I thought it was broken!

by GuildWolf

Summary:

The 501st were just having a night of leave at 79's accompanied by their little commander. There was no need for anyone to call the guard, really. She's just hanging out with them and doing her homework, see?

Ahsoka? Why is it glowing?

Notes:

Since I'm still stuck on Gar Shuk Meh Kyrac, with the help of the wonderful people on the Oya! server, I give you... this beautiful chaos.

Chapter 1

Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, and Kix were seated around a table at 79's. It was a busy night with the 501st on leave and Ahsoka had snuck out to join the men in the lower levels. She was supposed to be doing a module in the archives but with Skywalker... busy and the 212th and 104th still in the field, Rex found himself the closest thing to a responsible adult in her circle. With as much as he'd already had by the time she showed up this made perfect sense to him and she was quickly designated Sober Shooter and a bottle shoved in Echo's hands.

It had been a couple hours since then and, okay maybe he and the boys had gotten a little rowdy, a few punches may have been thrown, and things might not be that much quieter now with Hardcase standing on the table belting out the lyrics to last month's top pop song incredibly off-key... But there was no need to call the Corrie Guard on them! Really!

Then Fox saw the little commander sitting with them and came over to kick up a fuss about corruption of a minor.

"If she can deal with the front, she can deal with seeing us blow off steam," grumbled Fives.

"She's not drinking anything but juice, Commander," defended Echo.

"Right! Besides, I need to stay because I'm the only squad member still sober!" she argued. It gave all the 501st a warm feeling to hear their jetii vod'ika refer to herself as one of them. "And besides I'm just doing my homework. I'm researching this thing, we think it's a holocron but it was made by a different Force tradition that's extinct now and-" 

Rex suddenly felt like he understood what General Kenobi meant when he said he had a 'bad feeling'... Ahsoka fumble with the strange Force relic as she pulled it out of her belt pouch (where she'd been working on it,  really!) and it tumbled onto the table, rolled between the various bottles and up against the small pile of bloody bar towels and used bacta patches in front of Kix from the earlier brawl.

The small segmented sphere began immediately glowing and began to hover. The glow intensified and began shifting from a soft white seemingly through the entire visible spectrum as the segments separated and shifted around the light inside. Before anyone could ask what the thing was doing, the light flared out forming a bubble encompassing a few feet around their table before flaring again with a final blinding brilliance.

-SW-SW-SW-SW-SW-

"I'm done taking orders from you! But don't worry, I'll take care of the troops."

Jaster Mereel cursed himself, Vizsla, and especially that aruetii Montross. He could hear Jango yelling his name in the distance and cursed again.  He never wanted Jango to have to mourn another buir so soon...

There was a blinding flash and for a moment a sphere of light hung suspended a meter off the ground between himself and Vizsla's Kry'stad.

Then the light seemed to pop like a soap bubble dropping a section of ground - or maybe decking? - that looked as if it had been scooped up by whatever that was. The section of ground quickly dumping a large table littered with bottles an a group of strange verde on the ground.

There are varying yelps, groans, and sweats from the now tangled pile of verde as they tried to extricate themselves. The only one who managed to roll clear, a teenage togruta, is on her feet and scanning the battlefield in an instant.

"Uh... guys," she calls out warily, "We aren't in 79s anymore... or even on Coruscant."

What the kriff?!

It was oddly difficult to pick out any one voice in the sudden clamor of questions and swearing but at some point most seemed to reference 'kriffing Force osik' in various levels of incredulity and aggravation. 

Finally one near the bottom of the pile (was that a five tattooed on his face?) called out to her "Too drunk for how bright... C'mand'r wh'r the kriff?"

"Right. Um... Kix, you got your emergency stims right? Good. Sober up boys. I dont know where we are or what's going on but I've got Death Watch in front of me." Well at by that tone these verde were narudar at the very least if that's how they felt about Kry'stad. 

"Kark!" The lone blonde among the verd was still pinned under the table, "Fox, vod back her up please..."

What the kriff?!

The helmeted verde in red and white seemed to agree with Jaster.  "... back up the 14 yea-"

"Hey! 16!"

Fox groaned and actually rubbed his buy'ce tiredly. "This is the banthashit you deal with on the front?"

Another verde had managed to untangle himself and quickly reached for a hypo to inject himself. "Gah! You're the only two sober, buy us 5 mi-"

But apparently Tor was done waiting. Face an unflattering purple in his rage at having been ignored he roared across the battlefield.

"I don't care I'll kill you all! Fire!"

The togruta yelped and slim silver cylinders Jaster hadn't even noticed leapt from her belt to her hands even as her arms were in motion. All he could hear was the BOOM of Vizsla's canon and then an echoed snap-bzzz that he swore he could feel in his bones as the girl swing both blades together and with a grunt of effort deflected the canon blast.

Fox swears loudly and is with great variety even as he starts sprinting in an arc to avoid the canon still firing stubbornly at the deflecting jet'ika.

A half dozen Krystadiise take off from the tank with jetpacks hoping to overwhelm with numbers. Fox snags the first with his whip cord and yanks the shabuir down onto the barrel of the canon, fouling the aim for a bit before quick drawing his pistol and hitting two more with shots to their necks just under their buy'ce and they drop

The jet'ika reaches out and clenches her fists around empty air and two jetpacks crumpled, sending their owners crashing to the ground.

Supporting fire started peppering Kry'stad from around the edge of the displace floor and table.

With a feral grin the jet'ika charged right at Vizsla, Jaster noted Fox hauling the last verde out of the air before punching him hard enough that something cracked loudly and the verde went down in a heap.

Vizsla ignited the Dha'kad with a snarl and clashed saber to saber with the jet'ika in w whirlwind of powerful strikes. Eventually their blades locked, his one caught on her two, and with a yell of effort he shoved hard enough to send her tumbling to the ground. Jaster's heart fell as Vizsla turned to flee once again-

And ran right into Fox's fist.

Chapter 2

Summary:

First meetings

Jango's heart was in his throat. He'd almost lost Jas'buir. He was startled out of his staring when one of the verde in white and blue dropped his side of the table he'd been helping lift off the lone blonde. The other side of the table slipped from his partners hands with a yell and a breathless "oof!" from the trapped verd. The first verd ignores them as he rushes towards Jaster.

"Silas take the men and help secure any prisoners, Myles with me," Jango was surprised his voice wasn't shaking like his hands. He clenched them into fists to hide it and strode quickly toward where his buir was now being checked over by the stranger. As he got closer he could hear them talking.

"-en did you become a baar'ur, Jango?"

"Told you, my name is Kix. Not Jango." The medic was nearly growling his patient, and they were close enough now to see this verd did look quite a bit like Jango expected he would in a few years. Although his hair was in a strange buzz cut, showing off some tattoo that couldn't be read from this angle.

Jaster tried to sit up again as Jango dropped to his knees next to him, trusting Myles to have his back.

"Stay down! Jare'la utree'kov! Those painkillers I gave you are no joke."

Jaster looked been the two and pulled off his helmet, glassy eyes clearly confused. "Jango?"

"I will sedate yo-"

"I'm right here buir, u'desii." Jango glanced warily at the strange medic before removing his own helmet and taking his father's hand.
The stranger stilled for a brief moment before returning to checking Jaster's wounded leg with a face that now may as well have been carved from stone.

"Osik, there's debris in the wound. Hey Echo," he yelled over his shoulder. "Is there still a bottle of shine over there?"

A verd with a handprint on his breastplate looked around quickly before snatching up a bottle off the ground. "Over half full still," he called as he jogged over.

Another, this one with a goatee and a small tattoo on his face, snorted from where he was now helping the blond verd to his feet. "Good thing you capped it when Commander Buzzkill showed up."

Another snickered. "Buzzkill? Not familiar with that vod, what battalion are they in?"
The one with the bottle of booze dropped to his knees next to the medic even as the blond reprimanded the two loudmouths. "Fives, Case that's enough!"

The medic took the bottle of clear liquid and deftly twisted off the cap. "This is gonna hurt. Echo, Pr-- kid, hold him down for me. Once I flush this out we can slap some bacta on it and bandage it up."

Jango grit his teeth and held Jaster's shoulders down while the other verd, Echo, pinned his hips and the medic stretched out the injured leg, quickly and efficiently stripping the armor plates. He pulled a knife from a boot sheath and before Myles or Jango could move to stop him had started cutting away the damaged kute.

"Hold him!" The medic barked needlessly before dumping a good portion of what remained of the bottle into the wound. Jango stubbornly kept his buir pinned to the muddy ground even as he screamed through gritted teeth.

"K'uur, u'desii vod. There you go," th- Kix didn't seem to be paying any attention to what he was saying to soothe his patient as he checked the wound again. With a nod he shoved the bottle at his startled vod, who had to release Jaster to grab it, and pulled a tube of bacta from the med pack at his hip.

In no time at all he'd slathered the wound with a thick layer and begun wrapping it with bandages. "Pass the bottle, vod." He said absently. The other - Echo - tried to pass him the bottle and Kix swatted his arm irritably. "Not me! The verd'ika." Echo looked uncertainty around their little huddle. "Just a swig, dikut. We need him to not pass out."

"Oh, right. That makes sense." Echo held the mostly empty bottle out to Jango. Jango looked at it doubtfully.

"Just take a Force damned drink, you look like you're about to pass out from shock. Ana'verde atin'yc dikut'es. Kriffing sith hells," Kix's swears trailed off into unintelligible grumbles as he tied off the bandage.

Jaster was pale and breathing heavily through the pain.

Kriff it.

Jango snatched the offered bottle and took an almost desperate swig from the bottle.

Before all but throwing it away as the burn hit his throat and he started coughing. All four of the others immediately started laughing at him.

"Force, kid! Don't inhale it!" Echo was nearly doubled over with his laughter.

"You all suck," Jango rasped.

~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~

"Hut'uunla shabuir," Fox spat as he shook his aching hand. He gave an idle glance from the cracked bloody plate on the back of his hand to the bloodied face on the ground at his feet.

Not exactly my jurisdiction... Still...

Fox sighed and reached for his restraints, quickly cuffing the hawk-nosed mans hands behind him before starting to strip his weapons.

Good kit, Fox thought to himself as he clipped the weird black lightsaber to his belt and slung a rifle over his shoulder.

"Have you got any more of those?"

Oh great the jet'ika caught up.

"No." Nevertheless he reached into his belt pouch for a handful of the cheap but strong plastoid ties the guard kept on hand for when they didn't have enough cuffs. "Use these. Hands behind their backs and pile their weapons separately." He slid another two vibroblades from the man's armor and into his own.

"Hey! What about you? Are you just trying to get out of doing it yourself?" She puffed up in offended pride, but accepted the ties anyway.

"I'll be dealing with incoming locals. You've got your orders. Get moving." Fox didn't even look at her as he stood, slinging the still unconscious mando over his shoulder and drawing his pistol again. He turned to face the approaching group and pointed his blaster at the ground in front of them, not yet an overt threat but strongly implied. "Halt. Ke'mot."

The group came to a halt still a good trend meters away. They shifted uncertainly for a moment before one took a careful step forward, hands up and open.

"Our thanks for stopping that hut'uun from escaping again. I'm Silas, clan Deshra house Mereel. Our Alor'ad sent us to help secure your prisoners."

"S"that so," Fox drawled. "Here." With a grunt of effort he heaved and tossed the armored man at their feet.

They stared at him in stunned silence for a moment before shifting uncomfortably as blasterfire and the buzz of lightsabers erupted somewhere behind Fox. He waited to the count of five and sure enough it was quiet again by four.

"Jet'ika?" His voice gave no indication of his feelings on the brief firefight behind him.

"Su'cuy!" The togruta called back cheerfully. "The two I pulled down have broken legs but they were still conscious is all."

"Pull harder next time," he drawled with audible amusement, watching with satisfaction as the mando'ade in front of him shifted uncomfortably.

Chapter 3

Silas tries not to fidget nervously in his stare down with the strange verd in red and white but... Ka'ra! How strong must he be to just *toss* a grown verd in full beskar nearly 10 meters? Sure it didn't look effortless, but Silas knew verde twice this mans size who would struggle with that feat. 

 

He may not know who these strangers are, but this one at least is definitely ori'ramikad. 

 

Just as he was about to try again to open dialogue the verde around him shifted nervously. Silas looked over to see... 

 

What exactly was he seeing? 

 

Four Krystadiise were floating along as if on grav-stretchers with their arms bound behind them. One was even still conscious to curse the little togruta following behind with her eyes closed and her arms out. Behind her floated another pair of verde, limp and unbound. Around her... 

 

Around her whirled a veritable cloud of weaponry. 

 

"Quit showing off kid, everybody here just saw how good you are. Prisoners there, weapons here." 

 

Silas didn't think he'd ever heard someone so unfazed in the face of the absurd. 

 

The jet'ika frowned a little in concentration, "This isn't as easy as I'm making it look y'know..." The captured verde were set down reasonably gently near Vizsla, the two corpses off to the side a bit, and all the weapons slowly settled in a pile a bit behind the other stranger. 

 

With a sigh that seemed to release a great deal of tension from those tiny shoulders she stepped over to stand supportively at the other's elbow. He patted her shoulder a little awkwardly. 

 

"Good job, kid." 

 

She beamed at him like he'd handed her a star as she chirped, "Thanks ori'vod!" 

 

He jerked as if she'd slapped him even as his hand flew off her shoulder as if it was on fire. 

 

"Wha- No. Absolutely not. You're Torrent's baby Jedi, not the Guard!" 

 

"But they adopted me and you're all vod'e so that makes you my ori'vod too!" That was definitely a familiar look of a vod'ika who spotted a weakness. 

 

"Nu draar. We don't want a Jedi, we don't need a Jedi. Bad enough we have to deal with that nuisance Vos whenever he's planetside!" 

 

She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms. "I'm not asking to transfer to the Guard! But the Jedi have been my family since I was three and since Rex and the others declared me little sister that makes all the Vod'e my family now too. *Including you,* ori'vod." 

 

He pointed a finger at her and took an audible breath to argue before he froze. 

 

She smirked smugly and reached up to pat his shoulder. "Vode an, *ori'vod.*" 

 

Silas cleared his throat after making sure his external coms were on. The jet'ika jumped guiltily and the verd snapped to parade rest. A half step in front of the jet'ika.

 

"There's your prisoners, already secured. Have a nice day." The verd started to very deliberately turn to lead the jet'ika away. 

 

"What about their weapons?" Wen blurted from his place at Silas' right shoulder. 

 

"What weapons? They're unarmed." The smirk was audible and the jet'ika didn't bother to hide her giggle. 

 

"Wait!" Silas scrambled to think of what to say. Kriff it, why did Jango have to keep Myles with him? The big Pantoran was so much better with people. "You are the current holder of the Darksaber. Do you intend to claim the title Mand'alor?" 

 

"What?!" The verd jerked to a stop and turned so quickly Silas thought he might have heard his neck crack. 

 

Wen pointed at the hilt clipped to the man's belt. "The Darksaber. Whoever holds it holds a claim to be Mand'alor. It's why Vizsla-" He cut off as the verd pulled the hilt from his belt and whipped it at Silas. 

 

"Kriff no! No karking way! Nu draar! The Guard is *more* than enough." He put a hand back on the togruta's shoulder and began leading her away at a much faster pace, almost like he was afraid they'd try to give it back. "Let's get you back to your explosion happy dikutes. Then we can try to figure out where the kark we are." 

 

Silas cleared his throat again. Kriff he really wasn't good at people. "Korda VI." The two strangers stopped to stare back at him a moment. "We're uh... we're on Korda VI. We had a contract doing search and rescue for the Kordans, but it was a trap from Kry'stad." 

 

The verd jerked like he'd been prodded with a live wire and whirled to look towards where Jaster, Jango, and Myles were being approached by the other newcomers in blue. 

 

"Kark." He started running, the jet'ika following after a brief look of confusion.

 

"Wen, watch them! Shoot any that get loose! The rest of you with me!" Silas took off after the strangers converging on his Mand'alor and Alor'ad. 

 

~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~

 

Rex grumbled to himself as Fives and Hardcase continued to snicker behind him. And Jesse did nothing to stop it. Mutiny. 

 

Up ahead Kix and Echo seemed to be laughing with these strangers, although Echo was currently blocking his line of sight to one of them. The one still standing, a tall verde in bright blue and silver beskar'gam with orange pauldrons and a matching blue cape, watched their approach but made no move to stop them.

 

"Kix, how's your patient?"

 

From the corner of his eye he saw Fox start running in their direction, but Kix and Echo had turned at his call and-

 

"What's a cadet doing here?!" 

 

Rex tended up and even as Jesse hissed behind him, "Nejohaa, 'Case! That's not a cadet!"

 

"It's Boba?"

 

"No," breathed Fives incredulously. "The paint's all wrong. That's not Boba it's-"

 

"Prime." Rex growled. He took a step forward, not entirely sure what he intended to do, not hardly thinking at all.

 

And then Fox tackled him. 

Notes:

Mando'a
Ka'ra = stars
Ori'ramikad = super commando
Krystadiise = Death Watch (pl)
Ori'vod = older/bigger sibling
Vode an = brothers all (also the name of a manor war chant the cuy'val dark taught the clones)
Nu draar = never, not ever
Dikutes = idiots, fools
Nejohaa = shut up

Chapter 4

Myles was officially impressed. He hadn't even had time to raise his blaster after the blonde had seen Jango before the verd in red had tackled him into the mud. Even now the verd had quickly twisted around, somehow keeping all but his boots clear of the mud, until he was seated on the shoulders of the blonde with his muddy boots resting on the blonde's shebs. The blonde stranger was still snarling but at least now it wasn't at Jango.

 

"Ke'nari ori'shebs Fox!"

 

Fox removed his helmet and ran his hand through sweaty dark red curls streaked white at the temples. Bright gold eyes sparkled with mischief to match his smug smirk, despite the dark circles that spoke of far too little sleep and a set of jagged scars that cut across one eyebrow. Myles thought he might be in love.

 

"My shebs are absolute perfection I'll have you know. You should respect your elders Rex'ika."

 

"Ke'shabla gar! Slana'pir mir'sheb!"

 

Fox just kicked his shebs, making the blonde's face slip an inch closer to the mud. "Tch! Language Rex'ika, your jet'ika is here. What kind of an example are you setting for your kih'vod?"

 

The blonde stilled seeming almost guilty. "Commander Tano?"

 

"Yes, Rexter?"

 

Myles jumped at the togruta that had seemingly appeared from nowhere at his elbow, chirping gleefully. The blonde groaned.

 

"There's no way anyone is going to just… forget this, is there."

 

One of the other verde in blue had his bracers up, recording a holo. Fox shot him a sloppy salute. "Not a chance, Captain!"

 

The blonde groaned again and muttered something about mutiny before shifting his arms to pull his face further from the mud.

 

"So you ready to pull that pile of polycotton fluff you call a head out of your shebs, Rex'ika? Or do I tell your men about that thing with Ponds when you were four?"

 

The unfortunate blonde yelped as one hand slid in the mud and he barely caught himself. "All right! I give! Just get off already!"

 

Fox hesitated a moment, smug smirk finally slipping away. "Just… just remember he's not Prime, Rex'ika."

 

Fox stood with a tired sigh. The blonde got to his feet beside him, liberally covered in mud.

 

"Right. Now to try and explain this osik." 

 

Myles found himself straightening to attention as the two marched over. Actually…

 

A quick look around showed nearly everyone, Haat'ade and newcomers alike, had gathered around the injured Mand'alor. Jango had replaced his buy'ce at some point, likely uncomfortable with the stares from newest three verde in blue. Jaster himself was looking at each of the newcomers in turn, expression  troubled.

 

"An explanation would be appreciated. Jaster Mereel, he/him. My thanks fo-"

 

"Oh no you don't!" Jango it seems has had enough, Myles mused to himself. "You can take the time to be diplomatic on the ship, Jas'buir. If you don't get to medbay soon ba'vodu Ruu is going to kill you herself." 

 

Ah. That would do it. If Jango had contacted the cruiser in orbit baar'ur Ruussan was likely frothing to get their poor Mand'alor in her medbay. Something Jaster realized apparently as he blanched and paled.

 

"Uh… she doesn't have to know?"

 

"Buir."

 

Wow, had Jango been taking lessons in sounding disappointed? That was totally a buir voice ironically.

 

Silas cleared his throat, "What about the prisoners, Mand'alor? I left Wen watching them."

 

Jango and Jaster both snapped their attention to Silas at that.

 

"You left him alone with them?!"

 

"Hey, relax! Only one of them was still conscious and they weren't going anywhere," the jet'ika defended. "Two broken legs when I crushed their jetpack and I got them with a reflected bolt in the shoulder when they resisted arrest."

 

Fox sighed. "Jet'ika. Did your knickknack come with us?"

 

"Ummm…" The jet'ika looked around before closing her eyes and apparently thinking very hard. "...no. No, it's not here. I guess we have to hitch a ride back to Coruscant?"

 

Fox sighed again. "That's not going to help as much as you think, kid." He straightened to attention and saluted Jaster, not with his fist to his chest like a Mando'ade but with a knife hand at his temple like militaries in Republic space. "Mand'alor Mereel I would like to request asylum for myself and those under my command. I don't mind briefing you fully but it might be best to do so in a more secure location."

 

Jaster seemed thrown by the shift to formality for a moment. "U'desii, verd. I'll hold you to that, you can join me in the medbay. But for now we need to catch up to that aruetii Montross."

 

"Kal's already got him at the dropships, buir. Which is where we're all headed. Now." Myles shifted closer to Jango, leaning his knee into his younger friend's back supportively. He could tell Jango was going to crash as soon as he was sure Jaster was safe. 

 

~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~

 

Fives grumbled under his breath as he trudged along with the rest of their group. Why did he have to carry this shabuir? He'd have been happy with a bundled up tarp full of weapons like Echo, but no. He had the long-haired hawk-nosed loudmouth that shot at them. The Mand'alor had his arms over Kix and Jango's shoulders, Fox and that big guy in blue to either side of them carefully on watch. Fives himself was stuck towards the rear of the group with the others stuck carrying prisoners or captured gear.

 

He could see the dropships ahead of them, and the crowd around them somewhat, but he wasn't close enough to hear what was said between the four at the front and the Mando'ade in brown kute with tan plates. Their group started moving forward into the closest ship and as he got closer he could see another verd in blue and silver on his knees with his arms behind his back. He was snarling and swearing as the one in brown dragged him to his feet. Fives guessed this was the aruetii the Mand'alor had mentioned. 

 

It was a good thing he'd been watching as the traitor lashed out, kicking his captors knee and and trying to dash for the tree line. 

 

With a grin Fives whirled around, shifting his grip and then releasing… sending his unconscious prisoner crashing into the traitors back and sending them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

 

Nearly a dozen Mando'ade from the crowd dove to secure the prisoners so Fives just dusted his hands smugly. Someone else can carry the shabuir now.

 

"Nice throw!" The verd in brown clapped Fives on the back. "Serves the aruetyc besom right."

 

"Heh, thanks. Not much worse than traitors. Sorry for dropping in on you all like this, I guess," Fives tried to remember everything he'd ever been told about interacting with natborns. Being polite was important right?

 

"No worries there! You all saved our Mand'alor and captured Vizsla, there's sure to be a celebration when we get back to base," the verd removed his buy'ce to show a ruggedly handsome face softened by a beaming grin. "Names Kal. Maybe I can get you a drink at the party?"

 

"Uh sure. Yeah, sounds great! I'm Fives, by the way." Ok, parties, drinks, yeah he can handle this.

 

"Great! I'll see you there Fives." The grin he got made him feel a little odd, but it was quickly hidden behind the man's helmet as he turned to retrieve his prisoner.

 

Fives found himself watching him walk away as Echo sidled up next to him. "So… got a date, vod?"

 

"I guess so… Kal, huh…" Something niggled at the back of his mind. Was Kal familiar? 

 

"Kal huh." Echo's voice was as dry as the surface of Rishi. "Never figured you for a buir kink, vod."

 

Fives jerked in surprise. "Wha-? What are you talking about, Echo?!"

 

Echo gave Fives the same pitying look he had that time Droidbait convinced him that the new cleanser packs were rations.

 

"That was Kal Skirata. Sgt Skirata. From Kamino."

 

Fives blanched as behind them Jesse and Hardcase howled with laughter and Fox cackled.

Notes:

Mando'a (lotta swearing this time)
Verd = soldier (general term for adult)
Shebs = ass, backside
Ke'nari ori'shebs = (commanding) move your big ass
Ke'shabla gar =(commanding) go fuck yourself
Slana'pir mir'sheb = piss off smartass
Jet'ika = little jedi, padawan
Kih'vod = little sibling (with kih'vod emphasis on little)
Osik = shit
Buy'ce = helmet
Haat'ade = lit. "True children", True Mandalorians
Mand'alor = leader of us all
Buir = parent
Ba'vodu = aunt/uncle, sibling of parent
Baar'ur = medic
U'desii = peace, at ease

Chapter 5

Notes:

A bit shorter than I planned and we haven't finished the reveals yet... But Jaster wanted to talk and then got too tangled up in his emotions...

So please accept this hurt and know comfort is coming soon.

... though not before more hurt

Fox kept his shoulders straight and his face blank, showing nothing despite having his bucket under his arm. He tried to work out what to say, what he could say… Just ahead of him limped Mereel, still half hanging between Kix and- and Jango. Rex was a silent thundercloud to one side of him and the tall verd with orange pauldrons hovered to his right, sneaking glances about as subtly as Skywalker. Most of Mereel's verde had peeled off once they were on the cruiser, but the jet'ika and vod'ike were trailing behind them. And of course Torrent's di'kutes were as quiet and subtle as their general. 

 

"So you're saying you wouldn't want to raise little haran'yce with him?" Fox was pretty sure that was Rex's second, what was his name again? He never used to have trouble remembering a vod before… before Coruscant.

 

Fives (now there was a vod he'd never forget after this!) actually hesitated. Laughter quickly rang out and the poor kid rushed to defend himself. 

 

"Well, I mean, those guys were awesome! Everybody knew about the Nulls!"

 

Another scoffed at him. "Yeah right kid! Coupl'a shinies like you've probably never even seen the bastards!"

 

"No. No, we did once." That was the batchmate, Echo. Ironic with what Prime came to call them, but he seemed like a steady sort. Unusual for Torrent. Better watch him. Wait, what was he saying? "- came swinging through the rafters on grapple lines and stole parts from the training room. We would've failed that exam if they hadn't gotten it rescheduled."

 

"And they kept taking shots at the karking longnecks while they did it! Kandosii!" Fox scoffed. Seems the kid might actually be smitten after all, if only with Skirata's bastards rather than the man himself. 

 

"We're here," called Jango as they reached the door. "I'm warning you, do NOT cross br. Ruussan once we're through this door." Didn't that sort of thing go without saying? All medics were tyrannical dictators of their domains. 

 

The door slid open and Jango and Kix hauled Mereel inside. 

 

"On the bed, di'kut!" Snapped a feminine voice. When Fox made it past the doorway himself he was able to see the diminutive figure in orange and dark blue beskar'gam hovering impatiently as Mereel was settled on a cot. "What's he been given?"

 

Fox tuned out the medical talk and scanned the room instead. Rex was hovering by the door, arms crossed. One of his di'kutes was helping another lay on a cot away from Mereel. A quick look showed no injuries, probably just the alcohol and adrenal catching up to him. The other two were nearby, still bickering like tubies. The verd had moved to stand supportively with Jango. That'd probably be Myles then. That left-

 

"So why did you say hitching a ride back to Coruscant wouldn't help?" Fox did not jump, no matter what that snickering mir'sheb Rex said. How the haran did the jet'ika keep showing up out of nowhere? 

 

"I'm curious about that myself," added Mereel before the medic snapped at him to lay down. Fox hesitated and eyed the medic.

 

"This might be considered sensitive intel…"

 

Mereel looked confused until Fox nodded pointedly at the medic, then to Jango and Myles.

 

"Wha-? Oh. I would have to brief Jango later anyway, and he can't keep a secret from Myles here to save his life. And I trust Ruussan completely. She gave me a home when no one else would." The medic gave him a despairing look.

 

"You crashed on my couch after you finally smartened up and dumped Vizsla." From the way Jango sputtered this was new information to him.

 

"And he burned your house down!"

 

"Tch. Just proves I was right about him all along."

 

"I never had an exact date for the Battle of Korda VI," Fox interrupted before things could get too far off track. "But I'm pretty sure it's currently 954ARR." Mereel nodded curiously as if waiting for more, but sure enough the jet'ika spoke up instead. 

 

"Wha-?! No it's not! It's 979 ori'vod! Do you need a medic?" 

 

"Probably. Not important. Whatever that knickknack of yours was, it tossed us over 20 years back in time. The Jedi won't know you, kid. The Grand Army of the Republic doesn't even exist right now. Kamino is mostly unknown and Dooku should still be a Jedi Master." There was a stunned silence before most of his vod'ike started talking over each other too quickly to make out what any one was saying. It was not helping his headache at all.

 

"Ne'johaa!" That little baar'ur had quite the set of lungs, Fox winced to himself. Instantly there was silence. "I realize you've all just heard something strange and upsetting, but This. Is. A. Medbay. You will behave or I WILL make you leave. Unconscious if need be." There was a hushed chorus of 'yes sir' before she nodded in satisfaction. "Now you can continue in a moment I just need to know if any of the rest of you are injured? I'm satisfied with Kix's general competence from how he handled my jare'la vod, but he didn't mention it the rest of you have been looked over yet." She pointed to the vod laying back on a cot with an arm over his eyes. "What's wrong with him?"

 

Echo shifted uncertainly next to the cot. "That's Hardcase, ma'am. He's just had a bit too much drink and excitement, that's all."

 

"No such thing…" the di'kut muttered weakly.

 

She nodded, "Well if that's the case you'll be fine with water and rest. No meds fix stupid." There were a few snickers at that while she glanced critically around the room. "Kix, check over your boys and then come to me with a report. You!" She pointed to Fox. "You sit over here by Mir'tra. You look like you have a headache?"

 

Fox grimaced but sat on the cot next to Mereel's. Jango and Myles were standing on the other side of the man's cot, and Jango… Well, the look on his face reminded Fox of the time Stone tried to figure out where to get enough rations to get them through another week when their supplies were redirected for the fifth time in a row. He could practically see the gears turning. 

 

"The headache's nothing new. Fix, my medic, says it's stress and too many stims." He thought carefully about what to say next.

 

"Give me your arm. I'm going to do bloodwork." Fox grimaced but stripped the glove and plates from one arm to roll up his sleeve. 

 

"You said 979? And an army of the Republic?" Well at least Mereel knew how to focus on the important things.

 

"Yes." He resolutely ignored the needle sliding under his skin and forced himself not to move. "We're all members of the GAR in our time. The di'kutes in blue are from Torrent company, 501st battalion with the 7th Systems Fleet. Normally lead by Jedi General Skywalker, Padawan Commander Tano, and Captain Rex." The medic stepped away with her vial of blood and he quietly released a shuddering breath. "I'm Marshall Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard."

 

Mereel nodded a little thoughtfully. "So what exactly does the Coruscant Guard do? And when does the Republic get an army? We get a lot of our contracts because they don't, it'd be good to know ahead of time when the jobs are going to dry up."

 

Fox hesitated. Better to answer the bigger, less personal question first. Less to dodge there. "The GAR was activated in 978 for the first Battle of Geonosis. It, that is we, were commissioned around ten years before that." Better to RIP of the bacta patch… "We're clones of Jango Fett." 

 

Jango seemed to be choking now. Well they were in a medbay… The little baar'ur smacked him hard on the back and he gasped for breath. 

 

"Wha- Why would I-" This time she smacked the back of his head. Jango gave her a dirty look that more resembled a pout at this age before looking around at the tense vode with growing wonder. "So… you're all my ade? Is that why I made some deal with the Republic, to get children? Wait, how many?"

 

Rex snarled from his place by the door. "We are not your ade."

 

Fox sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. "Rex'ika…"

 

Jango looked stricken. "So I just left?!"

 

"Worse," Rex sneered. "You stayed."

 

"Rex! Ne'johaa! Jango isn't Prime."

 

"Just because he hasn't become that dar'm-"

 

"Ne'johaa!" Fox roared and threw the closest thing at hand, his vambrace, at his always too passionate vod'ika. He kept his eyes focused on Rex, he was too tired for this osik. From the corner of his eye he saw Mereel place a steadying hand on a pale Jango's shoulder. Fox took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They couldn't afford to be impulsive here… now… whatever.

 

"It's not just a matter of time passed, Rex'ika." Would he be able to talk about this still? It wasn't actually about- about Him. "It isn't even a matter of trauma suffered." Mereel stiffened and looked at him searchingly, but he kept his eyes on his vod'ika. "You weren't around in the early days, Rex'ika. I'm not sure if it's better or worse that you only ever met Prime… buir would have loved you."

 

Jango gaped hopefully at Fox and he tried not to grimace at the tooka eyes worthy of a shiny. "But, uh…" he looked uncertainly at Rex who snarled in return. 

 

"My name is Rex." Because of kriffing course Rex'ika would get touchy about his name with a Jango that would have no idea why. 

 

"Enough, Rex'ika. He isn't buir because buir was a sad and desperate man who'd lost nearly everyone he ever knew. He isnt Prime because he hasn't had somebody kriffing around in his head." Maybe… maybe if he could talk about this… maybe he could finally say something, anything to make them at least suspect…

 

~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~

 

The medbay was deathly silent as Jaster held his son's shoulder supportively. 

 

"I died today, didn't I? Down there on Korda." Jango stiffened under his hand and he squeezed reassuringly, but kept his eyes on Fox. Jango's clone. One of an army of Jango's-

 

No. No he'd already seen these verde are their own men, not mere copies. He couldn't fall into that trap of thinking of them as lesser because of their origins. Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaasla. And these verde in blue had apparently adopted the jet'ika already…

 

"That's right," Fox cleared his throat before continuing. "Jango got to the battlefield too late and his word alone wasn't enough against Montross to have him executed so he was only exiled. From what I understand, most of the traditionalist clans you had gathered to your banner were unwilling to follow a teenager as Mand'alor. A lot of them withdrew their support of the Haat'ade to focus on their individual survival. Jango led successfully for several years despite that and started to gain more support. Then… then Kry'stad set another trap because Vizsla escaped on Korda and at the battle of Galidraan the Haat'ade were almost entirely wiped out by the Jedi. As far as I'm aware… Jango was the only survivor of those present at the battle."

 

The stunned silence was broken by a beeping from one of the machines, then by Ruu rushing past cursing someone else for once.

 

"Jare'la di'kut! How are you not dead?!"

 

Fox blinked at her. "Caf and spite. What's this about?" 

 

The angry blond, Rex, scoffed. Ruu was nearly vibrating with protective anger. He hadn't seen her this bad since he'd adopted Jan'ika… oh. 

 

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you'd actually replaced your blood with stims! When was the last time you slept?!"

 

Fox checked his chrono and Jaster could hear Ruussan's growl. "73 hours roughly."

 

Wait. What?

 

"Jare'la or'dinii! Di'kut! Gar shuk me kyrac! I thought you said you had a medic?!"

 

"I do. Fix cut me off from stims roughly 30 hours ago." He scowled and ran a hand through sweaty curls before reluctantly admitting, "Chem cut me off of his homebrew about 5 hours ago. I've only had caf since and am probably going to suffer a severe crash so I'd like to get as much critical intel out of the way before that as possible."

 

"What did you mean about someone kriffing with my head?" Jango sounded a little hoarse and cleared his throat before continuing. "That seems like pretty critical intel to me." 

 

Fox tensed up, his golden eyes looked hunted for a moment before he fixed his gaze somewhere over Jaster's shoulder. "Most of what I've said so far is, if not common knowledge in our time, at least publicly available."

 

"And this isn't." Jaster noted that all the verde in blue were obviously listening, although Rex was still scowling. 

 

"When I was a cadet I used to run around in the vents of the facility. I was around three when the cloners decided buir was interfering in their operations too much and he disappeared for a while. I went looking for him. I didn't find anything for weeks. When I finally found something, well, it wasn't what I expected. I'd barely started looking that night so I was still near the landing pads when Nala Se came through with a man in a hooded robe and a jetii'kad on his belt. He told her that Jango shouldn't give them any more trouble. The next day, Prime came to train us. Kote called him buir and Prime nearly killed him. Changed his name to Cody after that."

 

Notes:

Mando'a
Verd - soldier, general term for adult
Jet'ika - little Jedi, padawan
Vod'ike - little/younger siblings
Di'kutes - fools, idiots, useless people
Haran'yce - hellions
Kandosii - awesome, cool, wizard
Baar'ur (br) - medic, doctor
Mir'sheb - smartass
Ne'johaa - shut up
Jare'la - suicidal, having a death wish
Mir'tra - (lit. head-sky) Ruussan's nickname for Jaster [saying his head is in the clouds]
Ade - children
Buir - parent
Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaasla - "nobody cares who your parent was, only the parent you will be." (Mandalorian proverb)
Mand'alor - leader of all mandalorians
Haat'ade - True Mandalorians
Kyr'stad - Death Watch
Or'dinii - lunatic, crazy person
Gar shuk me kyrac - you're no use dead
Jetii'kad - lightsaber

Chapter 6

Summary:

Warnings this chapter for dark themes. All is not well with the Coruscant Guard...

Notes:

Many thanks to ValkyriePhoenix for helping me finish this out, it's been stuck for a while!

Ahsoka frowned and thought through everything she'd just heard and compared it to all the bits and pieces she'd overheard throughout the war. She hadn't sensed any falsehoods in the Force but Fox seemed to be choosing his words carefully. 

 

"He couldn't have been a Jedi because the Jedi didn't know about the army until Master Obi-wan followed Jango Fett to Kamino. And Jedi mind tricks don't work like that." Fox just nodded tiredly. 

 

"Nala Se called him Lord Tyrannus. Dunno what he's Lord of." Half her boys seemed to start choking and she stared at the commander incredulously. 

 

"Fox… ori'vod… Tyrannus is Dooku . It's his name as a Sith, dar'jetii." Fox stared at her blankly for a moment as it seemed to sink in.

 

"Haar'chak! How was I supposed to know that? Shabla senators only ever call him 'Count Dooku'!"

 

"Didn't you say you work with Master Vos sometimes?"

 

Fox scoffed. "And the shabuir only ever calls him "Count Dorku" or "Obe’s pissy grampa"."

 

She shot her boys a look that didn't seem to do anything to stop their snickering. She caught the rather incredulous looks from their Mandalorian hosts and winced. 

 

"Master Vos is… an experience."

 

"He's a menace, " Fox growled.

 

"What I want to know," interrupted the medic, "Is what the haran this Coruscant Guard does that you need to take three day shifts and mainline caf! That is neither healthy nor sustainable!"

 

Hardcase scoffed from the other side of the medbay and Ahsoka barely noticed Fox flinch.

 

"The Guard are a bunch of flimsy-flingers!"

 

"It's the safest post in the GAR," Jesse shrugged.

 

Ahsoka's eyes hadn't left Fox for an instant. His face seemed to have shut down completely, but his hands were fisted in the sheets of the medbay cot and his emotions were screaming in the Force.

 

"... that… isn't actually true. Is it, ori'vod."

 

Fox met her eyes and she fought the urge to step back from the fire in his.

 

"... third."

 

"What?" Rex looked confused. Fox growled.

 

"The Guard is third highest in casualty lists. Right after the Forward Marines and whatever poor souls they give to General Krell."

 

She ignored her boys crying out distressed denials and focused on her newest ori'vod. Fox hadn't let his expression slip at all… his sabacc face was Council worthy. But a glance to his hands showed his knuckles were as white as the sheets he was gripping and his presence in the Force continued to be a loud and confusing tangle of emotions.

 

"Lost the most in the beginning. Had to design new training modules for the Guard. Longnecks didn't karking design us for the osik we deal with." 

 

"But how- I mean wha-" It wasn't often Ahsoka got to see Rex so off balance anymore. He'd adapted so quickly to 'Jedi antics'. If this weren't so grim she'd be plotting to make the two vode interact more.

 

"Some to riots. Some to criminals, because Judicial hands most everything over to us. Some to attacks on the Senators because of kriffing course the blue bastards are worthless peacocks. But mostly decommissioning." Every other Vod in the room stiffened and even Hardcase seemed more sober than before. That… he couldn't mean… "We have more contact with natborns than any other vode. And sometimes all it takes is a single complaint." 

 

Myles pulled off his buy'ce to reveal a rather pale Pantoran around her age. His skin probably would have matched the bright blue of his armor if it wasn't tinged grey. His bright gold eyes were wide under his messy lavender hair. "Deco- That's slaver talk! You're talking like you're slaves ! Kriff!"

 

Fox stared him down, the Force around him seemed to almost chill with icy bitterness. "We aren't slaves . To be classified as a slave one must first be classified as sentient. Something the Senate is still denying."

 

The Force rang with shock and horror. Never seen anyone gut punch a whole medbay at once, Ahsoka thought a bit hysterically. 

 

"U'desii verd'ika," soothed br. Ruussan. "No one here doubts you boys are sentient."

 

"Tell that to the kriffing Senate," Fox grumbled before doing a double take. "I'm not a cadet! "

 

"Maybe not," she allowed evenly. "But from what you've said none of you are even old enough for your verdgotten yet." The other Mandalorians jolted as if shocked and looked around at the Vode with new eyes. "From what you said before none of you could be older than, what? Eleven?"

 

Fox seemed to be debating what to say before he sagged with a sigh. "Eleven years four months. I'm the oldest, other than the jet'ika."

 

"Who's the youngest?" Myles blurted curiously.

 

"Fives." Echo was quick to answer and Fives immediately protested. 

 

"By three seconds! You can't hold that over my head till we're marching on!"

 

Echo smirked at him. "Doesn't matter. We could be marching on a thousand years, I'll still have those three seconds."

 

"Wait, wait," Myles sounded and felt positively gleeful. "How old are you two?"

 

"Just turned nine, why?"

 

Something in Jango seemed to catch Myles' train of thought and he started cackling. "Oh ka'ra, Kal! We gotta see his face when he finds out!"

 

If Jango's laughter seemed a bit hysterical, well… Jedi are supposed to be compassionate. She could ignore it. This time.

 

Most of her boys kept bickering as the Mand'alor and his medic tried to get everyone settled down. Br. Ruussan seemed to be just a little warmer and gentler with the Vode than she had at first, although Hardcase still got a smack and called "di'kut" for something something he said. Ahsoka slipped around the edge of the medbay to the small kitchenette by the corner desk and quietly dug through the cupboards, pulling out a mug and some instant cocoa. Another cupboard had thick fluffy blankets in bright colors so she pulled out a red one. By the time she had mixed the cocoa with hot water from the tap Jango's hysterical cackling had trailed off, though he was still hiccupping occasionally. 

 

Fox was tiredly rubbing his brow as she made her way back over with her finds. She set the mug down on one of the little wheeled tables every medbay seemed to have and shook open the folded blanket. Fox jumped again when she wrapped it around his shoulders. Just what had her ori'vod been going through on Coruscant?

 

~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~

 

Ruussan shot the jet'ika an approving smile. These boys needed all the blankets and cocoa…

 

"This doesn't make sense…" she turned to see Kix studying Fox's test results. He looked troubled as he turned to her.  "I know Fix, we were in the same training cycle. He's a good vod, a good medic… he never let anybody get away with being stupid about their health. But this… We're enhanced beyond what most natborns would be capable of and our training was the best available. This!" He gestured to the readout for emphasis, "This is a speeder wreck! There's no way Fix wouldn't have grounded a vod well before things got this bad! Clear signs of chronic stress at worrying levels, and malnutrition! He has to have been skipping meals pretty often…"

 

"Hmmm… He did say Fix cut him off from stims over a day ago. He also said someone called Chem cut him off much more recently. Do you know who that is?"

 

"Not a vod from the early medic classes, I don't recognize the name." Kix shrugged, "of course it could be a vod that didn't have a name before deployment."

 

"Can't take someone off duty if there's no one to replace them with, and we're all ...what did Fix call it, medically karked. Besides, the Chancellor won't let him."

 

Ruu didn't think Fox realized he had said that last part out loud. 

 

"And why is the kriffing Chancellor overriding your medic?!" That wasn't ever a situation any verd should be put in… medics always had final say if it came to their patients health!

 

Fox jumped and looked around the room. "You… you all heard me say that...?" He took a deep breath as if to brace himself. "When the Chancellor calls we don't have any choice but to answer. And it's best to be prompt. Things always go worse for us if we make him wait."

 

Everyone seemed to be once more staring at Fox in mute horror but Fox… 

 

A manic grin spread across his face.

 

"I can talk about it…?" He barked out a  incredulous laugh. "The karking Chancellor is the Sith Lord!" Fox dissolved in peals of hysterical laughter as her medbay once again erupted in noise.

Notes:

Mando'a
Ori'vod = older/bigger sibling
Dar'jetii = Sith (lit. no longer a Jedi)
Haar'chak = damn it
Shabla = fucking
Shabuir = motherfucker
Haran = hell
Osik = shit
Vode = siblings
U'desii verd'ika = easy little soldier
Verdgotten = mandalorian rite of adulthood traditionally undertaken at 13
Jet'ika = little Jedi (padawan)
Ka'ra = stars
Di'kut = fool, idiot, useless

Chapter 7

Summary:

More new/old faces and strange things keep happening!

Mij stomped towards medbay already deeply irritated. Baji Ruu had had him inventorying medical supplies in storage and he hadn't even known the verde had returned from the planet until he'd taken a break for midmeal. 

 

 

And found the mess, which should have been empty, full of gossiping verde cleaning their kit on the mess tables. 

 

 

He'd been halfway through a lecture on manners, hygiene, and food contamination when one of them managed to successfully divert his attention with something much more important. 

 

 

The Mand'alor had returned injured. 

 

 

There were injured and he hadn't been notified. He was one of only two medics on shift and both were meant to be present if there were injured verde. 

 

 

He'd still been ranting about breach of protocol halfway to the medbay.

 

 

He slowed as he got closer and it sounded like there was some kind of commotion in one of the nearby rooms. It couldn't be Baji Ruu's medbay because she said a good medbay should be peaceful and a good baar'ur should enforce that. And Baji Ruu was the best baar'ur. 

 

 

He checked the doors leading up to the medbay, wondering who he was going to have to tell off for causing a disturbance. He quickly came to the impossible conclusion that some jare'la di'kut was disrespecting Baji Ruu.

 

 

Mij saw red. He didn't even wait for the door to open fully before he stormed through with an indignant roar (somewhat ruined by his voice cracking partway through).

 

 

"Nejohaa! This is a medbay and you will be quiet or you will be removed!"

 

 

"What the kriff?!"

 

 

At the first sound of his voice one of the strangers filling the medbay whirled to face him, face paling even as he snapped to attention. Another, looking nearly identical but far more impertinent, moved to intercept Mij.

 

 

"Whoa, back off! Who even-" The verd reached a hand out to grab him and Mij grabbed his wrist and twisted to flip him out the door just like Baji Ruu had shown him.

 

 

Or he tried.

 

 

Instead of obligingly going flying, the verd twisted in his grip to grab Mij's arm instead. Before he could process this change of plans Mij was spinning away to slam his back against something hard and have what felt like durasteel clamps wrap around him before he was lifted off the ground. 

 

 

Mij blinked, trying to process what the kriff just happened, before a voice rumbled far too close behind him.

 

 

"Really Fives? You can't just chuck any mess you get into at me to clean up!"

 

 

The verd who'd assaulted him grinned at him, no behind him, and what kind of name was Fives? "Aw, what's a batchmate for Echo?" Another odd name? Callsigns perhaps?

 

 

"What the kriff?!"

 

 

"Mi'ika please calm down, we had a second medic here so stop worrying about protocol." Belatedly, Mij looked around and saw several more strangers (who nearly all looked very much alike for some reason) standing or sitting around the medbay. The Mand'alor was sitting up in one bed with Jango and Myles nearby. A teenaged togruta was hovering near another stranger who was looking at-

 

 

"How did he even get in here?" Mij turned his attention to the lone blonde, who seemed irritated and tired in the way he'd learned to associate with officers. 

 

 

"All medics have override codes for any door on the ship in case of emergencies," Baji Ruu explained patiently. 

 

 

"Um? It wasn't locked." 

 

 

"... oops?" Mij didn't think most people outside Baji Ruu's medbay got to see their Mand'alor look so sheepish.

 

 

"Can you put me down now?"

 

 

~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~SW~

 

 

"No, seriously… what the actual kriff?!"

 

 

Echo shifted a bit but didn't release the teen just yet. "Are you going to behave yourself now?" The teen (was it really baar'ur Gilamar?) huffed indignantly but Echo was well positioned to see the red creeping up his neck. At the lack of verbal response he shook the medic. "I can do this all day, vod. Me'copaani?" The red had increased almost alarmingly and when he spoke the medics voice was a little high and breathy.

 

 

"Um, you can put me down now. I-if you want."

 

 

Echo blinked. That sounded… no. He shook his head and set the medic down, stepping back to give him space. He tried not to notice the disappointed look, Fives growing look of glee was not the distraction he was looking for however.

 

 

"Fives. Fives, no."

 

 

"No! What the kriff!"

 

 

"Fives yes! He's looking at you like the General looks at his Senator!"

 

 

Echo went to bury his head in his hands but was interrupted by a dissonant bzzzzt that drew everyone's eyes back to Fox.

 

 

Fox who was holding an active Darksaber. 

 

 

"What. The. Kriff." Fox demanded.

 

 

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait, been dealing with life and mental health which take priority by necessity. Also sorry for the short chapter, but Echo didn't want to talk and I figured it was better to just get it out there so I could get to work on chapter 8.

Chapter 8

Summary:

A mysterious different perspective

For a long time they had slept. Their only remaining physical tie had been passed from hand to hand, each seemingly worse than the last, and none with the power to hear them.

 

This last wielder was one of the worst. Not a direct pawn of the dar'jetiise, though they had their suspicions. No, this one sought personal power in the most distasteful of ways. A fanatic who believed his own rhetoric. A bloodthirsty demagolka politician. 

 

They had felt his rage and fear often over the years, and while young Tor carried their kad near religiously, he rarely used it. He'd learned early on how they fought being wielded in dishonorable acts. It had not taken long to see all he did was tainted by his madness and greed and they fought him at every turn.

 

But it had been so very long and they had passed through so many hands they were compelled to resist…

 

Clashing against another kad'au for the first time in centuries had been like ice water thrown in their metaphorical face.

 

The other kad'ause were wielded by a jet'ika who blazed in the Force and when they looked closer… an ember of Manda glowing within, repressed but shielded and nurtured. A foundling padawan. When they again locked with her blades they held with all their will to give her an opening. Instead Tor, used to their resistance, pushed her away and turned to flee.

 

They had not noticed the verd until his fist was already hitting Tor's face, but now… oh how he blazed. The Manda roared through this soul that burned nearly as bright in the Force as the jet'ika, fierce and protective.

 

They tried not to be offended by how he cast them aside, they knew how heavy a burden responsibility could be. Still, they could feel the bond that had begun to form between them. They had always been quick to form bonds, some in the Order had seen it as weakness but it was merely an effect of the Manda in the soul reaching out to form a pack.

 

They cast out their senses, straining to perceive more than just the emotions flowing down the fledgling bond. Their new wielder was worried and so very tired, mind racing disjointedly to find a way around… a block? They looked closer and saw the Dark within, claws and hooks and lines like puppet strings. They knew their physical form was likely vibrating in their rage. This one had been violated by some demagolka dar'jetii. They banked their rage and quickly set about prying loose the connection points as gently as possible. 

 

They could feel the wary hope begin to grow in the mind as they freed it, too absorbed in their task to pay attention to anything beyond freeing this bright mind and burning soul to which they were now bound. When finally they watched the last barbed string of Dark detach and dissipate like a foul gas in steady wind they prepared to rest, content and exhausted. They began to drift back into the Force, content that they would have no need to fight now that they were in trustworthy hands.

 

Then came the sudden panic. The call for a weapon to defend.

 

They did not think, merely reacting. The Force wrapped around their physical form and in an instant they were similarly held by the hand of their wielder. There was a great deal of shouting, but no combat. What was going on?

 

They prodded their wielder with a general sense of query, but seemed to be ignored. They prodded more insistently as the shouting turned to a short scuffle. They cast out their senses. 

 

There was something…

 

Something is coming.

 

 

Notes:

Life kinda got away from me for a while and this was originally supposed to be only half of the next chapter..
But I figured everyone has been waiting long enough I should show that it hasn't been abandoned.

I'm just going to be working on a side story to flesh out a group of new OCs that will be showing up next (along with a few canon characters)

Notes:

Mando'a:
Aruetii - outsider, traitor (from the root arue = enemies)
Buir - parent
Kry'stad - Death Watch (lit. Death Society)
Verde - soldiers (can also be used as a general term for adults)
Osik - dung (very rude)
Narudar - enemy of my enemy
Vod - sibling
Buy'ce - helmet
Jet'ika - "little Jedi", padawan
Dha'kad - the Darksaber