she reached out to reassure her empathically bonded hunt-partner that she was okay or was at least still healing. Making progress, at least, she mused.

 

There was still the vast unknown that lay before her now that Ab’ki’s threat against her family and her home had been neutralized. As much as that unsettled her as she looked out over the assembled Mandalorian fleet, all it took was a sideways glance to her left to know that things would find their way.

 

The Tra’kad-class vessel set down on the dusty surface of the rebuilding Keldabe spaceport with its usual clunk-hiss as the struts made contact with the planet’s surface. The Mandalorian people had come a long way in the two weeks that Kandor and Mirdala had been off-world, a testament to the resilience and (as some would argue) inherent stubbornness of their people.

 

Rising from her seat, she reached over and carefully undid the seal on his buy’ce and sat it on the seat that she’d just vacated. Before he could rise to join her, Mirdala took advantage of the fact he wouldn’t have to bend down to meet her lips and kissed him deeply. Drawing back after several moments, she rested her forehead on his just grateful that the war hadn’t claimed his life as it had so many others. “We’ll figure all of this out at some point. I’m just glad you’re with me while I do. It makes it...easier somehow. Even though you don’t always understand, you try and I thank you for that.” Her lips brushed his again briefly and she grabbed her own helmet and tucked it under her arm.

 

“Now let’s go see find out how the rest of the family is faring.”

[Moon Knight]

The Mandalorian Protectors Fleet floated over Manda'yaim in silent vigil against existential threats yet to materialize, and ShadowFett never thought it would happen while he was Mand'alor. Ordo and Ahzinger had mobilized ships in the late days of the war in which he and Mirdala had ultimately served the New Republic, but the end of that conflict and the placing of the mantle upon Fett's shoulders had heralded an end to that sort of warmongering and mass mobilization of the clans against the aruetiise. Humbly they'd returned to their homes and began the work of rebuilding, and no fleet had been required for the task.

 

Times changed. Now four heavy cruisers, half a dozen lighter ones and frigates, and a handful of support craft crowded the airspace over Mandalore's sparse population centers. Down below, MandalMotors was christening their latest construction -- a Planetary Turbolaser just downriver from Keldabe upon the Kelita. An enormous weapon that could tear the heart out of a Star Destroyer in a single volley, it promised that anyone who brought the fight here would pay dearly for their audacity.

 

But apart from the deeply-buried knowledge that he was doing everything he could to help his people endure, Kandor's attention as the ship set down was not upon any of these things: it had been stolen entirely by his wife, their beskar plates scraping gently together as she parted from his embrace. "There's hope for us yet," he said after her as he climbed out of the pilot's chair. Pain and loss had been the hallmarks of the last two months, but they were good at surviving.

 

Buy'cese back on, they walked down the street to the Oyu'baat and surveyed how far the rebuilding efforts had come. There was still a lot of work to do, but the hearty Mando'ade had been through worse and already Keldabe was beginning to look like its old self again -- a crowded labyrinth of streets with steadfast buildings piled on either side, some of which had stood for centuries like the ancient tapcafe that was their destination.

 

Before they even reached the Oyu'baat's front doors, the familiar black shape of Vi'ika materialized in the doorway as the sand hound hurried out to greet her hunt partner. A moment behind her trailed Verdeyuii to look out at them from the doorway, his stark white hound Cinva at his heels. "Su'cuy gar Vi'ika, Vy'ika," Fett greeted them in turn. "Things going okay around here?"

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Mirdala removed her helmet and knelt down to meet Vi’ika as the massive black furred sandhound trotted out to meet her. She could feel all three of them probing her - Rhys, Vy’ika, and Vi’ika - through their shared empathic bond. The hound licked her face happily, as glad to be reunited with Mirdala as the Mandalorian woman was to have her other hunt-partner back.

 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t take you.” Mirdala pulled Vi’ika’s head close to hers and rested her forehead there for a moment before she rose to her feet. “Hopefully you didn’t give them too much trouble.”

 

“Only the headaches, Vod’ika.” Vy’ika accented the remark by holding his hand to his forehead. “Haven’t you two learned how to take a break and keep a low profile yet? Doesn’t usually involve shooting up places. You should try it some time.”

 

“That’s not fair and you know it, Vy’ika,” Mirdala cut back as she rose and faced her older brother, crossing her arms across her chest as the other familiar face stepped out from the interior of the tapcaf. “Hey, Rhys.”

 

“Hey,” Vy’ika countered. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

 

“You’ve met Kandor, right?” She raised her eyebrow at him.

 

“Not even together a minute and already you two have started in on each other,” Rhys lamented, though with a smile on his face. “Come on in and we can fill you in over some skraan.”

 

Fett moved into the Oyu’baat, clapping Vy’ika on the shoulder. “Remember Iridonia? These last guys on Borleias deserved it just as much.”

 

The Omicron laughed and returned the gesture, and Mirdala could tell from the way he glanced over his shoulder at her and Vi’ika that he was remembering how she’d damn near single-handedly handled the patronage of some dive when one of them had gotten too handsy with her. “I think we’d worry more if there wasn’t something exploding or getting shot at in your wake, vod. Didn’t manage to get yourself exiled from this one did you?”

 

“It’ll have to wait until next time we’re there,” he retorted as they found a table.

 

Mirdala rolled her eyes. “We only get exiled from the places we don’t have any inclination to ever return to. I’m still working on Tatooine, but due to lack of cohesive government...and other factors...I seriously doubt I’ll ever get that wish.” She looked up at Kandor, apologetically for a moment, not having meant to nearly reveal the planet where the powers of Moon Knight resided. He looked thoroughly unconcerned at the near slip.

 

“The Clade’s arrangement with TeVerd hasn’t ended just because he’s passed,” Rhys countered, misinterpreting what he’d sensed within their empathic bond. “It’s up to you if you want to walk that road, but I do worry about you spreading yourself too thin.”

 

Mirdala shrugged and sat back as their food found its way to the table. “I’m fine or at least getting there. I’m glad that Kandor convinced me it was a good idea to take a break away from the sector for a bit.”

 

Vy’ika snorted, “You shouldn’t need reminding or convincing.”

 

“And just what is that supposed to mean, Verdeyuii?” Mirdala asked cooly, putting down her fork and resting her chin in her hand. There was no mistaking the narrowing of her eyes. Beside her, Rhys settled back and exchanged glances with Kandor, who crossed his arms.

 

“Nothing. Simply what I said,” he shrugged.

 

Mirdala could feel him at the edges of her consciousness, probing her empathically. “You do realize that one of the main reasons I’m not a broken mess right now is because he’s been there to help me through all of this osik, right? Get protective all you want Verdeyuii. I’m a grown woman and an Mando’ad at that. I don’t have to answer to you.”

 

Vy’ika’s dark eyes shifted from her to Kandor.

 

“I’d listen to her, vod,” Fett said flatly. “Not a battle worth fighting.”

 

Vy’ika said nothing, but drained his glass and left the table without further retort, Cinva on his heels.

 

Mirdala rose, but Rhys placed a hand on her shoulder as the white sandhound disappeared around the corner. “Let him go.”

 

Mirdala shook her head. “He’s not taking things well, is he? I mean sure he usually needles, but he seemed to genuinely be wanting a fight.”

 

Rhys sighed. “Not really. I don’t think he expected you to be as even keel after buir died. Not that it’s a bad thing, Mird’ika.” He cast a grateful glance Kandor’s way. “He’s lost and hasn’t really handled loss all that well since his wife passed. And you know what TeVerd meant to him. He just needs time.”

 

Mirdala nodded, opting to change the subject. “So how have things been in the sector? The city seems to be on the road to recovery.”

[Moon Knight]

For the remainder of the meal Rhys caught them up on the events of the past two weeks. No one had batted an eye when Mand'alor had left, the battle fought, and the command team that had assembled for the battle had remained partially intact and rearranged to serve the Protectors. The fleet and planetary defenses had assembled rapidly with the influx of credits going to MandalMotors. Concord Dawn had taken a worse beating than Manda'yaim and everyone still had their hands full getting their lives and cities back together, but in time they would recover. The surviving Omicrons were starting to break up and return to their families, the Shadow War they'd been fighting resolved.

 

"Any thoughts what you two are up to next?" Rhys asked when he'd finished.

 

“Depends on if we can validate a bounty,” Fett answered.

 

”About that, Master,” 2277’s voice chimed in over his implant since he’d removed his buy’ce to eat. He tilted his head to indicate to Rhys that he was receiving a transmission. ”It took a little bit of doing, but it appears that the bounty on Darth Quietus is in fact fully vested. However, I am unable to validate the source.”

 

Kandor put his attention back on the Omicron. Honestly he was a bit surprised at the result, given the enormous sum involved. If Quietus were any less dangerous he would have trouble going anywhere near a civilized planet. And he didn’t particularly care who was paying in this case as long as the credits were, in fact, real. “Validation passed,” he said.

 

“Taking a contract as a beroya?” Rhys asked.

 

Mirdala tilted her head slightly from side to side, “Something like that.”

 

Rhys turned his attention to her. “I find that answer vague and unconvincing, but it's your choice.”

 

“Technically it could also be construed as Seeker work,” she admitted.

 

“A Sith then.”

 

Fett nodded. “One of the big ones. Might have a lead.”

 

“I'm good with this, Rhys,” Mirdala insisted. “Ori’haat.”

 

Rhys seemed to accept the statement. He knew the history with what had happened before when Fett had pushed her into pursuing Ar-Pharazon and others too soon after her ordeal at the hands of the Thalassian slavers. But Fett knew he could also tell as well as he could that she was hale and prepared to move forward.

 

Mand’alor rose. “Going to drop in on Ops. Otherwise don’t think we need to stay long.”

 

Mirdala opted to remain and finish catching up with her brother while he headed upstairs. There was Protector leadership in the command center pretty much around the clock, and the alor’ad currently in charge greeted Fett and started answering his questions. Specifically Fett was after hard numbers on how many Mando’ade had filled the ranks of the new organization, details on the fleet and planetary defenses, and some idea about the capabilities of the planetary turbolaser that was nearly the size of MandalMotors tower.

 

Once his curiosity was satisfied, he turned to leave but found the doorway blocked by a beskar-plated war droid in scarred armor and bristling with overt weaponry. “Mand’alor, sir!” it said in an exaggerated ultra-male voice. “I am yours to command. I request that I be allowed to accompany you offworld if I cannot serve you directly here.”

 

Fett appraised the beskar’ad from behind his visor. “MAD-01, wasn’t it?” he addressed it. It had been a gift from Ahzinger, presenting itself to him just before the fighting had started. Though it was an extraordinarily capable soldier, he nonetheless had very little desire for it to accompany him into battle as Mirdala did. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think of some way to put it to work if he needed to deploy an additional overt resource. With a personality matrix reprogramming, maybe it could even serve in other capacities. “Very well. Come with me back to my ship.”

 

He started to head back downstairs, giving Mirdala a heads-up through their private link that he had a bit of unexpected company.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Rhys had already left for the spaceport and to head home to his own family having fulfilled his elder brother responsibility to ensure that she was doing as okay as she claimed. There was something of an adjustment to be had when across the galaxy a family that had been fighting a shadow war for a good deal of their lives suddenly found themselves without that enemy. That wasn't to say that things were entirely safe, for various reasons they'd remain hidden and living much as they had been, accepting work across the worlds and leading their own lives. It was time for Mirdala to find her own footing and do the same.

 

Mirdala raised her eyebrow at the droid as it approached with Kandor. "Taking in strays?" She rose and circled the droid, finally taking the time to get a close look at its makeup and buildout. "Could be useful enough I guess. We really do need to find you some friends other than droids though," she teased, as she donned her helmet and nodded her head toward the door. "Think we can head out of here? Anything that we need to attend to from ops?"

[Moon Knight]

'Beskar'ade are a lot less work and never just want to socialize," Kandor answered dryly. "Ops is more than self-sufficient. Let's ditch this backwater."

 

Saying their farewells to Rhys, the Mando'ade couple headed back out the way they came, MAD-01 following behind them and keeping its silence at Fett's bidding. A few minutes later they were back at the Justice and blasted off for parts unknown.

[Moon Knight]

The first MandalMotors-built Corona-class frigate left the space dock and they decided to build one more of their new Keldabe-class MK 2 battleships.

[Solus Nau'ur]

Alone. In the woods. In quiet. Whether in the stealth of the hunt or the speed of the run, this was the space he needed to think. Between household duties and the call of commerce or duty, there was the call of the wild. The woods were a friend to the friendless, a welcomer of strangers and the estranged, and a fertile space for passive or active meditation. The intense focus of pursuit, of tracking wild Shatual, where all scents and sounds told a story. Or a space where the mind of soldier, hunter, and all those other modes of being could simply dissolve. Thoughts could come or go, drifting in and out like clouds in a sky of infinite possibility. Unless there was a storm. LIke today. Like now.

 

Even the gentle quiet of wild places wasn’t enough space for the raging war inside of Solus at this moment.

 

 

The vanquishing of the Sith invaders had torn Solus to the core of his being.

 

The purge of the presence of evil was his goal. Decimate the would-be destroyers of our homeland, of everything we are and stand for, bringing their dark magic to our turf… Our sacred space, Solus thought to himself. But the attempted destruction of evil had shown him something far more terrifying… Evil wasn’t outside of him or his countrymen. Each target he destroyed was viewed as a predatory animal, only to find in himself the predatory instinct alive and well. He hated what he saw, and he feared that how he was being was of the darkest and most sinister corners in the universe. He sensed his malice. His anger. His hate. His own suffering. And in attempting to clean up the evil he saw on the outside, it only compounded the presence of darkness within.

 

 

“I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!!”

 

He hadn’t said the words aloud before, but they erupted out of his mouth like a volcano. Good thing he was standing alone, surrounded by the trees and wildlife that were his closest friends. A Mandalorian who can’t kriffing do it? ARE YOU INSANE?? he thought to himself. But that was it. The decision was made. I refuse to kill.

 

It wasn’t the slaughter of well-deserving thugs, no, it was the sense that the evil they sought to wipe out lived on. And it lived through me in that moment. I’m no Sith, but in that moment, we were more alike than different. Maybe nothing different could have been done. Love and hate. Light and dark. Equal and opposite reactions. Doomed to continue in gridlock for forever. Maybe this is how the Force works...

 

The Force.

Those words stopped him in his tracks. He reawakened to the present moment, to his external environment, to the rough, jagged, technical single-track that was used by combat trainees just months ago. He took a deep breath, felt his heart pulsing in his chest, and started to run again.

 

The Force.

He couldn’t remember the first time he heard that term, but it stuck. He had always felt a pull he couldn’t explain, a draw inward that was somehow outward at the same time. For most of his young life, Solus just thought it was because he was a loner. Not the most incredible athlete or warrior with a notable skill above all others in any one category, save for his observation (when he wanted, he could turn inward just as well). The most perceptive and intuitive, the most withdrawn. He knew now there was something more.

 

An energy, and he was sensitive to it and susceptible to it somehow. He had premonitions, gut feelings, specific pictures and imaginings that would come true to the detail. While he was no gifted speaker, he had an unconscious knack for persuasion. And he just had… feelings. About spaces. Feelings that were not merely tactical but not easily described. He was beginning to wonder what else was here… in the Force… or whatever you call it.

 

Osik.

Realization dawned. Memories began to flood back to him as, like a Shatual, he jumped from rock to rock and sped up switchbacks with a lightness of body and a growing lightness of being within.

 

He had always been different from the others. The observer more than the warrior. He could hold his own in combat at a distance or hand-to-hand, but he was never the strongest, the fastest, the best. In hunting (animals) and foraging, he something sacred, a divine and mysterious transaction. A cosmic dance. A circle of life, not a linear continuation of our people and our culture, but a part of something much bigger. He couldn’t put his finger on it and he spent no time or effort attempting to communicate with words. Mandos were extremely distrustful of force-users, and whatever Solus felt and sensed, it was obviously not a welcome part of the day-to-day conversation. Not safe to share with his family, his peers, and certainly not his ranking officers.

 

 

 

Osik.

This was not going to go over well.

 

A Mandalorian Warrior who refused to take life and who believed in the Force.

 

He had no idea what the next steps were in his life, what the cost would be, and where this would lead. All he could do was put one foot in front of the other and continue running as best he knew how.

 

As daylight waned, clarity dawned.

 

He sped downhill with a renewed sense of calm, even at the brisk pace. He didn’t just run, he flew. Yes there was darkness, but the light was growing and expanding within. Yes, there would be choices, but it didn’t matter. They would be made when the time came.

 

Running out of the woods and into a clearing, he turned to finish his run back home at a full sprint.

 

Then he saw his family out in the field bringing in the equipment from the day’s harvest.

 

 

Osik, I’m screwed.

 

And it’s only Tuesday.

[Mellanie Devanus Vevut]

Three weeks later

 

Mellanie Vevut stood at the stove, frowning at the pot of skraan simmering away on it. It was an unattractive pasty white color with chunks of brown. The stove was stained and encrusted with food particles from where the dish had boiled over, and one plasteel spoon looked definitely partially melted on the edges. Biting her lip, she reached up to a high shelf and pulled off a tin of spices. Shrugging, she sprinkled the dish liberally with the spices, then covered it and turned off the heat.

 

Belatedly, she remembered the bread. Opening the oven door, she was alarmed to see that the bread had risen so high that it had flattened to the top of the oven. But at least it was golden brown on the outside. She pulled it out. Well, golden brown all around except the top, which was a doughy mess. She sighed.

 

Just then, she heard Araac's speeder pull up outside. She grimaced. He had been a good sport about eating her attempts at decent skraan, but this was a new low. Despite the fact that it wasn't the food's fault, she ended up slamming it down on the table with a little too much vigor, causing some to slop over the side of the pan. Her temper frayed, Araac entered the house to see her carving up the bread with righteous vigor, viciously tossing out underdone bits.

 

"Um, bad day?" he asked.

 

She didn't look at him. "Shabla skraan," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

 

Araac grinned. "That's my wife: able to kill a Sith in combat, but utterly defeated by an Iridonian curry recipe."

 

For a moment, she was torn between anger and amusement, then the latter won out and her face broke into a sheepish smile. "You laugh now, but you might not be laughing later when you're hungry because this mess was inedible," she returned.

 

He came up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "I'm sure it'll be fine." Then he lifted the lid off the pot and made a face. "Well, I'm sure it tastes better than it looks."

 

"Ever the optimist," she smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, riduur."

 

He winked at her. "I'm sure I've eaten worse. Come on, let's eat while it's at least still warm and I can tell you all about the new contract I saw posted today."

 

Mel's ears perked up at that. Once they were seated and eating--it really didn't taste all that bad once you got over the chewiness--Araac filled her in on the contract he suggested they take. "We can go about it from a non-traditional standpoint," he finished. "I don't think it's wise to take him head-on."

 

Mel nodded. "He's got to have a weakness; all beings do. We can start there."

 

"Good. So we leave tomorrow?"

 

She grinned. "Oya."

[Moon Knight]

It was a little late, but the final Keldabe-class battleship was released from the dry dock. The Mandalorian Sector Defense Fleet had reached its maximum sustainable size with the resources and soldiers that were available to maintain and crew the formidable vessels.

 

Perhaps someday soon they would be called into action. But for now they waited for the invader bold enough to challenge again Mandalorian space as Ab'ki had.

[Frond]

Having parted ways with his Jedi/Mandalorian companions, Frond found himself alone on a new world, Mandalore; a world he had not had the privilege of visiting in his millennia of life. Still, here there was a difference from the peaceful life-filled world of Kashyyyk that he had come to call home and this one. Here, he could feel the eons of violence, hatred, and bloodshed mingled with the undercurrents of brotherhood, family, and survival. ”Yes. Will I. Meditate. Stay.” he spoke to none but the empty air of the world as he walked a lone acolyte against the backdrop of the windswept plains. Eventually Frond came to a point where the earth felt right, not too dry, and not to leeched, against his feet. With the winds swirly gently around him, the shape shifting plant morphed, a swirl of yellow energy crackling about him as in an instant he went from an average sized humanoid figure carved of wood into a 30 foot colossus his thick bark and black leaves rustling in the fading sunlight.

 

 

”Beyond shadow. Truth. Home” Frond smiled to himself as his body entered into the realm beyond the physical world. A realm composed of and controlled completely by the flowing nature of The Force. Here, he was but the shadow of his physical self; his true self, his innermost being enveloped in a force-based physical form beyond the realms of the mortal worlds; beyond the falsehoods of so many. Here time meant nothing; Frond could wander for years in an instant and contemplate for seconds in a century. As long as his physical body was nourished by a combination of The Force and the sunlight and soil of Mandalore the tree-like being was anchored to the physical world, his mind free to wander beyond the shadows of deception.

 

Frond smiled to himself as he looked about. This was where he had been the last time he had journeyed beyond shadows; just another tree standing in the complete stillness just outside a yawning cavern entrance carved in the stone that rolled so naturally and peacefully from the damp grounds around them. Even here, Frond could alter his appearance, as if in the physical realm, from tree to humanoid form. The crackling yellow energy was all that disturbed the otherwise perfectly silent landscape as the large aged tree morphed into a man-shaped wooden figure.

 

In the distance, Frond could see another solitary soul, one of his fellow Mind Walkers, traversing the lands, soaking in the will of The Force. Do not. Would not. Bother. Frond thought as he shook his head and turned to enter the nearby grotto. Within the cool damp grotto, Frond did not walk in shadows, instead the entire area was bathed as if in a full blast of shimmering silvery moonlight, even though there was no moon to be seen above. Seated in the furthest back corners of the palely lit cave was a dark and still pool, its edges nigh even with the moss covered stones surrounding it. The pool uninspiring as it would appear hummed silently with the strength of The Force. Even while bathed in the cool silvery light it remained an inky black, drawing the light within ne’er to be seen again. ”Pool of Knowledge. Yesss.” he sighed as the mighty tree-man shuffled towards it, leaving the moss undisturbed in his passing. Pausing at the water’s edge, the Neti looked down. He had spent countless eons here, in this very spot, gazing into the pool and learning of the past, present and futures that The Force held intent on bringing into being within the physical mortal galaxy.

 

The eerily peaceful tranquility was more familiar to Frond than even the plant-filled world of his adopted home, Kashyyyk, was to him. Here, the Neti felt comfortable and at home. Bathed in the presence of truth with no need to seek and discern lies and deceptions. No, all he had to do was simply be.

 

Standing, Frond stared down intently into the blackened pool. To any onlooker it would appear that the plant-based sentient was simply staring off, unmoving as most plants tend to do; possibly contemplating the water below. To Frond, however, he was seeing, truly seeing.

 

And what Frond saw was anything but peaceful………

 

 

Pain. Anger. Fear. Lust. Rage. Death. The words passed through Frond’s minds as he felt the emotional toils of each darkness wash over him as he stood staring into the pool before him. Flame. Destruction. Chaos. FEAR. The emotions swept over him as the pool revealed to him a familiar site: Kashyyyk. It had to be. His adopted home world was in peril. Before him unnatural beings rose up from the ground. His brethren, the soaring wroshyr trees were scarred and their lesser brethren trampled underfoot, destroyed, no, desecrated by an invading force led by beings tainted with the Dark Side. The Wookiees fought and died or fled in fear only to fall prey to the slaver’s net or searing death. The guardians of the trees for millennia torn asunder like rag dolls at the hands of their oppressors. He could feel it. Every blow to his adopted home landed with a sting to his soul. The destruction was wanton, driven by desires of power, born from a place of evil and shadow. This was not the way of the True Force. This was The Force bent to the will of a mere being of shadows and deceit.

 

For as long or as short as Frond stood rooted in his spot unmoving, his soul agonized by the destruction that was, is or would be wrought on his beloved home, he was finally flickered away from the disturbing images cast from the pool into his mind. With a blink, Frond no longer felt the overwhelming despair and desire for destruction enveloped in the thickness of the dark side. No, instead, Frond found himself surrounded by an entirely different array of brotherly flora. Yes, he could feel the dark side here as well; but it was different. Here it was contained in as much as the life around it refused to be completely consumed by it. Manipulated? Yes. Consumed? Never! The Force was here and it flowed much like it seemed to even Beyond Shadows. But there was more. As Frond’s mind made its way through the dense foliage he became aware of many more. Countless being, similar to those who he had just witnessed tearing his beloved home asunder, but these instead sought some form of oneness with the world around them. They sought to preserve, protect, and learn from it; to embrace The Force. Peace. Hope. Tranquility. As his mind soared through the lands, he found himself at the apex overlooking a canyon. Next to him was a single hatch, which led deep within the land itself, through inky darkness and out into the bright light of what could only be a temple of ”the Je’daii”, Frond whispered aloud, realization flooding his mind with what he was seeing.

 

The tree-like being stood for a few more moments as the site led him about to where he saw students and teachers moving about. The peace of it all was nearly overwhelming. As he stood, an invisible eye, watching from beyond time itself, Frond saw a small gaggle of what could only be the youngest of youngling wander by. He could not hear what they were saying, but they were clearly talking and amongst the giggles of delight he heard one word, ”Felucia” and with that, the children walked on out of site.

 

Frond stood within the hallowed halls for who knew how long. People came and went. Anger, sadness, joy, love, loss, and many other emotions could be felt within; but most of all, Frond could feel the peace that was the temple and it spoke to him on a deep enough level that words could not describe. As he stood basking in the peace something changed. Suddenly where there had been joy there was fear; the warm glow of the temple replaced by the sounds of marching feet and monstrous forms. In an instant the tranquility had been punctured and the cries of battle could be heard as blaster fire and lightsaber mingled with cries of pain and the howls of animals. And suddenly, in an instant, Frond was back on Kashyyyk.

 

 

With a cry of anguish, Frond wrenched his gaze from the pool and found he was once again standing in the dank grotto Beyond Shadows. Even in the brief time that he had been away, the sage Mind Walker had forgotten the intensity of which images within the pool were capable of bringing to bear. When one was at one with The Force there was nothing that The Force could not touch as it so desired.

 

For the first time in a long time, Frond felt something. He was concerned for what the visions could mean. In the past, he had viewed them all with a scholarly removal as one whose way was unhindered by the goings on in the galaxy within the shadowy physical realm; but now, for some reason, he knew that this vision The Force had reserved for him and him alone.

 

Closing his eyes, the Mind Walker began to concentrate and in an instant he was back in his massive tree-form the fierce night winds of Mandalore bathing him in a torrential downpour of warm rain. As the wind whipped his limbs back and forth and the lighting crashed around him, Frond knew that whatever he had seen must be prevented. The Force had become unbalanced and should it not be righted the consequences would be dire. Standing rooted in the storm he pondered. How long had he been away? What had occurred and what still was to come? Who could he trust? What could he do? The Force had called him to action and the Neti had no idea where to begin. Well, almost no idea. He did have a name: ”Felucia”

 

 

Once the storm had subsided, Frond had returned to his humanoid form and made his way to Keldabe where he learned of the destruction wrought upon Kashyyyk by the Sith and Black Sun forces. There, he was also able to obtain passage off-world aboard one of those metallic star ships he distrusted so, to Felucia.

 

 

**Departs Mandalore for Felucia

[Mellanie Devanus Vevut]

The contract had turned out to be already taken, and after some discussion, Mellanie and Araac had decided that they'd let the other Mandalorians take the glory for that bounty. There were other things the Vevuts could take care of.

 

They didn't have to wait long for the next contract to come through. Black Sun was eager to acquire some materiel, but the posting was vague on the details. Mellanie had absolutely no love for Black Sun; they had caused her family significant trouble. But a job was a job, and she was itching for something to do.

 

So they gathered their supplies and left Keldabe the next day, sending a message on route for more information.

[Darth Nyrys]

Mandalore burst into view before long, Cathar not being a great distance away, comparatively speaking. Lissi handled arranging a meeting with the powers that be while Ailbasí addressed her apprentices. Having a personal assistant was fantastic, she should have gotten one earlier…

“I know that this all seems rather sudden, but time was of the essence. The Crusaders are slowly working their way towards Mandalore, razing planets as they go. This gives us the opportunity to extend an offer of aid to Mandalore as the foundation to a new alliance. The Mandalorians would be an excellent replacement for the absence of the wayward imperial forces. With the size of the crusader fleet, they’ll need us, and that gives us a foot in the door on negotiations. For now I want you to practice connecting to the Force, and if necessary, rest. The ship’s crew have been instructed to attend to your needs, including food, so be sure to eat and recover. There will be difficult days ahead.”

She left her apprentices to their own devices while she went to her quarters to prepare for what was sure to be a very long and tense meeting. This was where Samira’s taste in clothes would come in handy. She chose something professional and powerful, with enough metal accents to invoke the idea of armor without actually wearing armor. She of course had armor, but wearing that to peace talks would give the wrong idea. She didn’t wear a mask, instead painting the red patterns of her people over white face paint, suggesting approachability while still being definitively Sith.

“Lissi darling I want you to arrange for a tattoo artist after the meeting, someone reputable and precise. This new body is fantastic, but I need to make some alterations to make it combat ready, and that mojo is going to work better with the right markings.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know how you expect us to trust you or your people.” said one of the Tetrarchs wearily while rubbing his temples.

“No need for trust, it is clear that the Crusaders are on a warpath for your planet. You don’t want your people reduced to drugged up sociopathic savages, and we see the value in protecting your way of life.” Ailbasí’s voice was level and patient, she was prepared to be regarded as a deceiver.

“Deals with Sith never end well for the people that make them, but you have to know that we won’t become your butchers because of this, for all we know Terra is following your orders.”

“A reasonable concern, but the teacup terror is a rogue former asset, has been for some time now. Besides, my offer is not what you expect. The Dark Lord does not want you to become his terror weapons. On the contrary, you will have full control over how you pursue your strategic objectives, as a separate arm of the Dark Lord’s forces militant. Any planets that you subdue will be spared the lash of his more… blunt and cruel instruments. This is an opportunity to not only secure the future of your people but also save trillions from gruesome fates. The Galactic Alliance is shattered, and the Jedi have mostly vanished into confines of their temples. We may not be the miracle that you prayed for as the beast began its charge towards your planet, but we do bring true hope that your people can overcome this threat.”

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It was hours before the Tetrarchs came to a decision, but it was the inevitable one given the circumstances. Encrypted comms were sent to Onderon to begin planning a joint defense of Mandalore.

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The process of getting the tattoos was amusing in a sense, the artist thought that she was some delicate thing, and oh are you sure you don’t want this floral pattern or this bit of poetry. In the end though, the work was done competently and cleanly. While the artist couldn’t know this, the symbols were Sith spells used for conducting the Force through the body like additional muscles. She would regain her strength fully in time, but for now she was able to emulate it through the Force. With the right ingredients…

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“Sam, what’s going on here, we’re supposed to be on Cathar but suddenly you have us take off with no warning and none of the crew will even tell us where we are. Saskia says she thinks she saw warships outside.”

Ailbasí raised her eyebrow quizzically at the group of strangers on her ship.

“Who are you again?” she asked.

“We’re your friends, you had us come with you to that ridiculous backwater planet so you wouldn’t die of boredom. Hey, what up with the face paint and the tattoos?” the apparent voice of the group pressed.

“They’re necessary. Unlike you. Samira is dead and you will be joining her shortly.”

No one could scream as they were choked to death in mid air, their mortal energies siphoned into the spells tattooed on her body. One of them had the most beautiful braided blonde hair, and Ailbasí spent a good period of time using illusionry to learn to make her hair appear similarly styled and colored by studying the corpse. When she was through with them, she drained the last of their vital essences and they collapsed into dust.

“Apprentices, your favorite teacher is back!”