The Rise of the Phoenix

by Arm1niu5

Summary:

The ancient Clan Jansek of House Kryze had been one of the most prestigious and well-known clans before the Mandalorian Civil War between the pacifists and the martial traditionalists; its lineage tracing back at least to the later years of the Taungs. This is the story of Karel Jansek, a man whose birth had given hope to a clan ravaged by war, and whose journeys across the galaxy would go on to make him a legend among his people.

Notes:

Hello everyone. I started writing this story a few years ago as a backstory for a Mandalorian costume I'm making, and I later decided that sharing it here might be a good idea. A few friends have helped me write this since english is not my native tongue, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes I might make since this is also the first story I write. This story will follow the canon timeline (though I might include some Legends details here and there) from a few years before the battle of Naboo, through the Clone Wars and the Imperial Era and all the way up to the rise and fall of the First Order. I hope you like it!

This is a reupload since I originally dump posted my story in one go. I will upload the story one chapter at a time, chapter being an individual post and not an arc. I will try to post one chapter a day and hopefully in a little over a month the story will catch up with FFN where you can also find me under the same name.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Tragedy

39 BBY, Sundari, capital city of Mandalore

 

A year had passed since the latest in a long list of Mandalorian Civil Wars had come to an end. The four-year-long conflict between the New Mandalorians and the martial traditionalists had been particularly devastating. Many clans had been decimated and some of the smaller ones had been entirely destroyed in a war that seemed like it would never end, leaving Clan Jansek with only two options: to keep fighting alongside the traditionalists and risk extinction, or to change sides and ally with the New Mandalorians in a bid to survive. They chose the latter.

 

The ancient Clan Jansek of House Kryze had been one of the most prestigious and well-known clans before the war; its lineage tracing back at least to the later years of the Taungs. Now it was reduced to less than fifty members, with about half a dozen of them living on Mandalore to represent the clan in Duchess Kryze's new government and the rest living in their ancestral home of Belsak. Yet despite all of these tragedies, hope still lived on in Clan Jansek as they welcomed their newest member, the first one since the war. The newborn laid on his mother's arms as she sat on her bed after giving birth to him, an exhausted but joyful smile appearing as she looked at the boy she held in her arms.

 

"He's beautiful," her husband Hamar whispered in her ear, trying not to wake up the baby. Both smiled at their son sleeping peacefully.

 

"He is. What should we name him?" she asked as she turned to face her husband.

 

"What about... 'Orar'?"

 

"No, it doesn't sound good." She turned back to her son as she rocked him in her arms.

 

"Then what about 'Karel'?"

 

"Karel." She repeated the name and after a moment she smiled again at her son. "Welcome to the Mandalorians, Karel."

 

Hamar put an arm around his wife's shoulders, hugging her from the side as he rested his head on top of hers. A few moments later an older man with grey hair and tan skin appeared at the room's entrance. His old but strong frame instilled respect and fear in equal measure to anyone. Unsurprising considering he was the leader and Count of Clan Jansek, and now a proud ba'buir.

 

"Am I interrupting something?" He looked at the happy couple with their newborn child.

 

"Not at all, buir, come on in," the younger man said as he motioned his father to take a closer look. He walked to stand on the opposite side of the bed facing the new parents, the look on his face one of pure joy.

 

"How are you feeling, Asha?" the older man asked the mother.

 

"Much better now," she replied calmly as she looked at her son sleeping peacefully.

 

"What's his name?" He leaned to see the baby was a boy.

 

"Toruk, meet Karel," she said smiling at her father-in-law before looking back at her son. "Karel, this is Toruk, your grandfather."

 

"Can I hold him?" Toruk asked, trying to sound calm but was unable to keep the excitement in his voice from escaping. Asha carefully passed him the baby wrapped in a white blanket. He examined his grandson's face closely before looking up to his son Hamar. "He has your mother's smile."

 

"And his mother's hair," Hamar replied. Toruk passed him the baby as he started to open his eyes and he turned to look at his wife. "His eyes are just like yours, too."

 

"Is there anything he took from you?" she joked and Toruk and Hamar laughed quietly, the latter returning his son to his mother's arms.

 

"He has my lips and my ears," he boasted as the baby woke up from his sleep and was about to cry, but he stayed quiet as the warmth of his mother's arms reassured him that he was safe.

 

A new Mandalorian had been born, and his birth had given hope for halcyon days to an entire clan ravaged by a war they never even wanted to be a part of. For better or for worse, his birth had sparked a new era for Clan Jansek.

 

---

 

32 BBY, Jansek Stronghold, Belsak

 

Not all Mandalorians were actually born on Mandalore itself, even if they all considered Mandalore their home. Mandalorian Space was massive and each house had control over vast territories which were then subdivided into smaller ones ruled by the clans of each house. Such was the case for the planet of Belsak in the system of the same name; ancestral home of Clan Jansek.

 

Belsak's terrain consisted of mountainous regions dotted with evergreen forests, with a climate similar to that of Krownest. As such, its mountains provided a natural defense as well as an excellent training ground for any warriors. The clan's stronghold was built among the tallest mountains of the planet, where the relative lack of oxygen and constant training would help build endurance and teach survival skills in the surrounding rough terrain. Although Karel was not meant to be a warrior, his family had decided to raise him to be a strong man capable of defending himself and his people. Almost as soon as he learned to walk he would go on hikes around the estate's forests, usually accompanied by his mother who taught him his earliest lessons, as was customary for Mandalorians. The new government had made it clear that all warriors would be exiled to Mandalore's moon of Concordia. However, no one could deny that every clan should be able to defend itself from any external threats. The recently appointed Duchess was quite close to Clan Jansek and was certain that they wouldn't betray her, so she decided to visit them and see for herself before reaching any conclusions.

 

"Being a pacifist doesn't mean you don't know how to fight, it means you don't look for a fight. But you should always be capable of defending yourself and your loved ones. If I recall correctly, you yourself are quite capable with a blaster should the situation demand it, your Grace." Toruk explained as they walked around the stronghold; and she couldn't deny that his words were somewhat true. Sometimes that fight will find you no matter what, and when it does you'd better be prepared to fight it to protect what you hold dear.

 

"I know, Toruk. It's just that some people can't seem to understand that there are other options besides violence, and not a lot of people tend to listen to you when you're my age. Everyone thinks I'm too young to lead and that I don't know what I'm doing, but I know very well that all that this constant war has brought us is nothing more than suffering and death."

 

She poured out all her frustrations as she finally had a rest from the constant bickering between her ministers. Toruk had been one of her earliest mentors and she knew that she could always turn to him when she needed advice, not to mention that his clan had lost many good men and women fighting for her cause.

 

"Ma'am, not everyone has the courage to take on a responsibility as big as you have, and you have my respect for that. If anyone can lead us to a better tomorrow, it's you. I'd do it myself but I'm afraid I'm too old for that." He joked to try to cheer her up and she laughed before smiling at him, thankful of his support.

 

"Thank you, Toruk. I'm sorry I ever doubted you," she replied, ashamed of her own fears of betrayal.

 

"Not to worry, Duchess," he replied, deeming the topic closed before yelling at the trees in front of them. "Karel, come down here, we have a guest!"

 

"I'm coming!" a voice responded.

 

Nobody could deny that the boy was in peak physical condition as he climbed down a veshok tree and ran down a mountain slope without breaking a sweat, while the Duchess' guards were panting just from walking up the small mound they were standing on. Covered in dirt and leaves, the boy hugged his ba'buir before turning to meet the new guest.

 

"Su'cuy! I'm Karel. Who are you?" he asked as he extended a hand to the Duchess and grinned. Before she could answer him, Toruk spoke.

 

"Karel, be more respectful, bu'ad. This is Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore. She's the leader of our people," he said, slightly embarrassed at the boy's lack of manners.

 

"I thought you were our leader," the boy replied, confused.

 

"I'm the leader of our clan, she is the leader of all Mandalorians," his grandfather explained.

 

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know that." Karel nervously apologized before bowing to the Duchess, still ignoring the leaf that was caught in his hair, which caused her to giggle at the boy's innocence.

 

"It's alright, Karel. You like being in the nature, don't you?" she asked as she picked the leaf from his hair.

 

"Yeah!" he replied enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear.

 

"Well, aren't you a little too young to be in the forests on your own? You could get lost." The Duchess crossed her arms as if admonishing him like she was his mother.

 

"No, I know where I'm going. Besides, I'm not alone; my family takes care of me. They taught me to be in the forest. I'll be fine," he said.

 

"Karel, go take a bath and get changed for dinner," Toruk interjected, trying to stop this embarrassment in front of the Duchess, but was nonetheless amused by his grandson. "Your parents will be back soon and they won't be happy seeing you like that."

 

"But I already took a bath this morning," the boy replied whimpering.

 

"Karel..." his grandfather shot back with a stern look on his face. Karel groaned in frustration and slouched his shoulders and head as he entered the mansion. Satine and Toruk looked at the door as it closed before resuming their walk.

 

"My apologies, your Grace. He is a bit overenthusiastic and not one for formalities. You know how kids are," Toruk said, trying to explain his grandson's less than appropriate behavior.

 

"No need to apologize, Toruk. That is a really promising child, you must be proud." She smiled as she remembered how similar she was in her childhood not too long ago.

 

"Very much so. That kid has brought our entire clan a new hope," he said, glad of the Duchess' understanding and indeed proud of his grandson. Although Karel was just seven years old he was extraordinary for his age; a strong and enthusiastic boy with a quick mind, keen senses, and with one distinctive trait: he wasn't afraid of anything. Toruk couldn't have asked for a better grandson.

 

"And I am certain he won't disappoint," she affirmed before they switched their talk to other topics regarding Mandalore's current political situation.

 

A few moments later, Hamar and Asha returned from a visit to Mandalore in MandalMotors' most recent and quite controversial creation, a Lancer-class pursuit craft. Secretly commissioned by Black Sun for use in their criminal empire, the Lancer was a fast, tough and reliable workhorse and had quickly become a favorite for beings from all walks of life. And indeed it was Hamar's favorite design. He knew that ship better than anyone since he had been in charge of its design as Chief Engineer of MandalMotors' Research & Development Department. This particular unit, named the Gray Hawk by Hamar, was actually one of the first units produced and was his personal starship. After a brief conversation, the group went back inside to have dinner, with Karel joining them soon afterwards. He was quiet through most of the meal, and after it was over his parents took him to his room to tuck him in bed. However, as his mother kissed him goodnight, she noticed a small gash on his cheek.

 

"Karel, why do you have that cut on your face? Were you playing alone in the woods again?" his mother asked, worried. She knew that he would sometimes wander the forest by himself. The wound wasn't serious by any means, but that didn't stop her from holding his face and checking the wound from various angles.

 

"Sorry. I heard you wanted to make uj cake so I went to go get some nuts," he replied as he tried to free himself from his mother's grasp.

 

"Were you stealing food from a vhe'viin again?" Asha asked as she took out a small jar of bacta salve from Karel's nightstand and rubbed some of it over the wound. It was just a precaution, but it wasn't a big problem; although it seemed like a small scar would still form nonetheless.

 

"Karel, how many times have we told you it's not right to steal? Even if it's from an animal," Hamar said to his son with a harsh tone, crossing his arms as he stood next to the bed opposite his wife.

 

"I didn't steal it! They were hanging from a tree and I took them, but apparently it saw them too. It was a bad loser and attacked me. But I didn't steal them, I just got them first. I'm sorry if I worried you. Please don't be mad. And please don't blame ba'buir. I promise he didn't know anything about the vhe'viin, he just knew I was in the forest." His parents were a bit angered by the situation but pleased that he took responsibility for his actions. Karel was an honest kid with good intentions, so after looking at each other for a moment his parents decided that there was no need for further action.

 

"Just don't scare us like that again, okay?" Asha said as she hugged her son tightly.

 

"I won't," he replied, smiling at his mother as she started pecking his face with little kisses, causing him to start giggling and squirming. After giving their son a kiss on the forehead and wishing him good night, the couple left to go to sleep, but Karel had one request.

 

"Mom, can you sing me a song?" Karel asked his mother as she stood in the doorframe.

 

"I don't think you deserve it after getting into a fight with a vhe'viin for some nuts," she replied with a laugh.

 

"Awww, please..." he said with a puppy face, quivering his bottom lip and with his hands intertwined.

 

"Alright, but you'll have to help me to make the uj cake tomorrow," she replied as he shouted in excitement. She sat down on the side of his bed and started singing him an old Alderaanian lullaby she knew. Whenever Karel couldn't sleep as a baby, she would sing him the same song and it would always calm him down.

    "Mirrorbright, shines the moon, its glow as soft as an ember
    When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember
    Those you have loved but are gone
    Those who kept you so safe and warm
    The mirrorbright moon lets you see
    Those who have ceased to be
    Mirrorbright shines the moon, as fires die to their embers
    Those you loved are with you still—
    The moon will help you remember."

 

"Good night, Mom," Karel muttered with a yawn, before falling asleep with a smile on his face.

 

"Good night, ad'ika."

 

She kissed him lightly on the forehead and pulled the covers up to his neck. She quietly stood up and left the room, taking one last look at her son sleeping peacefully before she turned off the lights and left, closing the door.

 

---

 

A few months later, Death Watch hideout, Concordia

 

Although the New Mandalorians had rejected Mandalore's warrior ways and instead became pacifists like the Alderaanians and the Naboo, there were still those who clung to the old ways. Exiled to Mandalore's moon of Concordia, the remaining warriors had initially fought each other for control of the moon before uniting under the banner of Death Watch, known in Mando'a as Kyr'tsad, and swearing vengeance on the New Mandalorians and their allies. Believing that Mandalore should return to its warrior ways as conquerors of the galaxy, one of the first tasks set by Death Watch was to purge those they considered traitorous and a disgrace to what it means to be a Mandalorian, instantly making an enemy out of Clan Jansek in the process.

 

Somewhere within the abandoned mines of Concordia, a Death Watch warrior entered a bunker where the Death Watch's secret leader, Governor of Concordia Pre Vizsla, awaited to strike on Clan Jansek. Silently, the warrior kneeled in front of Vizsla.

 

"Sir, all our forces are ready to attack as you ordered," he said. He didn't look up, and kept his head down.

 

"And the bomber?" Vizsla asked without lifting his gaze from the holotable he was looking at.

 

"In position," the warrior said before standing up. "And all the targets are in their embassy as our intel suggested."

 

A small smile appeared on Vizsla's face as he looked up from the table. "Detonate the bomb in Sundari just before you commence your attack on their stronghold," he said as he turned back to the table where he examined the hologram of Jansek Stronghold. "Those cowards became nothing more than traitors when they turned on us and sided with the Duchess and her weak-willed pacifists. An example must be made. They will pay for their treachery with their blood. Do you understand?"

 

"Yes, sir," the warrior said, nodding before turning to leave; but he stopped when Vizsla spoke again.

 

"One more thing. The boy is the future of Clan Jansek. Do what you must," Vizsla said as he leaned into the table and looked at his warrior with a dangerous smile. The man didn't speak at first. He slowly turned his head and nodded.

 

"It will be done, sir," he said, quickly turning his head back to the front before leaving the bunker.

 

**********

 

30 minutes later, Jansek Stronghold, Belsak

 

"Careful, ad'ika. You don't want to put too much pressure or you'll damage the entire mechanism," Hamar said. He sat on Karel's bed as he watched him tinkering with a broken chronometer, having clearly inherited his love for engineering from his father.

 

"I know, Dad. Can I go help you with the ship when I'm done with this?" Karel asked.

 

"Sure. The company just gave me a new experimental hyperdrive to test and you're helping me install it," Hamar replied. Karel smiled before going back to work on the chrono. Neither of them noticed Asha leaning against the door frame.

 

"How are my two favorite engineers in the galaxy?" she joked, entering the room to kiss her husband, followed by a disgusted growl from Karel before she leaned down to hug him and plant a kiss on his forehead. After working on the device for a few more minutes Karel passed it to his father, who inspected his work rigorously before approving it with a smile and ruffling his hair affectionately. The family then made its way through the mansion where they ran into Toruk and started talking in the hallways. Then a man appeared with a datapad in his hand.

 

"Sir, there's been an explosion in our headquarters in Sundari!" the man yelled as he rushed over to Toruk and handed him the datapad.

 

"What?" Toruk asked, shocked, reading the datapad in a hurry. He gasped in horror as he saw the pictures of the building now reduced to a pile of rubble with bodies spread across the site.

 

"Yes, sir. There was an explosion five minutes ago. There were no survivors..." the man added, almost in a whisper. Before Toruk could respond, a woman came rushing from the other side of the hallway with another datapad in her hand.

 

"Sir, three unidentified ships have entered the atmosphere. They've made no attempt to identify themselves and they don't respond to our transmissions," the woman explained as she showed him the datapad. Silence filled the hallways for a moment before realization dawned on Toruk.

 

"We're under attack! Take defensive positions," Toruk ordered them, before turning to his son and his family. "You three have to get out of here."

 

"But I just removed my ship's hyperdrive. We have no time to install it," Hamar replied.

 

"Take my shuttle. Hurry!" his father said. The four of them ran to the main entrance of the building. As the Aka'jor-class shuttle was landing to pick them up, a volley of blaster fire and missiles coming from the clouds landed on the clearing outside of the stronghold. One of the rockets landed directly on top of the shuttle and the explosion knocked them back, killing many members of the clan that were standing nearby but leaving the family mostly unharmed.

 

"Get to the bunker. You'll be safe there. Don't open the doors until this is over," Toruk ordered as he stood and picked up two WESTAR-20 blaster pistols that were laying next to one of the men killed in the explosion.

 

"And what about you?" Hamar asked as he helped his wife and son stand up.

 

"I'll hold them off. You have to protect your family," Toruk replied, pressing a pistol to his son's chest.

 

"You are my family! I'm not leaving you here," Hamar replied as his eyes started to water.

 

"You're not leaving anyone, we're covering you," Toruk insisted as he hugged his son and his daughter-in-law, telling them something Karel was too shocked to listen to. Toruk kneeled to face the boy and dropped the other pistol on the ground. He took the boy's head in his hands, lifted his gaze and looked into his eyes. "Karel, listen to me. You are a Mandalorian. You are a warrior. Everything that we are lives in you. As long as you remember who you are and where you come from, you'll never be alone. Do you understand?"

 

"I-I..." Karel stuttered, confused and scared, not knowing what to do. Toruk grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him before bringing his hands to his cheeks again.

 

"Karel. Do you understand?!" Toruk asked again. Karel looked into his grandfather's eyes and managed to calm himself.

 

"I understand," the boy replied, fixing at his grandfather with a determined look.

 

"Good," Toruk whispered, then sighed in defeat. He knew that this would be his end, but if he was going to die he would do it fighting to protect what he loved. A death fit for a Mandalorian. Toruk hugged his grandson tightly one last time before looking up to see three ships preparing for another attack, surrounded by dozens of jetpack-equipped Mandalorian warriors.

 

"Go! Now!" Toruk ordered, as Hamar picked up Karel to carry him back into the mansion.

 

As they walked up the stairs, Karel lifted his gaze to see his grandfather looking directly at him. His expression was... confusing. He seemed almost at peace, yet still determined to go out with a fight. His eyes shone with the ferocity of a shriek-hawk, yet also gave the serenity of looking into space. Giving his grandson one last sad smile, Toruk turned to face the oncoming onslaught, ready for what would no doubt be the last glorious moments of his life. As the door closed, Karel felt a single tear run down his cheek.

 

The family rushed through the building, past the throne room and into the armory. Asha punched in a code on the control panel in the wall and it opened, revealing a secret passage. The three hurried into the tunnel with no time to close off the entrance behind them as they heard footsteps nearby. They ran through the hidden passage until they reached a turbolift, which led to a vast chamber built 100 meters underground. Inside the chamber lay a vault whose purpose was to hold the most prized possessions of Clan Jansek, as well as serving as an emergency bunker capable of withstanding the blast of a hundred megaton plasma bomb. As they rushed towards the bunker, a hissing sound came from the turbolift and Hamar sought cover behind a support pillar while his wife and son stayed behind some stacked crates. The turbolift door opened and a single male warrior in Mandalorian armor and a dark blue flight suit emerged. The man started looking around the chamber and walked to the center of it, hitting his helmet as his communications had trouble working so deep underground. After a few moments it became clear that he wouldn't leave soon, so Hamar decided to distract him while his family got to safety.

 

"You get in the bunker, I'll get his attention," Hamar whispered to Asha, who shook her head in rejection to his idea. "It's the only way."

 

"We'll see you inside," she whispered to him. Hamar passed her the blaster Toruk had given him, then kissed his wife briefly before moving out from his cover to find a better place from where to ambush the warrior. Asha took it before turning to face her son who she had instructed to stay quiet.

 

"Follow me and don't stop for anything," she ordered as she held him by the shoulders. Karel nodded as he and his mother waited for Hamar to distract the warrior. He silently climbed one of the pillars and reached a catwalk behind the man. Hamar jumped and pinned him to the ground as his wife and son started running to the blast doors of the vault and she started typing the access code. The fight was mostly even but the warrior slowly gained the upper hand. The blast door unlocked with a hiss, which drew the attention of the armored warrior as he found the target he came for. The man, laying on his back as Hamar tried to subdue him, gave him a headbutt and managed to free one leg which he used to kick Hamar off of him. Standing up, he unholstered his right blaster to fire on the boy. Hamar tackled him back to the ground, knocking the weapon out of his hand and making the shot hit the blast door as it opened instead.

 

"Get in the vault!" Hamar yelled, struggling against the warrior who was now pinned against a support pillar.

 

Hamar planted a trio of punches on his exposed ribs before the man hit him with a knee strike to the stomach. The warrior then grabbed Hamar by the collar of his tunic and struck him with a headbutt before switching their positions. He slammed Hamar against the same pillar before punching him repeatedly and throwing him against a stack of boxes, knocking him out.

 

"Dad!" Karel yelled. He released himself from his mother's grasp as he instinctively ran to his father's aid, disregarding his mother's orders.

 

"Karel, wait!" Asha yelled to her son, running after him.

 

Jumping on the warrior as he turned, Karel managed to wrap his legs around the man's chest and planted several punches on his throat with as much force as he could muster. The man seemed almost unfazed by this, however, and after being stunned for a few seconds, he grabbed Karel by the sides before tossing him to the ground. He unholstered his other blaster and readied to fire on the boy as Asha fired a shot at the man which went stray, but distracted him enough to turn his attention on her. She approached the warrior to engage him, and her blaster fell next to Karel, who froze not knowing what to do. As the two battled for control of the remaining blaster, the weapon fired.

 

"Mom!" Karel shouted before picking up her blaster and firing three shots at the man, two to the chest and one to the head, killing him instantly.

 

Asha looked down to see two burn marks in her chest as she pressed her hands against it. She turned to look at her son one last time, who was staring in horror at her with tears in his eyes.

 

"Karel..." she whispered. She took a few steps back and collapsed on the floor, having died to protect her son.

 

"Mom... Mom!" Karel yelled in disbelief. He tossed the blaster away, running to his mother's side as his father started to regain consciousness.

 

"What? Karel? Asha?" Hamar muttered as he took in the situation. "Asha!" he yelled as he ran to her and saw his son crying desperately next to his dead mother. He fell to his knees next to his son and started sobbing. "How? How did..."

 

"It's... It's my fault. That man... tried to kill you. I ran to help you and she... I'm sorry," Karel muttered between sniffs as he cried desperately, feeling responsible for his own mother's death.

 

Hamar hugged his son to comfort him, but there wasn't much he could do. They stayed there for a moment before entering the bunker, taking the bodies of Asha and the warrior with them and remotely closing the hidden passage to stop anyone else from entering the chamber. Inside the vault, Hamar settled his wife's body on top of an empty table. He closed her eyes with his palm and kissed her on the forehead.

 

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la, ner cyar'ika," Hamar whispered, covering his wife's body with a blanket as he did. He turned to his son who was at his side, his eyes on the brink of tears once again.

 

**********

 

When they rose from the bunker the next morning, the sight was truly horrifying. They found Toruk's body laying on the snow in the small clearing in front of the mansion with multiple blaster shots all over his body, having no doubt fought until his last dying breath to protect his family. Throughout the next two days they gathered the bodies of all their fallen clansmen and cremated them in silence, all but Toruk and Asha. They buried them on a hill overlooking the stronghold, using parts from the shuttle's wreckage as headstones. On the third day they managed to send a message to Mandalore and reinstall the hyperdrive of the Gray Hawk, which was safely stored at the stronghold's underground hangar. They returned to Mandalore and informed the Duchess of the attack before turning over the body of the Death Watch warrior. Horrified and devastated, she ordered an investigation into the events and demanded that it become the chief concern of the Mandalorian Guard. The following day, the body and armor of the man disappeared from the police records and the investigation was left unsolved shortly after. Now convinced that the New Mandalorians had failed him and his family, Hamar quit his job and left Mandalore with his son. They returned to Belsak to retrieve his old armor that he used during the war. Once a warrior, then a pacifist, and now a man responsible for raising a child in a dangerous galaxy all by himself.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Savior

30 BBY, Wawaatt Archipielago, Kashyyyk

 

Becoming a bounty hunter and mercenary after leaving the New Mandalorians, Hamar quickly made a name for himself as a deadly and skilled fighter. That, plus his reputation as one of the best warriors during the Mandalorian Civil War, had even earned him the respect of Jango Fett, who tried to recruit him to train the new clone army on Kamino in secret. Hamar, however, politely refused Jango's offer, stating that his priority was raising his son as a Mandalorian. For almost two years they traveled across the galaxy. Though Mandalorian children usually didn't begin their training until the age of eight, Hamar decided to begin training his son in the traditional Mandalorian warrior ways shortly after they left Belsak. Learning the warrior history of his people and training as one, Karel adapted surprisingly well to his new life. Being a Mandalorian led to Karel understanding death better than most kids his age. This, plus the constant mood swings typical of human children his age, led to him being mostly the same kid as before. Though the nightmares of that fateful day always came back, the bittersweet memories of his family helped him deal with his losses as he trained to become like his father.

 

"Buir. Why are we here? I thought we would go train with the Wookiees," Karel complained, sweating as they maneuvered through the jungles of Kashyyyk.

 

"We are, but first we have to show them we're friends," his father answered, unaffected thanks to his armor's environmental control systems.

 

"And how exactly are we going to do that when we don't even speak the same language as the walking carpets?!" Karel asked, flailing his arms in the air in clear irritation at the environment. His father hadn't given him armor yet.

 

"I know Shyriiwook. As for how we get them to trust us, we give them a peace offering. Wookiees like to eat a species called mykal; they consider it a delicacy. All we have to do is hunt one and get it to the local chieftain." Hamar paused to turn at his son in anger. "And what did I say about calling them that?"

 

"Sorry. So how do we catch that mykal thing?" the boy asked, embarrassed by his outburst. Hamar turned back again and kept walking, his son close behind him.

 

"The mykal attacks its prey by diving from the air. I was going to let you be the one who took it down," Hamar replied. He smirked as he found the perfect punishment for his son's behavior. "But now you're going to be the bait."

 

"I deserved that," Karel grumbled in frustration.

 

Arriving at a small clearing, they set a trap for the mykal and waited in silence with Karel acting as bait. Soon enough, a mykal swooped down on the boy. Karel barely had time to get down and avoid the attack, while his father quickly fired his whipcord thrower and caught the creature by the legs. He pulled the beast down and slammed it against a nearby tree, stunning it long enough for him to kill the creature. After securing their hunt, which Hamar ordered Karel to carry, they made their way to the coastal city of Kachirho. They were stopped by a group of five Wookiees that were not very enthusiastic about outsiders desecrating their forests. After a brief and unsuccessful negotiation with the natives, the five Wookiees started circling the two of them.

 

"Uhm, Dad... Are you sure they like this thing?" Karel asked.

 

"This wasn't part of the plan. Stay behind me!" Hamar ordered as he drew his axe with his right hand and the blade in his left gauntlet sprung forward.

 

"What's that?" Karel asked, pointing at a white figure soaring through the skies.

 

Hamar and the Wookiees turned to look at the silhouette, which now appeared to be circling them from above. As the creature disappeared back into the clouds, the Wookiees looked at each other in confusion before kneeling to the two Mandalorians. One of the Wookiees approached Karel, barking in greeting as he extended a hairy hand to offer his help in carrying the mykal. Karel handed him the creature and the group began walking to Kachirho, but Karel was still confused.

 

"Where are they taking us? And why did they kneel?" Karel asked his father.

 

"They are taking us to their chieftain. What you saw in the clouds was a shyyyo bird. Spotting one is so rare that it was once thought to be just a legend. The Wookiees consider the shyyyo bird their protector."

 

A few minutes later, they arrived at Kachirho, where they were greeted with suspicion by the inhabitants, before being led into Tree Kachirho, the wroshyr tree that served as the home of the Chieftain. Inside the tree was what appeared to be a throne room, of sorts. The place was filled with adult Wookiees, all about twice as tall as Karel and half a meter taller than his father. They all surrounded a single male one at the end of the room. His hair was dark brown with patches of tan and he wore armor on the chest and shoulders. The dark-haired Wookiee walked up to the newcomers and extended a hand for Hamar to shake. The Mandalorian took off his helmet and introduced himself and his son. The Wookiee then turned his gaze to Karel and walked towards him.

 

"Karel, this is Tarfful. He's the chieftain of this city," Hamar explained, noticing how his son was visibly frightened by the whole ordeal.

 

"H-Hi, I'm Karel," he said, grinning nervously and extending a hand. Tarfful knelt to a height more comfortable for the boy and shook his hand before placing his own on the boy's shoulders and growling close to his face.

 

"What did he say?" Karel asked, looking at his father.

 

"He says he's thankful for the mykal and that we are welcome here," Hamar translated as Tarfful growled again, this time at Hamar before looking at the boy again. "And that he wants to talk to us about the shyyyo bird you saw."

 

Later that night, Tarfful invited Hamar and Karel for nightmeal as his personal guests. During the meal he apologized for his warriors' hostility and explained the reason behind it. For twenty years now the Trade Federation's interest in Kashyyyk and its colonies had been increasing, and they had steadily gained more control over the planet's resources, going so far as to establish a mining operation that had severely damaged the local ecosystem. The Wookiees' pleas to the Republic had fallen on deaf ears, since the Trade Federation had such political and economical power that any attempt to openly defy them would result in terrible consequences for the natives. As such, the Wookiees had no other option but to submit to the Trade Federation outwardly, while resisting them inwardly and in secret. The situation was further complicated by the fact that the Trandoshans, longtime rivals of the Wookiees, were aiding the Trade Federation. As such any public act of violence against them by the Wookiees would be seen as an act of violence against the Trade Federation, thereby allowing the Trandoshans to oppress the Wookiees without fear of repercussions.

 

"And what does that have to do with us?" Karel asked, confused, before Tarrful growled again and his father translated for him.

 

"The shyyyo bird you saw. In Wookiee culture, sighting one is considered a symbol of peace. They believe we were destined to come here and help them restore that peace," Hamar explained, taking a long sip from his drink before turning to speak to the Chieftain. "We'll help you," he said, not a hint of hesitation in his voice. Tarfful growled again in thanks and indicated his captain, Merumeru, to take Hamar to scout the mining site later that night.

 

"Wait, us? I thought we were here to train me," Karel said, confused that the purpose of this trip had so suddenly changed.

 

"We are, but right now these people need our help," Hamar replied, silently indicating with a stern look that his son shouldn't discuss the matter anymore. After the meal was over, Hamar and Karel were given a guest room inside the tree. Finally alone, Karel asked his father about the recent change of events.

 

"Why do we have to help them?" he asked, as Hamar counted the power packs on his belt pouches.

 

"Because they need our help," Hamar stated, plainly.

 

"But you don't help everyone that needs your help, only the ones that pay you to help them," Karel reasoned, confused by his father's behavior. Hamar turned to face his son as he holstered his blasters. He kneeled to his height and grabbed him by the shoulders.

 

"This is different, ad'ika. These people need help and we are the only ones that can help them. The greatest warrior fights not for personal gain or glory, but because it is the right thing to do. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

 

"Not really," Karel muttered, looking at the ground.

 

"Someday you will," Hamar said, before hugging his son. "I have to go. I'll be back in a few hours; I promise," he said, before standing up to leave the room. "And don't give the Wookiees too much trouble," he added as he stepped out of the room to go on his scouting mission.

 

"I won't!" Karel said, before turning his attention to the room he was standing in. He started admiring every small detail and the expert craftsmanship that must have gone into carving the spacious room with extreme patience. After trying to sleep unsuccessfully for a few minutes, Karel went outside to try to calm himself. He found a tree branch not too far and sat on it as he observed the night sky. Karel pulled out a small holoprojector and a picture of his family came to life. Hamar and Asha stood smiling side-by-side with an arm around each other's waists and their hands on each of Karel's shoulders. He sat in front of them on a chair, while Toruk stood behind his parents, grinning as he hugged his son and daughter-in-law. A tear rolled down his cheek as he watched the family portrait.

 

He looked up to the see the stars and all three of Kashyyyk's moons without deactivating the holoprojector. Just then, a low purr came from behind, and Karel quickly switched the device off. He turned to see a Wookiee standing a few meters behind him. It wasn't an adult like most of the ones he had seen until now; it was a pup, not much taller than himself and probably around the same age, too. Their hair was the same dark brown color as their eyes except for a few patches of black and by what Karel could see it looked to be a male.

 

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't see you there," Karel said, stuttering as the Wookiee growled what Karel assumed to be an apology. "Are you apologizing?" he asked. The Wookiee nodded before looking down in embarrassment for his intrusion.

 

"It's okay. I'm not angry with you or anything like that. What's your name?" he asked. The Wookiee answered with a growl and a purr, reminding Karel that he didn't understand the Wookiee.

 

"Sorry, I forgot. I don't understand you. Only my father does," he explained. The Wookiee thought for a moment before pulling a sheet of flimsi and a stylus from his bag. He wrote some characters on the flimsi in Basic and showed it to Karel.

 

"'Grorkhal'? Is that your name?" Karel asked. The Wookiee nodded fervently and Karel smiled at his new friend. "I'm Karel," he added as he shook the Wookie's hand. They sat together on the branch. Grorkhal wrote on the flimsi again, this time the word 'Mandalorian.'

 

"Yes, we're Mandalorians," Karel said with a laugh. Grorkhal looked confused and wrote the word 'Armor.'

 

"Are you asking about my armor?" Karel asked, and the Wookiee nodded.

 

"I don't have mine yet; my dad said I have to earn it first. That's why we came here. The plan was to ask you to help train me, but I guess the plan has changed," Karel explained. Grorkhal wrote another word, 'Why.'

 

"I don't know. My dad talked to your chieftain, Tarfful, I think, and said we would help you with something about a mine. Apparently it has something to do with me seeing some white bird."

 

Grorkhal stared in disbelief and quickly wrote again; 'Shyyyo.'

 

"Yes, sorry. It was a shyyyo bird. What's so special about it? My dad and Tarfful said it was some sort of sign and that it's your protector or something like that," the human explained, confused. The Wookiee wrote again, this time, 'Savior'.

 

"Savior? What is it going to save you from?" he asked, confused. Grorkhal didn't write anything, but instead pointed at him, smiling as much as was possible for a Wookiee. "From me?"

 

Grorkhal shook his head and wrote, 'You savior.'

 

"Wait. I'm your savior?" he asked, now more confused than ever. Grorkhal didn't answer and instead hugged the Mandalorian boy so tightly Karel thought he wanted to crush him. Just as he thought his ribs were about to break, Grorkhal released him and he panted for air. "Look, I'm really confused now. Let's go back inside, and then you can explain to me what's going on here. Okay?" he asked. Gorkhal nodded fervently and pulled Karel down the tree. They walked back inside and reached the guest quarters, where Karel handed him a datapad. The Wookiee started explaining the history of the shyyyo bird to him in more depth.

 

"Wait. Are you sure I'm your savior? I'm pretty sure my dad is more fit for that."

 

Grorkhal shook his head and wrote on the datapad, explaining that the savior is the one who sights the shyyyo bird, not the one accompanying him.

 

"Well this is great!" Karel exclaimed sarcastically. He sighed and buried his face in his hands, "Can we talk about something else please? This is too much to process in a single day." Grorkhal did not speak, instead nodding in understanding before they began playing on the datapad. Sometime later, Hamar returned from his scouting mission to find his son sitting on his bed next to a Wookiee youngling. Karel lifted his gaze from the datapad to address his father.

 

"Oh. Hi, Dad. This is Grorkhal. I met him today. Grorkhal, this is my father," Karel said, introducing his friend as he walked over to hug his father.

 

"Nice to meet you, Grorkhal," said Hamar, smiling as he did so. The Wookiee bowed to the man respectfully as he stood next to Karel. "Well, you two were having fun, weren't you?"

 

"Yeah..." Karel replied, nervously scratching the back of his head.

 

"Well I hate to ruin it, but you should be sleeping right now. I'm pretty sure Grorkhal's parents will be worried, too," Hamar said, chuckling. The two younglings waved goodbye to each other before the Wookiee left the room. Both Mandalorians kept looking at the entrance before turning to look at each other.

 

"I see you've been making friends. That's good," Hamar said, kneeling to hug his son.

 

"I am. Did you find anything?" Karel asked.

 

"A few things, but we'll talk about that tomorrow. Right now you have to go to sleep."

 

"Awww, Dad..." Karel complained.

 

"Now."

 

"Fine," the boy grumbled, tucking himself into bed as he did so. He wiggled himself under the blankets, and with a kiss on the forehead from his father went to sleep.

 

---

 

The following morning

 

After waking up, Karel and Hamar went straight to meet with Tarfful, who was having breakfast with most of his warriors. Informing the chieftain of his findings, Hamar advised to wait for the right moment to strike, to which Tarfful agreed. After finishing their meal, they walked with Tarfful when an elder male Wookiee approached them. His dark brown hair was visibly greying, an indication of his old age. He held firmly to his walking staff using his right hand and stopped in front of the two humans and the Chieftain. When he reached them, Tarfful and Hamar bowed. Taking the hint, Karel did so too. Noticing the elder approach him, Hamar bowed again.

 

"He saw it," he said, looking at his son still with his head down. Karel looked up shyly to see the elder Wookiee looking down at him. Noticing his son's confusion, Hamar intervened. "It's okay. This is Grakabukk, he's the leader of the Tree Carers. They are a family responsible for protecting the forests."

 

"Uhh, hi," the boy answered, laughing nervously. Grakabukk looked at him before growling and turning away. Karel turned to his father, who was almost as confused as him. He seemed to have sensed his unsaid question.

 

"He said we have to go with him. He has to talk to you," he explained, not turning his gaze from the elder Wookiee walking away.

 

"This is about the shyyyo bird, isn't it?" Karel asked, plainly.

 

"Most likely, yes," Hamar replied. Karel sighed as his father turned to talk to Tarfful.

 

"If you'll excuse us," said Hamar. The chieftain nodded and the two Mandalorians left with Grakabukk. They followed him in silence outside the tree and towards Tree Vikkilynn, another one of the inhabited wroshyr trees that made up Kachirho. He led them to a large branch near the top of the tree until they arrived at a small home where the rest of the Tree Carer family awaited for them. They entered a small room and Karel took a moment to appreciate his surroundings. The walls were covered with all sorts of artifacts and some kind of seeds, but what stood out was a shrine at the end of the room, where a small flame was kept alight. As he attended to the flame, Grakabukk growled. Hamar quickly sat down and set his helmet to his right, with his son sitting at his left. Now sitting in front of the pair, Grakabukk spoke and Hamar translated for him.

 

"<To sight the shyyyo bird is a rare thing indeed, especially for an outsider. What is your name?>" the shaman asked. His gaze was fixed on Karel, indicating that his question was directed at him and not his father.

 

"Karel," he whispered, barely audible to the Wookiee.

 

"<Karel, son of Hamar. The trees told us you would come. We have been expecting you.>"

 

"M-Me?" Karel asked, confused.

 

"<Indeed. The balance of our world has been devastated, and it is your destiny to reestablish it.>"

 

"Mine? But I'm just a kid," Karel answered. He felt small compared with the mighty Wookiee he was talking to. Although old it was clear that Grakabukk had seen many things that would be best left to the imagination.

 

"<Perhaps, but even the greatest warriors were once children. To fulfill your destiny you must first unlock your rrakktorr.>"

 

"What is that?" he asked intrigued.

 

"<Your inner strength and fire. It is the essence of the warrior. Just as the katarn taught us how to unlock ours a thousand generations ago, we will teach you to find yours. Only then will you be able to restore the balance of our world and drive away the invaders.>"

 

A heavy silence filled the room as Karel turned his gaze to the floor.

 

"I can't do this," he thought to himself. Noticing how distraught his son was, Hamar laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. Pulled out of his trance and turning to look at his father in the eyes, the last words that his grandfather ever said to him echoed through his mind. "You are a Mandalorian. You are a warrior." 

 

Karel turned to look back at Grakabukk, who was patiently waiting for an answer. With a determined look, Karel spoke without hesitation.

 

"What do I have to do?" 

 

He might be a child, but he is a Mandalorian after all.

 

**********

 

Reflecting on the recent events, Karel couldn't stop thinking about the responsibility bestowed upon him. Over the past three months or so he had basically absorbed all he had been taught by the Wookiees. He had learnt their main language of Shyriiwook, as well as the lesser-known Thykarann, and how to hunt and survive in the jungles. For the task of today he had been ordered to climb the Origin Tree, the tallest tree in Kashyyyk. Cursing under his breath for not having claws like the Wookiees to help him in this endeavor, he stopped to take a brief rest as he reached a large area big enough to easily hold the Hawk.

 

"And here I thought veshok trees were tall," he muttered.

 

He panted for air as he reached inside his bag for his canteen and a piece of haarshun bread his father had cooked for him. He soaked the bread in the water to soften it before devouring the ration and taking another swig of his fresh water. He was already exhausted and there was still at least another quarter to go if he wanted to reach the top of the tree, not to mention the climb back down. As he started walking around the area he noticed something white laying on the floor. Picking it up he noticed it was a feather, leading him to deduce this was some sort of nest. The soft feather was just barely smaller than his torso and he couldn't stop asking himself what kind of creature would have feathers that big.

 

As if on cue, a thumping sound came from behind him, followed by a loud shriek that harmed his ears. Karel froze in shock before slowly turning to see the shyyyo bird. For some odd reason, Karel wasn't afraid when he observed the creature in all its glory, an honor only a few must have had in all of galactic history. He was blinded by its magnificent snow-white feathers, paralyzed by its spear-like horns, and dumbstruck by its elegant posture. But he was not afraid. What he found most captivating of the creature were its crimson eyes. Karel was so fascinated by them that he forgot for a moment that those very same eyes could be the last thing he ever saw. The bird shrieked again, bringing Karel back to reality as it slowly approached him making great strides. Realizing what was happening, a brief rush of fear ran through his veins before he quickly composed himself.

 

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you, not like I could anyway," he said calmly. He carefully set the feather down and raised his arms in front of him, trying to show he meant no harm. The shyyyo bird stopped in front of him and stood tall and menacing, blocking the sun from view as it looked down upon him. "I'm sorry if I bothered you. I-I didn't know this was your home."

 

The bird looked to be contemplating his words, almost as if it understood him. Karel closed his eyes fearing the worst would happen to him. The last thing he expected was for the bird to lower its head to his height, pinning him between its horns as he stood just a couple of meters away from its head. Slowly opening his eyes, he found himself once again enthralled by those of the bird, which now seemed to have a core of yellow in them, and Karel felt they were looking right into his soul. Karel took a few careful steps and slowly reached with his right hand, trying not to scare the creature as if that was even possible. Carefully, he touched the bird's beak and a low sound of approval came from it as it blinked slowly. He carefully moved his hand through the surprisingly smooth surface, before traveling to the slightly more gritty texture of the horns. Not wanting to overstep the boundaries, he lowered his hand and smiled at the bird. The creature stood tall again, before unclipping its wings and taking off. Karel looked as the creature disappeared back into the clouds and laughed to himself.

 

"They're going to love this," he muttered. He picked up the feather he had found and carefully put it in his bag. Deciding that he had climbed enough for the day, he started his long descent back to the base of the tree.

 

**********

 

Reaching the base of the Origin Tree, Karel could see that many Wookiees were gathered there. His father stood out wearing his Mandalorian armor and as the only human waiting. He appeared to be speaking with Tarfful and Grakabukk. Some of the other members of the Tree Carers and a handful of Tarfful's warriors had also accompanied them.

 

"So, how was it? Did you reach the top?" Hamar asked, smirking.

 

"Not exactly. I got... distracted." Karel answered, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

 

"Distracted? By what?" 

 

"By this."

 

Karel reached in his bag and slowly took out the feather of the shyyyo bird, holding it out for all to see. Shock overtook everyone and Grakabukk almost dropped his staff.

 

"Is that... a shyyyo bird feather?" Hamar asked in disbelief.

 

"It is. I had almost reached the top of the tree when I got to what I think is the nest of the bird. And that's not everything," Karel said, walking up to Tarfful and Grakabukk.

 

"There's more?" Hamar asked as Grakabukk carefully picked up the feather. He examined it for a moment before handing it over to Tarfful.

 

"I... I touched the bird. I was at the nest when it landed and it spotted me. I thought it would attack me but instead it let me touch it. After it left I took that feather and came back here."

 

Tarfful and Grakabukk looked at each other in disbelief, the latter turned and growled loudly for everyone to hear. Karel smiled knowingly as he heard the announcement.

 

"<He is ready.>"

 

---

 

The following night

 

As they walked through the canopy, Hamar checked his gauntlets one last time when they reached the mining site they were tasked to covertly destroy. Since the Wookiees could not risk getting caught fighting the Trade Federation with a full-scale attack, they would have to do this alone. The initial plan was to destroy the central computer which relayed orders to the droids, but that was quickly scrapped when they found out that after the failed Invasion of Naboo the Trade Federation had upgraded their droids to be able to operate autonomously. However, the failure of that invasion also weakened the Trade Federation's hold on many planets, and the destruction of the mining operation would be more than enough to drive them away. Arriving at a large branch near the edge of the mining site, they took a moment to study the place. There were at least 30 droids patrolling the site as well and an AAT near the main gate, and it was impossible to determine what laid inside the mine itself.

 

"The trees chose you, not me. Good luck," Hamar said. Karel nodded before jumping down from the branch and past the fence surrounding the complex.

 

Sneaking through the patrols and avoiding the searchlights, Karel set up charges on the fuel tanks next to the landing pad, on the power generator, and on the central computer, before entering the mine through an air duct to avoid being detected. Barely able to fit through the duct, Karel began to understand why he was the one chosen for this. He crawled for a few minutes more before finding an exit at what appeared to be an empty storage room. He silently opened the vent and jumped from the ceiling and into the room. Just then, a young male Trandoshan entered the room and Karel quickly hid behind an ore shipment, holding his breath in fear of being spotted. Seeing that nothing was out of order he turned to leave, until he spotted the open air duct in the ceiling. Through his species' infrared sight the Trandoshan could detect a faint signature somewhere in the room. As he walked to where Karel hid, the boy's comlink chimed off.

 

"Karel? Do you hear me?" his father asked through the comlink. Karel scrambled to turn it off as the Trandoshan walked around and spotted him hiding behind a cart of ore.

 

"Hey! What are you doing here?!"

 

The Trandoshan hissed as he launched to grab Karel. Knowing he couldn't win in a straight fight and using his superior agility and smaller size, Karel managed to avoid him. He unsheathed his small knife fashioned from a katarn's claw and evaded several other attacks from the taller and slower opponent before slashing him on the leg, bringing him down to a knee. Enraged, the Trandoshan caught Karel and slammed him on a box, knocking the knife out of his hand.

 

"Jetar madle!" the Trandoshan yelled, cursing Karel in his native tongue.

 

He growled, raising his clawed hand to kill the boy. Glancing to his side, Karel grabbed a small piece of the ore and hit him on the head as hard as he could with the punctured end of the rock, drawing blood from his forehead. The unexpected attack made the Trandoshan release his grasp on him and knocked him to the ground, stunning him long enough for Karel to pick up his knife. The Trandoshan quickly recovered and hissed at him, standing on all fours and ready to charge at him. But the boy did not falter as he waited for the perfect moment to strike on the only vulnerable spot his enemy had. That moment came when the Trandoshan launched at him and Karel stabbed him through the neck without hesitation, twisting the knife as he pulled it out, killing him in an instant. As his opponent's lifeless body laid in front of him, Karel reached for his comlink and contacted his father, who was frantically calling for him.

 

"Karel? Karel, do you copy? Are you there, son?" Hamar asked, panicking through the comm.

 

"I'm here. I'm okay. I just had some... delays," he replied as he panted for air. Crawling through the duct and his brief exchange with the Trandoshan had left him exhausted.

 

"Has anyone seen you?" Hamar asked, the relief in his voice loud and clear.

 

"Yes, but I just took care of it," Karel replied, his tone implying what he had done. On the other side of the transmission Hamar was smiling under his helmet as he held back a laugh. Karel started searching the Trandoshan's body and found some sort of key, which he promptly took.

 

"Well done. Hurry up, only four charges and you're done," Hamar said, cutting the transmission.

 

Karel pocketed his comlink before stepping out of the room. He sneaked through the empty hallways until he reached the main section of the mine. As he finished setting the last charge on one of the support pillars, Karel heard a low growl nearby. It wasn't from a Trandoshan, but from a Wookiee. As he approached to investigate, he saw a group of enslaved Wookiees on the platform in front of him with shock collars and chains. They appeared to be somewhat young for Wookiees, around 200 years old, but one was significantly older, probably around 350 years old. As he was about to approach them, a pair of Trandoshans arrived to supervise their slaves. The oldest Wookiee tripped over while moving some ore and the Trandoshans laughed at him as one of his companions helped him get up. Eventually, one Trandoshan left and the other seemed to be distracted, so Karel moved up to help the Wookiees. As he sneaked on the Trandoshan from above, one of the younger Wookiees saw him and stopped what he was doing. Karel put a finger over his mouth, miming a signal to stay quiet. The Wookiee nodded slightly in return.

 

"Hey! Stop standing around and get back to work!" the Trandoshan yelled. He pressed a button on his gauntlet, shocking the distracted Wookiee.

 

Karel pulled out the same katarn claw knife from before and jumped down on the Trandoshan, falling on his shoulders. Firmly wrapping his other arm around the Trandoshan's jaw to give himself some balance, Karel used the same move as before and stabbed him through the neck. He jumped down from the dead body and turned to the Wookiees as he sheathed the knife. The Wookiees were shocked to see someone, let alone a human boy so young, take out a Trandoshan like that with such ease.

 

"It's okay, I'm here to help you. Tarfful sent me. I'm Karel," he said, holding his hands in the air as he approached the first Wookiee, who kneeled for him to take off his collar. He quickly removed the collars and chains using the key he took from the body of the first Trandoshan. As he finished removing the last one from the older Wookiee, the other Trandoshan reappeared. Now free, two of the younger Wookiees ran to him and attacked him. They tore his arms off before one of them lifted the Trandoshan and tossed him into the smelter.

 

"Alright, now we have to get out of here," Karel said, before pulling out his comlink as two of the Wookiees picked up the Trandoshans' weapons. "Buir, we got a problem. There are some Wookiees here and I need a distraction to get them out."

 

Hamar sighed through the comm before answering. "Fine, I'll try to get their attention. Get out of there now, I'm not sure how long I can keep them busy."

 

As they were looking for an exit, an alarm shrieked through the halls. They quickly found a maintenance tunnel through which they emerged from the underground mine. Walking outside they found Hamar pinned down by a platoon of B1 battle droids as the AAT approached him. Reacting to this, Karel took the extra charge he had and ran to the tank from behind. Sliding down he planted the explosive on the underbelly of the tank before rushing to help his father and detonating all of the explosives at once. The combined explosions, plus the collapse of the mine, shook the ground with the force of a groundquake, stunning the droids long enough for the freed Wookiees to tear them apart. Karel helped his father get up as they saw the final droid be ripped apart by the same Wookiee that had thrown the Trandoshan in the smelter.

 

"You were supposed to be stealthy," Hamar jokingly admonished his son, but there was not a hint of resentment in his voice. He picked up one of the destroyed droid's arms and looked at it for a moment, before throwing it behind his back without looking and crossing his arms.

 

"Your call came at the wrong moment and I had to fight a Trandoshan. So I guess you're the one to blame," Karel replied. He grinned in victory and Hamar chuckled at the image of his son fighting a Trandoshan and winning, which made him smile under his helmet.

 

"Seems like I've taught you well. Come on, let's get out of here!"

 

The group disappeared into the jungle, where they quickly lost their pursuers. When they arrived at Kachirho, the entire city had gathered to greet them. Grorkhal ran to hug Karel and lifted him off the ground.

 

"Thanks for the welcome, buddy," Karel said as he returned the hug and Grorkhal put him down. They let go of each other once Grorkhal saw Tarfful and Grakabukk approach them. Grorkhal nodded to the two elders respectfully before returning to the crowd, next to his family.

 

"<Word of your success has traveled fast among the trees, Mandalorian. Your actions only confirm your people's reputation,>" Tarfful said, bringing a hand to his chest.

 

"<You have done our people a great service. We will never forget you,>" Grakabukk added, carefully kneeling down before Karel. All the other Wookiees kneeled as well and Karel turned to look at his father, who slowly took off his helmet and smiled proudly at him. Hamar kneeled too and Karel turned to look at the crowd assembled in front of him, smiling as he remembered what his father and grandfather had told him. He was a warrior.

 

**********

 

After almost an entire week of celebrations, it was time for the Mandalorians to leave the jungle planet of Kashyyyk. The Wookiees would have been more than happy to repay them for their services and give them a home among their people, but Hamar knew this was no place for them. Checking the supplies of their ship one last time, Hamar said goodbye to Tarfful and Grakabukk while Karel shared a last hug with Grok, as he had begun to call his Wookiee friend.

 

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Karel ran back inside the ship and returned a few seconds later with his hands behind his back. "I want you to keep this."

 

He held the shyyyo bird feather in front of Grorkhal, who flickered his gaze between Karel and the feather. Karel smiled at him and motioned for him to take the feather. Grorkhal carefully took the feather and held it close to his face, analyzing every detail of it before he graced his fingers through it. He hugged Karel again and thanked him. Finally releasing him after a minute or so, Karel bid farewell to the two other Wookiees as well, before they boarded their ship and took off.

 

"I think saving an entire planet should count as my verd'goten," Karel said as they began rising through the clouds and the stars came into view.

 

"You're not even ten yet and the verd'goten is when you're thirteen," Hamar replied. "You should get some rest, I'll wake you up later."

 

Karel hummed in agreement, he was exhausted by all the feasts and dances the Wookiees had organized. He went to his quarters and fell asleep almost as soon as he collapsed on his bed. Back at the cockpit, a transmission arrived as Hamar prepared to make the jump to hyperspace. As the hologram came to life, Hamar instantly recognized the man that contacted him and said his name.

 

"Jango Fett."

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Army

58 hours later, Level 1313, Coruscant

 

Turning on a corner, Hamar looked behind him to make sure he wasn't being followed. If you wanted to stay alive at Coruscant's underworld, letting your guard down was the last thing you should do. If you were lucky you would only get robbed and maybe end up with a few bruises. If not, well, there are many places in the planet-wide city where you can dispose of a body where no one will ever find it. He turned again on an alley and waited there anxiously for a few minutes for his contact to arrive. He heard a clattering noise and his hands instinctively went to his blasters, drawing them as he turned at the source of the noise, only to find a tooka rummaging through a garbage container. The animal arched its back and hissed at him before picking up a bone with its mouth and running away. Hamar sighed as he holstered his weapons and turned back to look at the alley's entrance, as the man he came to meet appeared in front of him.

 

"Why did you call me, Fett?" Hamar asked. He knew Jango was not one to make small talk and preferred a more direct approach to business. It was one of the few things that he didn't keep secret about himself.

 

"Have you reconsidered my offer?"

 

"Not unless the conditions have changed." Hamar was frustrated at Jango, and he made that clear by his tone. He respected the man, but he had interrupted his time with his son just to ask about an offer he had already rejected.

 

"You can train him there, but you can't leave. I can't risk you telling anyone else about this," Jango answered. He knew what Hamar was talking about since that was the reason he had rejected his offer in the first place. He couldn't take a risk that big by letting anyone else leave Kamino with the knowledge of a secret clone army. His client had made it clear that this was a top-secret project and any breaches would be dealt with accordingly.

 

"And who am I going to tell? My family? My son is the only family I have left. Training Karel is more important to me than any amount of credits, and I can't do that being stuck on Kamino. I'll teach him all I can there, but there are things I can't show him there. It's not like you would understand."

 

Hamar knew he had struck a chord when he noticed Fett's visor lower its gaze ever so slightly. Jango didn't want to accept the risks of this deal, but now that he had Boba he began to understand Hamar's position, and the memories of his childhood as a foundling came flooding back. Jango knew he could trust Hamar, even if his own personal motto was to trust no one. Like himself, he was very inconspicuous with his work, and a man that made good on his word. He wasn't so certain about Karel, but he was his father's son after all. Jango quickly composed himself and spoke with his usual no-nonsense tone.

 

"You can leave only with my previous authorization and only to train him. I must know where you are at all times and you have to come back when I order you. That is my last offer."

 

Hamar turned away for a moment as he considered the offer. He noticed Fett getting impatient as he leaned against a wall and kept thinking in silence.

 

"I'll discuss it with Karel. It's his life too, he deserves to have a say in this."

 

"Contact me once you have his answer," Jango replied coldly as he turned and left.

 

Hamar left not long after and made his way to Dex's Diner in CoCo Town, where he had left Karel under the care of the Besalisk owner. Dexter was one of Hamar's few friends and he wasn't worried about leaving his son with him for a few hours while he worked. He was probably more worried about Dex and his restaurant, seeing as Karel had kept his interest in cooking he had acquired from his mother and often asked Dex to let him help in the kitchen. Today was not a very busy day, so when Hamar entered the diner he wasn't surprised to see his son in the kitchen helping Dex make his special nerfsteak seasoning for the day.

 

"Dad!" Karel yelled as he ran to hug his father. Hamar picked him up and spun him for a moment. He set him back on the ground once Dexter walked over to greet him.

 

"Thanks for taking care of him, Dex. I hope he didn't give you too much trouble," Hamar said. He turned to his son laughing awkwardly and scratching the back of his neck, while Dex hid his two lower hands behind his back. They were hiding something, probably another incident involving fire and a curious kid.

 

"Oh, it was nothing! You should leave him with me more, he's a good cook. Maybe I'll pass him this place one day!" Dex exclaimed as he gestured around at his restaurant with his four arms. Karel visibly brightened at the compliment and smiled. Dex winked him an eye, showing he was not angry at him for almost burning down his kitchen... again.

 

"Yeah, he got it from his mother. I guess we should get going." Hamar turned to leave but Dex put one of his hands on his shoulder.

 

"Why don't you stay and eat something? Sit down, your kid helped me make a Sic-Six layer cake and it's almost ready." Dex motioned with his two left arms to the booth to his left as he smiled, knowing it was the booth they always got when they ate there. Hamar looked down to see his son beaming at him as he bounced on his toes and grinning at the prospect of cake.

 

"Please..." Karel begged, staring at him like a hungry tooka kitten asking for food. Hamar laughed at the expression as he relaxed. The talk about Kamino would be easier over cake.

 

"Alright, I'll have some caf please." Karel shouted in victory and threw his arms in the air. He practically jumped into the booth and his father slid in the seat in front of him. "Kar'ika, there is something I have to talk to you about." A waitress droid arrived and served his caf, before quickly leaving as he took a sip from the hot beverage. "Jango contacted me and he's making me an offer. He wants me to train commandos on some water world. The problem is... this is a confidential project, extreme secrecy and all that osik. We would have anything we need living there, but we can't tell anyone we're there, not even Dex. For the rest of the galaxy it would be as if we were dead."

 

"And what about my training?"

 

"I struck a deal with Jango and he agreed to let you and I leave for your training, but our trips would be minimum and we would need his permission so I'll train you mostly there."

 

"And how long would we be there?"

 

"A few years at least. Listen, I know this would be a big change, but I wanted to ask you before I gave Jango an answer. The past couple of years we've been living in the ship, and while I can't complain about that, I think this would be a nice change of pace for us."

 

"Well," Karel answered after thinking about the offer for a moment. "It would be nice to live somewhere that doesn't have an ion engine, but I have one condition." Hamar saw that coming, of course he would ask for something. "I help you train them."

 

"What?" He was expecting him to ask for something like his own armor, which his father had actually been keeping for his son's next birthday. Asking him to let him train the commandos was probably the last thing he expected. Karel noticed the confusion on his father's face and laughed before he explained his demands.

 

"I help you train them. If you take this job you are going to spend most of your time training them, which would leave me basically alone most of the day. And while I like the chance of being able to do whatever I want, I know I would get bored pretty soon. Besides, if I help you I can learn more and it would be easier for you to train them and me at the same time."

 

He truly was a bright kid, and Hamar had to admit he was making some very good points. Training commandos would consume most of his time and who knows how much time they'll have for his training, let alone for leaving Kamino.

 

"Well, that might work, but we'd have to ask Fett first," Hamar replied. Karel nodded and they shook hands, as Dex arrived with the cake.

 

27 hours later, Tipoca City, Kamino

 

As the rain lashed against the canopy of the Gray Hawk, Karel marveled at the sight of the capital city of Kamino. The network of stilt structures somehow reminded him of the wroshyr trees they had stayed in just a few days ago. However, he couldn't deny the whole planet looked cold and dull, nothing at all like the light and warmth of Kashyyyk that he was already missing.

 

"Hopefully the inside will be better," he thought as they landed and walked down the boarding ramp of their ship. Jango stood at the landing platform, unbothered by the rain. He had reluctantly accepted Karel's single condition, agreeing that it would minimize their trips offworld which would in turn decrease the risk of them telling anyone about the project.

 

"You're early," Jango said once they reached him. Hamar held out his right hand and Jango shook it in the traditional Mandalorian style by clasping it hand-to-elbow.

 

"We didn't have a lot of people to say goodbye to," Hamar replied as he released his forearm. Jango turned to look at Karel, who greeted him with a respectful nod. He returned the greeting and signaled for them to follow him. He turned and walked inside, and Hamar and Karel followed him through a hallway until they reached the cloning installations.

 

"Kandosii..." Karel whispered as he saw the thousands of growth chambers that reached up to the domed ceilings. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the supports and he remembered climbing the trees of Belsak and Kashyyyk. "These are not trees, but they'll do," he thought as he returned his attention to the cloning facilities. He saw a group of young children about 4 or 5 years old. As he studied them, he noticed one particular trait about them and turned to his father. "They all look the same."

 

"They're clones," Hamar replied. He didn't turn his gaze from another group of clones being supervised by a tall, slender, pale-skinned being.

 

"Of who?" Karel asked.

 

"Of me."

 

Father and son turned to look at the bounty hunter in front of them. Jango smirked at the confused expressions on their faces, a rare show of emotion from the man. He gave them a basic explanation of how he had been hired as the template for a clone army ordered by the Galactic Republic. After being introduced to some of the Kaminoan cloners responsible for this 'Grand Army of the Republic', Fett took them to meet a few of the other mercenaries that had been hired to train the clones, most of them fellow Mandalorians. One of them approached them and Karel recognized the symbol on his armor. It was the sigil of the Mandalorian Protectors.

 

"Excuse me," the man said with a heavy Concord Dawn accent. He was young, if his voice was any indication, and he sounded excited too. "Are you Hamar Jansek?"

 

"Asks who?" Hamar answered calmly as he turned to address him.

 

"Fenn Rau," the man answered. He took off his helmet and tucked it under his left arm. He was in fact young, around twenty years old. His red hair contrasted with the grey, white and black details of his armor, but matched with the sigil on his helmet's forehead, as did his eyes with the light blue color on most of his armor plates. He seemed to be trying to hold back a smile, as well. "I, uh, I studied your tactics during the war. It's an honor to meet you, sir."

 

Hamar studied the man intently before taking off his own helmet and shaking his hand. "Please, Hamar is fine." Karel cleared his throat loudly to get their attention and Hamar rolled his eyes before laughing. "This is my son, Karel."

 

"I've heard about you," Fenn said. He leaned down a little bit to shake the boy's hand. "I thought you would look different though."

 

"My dad says I look like my mom," Karel answered. While he had light skin and dark brown hair that he took from his mother, his father had tan skin and black hair, like Jango. The two looked so similar that they could even be confused as brothers. Karel looked up to see his father smiling sadly at him. "And that I have her eyes."

 

"That you do, Kar'ika. That you do..." he trailed off. Karel hugged his father's leg instinctively and he patted the top of his head. Rau kept his head low in respect for their deceased family. He too, like all Mandalorians, knew the feeling of losing those you love.

 

"My condolences..." he whispered. None of the current members of the Mandalorian Protectors or the Mandalorian Guard had been recruited from Clan Jansek, since their numbers were already incredibly low, so there were no other living members of Clan Jansek besides Hamar and Karel. Desperate for a new topic, Rau said the first thing that came to mind. "Let me show you around, there's not much to see but you can get lost pretty easily here."

 

**********

 

As they walked through the various tunnels of the city, they came upon a few other trainers they hadn't met yet. They arrived at a training course and Karel began running around the complex imagining he was in a battlefield. Rau started tapping some buttons on his gauntlet and the floor plates began to go up and down in front of Karel as an improvised obstacle course. Fenn transferred the controls to Hamar, who kept their little game as Karel leapt onto a raised floor plate that suddenly dropped down. Karel rolled as he landed so as not to hurt himself and started laughing as he laid on the cold metal floor facing upwards. The three laughed even more as the floor below him began to move up and down repeatedly, then suddenly stopped.

 

"What is that kid doing here?" a feminine voice said from behind.

 

Hamar and Fenn turned. The human woman before them seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She stood just a couple of inches shorter than Hamar and her blonde hair was kept in a moderately short ponytail.

 

"Whose child is that?" the woman asked again.

 

"He's with me," Hamar answered.

 

"That doesn't answer much..."

 

"Hamar Jansek. This is Fenn Rau and that is my son Karel. I didn't have anyone else to take care of him so he came with me. And yes, Jango knows about it." The woman shook the men's hands and kept looking at Hamar, who smiled at her and she smiled back. "And you are?"

 

"Mira Faris," she said, introducing herself before her comlink beeped. "Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to. I will see you later."

 

She smiled once more before turning and leaving. The two men looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what to make of her. Karel returned to his father's side and looked at the woman walking away.

 

"Who's that?" he asked.

 

"Another one of the trainers, I think. Come on, let's go see our quarters."

 

Fenn guided them to their apartment in another part of the military complex, where the other trainers and a few high-ranking Kaminoans lived as well. Most Kaminoans who worked within the city actually lived in satellite cities situated around Tipoca City, rather than in the city itself. They entered a simple two-bedroom apartment and Karel started walking around the place as Jango appeared at the entrance. Rau took this as his cue to leave, nodding to them before walking out the door. Jango was carrying something in his arms bundled up by blankets. Karel stepped closer to see a baby sleeping, but there was something very particular about this baby.

 

"He looks like the clones."

 

Hamar startled at his son's comment and looked at Fett, waiting for his answer and hoping he wasn't offended for some reason. Jango's face was neutral, as usual, and it was very difficult to determine what he was thinking.

 

"He's my son. His name is Boba."

 

The baby moved in his sleep and Karel laughed quietly. Hamar put a hand on his shoulder and nodded his head to the apartment.

 

"Why don't you go check the rest of the place while Jango and I have a talk?"

 

Karel was puzzled by what his father said but said nothing of it. He quickly shrugged it off and left. Hamar kept looking as his son entered another room before turning back to Fett.

 

"Your son?"

 

"There is more than one way to keep your legacy alive," Jango replied plainly.

 

"I see. In that case I must apologize for what I said before. I was not aware you had a son. N'eparavu takisit. If we must not leave Kamino, so be it."

 

"No, you were right. This is no place for a child. You can still leave, but all my other conditions stand."

 

"Very well."

 

"I should leave you two to unpack, you'll meet your cadets tomorrow."

 

Jango left without saying anything else, leaving Hamar alone with his thoughts as he watched the waves through the large window of the living room. Karel opened the door to the second bedroom, his bedroom, to find a single bed in the corner of the room, a chest, a closet, and a desk. He stood at the center of the room thinking what he would have to change about it. It wasn't bad, but he would have to make a few adjustments if they were going to stay. He sighed as he sat on the bed and his father stood at the door frame.

 

"What do you think? he asked.

 

"Well it's not Mandalore, or Belsak..." The sadness in Karel's voice was clear. Hamar moved to sit next to his son on the bed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a tight embrace.

 

"I know, ad'ika. I miss them too. More than you realize."

 

Karel hugged him back and the two fell in a comforting silence. Hamar stared at nothing in particular as he remembered his life before the attack on their clan. For a few years he truly had a perfect life. He had a job that he loved, credits were not an issue. He was married to the most amazing woman he would ever meet and had a son with her who was his pride and joy. This little boy next to him, his flesh and blood, was everything he had now. If it wasn't for him he would have given up long ago, but to see the eyes of his late wife in him was the only thing that kept him going. He held his son tighter when he heard him cry into his shoulder. Contrary to what many outsiders may think, Mandalorian culture was very family-oriented, but crying was something often looked down upon as a sign of weakness. Hamar did not agree with that, so he let his son cry all he needed to. Whoever thought a kid that had lost almost his entire family shouldn't be given the chance to mourn them properly could go to hell. It didn't take long for his own resolve to break too, and he himself shed a few tears that he didn't bother to wipe away. They stayed like that for a few minutes and when he looked down, Karel had fallen asleep. Hamar carefully laid him on the bed and took an extra blanket from the closet to cover him. He quietly took off his armor and boots before laying down next to his son. He still needed to fix a few things about them living on Kamino and Karel accompanying him to train the commandos, but that could wait. Right now Karel needed him more, and there was nothing in this universe that meant more to him than his son.

 

---

 

26 BBY, four years later

 

"The last squad to finish will clean every weapon in the armory for a week!" Hamar yelled to his cadets that were currently running laps around the military complex in Tipoca City.

 

Karel zoomed in closer with his helmet's rangefinder, having finally gotten his first set of armor when he turned ten years old. It wasn't made of beskar, but of a durasteel alloy. In Clan Jansek, younglings were not given a suit of full beskar armor until they were adults and had proven themselves worthy of said metal. Before that they would use a training armor made from inferior metals to get them used to the weight of the armor, and the only beskar you would be allowed to carry until then was your kar'ta, which you would forge yourself. Hamar had kept this tradition of their clan alive when he started teaching Karel how to forge beskar, a skill he himself had learned from his own father. The only beskar Karel had ever forged was the one he was currently wearing, and he wore it with pride knowing what it represented. He shifted again on the support beam he was sitting on, and looked down as two squads of commandos faced off against each other in a combat session.

 

"Well, this is interesting," he said after noticing the two squads were Omega and Zeta.

 

"Karel, get down here," Hamar ordered through their comlink frequency, "it's your turn to run the course."

 

"Entertainment will have to wait," he muttered to himself as he began climbing down the support structure. When he was a few feet from the ground he leapt down in front of his father and the clones.

 

"Dismissed," Hamar told his training company, Delta Company, and they split off in groups of four with their respective squadmates.

 

"Good luck, vod," one of the cadets said to Karel. The clone in question gave him a playful punch on the arm. He smiled and walked away with the rest of his squad.

 

"Thanks, Jaig," Karel replied with a smile of his own. It had taken him a while to learn the names of the clones and know how to differentiate them, but he had learnt to distinguish specific markings on their uniforms and subtle differences in their speech and body language. Karel came to stand in front of his father, who had just finished speaking with the cadets of Tracyn Squad. They saluted at their training sergeant before turning sharply and walking away.

 

"Which one am I running today?" he asked as they started walking together a short distance away from the clones.

 

"It's a new one, I just programmed it and you'll help me test it out," his father replied as they separated to go to their respective positions. Karel headed for the start line and Hamar went to wait at the finish line. Delta Company stood at the side of the training course ready for the show.

 

Karel checked his blaster carbine one last time and took a deep breath. The chronometer started counting as he ran to the nearest cover. He peeked his head from the right to spot two droids laying suppressive fire on him. He moved to the left end of the barrier, took aim, and fired, disposing of the targets with two well-placed shots. In front of him were two opposite guard towers at each side and they simultaneously opened fire at him with repeating blasters. He rolled to avoid the incoming shots and fired back, taking out the droids. Another droid appeared at his right where his cover would not work and he destroyed that one before it had a lock on him. He sprinted through the open field at the middle of the training course but as he was crossing, four more droids emerged in front of him. He quickly took out three of them but the last one managed to land a hit on his blaster, disabling it. He switched to holding it as a baton and used it to beat the droid before rushing for cover and drawing his blaster pistols.

 

"Don't lose a hand!" one of the clones yelled to him from the sideline. Karel glanced to see the one teasing him was Lylek, the heavy weapons and recon specialist of Rapier Squad, and known joker of the unit. Clones didn't have many ways to spend what little free time they had so they mostly spent it making fun of each other. And that was a double-edged sword for Karel, since his father's commandos had taken him in as one of their own.

 

"You couldn't beat me in unarmed combat even if I lost both!" he retorted. Karel knew he had won this round when the only reply he got were the laughs coming from the side and no further comments from Lylek. He peeked over the wall and a blaster bolt graced the dome of his helmet.

 

"Haar'chak, that was close," he muttered as he heard the clipping sound that came when removing a power pack.

 

He jumped to the side and while in the air shot two droids dead. Landing on his back behind a short wall he rolled to lie prone and shot the last remaining targets dead. He raced to the finish line where his father was waiting for him with his hands behind his back. An alarm blared and the chronometer stopped as he crossed the line, indicating the end of the simulation.

 

"You missed one," Hamar said.

 

Karel was certain the chronometer wouldn't have stopped if he had left a droid standing, or the alarm blared if he hadn't crossed the finish line. He turned to the training course and, as expected, found that all the droids had been disabled. Most had a bit of smoke coming out from the blaster shots and the one he beat up with his rifle was definitely neutralized. He turned to look at the clones and they looked confused as well. He had just finished an unknown course with flying colors, set a new record time and achieved all the objectives he'd been given. What could he be not getting?

 

"No, I'm pretty sure I got all of them," he answered.

 

He turned to Hamar for an explanation as a blaster bolt hit his right chestplate, making him fall to the floor with enough force to make him feel a bantha is standing on top of him. His father came into his field of view, his blaster still in his hand with a smoking barrel, and the list of questions inside Karel's mind only kept growing.

 

"You let your guard down and you got hurt because of that. Never let your guard down. If you do, you or someone else might get hurt, or worse."

 

That explained everything.

 

"Noted," Karel said with a groan as his father helped him sit up. "You could have used the stun setting."

 

"It wouldn't have worked as well," his father explained as he stood up. Jango had observed the whole exchange from the side and Hamar went to talk to him as a few of the cadets approached Karel, not having dared to interrupt whatever lesson their sergeant was trying to teach his son.

 

"Has he ever done that before?" one of them asked.

 

"Not without warning," Karel replied. He took off his helmet and could feel the smoke of burnt tibanna gas hit his nostrils.

 

"You okay?" another one asked.

 

"Yeah, just help me up." The two cadets held him from the arms and pulled him up. He looked down and started rubbing the spot in the center of his right chest plate where the shot hit him. "Osik, that hurts..."

 

"The durasteel armor absorbed most of the energy, but that's definitely going to leave a mark," said Axe, the medic of Nebula Squad.

 

Hamar returned from his talk with Jango and the cadets stepped back from Karel, turning their attention to their sergeant.

 

"We're done here for today. Go with Fenn for your fighter training," Hamar instructed Karel. They had become close with the native of Concord Dawn during their time on Kamino. Hamar turned to the rest of his cadets and they stood at attention. "Go back to your barracks, training is finished for today."

 

**********

 

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be with your father?" Mira called to Karel from behind as he walked to the flight simulators section in Tipoca City. She catches up to him and they keep walking together. She had also become close to them and the four had become as close to a family as they could be.

 

"Got fighter training," Karel replied. He kept rubbing the sore spot on his chest and Mira frowned at his behavior, but she figured he was just tired.

 

"What's wrong? Hand-to-hand combat got a little too exciting?" she asked teasingly. He scoffed and moved his hand so she could see the charred paint on his armor.

 

"Not exactly. Dad wanted to teach me something." Her eyes widened at the implication of what happened as she carefully pressed her hand against the armor plate.

 

"Wait. He did this? He shot you?" she asked in disbelief. She was still not very familiar with how Mandalorians raised their children despite being close friends with a few of them.

 

"Yeah. He said he wanted to teach me a lesson," Karel replied casually.

 

"And what lesson could that possibly be?!" Her tone was rising with every word and Karel could see the anger in her eyes.

 

"Never let your guard down or you get hurt," Karel replied. He winced as Mira grabbed his arm and pulled him to start walking away from the flight simulators. "Ow! What was that for?"

 

"You Mandalorians will be the death of me," she muttered to herself. "I'm taking you to the infirmary. You need to get treated right now! And while we're there I am going to have a very serious talk with your father."

 

"Calm down, it's not that bad," Karel replied as he stopped walking and freed his wrist from her hold. "Are you coming over for dinner tomorrow?"

 

She sighed, frustrated at how casually he shrugged off what had happened. His more playful attitude had quickly returned now despite the pain that he was trying to ignore. Yes, he probably should get checked before the bruise got worse, but he doesn't think it's that serious. Besides, he really didn't want to miss fighter training, that was probably his favorite when not allowed to leave Kamino.

 

"Yes. Go before Fenn gets mad at you for being late." She leaned down and pointed a finger at him. "And when you see your father you tell him he's going to get an earful from me next time I see him."

 

Karel laughed as he turned and kept walking towards the flight simulators. Despite her reputation as a tough woman that cared only for herself, Mira could sometimes show her soft side with those close to her, something Karel had come to experience first hand many times over the past four years or so.

 

"Sure thing, Mom."

 

She froze in her place and her breath caught in her throat, not knowing if she heard him right. For a moment she thinks he said that out of spite, but she finds no bitterness in his laugh as he walks away without turning back. If he was being honest, she was the closest thing he had to a mother now, and while he knew she could never replace his real mother, he figured she was the closest thing he'd ever get. And besides, Karel was no fool, he's noticed the looks she and his father have exchanged, and he sometimes wished he saw it too if he wasn't so busy with his work and raising him.

 

Karel quickly shook those thoughts away as he reached the flight simulators of Tipoca City. As expected, there was no one there but himself and Fenn, who was sitting on a simulator's wing as he read a datapad. The clones had already finished their training for the day, so they had the installations all for themselves.

 

"You're late," Fenn said looking up from his datapad.

 

"Sorry Fenn, I got held up," Karel replied. Fenn noticed the mark on his chest but didn't pay much attention to it.

 

"Blaster training gone wrong?" he asked. His voice was neutral except for his Concord Dawn accent that had only begun to be lost after so many years away from his homeworld.

 

"Sort of, it's a long story. You'll hear it tomorrow at dinner, I guarantee," Karel answered. He really didn't want to explain the whole thing again, and fortunately Fenn seemed to understand.

 

"So long as you don't let your father cook, I'm happy to wait," Fenn replied. Hamar had pretty basic cooking skills, but he was not as good in the kitchen as his son or his late wife, so he often let Karel take care of the food when they had visits.

 

They both laughed as they walked to their respective simulators and carried on with the training. It had been, as Karel expected, the highlight of his day, despite having to sit through the pain for a few extra hours. Fenn had finally let him train with the Fang fighter simulation and it had been everything he hoped for, and he couldn't wait to finally get the chance to fly the real thing one day.

 

He returned to his and his father's apartment and walked into his room's personal refresher. He started removing his armor as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He removed the top part of his flight suit and carefully took off his black form-fitting undershirt made from a material similar to that of the clone armor body glove. He grimaced once he saw the bruise on his chest. It had taken a purple, almost black coloring, and was about the size of his closed fist, maybe bigger. He graced his fingers over the wound and hissed at the sharp pain that followed. He started regretting not listening to Mira when the main door hissed open.

 

"Karel? Are you here?" his father called from outside.

 

"Over here!" Karel shouted. Hamar entered the refresher to find Karel applying a bacta patch to himself. "Your lessons do leave their mark."

 

"That's so you don't forget them. Are you okay?" Hamar asked as he leaned down to help his son with the patch.

 

"Yeah, the bacta will take care of it in a few days. But you got a very angry Mira on the hunt now," Karel replied. He laughed quietly and tried not to move too much as doing so would cause the bruise to hurt even more. "And you're her prey," he added.

 

Karel took note of the slightest blush in his father's face when he mentioned Mira. For a moment he considered probing further, until he remembered something else.

 

"I saw that Jango went to talk to you. What did he want?" Karel asked.

 

"Since your thirteenth birthday is approaching I had to talk to him about us leaving for your verd'goten," Hamar explained. He started applying a spray-bandage across Karel's chest to hold the patch and protect the wound.

 

"And what did he say?" Karel asked. The verd'goten was a major event in a Mandalorian youth's life. It was, after all, the transition from child to adult, and he was very excited since they hadn't been able to leave Kamino in almost a year now.

 

"He gave us five days. It should be enough for what I have planned."

 

"Is it fighting another beast? Because I'm not going back to Scarif to fight another blixus. Too many tentacles."

 

"But Scarif was great, it was almost like a vacation," Hamar replied. He finished applying the bandage and took a step back. He started laughing to himself as he remembered that lesson.

 

"For you perhaps. You were taking the sun while that thing was trying to eat me. Not the way I expected to pass my tenth birthday," Karel exclaimed sarcastically. He picked up his belongings and walked out of the refresher.

 

"Please, it wasn't that bad. You passed the lesson after all," Hamar replied as he followed Karel.

 

"No thanks to you," Karel shot back, frustrated. He slammed his helmet on the desk next to his bed and turned back to look at his father leaning against the doorframe. "Do you have any idea just how angry a female blixus trying to protect her eggs is? Because I do."

 

"And yet here you are. You fought the blixus and won. Now, no matter how long you live or what you face, you will never fear again."

 

Karel sighed, tired of the bickering between the two of them. They weren't actually fighting, and he wasn't angry with him, but scenarios like these were not uncommon between them. This was just a way for them to blow off steam from time to time.

 

"Why do I even bother?" he muttered. He chuckled and Hamar laughed as Karel turned back to his armor and started cleaning the charred paint from the chest plate.

 

"I'll go make you some shig, I think there is some uj'alayi as well."

 

Karel nodded as Hamar exited the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He kept absently cleaning his armor, but his mind was somewhere else, too busy thinking about the verd'goten. In just a few months he would turn thirteen years old and officially be considered an adult in Mandalorian culture. If he passed the verd'goten that is.

 

He shook his head to clear those thoughts away. Of course he would pass, he'd trained his entire life for this. He kept trying to convince himself he would succeed. He'd never heard of anyone not passing their verd'goten, but he can only guess it would be a great disgrace both for himself and his family. What would his father think of him if he did not pass?

 

"What if I fail?" he whispered.

 

"What?"

 

Karel looked behind him to find his father carrying a tray with his food, confusion etched in his face.

 

"Nothing. I, uh, I..." Karel sighed, tired of pretending. "Dad, if I... I don't know... failed for some reason." His voice was small and insecure as he scrambled to put his thoughts into words. "W-would you still... love me?"

 

"Come here." He quickly left the tray on the desk and hugged Karel tight, but was careful not to put too much pressure on his dressings. "Karel, of course I would still love you. You're my son, and nothing will ever change that." Karel looked up shyly, not daring to make eye contact with his father. "You know, I too thought I wouldn't pass when I was your age."

 

"Really?" Karel couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father was the most courageous and fearless person he'd ever met. He thought there was nothing in the known galaxy that could make his father nervous. He had seen him cry, bravery was not the same as coldness and grief was another thing entirely. To know that his father had been as insecure as him at one point shattered the almost perfect image he had of him.

 

"Yes, it was a few weeks before my birthday," Hamar explained as they sat on the bed. "I didn't want to tell anyone because I felt they would think I was being weak. Your grandmother noticed and told me I should talk about it with your grandfather."

 

"And you did?"

 

"Not at first. I thought he would be mad at me for some reason. Eventually I worked up the nerve to tell him how I was feeling."

 

"And what did he say?" Karel asked incredulously. He remembered his ba'buir as a fair and forgiving man, but he had also heard he was not someone you wanted to anger.

 

"He understood everything." Hamar shifted and turned to look Karel in the eye. "Karel, the trials aren't meant to be some sort of impossible mission you'd need a miracle to complete. They are more of a demonstration of what you have learned. I'm not planning to throw you against a greater krayt dragon, give you a stick and tell you to kill it." They laughed and Karel relaxed hearing his father's words. "Yes, I will challenge you. But I'm not going to put you against anything I'm not absolutely sure you're ready for."

 

"Thanks Dad, I really needed to hear that." Karel gave his father a light side hug, careful not to overwork himself with his current condition.

 

"Come on, eat your dinner and get some rest. You really need it."

 

Karel smiled at his father as he stood to leave. Hamar smiled back at him as he left and the door closed. Karel looked at his dinner, then back at his armor which had been discarded to the side during their talk. He picked up his helmet from where he had left it and held it in his hands.

 

"I'll be alright."

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: The Trial

Two months later, Jereth VI

 

The Gray Hawk set down on a small clearing among the forests of Jereth VI. Large trees of an unknown species filled Karel's view for kilometers as he and his father exited their ship. He looked around himself, knowing exactly what his father had in mind by bringing him here.

 

"Take off your armor," he ordered. Karel complied and started taking off his armor. "Gloves too," he added while Karel unclipped his gauntlets. Karel finished removing the rest of his armor until he was down to only his flight suit and boots.

 

"Now what?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

 

"Now you have to survive."

 

Hamar handed him a piece of folded flimsiplast. On it was a map with three points marked, as well as their respective coordinates and some landmarks.

 

"We are here," Hamar said, pointing to the lowest point in the map. He moved his finger to the waypoint that was somewhere in the middle section of the trail but slightly to the left of the shortest, more direct route to the third point. "You have to get here. There is an object there that you have to recover. You will know how to get to it once you're there." He moved his hand towards the last point in the map. "After you've done that, go here. You have three days starting now." He reached for his combat knife sheathed on the back of his belt and offered it to Karel. "This is all you can take with you. Give me the map."

 

Karel took one last close look at the map before returning it and taking the knife. They hugged in silence for a moment before Karel pulled back. He nodded to his father and started walking away without looking back, showing his newly found resolve and confidence in himself.

 

"Karel?" Hamar called from a distance and Karel turned back to look at him. His face showed no fear of his task, only a will of iron. Mandalorian iron.

 

"K'oyacyi!" Hamar shouted.

 

Karel allowed himself a brief smile and nodded again. "Oya!"

 

He turned back and kept walking, disappearing into the forest. Once he was far out of sight, Hamar took a small beskar ring from one of his belt pouches and held it in his right hand. It was encrusted with a small Meryx gemstone, one of the rarest gemstones in the galaxy. It appeared white and clouded, but when held at a certain angle, the light made it shine gold instead.

 

"Watch over our ad'ika, will you?"

 

**********

 

The night was dark, and the ground was cold as Karel looked up to see the sky. It was a moonless night, but it was clear enough that he could estimate his position using the stars on the sky as a compass. After making some calculations he determined he had walked about half of the 120-kilometer distance to the endpoint. He was close to the waypoint, but it was right in the center of a mountain range some ten kilometers away. On his way he had found some plants and insects he knew were edible, so at least he wouldn't be hungry for now. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, hoping to get some rest before his trek through the mountains tomorrow.

 

For a few hours he had no dreams, only seeing darkness. It came as a solace for him, as his dreams were usually not very pleasant. Familiar voices started to echo in his mind. First they were soft, humming a familiar melody barely above a whisper, like a mother soothing her child to sleep. Then a deeper, more raspy, but still calming voice joined in. Images started to flash through his mind. Memories of Karel and his mother cooking together, of his grandfather telling him stories of his youth, of them playing in the woods together, of the attack on their clan.

 

Before the nightmares got worse, a howling sound in the distance woke Karel up with a start. He got up and immediately pulled his knife as he scanned his surroundings. Two clamberwolves appeared from the trees in front of him and started to circle him. He turned his back against the fire and started moving in circles too as he waited for them to attack. From the corner of his eye he spotted the one on his left leaping towards him and he turned as fast as he could. Though his current position did not allow him to attack with the knife, he managed to land a punch at the beast's jaw with the handle of the knife, throwing it against the flames. The wolf whined in pain and ran off as the one on the right leaped at him. Karel turned just in time to stab the animal through the chest, killing it instantly.

 

He pulled the knife out as he got up and looked for the first clamberwolf. As he was turning towards the treeline, the animal jumped on him from a nearby tree, pinning him down. The knife was knocked out of his hand as he raised his arms to protect his exposed throat. After some moments of struggle between the two he managed to grab its head and twisted it until its neck snapped. With a whine it collapsed lifeless on top of him as he panted for air. He shoved the body off of him and got up, picked up his knife and cleaned it with one of the wolves' skins.

 

He looked around and was relieved to find no more predators lurking upon him. He looked back at his fire, now just a pile of smoke and ash, and sighed deeply. He hadn't been able to sleep longer than just a couple of hours, but he wasn't going to get any more rest now. He looked to the horizon and saw that it was almost dawn. He started walking towards the mountains, hoping to get a head start before the day began.

 

**********

 

"Ba'buir, why do we live here?"

 

"Where?"

 

"In the mountains. You always say the terrain is dangerous, that we must be careful with the animals and watch where we're going. So why do we live here?"

 

Toruk laughed to himself, confusing his grandson. He did not stop walking as they had almost reached the top of a mountain ridge.

 

"That is precisely why we live here, Karel."

 

"So we live here because it's dangerous?" Karel asked, confused.

 

"Exactly. When our ancestors first set foot on this planet many generations ago, it was very similar to how it is now. They filled the woods with dangerous creatures from other worlds. The air is thin at these altitudes, and even the smallest misstep could mean certain death. But if you can survive here, then you can survive anywhere."

 

They stopped as they reached the summit and absorbed the breathtaking scene. They looked down on the valley where their clan's stronghold was located. A galaar flew among the clear skies and landed on the stronghold as it looked over the frozen lake.

 

"And besides," Toruk added, "you'll find that the view from up here is well worth the effort."

 

**********

 

Karel admired the similar scenery of these mountains as he smiled at the memory and laughed to himself. He was standing on a clearing at the top of the tallest mountain of this planet. He started walking among the trees that surrounded him, inspecting everything from the dry leaves and the rocks on the ground to the branches and the bark at the top of the trees in search of the object he had to retrieve or a clue of some kind. He was starting to doubt he was at the right coordinates when he stumbled upon a tree that had been marked, probably by a clamberwolf that was trying to set a trap for its prey. He looked down and started digging at the roots of the tree until he hit something solid. He couldn't see it very well, but he managed to uncover enough of it to pull it from the ground. It was extremely heavy, and it took him a great effort to get it out. He began wondering what could be this heavy, when he finally managed to pull it out of the hole and laid eyes on the magna-safe in front of him.

 

He spotted another piece of flimsi that was stuck to the back of the safe. He grabbed the sheet and began reading the message written on it. It was a mixture of characters from Huttese, Twi'leki and other languages that Karel had learned. He quickly managed to translate the text to Aurebesh for simplicity in little time, but the result was an assortment of letters that made no sense. He tried translating it again two times more, thinking he might have mixed up letters from different alphabets during the initial translation, but it became clear after his third try that he had to find an alternative.

 

He tried using an advanced encryption technique that his father had taught him, along with many of the more lesser, but still somewhat complicated methods he knew. When none of them seemed to give him a real answer, he tried the most basic one he knew. It consisted of switching every letter for the one a fixed number of places down the Aurebesh alphabet. Aurek became Dorn, Besh became Esk, and so on. Letter by letter he translated the decoded message and wrote it on the ground.

 

A million wars my children have fought. A million children I have lost. Flesh of my flesh, spirit of my spirit. They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted, and fell with their faces to the foe. They now sleep beyond my reach as I mourn for their deaths across the stars. For each star you see is the soul of one of my children, and with their light they guide you in your way. Remember them, for you are one of them. This is my story. This is your story. This is your past. This is your future. Who am I?

 

Karel paced around for a few minutes as he thought of an answer for the riddle. He mumbled to himself various possible answers and the reasons why he discarded each of them. What could it be? Was there any clue he didn't know of? He started reading the riddle again and tried using many passwords, but none worked. Eventually he gave up and sat on the ground in front of the riddle.

 

"Haar'chak," he muttered in defeat. He looked at the trees around him and started thinking of Belsak, of Mandalore, of home. "Home," he whispered, then froze as his mind got lost in a train of thought and realization dawned on him. "Home, home, home," he repeated over and over as he crawled towards the safe and typed the word in the safe.

 

He saw bliss as the safe opened and he began laughing like a madman. Slowly, he opened the door, not knowing what to expect to find inside. He peered inside and found only a small wooden box. He opened it and inside he found the same ring his father kept, next to which was another flimsi note. The note read 'Family is home'.

 

Karel smiled to himself as he remembered that same ring being worn by his late mother. He shed a few tears and quickly wiped them away, before keeping the ring in his flight suit's inner pocket. He still had to climb down the mountains and reach the extraction point, and he had already lost the first half of the day. Furthermore, he would have to make his descent before nightfall, as doing so in the dark would be extremely risky. But he knew what to do, and with renewed confidence he kept walking towards his next and final objective.

 

---

 

A cool breeze blew, sending a shiver down Karel's spine. Though he had managed to climb down most of the mountains the previous day before night fell, he was forced to take refuge in a small cave when it began to rain. The rain lasted all night, and Karel resumed his march just after sunrise. He had already left the mountains behind by dawn, and by noon he had almost finished his trek. It seemed that everything was going well as he began climbing down a sheer cliff that marked his last real obstacle, after which he would only have to walk ten kilometers more.

 

A sudden gust of wind hit him and he lost his footing. He was left hanging from one arm as he desperately tried to hold to the cliff face, and he was quickly losing his grip. The rock he was holding from gave way and he fell to the base of the cliff, instinctively rolling upon impact to try to dissipate the force of the fall.

 

"Son of a-!"

 

His breathing came out in ragged pants as he cursed in every language he knew. He bit his flight suit as a sharp pain traveled down his right leg and to his ankle. He carefully removed his boot so he could see the full extent of his injury, wincing at what he saw. His foot was severely bruised on and around his ankle and was taking a black and blue coloring. Relying upon his training, he tore shreds of fabric off his flight suit and pulled out his knife. He carefully placed the weapon on top of the injured area and tied the torn fabric strips around it as an improvised splint. It worked, and with great difficulty he managed to stand up, grunting as he did so, and being careful not to put weight on his bad foot yet. He took a deep breath before taking one tentative step, only to fall back to his knees. He got up determinedly and took another step slowly, drawing a hiss as he took another step, then another, and another. After a few minutes of limping on his bad leg and being barely able to stand on it he found a creek that flowed downhill, and which led directly to the endpoint. Dipping his foot in the cool water came as a relief and the pain became barely tolerable. He started walking along the stream, occasionally falling to the water only to stand up again. Nothing would stop him when he was this close of accomplishing what had taken him so long to prepare for.

 

**********

 

After checking the map for the seventh time in an hour, Hamar started pacing around as he waited for Karel. He had confidence in his son, but that didn't mean he would worry any less about him. His gaze flickered to a small chronometer in the upper left corner of his HUD. 1719 hours. Something was definitely not right, Karel should have arrived hours ago. It was getting late and the sun would set in a few hours, and there was no sign of Karel. What if he was lost? Or worse?

 

His train of thought was interrupted by the rustling of the bushes behind him and he turned to the source of the sound. There stood Karel wearing his ragged flight suit and covered in dirt and blood, holding his boot in one hand while using the other one to lean against a tree. Hamar ran to hold his son after three days of not knowing if he was even alive.

 

"Karel!" he yelled as he slung Karel's arm around his shoulders. He looked down and saw the injured foot that was quickly swelling and he took off his helmet with his free hand. "What happened?"

 

He carefully set him down on the ship's boarding ramp and moved to check his foot, grazing his fingers over the bruise.

 

"The wind threw me off a cliff ten klicks away and I had to make do with what I had. I think it's sprained."

 

Hamar was overtaken by an odd sense of pride and a small smile appeared on his face. He kept examining the wound and fished a stim pack from one of his belt pouches.

 

"Fractured, actually," he stated as he injected the stimulant. Karel muffled a yelp before sighing as the swelling and the pain lessened dramatically. "Hold on, I'll go get the medkit."

 

Hamar ran inside the ship and returned with the medkit. He used the bone stabilizer to set and mend the broken bone, after which he sprayed the area with bacta to accelerate the healing process and immobilized it with a spray splint.

 

"Come on, let's get you inside." He leaned down to help Karel stand up, but he put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

 

"Wait," he whispered. "Say it."

 

"Say what?" Hamar asked incredulously. Once he saw Karel was injured he had completely forgotten about the verd'goten. Karel reached into his flight suit and grabbed the ring he had retrieved. He took his father's hand and gave him the ring.

 

"Say it," he repeated in an even yet low voice.

 

Hamar chuckled as he closed his fist around the ring, before bringing Karel in for a short hug. He held him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.

 

"Well done, son. You passed."

 

Karel's lips parted into a grin and he returned the hug. Hamar picked up the medkit and helped Karel get up and inside the ship. He seated him on the co-pilot seat, before he himself moved to sit on the pilot seat. The ship took off and began rising through the skies, and Karel leaned back on his seat as the stars turned into streaks and they made the jump to hyperspace.

 

**********

 

The Hawk set down at the landing pad on Tipoca City in Kamino. The rain had seemingly stopped for now, although the skies were still as dark as usual. Karel walked down the ship's boarding ramp as he leaned against his father, who was holding him from the side in case he fell. The bacta had done its job and he wasn't in pain anymore, but it would be some time until he could walk properly on his own. Mira and Fenn were waiting for them near their apartment, and as soon as she saw Karel she ran towards him. His breath hitched as she barrels into his chest and starts muttering something about "damned Mandalorians always trying to prove they're tough" when she sees his leg.

 

"Hey, in case you haven't noticed he made it out alive," Hamar said. That earned him a sharp glance from Mira, who finally released Karel and stepped back.

 

"No thanks to you," she retorted, jabbing him in the chest.

 

"Actually it is thanks to me, I taught him everything he needed to survive out there."

 

Hamar shrugged her off and crossed his arms triumphantly. Although had been acting similarly a few hours ago, he had calmed down once he saw Karel was still in relatively good shape and in no real danger. Fenn moved to stand between them, trying to defuse the situation. Karel meanwhile was happy to stand back and watch the show as she ranted about how irresponsible Hamar was as a father, once again showing her softer side for Karel.

 

"Did he pass?" Fenn asked over his shoulder to Hamar, which only seemed to infuriate the woman in front of them.

 

"He's injured and that's what you're worried about?!" she exclaimed indignated.

 

"Passed with flying colors," Hamar said as he moved from behind Fenn and back with Karel.

 

Mira sighed in resignation as Karel opened the door to their apartment and walked inside, leaning against the wall.

 

"Wait here," Hamar instructed as Karel sat in the living room.

 

Hamar walked into his quarters and returned moments later dragging a big, heavy-looking chest behind him and carefully put it down in front of Karel.

 

"This belongs to you now."

 

"What is that?" Mira asked.

 

"I think he already knows," Hamar replied, smiling at Karel. "Go on, you've earned it."

 

With shaking hands, Karel slowly leaned in and opened the chest. He peeked inside briefly and looked at his father, who simply smiled at his expression of shock.

 

"He would have wanted you to have it."

 

Karel opened the chest fully and leaned to inspect its contents. A brown flak vest with armor plates painted in grey with green details laid on the left side of the chest, under which were a grey flight suit, more armor plates, and dark brown leather boots and belts. Next to them was the most important part of the armor: the helmet. Almost identical to most Mandalorian helmets of its time, the only major difference wasn't any outlandish gadget or a top-of-the-line battle computer, but a humble pair of stylized beskar fangs painted white that adorned the cheeks on each side of the visor. An outsider would pass them as just a fashion choice, but for Mandalorians it was far from that. It was the symbol of the leader of Clan Jansek.

 

"Pure beskar mined in Mandalore 800 years ago. It's been in our clan for almost fifteen generations," said Hamar. Karel slowly took the helmet in his hands and held it in the air. "Your grandfather wore it during the war. And his father before him, and so on."

 

"But you-"

 

"I already have an armor," Hamar interjected, knowing what Karel was going to say. "Sooner or later it would have been passed down to you anyway. You deserve it."

 

Karel turned back to the helmet, slowly tracing the fangs and the visor. He then looked at Mira, who had tears in her eyes and smiled proudly at him. Fenn placed an arm on his shoulder and although he couldn't see his face behind his helmet, he was sure he was smiling as well. Karel tapped his forehead to that of the helmet and smiled to himself.

 

**********

 

A door hissed open and Karel walked through it to where the others were waiting for him. His father was there with Delta Company, as were Mira and Fenn, who had brought along a few of their curious cadets. Even Jango had shown up with a few of the other trainers, mostly fellow Mandalorians.

 

"So, how is it?" Hamar asked.

 

Karel was at a loss of words. The new beskar armor was heavy, very heavy. He took another careful step with his injured leg. His ankle was still hurting a bit as it wasn't fully healed yet, but he paid no attention to it. His mind was still catching up to the feeling of his new armor.

 

Through his visor he saw his left gauntlet and slowly clashed it against his left chest plate. The characteristic sound of two pieces of beskar clanging was dull and heavy, and it echoed through the room. His helmet reverberated with the sound and he was barely able to put his thoughts into words.

 

"I think I'm in love..."

 

Not even Jango could help but laugh out loud.

Chapter 5: Chapter 5: The Sergeant

25 BBY, one year later

 

A man in Mandalorian armor walked through the hallways of Tipoca City. It was a very common sight, but something was different about him today. Jango Fett was known as a man who rarely showed emotion, but right now one could feel the anger emanating from him.

 

"Have you seen Goraq?" he asked, frustrated, to one of the other training sergeants that was walking through the hallways.

 

"Isn't he training his batch?"

 

"Apparently not," Jango replied through gritted teeth, before storming off to the quarters of the man in question.

 

When he began looking for the bounty hunters that would train the batches of clone commanders that would lead the clone army, Goraq was not his first choice. However, the death of one of his candidates during what seemed like a routine job left him with no choice but to offer the deal to Goraq, who promptly accepted when told of the substantial sum of credits he would receive upon the completion of his contract. Goraq was, in many ways, your stereotypical bounty hunter. Driven only by credits, his honor was nonexistent and he was willing to sell his loyalty for the right price or a bottle of Whyren's Reserve, whichever came first. Still, his brutality and ambition made the native of Nar Shaddaa one of the best bounty hunters in Hutt Space.

 

Fett arrived at Goraq's quarters, having already thought of ten ways to kill him. He knocked on the door as loud as he could and called for Goraq. Once he heard no reply he sliced the controls with ease. The door opened with a hiss and he walked inside the small apartment. For a man with Goraq's reputation, he at least had the decency of having cleaned his place that morning.

 

"Goraq! Where are you?" Jango called, but once again got no answer.

 

He went to the bedroom only to find the bed made and the room spotless. Jango was getting even more furious now. He already risked enough letting Hamar and Karel leave Kamino, but at least they knew how to keep their mouths shut. Goraq had no such restraint and Jango could already picture him drinking in some cantina and telling everyone about the secret clone army the Republic was making, much to his dismay. He started thinking about what Tyranus would do to him if he found out about this, and that almost made him shiver with fear knowing what the man was capable of.

 

"Goraq, if you don't answer I-!"

 

He stopped once he opened the door to the refresher and found Goraq laying on the floor with a blaster in his hand and a hole in his head.

 

Jango sighed as he kneeled and took the blaster. In many ways, he was not surprised. Recently Goraq had been asking for permission to leave Kamino, but everytime he was dismissed. He never said why he needed to leave, other than being sick of being stuck on Kamino. His pleas had temporarily ceased once Jango said he would kill him if he left, but that only seemed to have driven him further over the edge. Jango stood up and grabbed one of the blankets in the bedroom's closet, laying it over the body, before walking out of the apartment.

 

**********

 

"Why did Jango call an emergency meeting?" Karel asked.

 

"I don't know. But whatever it is it must be important," Fenn replied.

 

They were in the fighter simulators when Jango called everyone to the Central Armory immediately. As they arrived they met up with Hamar and Mira, who were as confused as them. The place was packed with all the trainers that had been recruited for this project. Most of them were Mandalorians like Jango, who were a natural choice due to their warrior-based culture. The Central Armory was filled with hushed conversations as Jango walked in and everyone turned their attention to him.

 

"I'll be straight. Goraq is dead," he said, coldly, before elaborating. "After he didn’t appear to train his batch this morning I went to his quarters and found him dead. He shot himself."

 

There was a short moment of silence in the room, more out of shock than respect for Goraq. He was seen by many as selfish, rude and arrogant. Few people, if any, would miss him. However, there was still one question that hung in the air.

 

"What will happen to his batch?" one of the non-Mandalorian trainers asked, referring to the batch of 32 clone commanders that were now without a training sergeant.

 

"I don’t know," Fett admitted. "His batch is barely above the parameters and they are last in their combat scores, and there is talk among the Kaminoans to recondition them. I’m open to ideas."

 

Everyone began to speak in hushed tones as they came up with possible ideas. Without doubting it, Karel stepped in front of the group and gave his solution.

 

"I'll do it."

 

"What?" his father asked, shocked, as everyone turned their eyes to him.

 

"I’ll do it," he repeated. "I’ll train the clones."

 

Karel could see a couple of the non-Mandalorian trainers trying to stiff a laugh, thinking that he was joking. He was tempted for a moment to go over to them and show them how serious he actually was, but ultimately decided against it for the sake of not having to replace more dead trainers.

 

"Are you sure?" Hamar asked.

 

"I’ve helped you train the commandos since I was nine. I know every exercise, simulation and training course the clones have. Bringing that experience to the commanders could help improve their scores," he replied, confident. "And I don’t see anyone else volunteering..." he added, glaring at the trainers that were laughing at him a moment ago. Everyone then looked expectantly at Fett, waiting to see how he would react to the idea.

 

"Any objections?" he asked with a neutral voice.

 

The two men that had been laughing stayed quiet, as did everyone else.

 

"It's settled then. Come with me, we’ll introduce you to your new men."

 

Jango walked out of the room and towards the barracks, followed closely by Karel and Hamar.

 

"Are you nervous? Hamar asked.

 

"I guess I can’t back out of this anymore. Don’t worry dad, I got this," Karel replied, smiling under his helmet.

 

A few moments later they arrived at the barracks. Unlike the barracks of the regular clone troopers, those of the clone commanders were slightly better, with bunk beds instead of the regular pod beds. One of the clones called his batchmates to attention upon seeing their template approach with the other two Mandalorians in tow. In seconds they were standing in two rows in front of their beds.

 

"I regret to inform you that Sergeant Goraq will not be training you anymore. Sergeant Jansek here will take over your training," Jango said, motioning behind him at Karel. He took a step forward to stand next to Jango while he kept talking. "You will continue with your training as usual under his supervision. I’ll leave you so you can get acquainted."

 

Jango turned to Karel and they nodded to each other, after which Fett and Hamar left without a word. The door closed and Karel took off his helmet, revealing his young-looking face to his new trainees. He ran a hand through his hair, which he kept in a crew cut to help to keep his helmet in place. A few of the clones looked shocked to see someone so young being appointed as their new training sergeant.

 

"I imagine you’re wondering what happened to your previous sergeant, but I'm afraid I do not possess that knowledge," Karel said, pulling the men out of their thoughts. He reasoned it was best not to tell them the truth right now as it might damage their morale, and just in case Jango wanted to keep that a secret. "I will now answer all questions you may have about me without fear of repercussions."

 

The clones looked hesitant to speak, until one at the middle of the left row stepped forward and nervously asked the question the rest of his brothers surely had.

 

"Sir, please excuse me," the clone said, stammering. He took a slow gulp before continuing. "How... old are you, sir?

 

"What's your name, cadet?"

 

"Sir, CC-1004, sir," the clone replied quickly.

 

"I asked your name, not your number. What's your name?"

 

"I, uh, I don't have one, sir. Sergeant Goraq always called us by our numbers," 1004 said, confused. "When he remembered them that is," he added bitterly.

 

Karel shook his head in disapproval and muttered, "Goraq, gar di'kut."

 

Hearing the Mandalorian speak in his native tongue seemed to intrigue 1004, and he was very much looking forward to learning as much as he could about him.

 

"Well I don’t work like that," Karel said as he began pacing up and down in front of the men with his helmet under his arm. "I expect that by the end of your training, each and every one of you will have a name that you will choose yourselves. If you don’t choose one, your brothers will choose it for you, and if they don’t, then I will. Despite what your former sergeant or the Kaminoans may think, you are not just a number. You are not droids, but men. You are individuals, living beings, and a name helps define you as such. Each one of you has your own strengths, weaknesses, skills and abilities that you will have to learn to use to your advantage. And to answer your question, I am fourteen years old. Mandalorians are considered adults after completing their verd'goten at the age of thirteen."

 

"What's the...?"

 

"Verd’goten," Karel finished for him. "It’s the traditional rite of passage for Mandalorians that marks the transition from child to adult. They are meant to test your military and survival skills and upon completion you are legally considered an adult in Mandalorian culture. Usually you begin training at the age of eight but I began at seven."

 

Another clone near the front of the line stepped forward. "Sir. What kind of training methods will you be implementing?"

 

"I’ve helped train the commandos since I was nine years old so I intend to integrate several aspects of their training into yours. Choosing your names is one of those aspects. Hopefully it will be more than enough to improve your scores significantly and turn you into the commanders you are expected to be," he explained as he walked back to the door and turned to the men. "Any other questions?" he finished with a harsh tone, which made the clones stand back at attention.

 

"Sir, no, sir!" they replied in unison.

 

"Very well. If there is nothing else then I will see you all tomorrow at 0500 hours for our first exercise of the day."

 

With that he left the barracks. The clones split in groups to talk about the unexpected turn of events. Some of them thought it was a joke, while others were more concerned with what happened with their former trainer. One of them kept looking at the door, still processing the news.

 

"A kid? They’re letting a kid train us?!" he yelled, thinking out loud.

 

"He's an adult," one of his brothers stated, matter-of-factly.

 

"He's fourteen!"

 

"And a Mandalorian," another clone added emphatically. "Look, if Fett trusts him to train us then I don’t care how old he is. I’m just glad we're not dealing with Goraq anymore. It’s no secret he wasn’t exactly fond of us. At least with him we can have a name."

 

"Didn’t he say he helped train the commandos? I wonder what he has planned for us," the second clone said.

 

"I guess we'll find out soon."

Chapter 6: Chapter 6: The Rescue

22 BBY, one week after the Battle of Geonosis, Akiva

 

An LAAT/i gunship, nicknamed "Clanker Scrapper" by its crew, landed on the busy air base located over the Canyon of Akar, near the Northern Jungles. Karel and Hamar exited the craft and headed for the command center, where the newly promoted Jedi General Fisto was waiting for their report on the defenses of the capital city of Myrra.

 

"Get some rest. I'll go talk with the Jedi," Hamar said.

 

Karel nodded and walked away from the command center. Unlike many Mandalorians he had no qualms about working with the Jedi, and he even respected their skills in combat, but found their lack of strategic knowledge to be worrying at best. Eventually he found a small clearing near the edge of the base overlooking a forest of Asuka trees. He sighed as he sat on the edge of the canyon with his legs dangling in the air and opened a picture of Delta Company and one of his commander batch in his HUD. The battle of Geonosis had been a decisive victory for the Republic, but a costly one.

 

Although the Mandalorian-trained commandos had relatively few casualties overall, Delta Company could not say the same. They alone suffered 46% casualties, and Karel's batch of commanders fared even worse. Batch 11-7 landed on Geonosis with 32 of the best clone commanders the GAR had at its disposal, and when the dust had settled only 9 of them remained. He still remembered how he and his father kept track of the battle from Kamino and watched helplessly as their men were slaughtered in the chaos of battle. What was worse for him was not that they had died, but the fact that he could never say goodbye to any of them. The army had been called to action immediately and there had been no time for farewells before the men had to leave for Geonosis.

 

Knowing they couldn't just do nothing while their men were dying, Hamar and Karel joined the GAR, serving as part of the Special Operations Brigade. They were no longer training sergeants like on Kamino, but Lieutenant Colonel and Master Chief respectively. Originally they were both going to be given the rank of Master Chief, but it was decided to give Hamar a higher rank due to his experience as a veteran of the Mandalorian Civil War and to establish an official command hierarchy between them.

 

Due to the lack of experienced commanders at the outbreak of the war, Hamar was also given command of 08 Commando battalion, one of the ten Commando Groups that made up the Special Operations Brigade. It, like the other Commando Groups, was comprised of five companies of 100 commandos each: Fang, Hornet, Nexu, Rathtar and Wampa. The remnants of Hamar's Delta Company and Mira's Epsilon Company were reorganized into Fang Company, which Karel now commanded, as well as serving as second-in-command of Zero Eight Commando.

 

Karel smirked to himself at the strange turn of events and reached to remove his helmet. He froze as the panicked voice of a clone came over the comms, frantically calling for help. The background noise of explosions, shouted orders and blaster fire made it difficult to discern the message itself, but Karel managed to filter the audio so that only the clone's voice was heard.

 

"This is RC-3382! We're pinned down! We need immediate evacuation!"

 

A 6-man special forces reconnaissance team, comprised of the four commandos of Fang Company's Viper Squad and two ARF troopers, was surrounded by a battalion numbering 1,000 super battle droids. Their mission had been to gather intelligence about confirmed large-scale enemy activity in the Northern Jungles. Everyone in the unit had been killed or wounded in earlier fighting, and three of the gunships sent to rescue them had been unable to extract them due to heavy enemy fire.

 

A trio of gunships flew overhead, trailing smoke as they headed to the base. Karel leapt to his feet and rushed to the landing pad. He and the ground crews ran towards the gunships to unload the wounded members of the extraction team. A trooper collapsed in Karel's arms, his chest riddled with blaster bolts.

 

"Trooper? Trooper, can you hear me?!"

 

The trooper remained silent, and Karel could hear how he breathed his final breath. A medic arrived and laid the lifeless body on a stretcher carried by two other troopers. Karel's gaze lingered as the medics kept moving the wounded to the aid station.

 

There was no way Karel was going to leave his friends out in the jungle. He grabbed a medical backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and jumped onto a returning gunship that was going back in, volunteering so quickly that he didn't have time to get a blaster rifle, so he was only armed with his dual Westar-35 pistols and medical supplies. For him, it was like going into autopilot.

 

**********

 

The meeting with General Fisto was actually going much better than Hamar had expected. Most of the few Jedi he had met in the past few days were capable warriors, but they were also too arrogant and rigid for his liking. They were not willing to listen to others' input on battle tactics, and they had an air of superiority that made them unbearable, which is why he was surprised when General Fisto asked for his advice regarding the ongoing campaign to take the planet. He was much more laid-back than most of his peers, and had a good sense of humor that helped to inspire and motivate his troops. For a moment he thought of how different he was to General Windu.

 

While most Mandalorians will remember the man for having killed Jango Fett during the opening battle of the Clone Wars, Hamar and Karel were more resentful for the five commando squads of Delta Company he sent to their deaths on Geonosis. They were as close to Jango as one could hope to be, but their relationship with him was still purely professional, not a friendship. And from their point of view, Fett had chosen his fate when he allied himself with Count Dooku. But Hamar, and Karel even if he wouldn't admit it, could not help but feel bad for Boba. That poor boy was alone in a dangerous galaxy and was barely ten years old. The last thing they heard about him was that he had somehow made it out of Geonosis after witnessing his father's death at the hands of General Windu.

 

"General Fisto!" a clone trooper called, pulling Hamar out of his thoughts. He rushed to stand in front of the Jedi General and said, "General, the transports you sent to retrieve the special forces team were unable to extract them. They're trapped."

 

"Have more gunships been sent?" General Fisto asked, calmly.

 

"One, sir. Master Chief Jansek appears to be with them."

 

Hamar froze in shock at the mention of his son by rank. General Fisto and the trooper looked at Hamar, who seemed to be as confused as them. His heart was racing as he hastily activated his comlink and contacted Karel. He was slightly relieved as the hologram of his Mandalorian armor came to life.

 

"Karel! What in the name of Mandalore do you think you're doing?!" Hamar yelled through the transmission.

 

"What you taught me."

 

"Karel, listen to me. Those men are outnumbered over 150 to 1!"

 

"Then it is an even fight," Karel interrupted. "I'm not going to let my friends get killed while I did nothing. Not again."

 

The call was abruptly ended by Karel, and Hamar slammed his fist against the holotable in frustration.

 

"I assume he learnt that from you, Colonel?" General Fisto asked with a smirk. He didn't appear to be angry, instead sounded amused. He was trying to make light of the situation and calm Hamar, with limited success.

 

"I wish he didn't."

 

**********

 

As he was approaching the extraction zone, Karel realized the team members were too severely wounded to run the distance to the gunship, so he directed the pilot to a nearby clearing where he jumped from the hovering gunship to the ground. There was so much enemy fire that the pilot had to zigzag in an attempt to dodge it, but was nevertheless able to provide covering fire for Karel. While under heavy enemy fire he ran to the team's position about 75 meters away. Halfway there he was hit in his right leg and took another glancing shot to the head. Undeterred and shrugging off the pain with equal parts adrenaline and determination, he managed to reach the downed team.

 

He found a commando with dark green armor markings first, which he recognized as RC-7319 "Cale". He was leaning against a tree and his left eyeball had been shot out and was hanging down his cheek, but he was determined to keep shooting back.

 

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Cale yelled.

 

"Saving your lives," Karel replied as he ran to Cale. He knelt next to him, then started cleaning the area around his eye socket and tended to his other wounds.

 

"You shouldn't have come here."

 

"Nothing we can do about that now. Hold still," Karel instructed as he injected a stim pack in Cale's neck.

 

"No, you weren't supposed to die like this. Not like us."

 

Karel stopped what he was doing and looked at Cale in his non-injured eye.

 

"Listen, I don't care if you were born for this. I'm not going to leave you all to die while I did nothing. Now shut up and keep shooting."

 

Cale smiled for what looked to be the first time that day, then started changing the power pack of his DC-17m.

 

"Did I ever tell you you're a pain in the shebs?" he joked. A clipping sound came from Cale's blaster, indicating that the power pack had been inserted correctly, and was followed by a burst of blaster fire.

 

"You did. But if you thought you were going to get rid of me by getting killed then you're terribly mistaken," Karel replied. "Are you ready?"

 

Cale nodded firmly and gritted his teeth as Karel carefully put the dangling eye back in its socket. After he was done he put a bacta patch over the eye and helped Cale get up.

 

The other men were in a pool of blood, so Karel patched them up as best he could. Once he was finished he dragged everyone into a defensible position to direct their fire to the enemy, and provided bacta and painkillers to the wounded. He then saw Andur, one of the other members of Viper Squad, and an ARF trooper who he motioned them to move over to him, but the blaster fire started again, and they took cover. Another shot hit Karel in his thigh. Through the heavy blaster fire, Karel could hear the faint humming of the gunship's engines as it circled around them.

 

"Sir, the canopy is too thick! I can't find a spot to land!" the pilot shouted in the comms.

 

Karel and the men were next to a small clearing just large enough for the gunship to land. Fresh out of options, and knowing that it would reveal their location to the nearby enemy artillery units, Karel popped two smoke grenades he had taken from Cale's backpack.

 

"I see it!" the pilot said as a plume of green smoke arose through the canopy. "Make it fast!"

 

While everyone who could move got into the gunship, Karel drew his blaster pistols and started suppressing the treeline, from which a group of about ten super battle droids was emerging.

 

"Move!" he shouted to Andur and the ARF trooper, who crawled towards the gunship.

 

Karel then started searching for the squad leader, RC-3382 "Kai", and shortly after found his dead body slumped over a tree trunk. Half of his yellow-marked chest armor had been blown off, exposing his ribs and internal organs. A nearby explosion forced Karel to take cover behind the same tree. Half of the men were already on board, so Karel started dragging Kai's body to the gunship. Another blaster bolt hit him in the stomach, just to the side of his abdomen plate, and a B2-HA super battle droid fired a rocket at him. The rocket landed just to his right and exploded, sending him flying through the air. He landed a few meters away from Kai's body, and his vision slowly turned to black before he passed out.

 

---

 

Karel began to come around to the sound of blaster fire all around him and an intense ringing in his ears. He was laying face down against the ground, and his helmet had somehow come off. As he looked to his left he saw his own helmet looking back at him. The visor had been shattered and there were sparks coming off from inside the helmet. With all his strength he pushed himself off the ground and got on one knee. He brought a shaking hand to his forehead, only to realize he was bleeding deeply. As he tried to stand up fully he fell back to his knees. He looked down and only then did he realize the full extent of his injuries. His armor had absorbed most of the blast from the rocket, but not all of it.

 

His right foot was severely damaged, toes were blown off and his entire foot was shattered. The muscle and even the bone could be seen through the blasted leather of his boot; burning shrapnel pounded his right leg. Disaster had also struck, and as he looked around himself he saw their gunship had crashed to the ground from enemy fire. Karel crawled to Kai's body and removed the helmet from the corpse. He extracted the helmet's memory bank, which contained classified intel that could not fall into enemy hands.

 

"I'm sorry, ner vod," he whispered as he closed Kai's lifeless eyes.

 

Karel injected himself with a stim pack and grabbed his helmet. While in excruciating pain he managed to get up and make his way to the wreckage. Three of the men on board survived, as did Andur and one of ARF troopers, who didn't get into the gunship. One-by-one he pulled everyone out of the smoldering gunship and organized them around the wreckage, setting up a perimeter around the crash site.

 

"This is Hunter One. Does anyone copy?" a clone pilot called over the comms. Two Y-Wing bombers appeared in the distance and Karel breathed a sigh of relief.

 

"Hunter One, we copy you! We need some help down here!" Karel replied using his left gauntlet's backup comlink.

 

"That's what we're here for. How close are the droids to your position?"

 

"Just hold a moment and I'll let you talk to one of the bastards!" he barked back. An artillery shell exploded so close that the pilot could hear it through the comms. "Blast anything more than 50 meters away from my position! Danger close, I repeat, danger close!"

 

"Copy your last. Stand by and keep your heads down."

 

The telltale high-pitched sound of the bombers approaching came as a relief to the beleaguered men. Flying fast and low, the bombers released a load of proton bombs on the group of super battle droids directly in front of Karel. A massive explosion shook the ground and sent droid parts flying meters up into the air while the men took cover from the blast. The bombers strafed the droid forces a few more times, every time being hit repeatedly by blaster fire on the ventral side of their fuselages.

 

"Sir, we're running out of fuel and bombs and we're heavily damaged! I'm not sure we'll be able to cover you for much longer!"

 

Karel cursed under his breath at the situation, but resigned himself to the fact that no other help was ever going to arrive for them. He gave Cale another shot of painkillers and was hit again, this time in the leg. Their position was surrounded by battle droids, and everywhere he looked he was met by volleys of blaster fire. It looked hopeless. He sighed in defeat, and was about to order the bombers to leave them when another voice spoke through the comms.

 

"This is Chariot One. Heard you boys needed a ride."

 

Three more LAAT/i gunships flying in Vic formation appeared through the smoke of the burning trees and fired their missiles and laser turrets at the droids that surrounded the team. The lead gunship, Chariot One, landed to extract the men, while Chariot Two and Three remained airborne and provided cover fire alongside the two bombers, Hunter One and Hunter Two. Karel and the rescue team carried and dragged the wounded men onto the gunship, but the landing zone was still being fired upon by the enemy.

 

Shrapnel wounds from earlier caused Karel's vision to be blurred from the blood in his eyes. He picked up his helmet and left it on board the gunship before continuing to load the wounded men aboard. When he went to get Kai's body, some sort of newer battle droid, more agile and acrobatic than its B2-series counterparts but with a similar frame to the B1-series, punched him in the jaw and slashed him with a vibrosword in the arm. The droid tried to stab Karel in the ribs but he reacted quickly and managed to evade the attack. The droid pinned Karel to the ground and climbed on top of him.

 

"Cale, blast it!" Karel shouted as he struggled with the droid.

 

"Can't... shoot," Cale murmured, too drugged from the painkillers to react.

 

The droid's vibrosword edged closer to Karel's throat. In a moment of desperation he activated his gauntlet blade and stabbed the droid in its chest. The droid recoiled from the attack and Karel took the opportunity to roll them so he stood over the droid and ripped its head off. He then dragged Cale to the gunship and spotted two super battle droids approaching from outside the side gunner's field of view. He picked up Kai's DC-17m and took aim, then destroyed the droids with two well-aimed shots to their photoreceptors.

 

He was getting tired now. The effect of the stim pack was wearing off and he was losing blood by the pint. Battered and exhausted, Karel made one last trip around the perimeter to make sure that all the wounded had been loaded onto the gunship. He was still not done yet, and loaded the newer battle droid into the gunship for Republic scientists to analyze. Finally, the Mandalorian passed out due to his injuries and was pulled aboard Chariot One by its crew. Badly shot up, the gunship managed to take off as the two bombers released their remaining payload on the enemy. The troopers of the extraction team looked at Karel's body in astonishment as they carefully laid him on the floor.

 

"Is this guy even human?" one of them asked.

 

"No," Cale replied, firmly. "He's a Mandalorian."

 

**********

 

When they landed, the wounded were unloaded and examined one-by-one. Karel was put to the side with the battle droid and the men that had not survived. The blood in his eyes had glued them shut, and the punch on his jaw had dislocated it. That and his own exhaustion after the 6-hour battle left him unable to speak or move to let anyone know he was still alive. It could not have helped that with 37 blaster, shrapnel and vibrosword wounds he looked dead.

 

The medic shook his head when he saw Karel's body and started covering him with a white blanket. Hamar yelled from a distance and ran to the landing pad, followed closely by General Fisto, who had to physically restrain the former to stop him from going into the fray. Hamar rushed over to his son's side and cried in horror seeing his mangled body, then fell to his knees and started sobbing uncontrollably as he held Karel's hand. His only remaining family was dead.

 

Or so he thought.

 

General Fisto stood behind Hamar and approached slowly. He could feel something in the Force, a faint presence that was slowly fading away.

 

"He's not dead," he whispered in shock. He moved to stand next to Hamar, putting a hand on Karel's shoulder. "He's still alive."

 

"Sir, with all due respect, there's no way someone could get injured to this degree and be anything but dead," the medic affirmed.

 

"I can feel it in the Force. He's fighting for his life."

 

"I'm sorry, but there is nothing that I can do," the medic responded.

 

He leaned down to finish covering Karel's body, who mustered his last bit of energy, and spat in the doctor's face. The troopers that had witnessed it were somewhere between shocked and amused. Hamar looked at Karel, then at General Fisto, who gave a hearty chuckle as the medic wiped the blood and spit from his face.

 

"Get him in a bacta tank immediately!" the Jedi General ordered. "I think he'll make it."

 

**********

 

Two weeks later, Republic Central Medcenter, Coruscant

 

Karel woke up as a sickly sweet smell hit his nostrils, making him feel woozy and nauseous. He could feel a similar taste in his lips, which he recognized as that of bacta.

 

"He's waking up!"

 

"Master Chief? Are you there?"

 

"Sir, can you hear me?"

 

He slowly opened his eyes, and was met by a bright, white light that blinded him for a moment. His vision was blurry but he could see three humanoid figures partially obscuring the light as they looked down at him.

 

"Karel, can you hear me?" a familiar voice called as if from a large distance.

 

Karel recognized it as his father's voice, and as his sight started to adjust he recognized the three figures as that of his father, General Fisto, and a clone medic.

 

"What happened?" he murmured.

 

His father and General Fisto held him from the arms and helped him sit up. He looked around himself and examined this new environment. He was laying in a bed in the middle of some metallic room, and next to him was a large monitor that was reading his vitals through cables connected to his right arm. His legs were covered by a white blanket, while he was dressed in some sort of medical robe. His armor was stacked in a pile at his feet with his helmet facing away from him. Directly in front of him was a large door. To his right was a small couch, and to his left was a large window through which a night skyline could be seen.

 

"Where am I?" he asked. He tried to sit higher up the bed but stopped at the sharp pain in his body. He pressed a hand to his abdomen as the men around him moved to help him.

 

"Easy, son. You don't remember what happened?" his father asked.

 

"We were on Akiva," Karel replied after a moment. "The droids had us surrounded, everyone was wounded. I must have passed out."

 

"You did," his father confirmed, but there was something off about his voice. "Karel, you... got pretty wounded back there. The doctors did their best... General Fisto even got some Jedi healers to help you, but..."

 

Hamar nodded at the medic, who moved to stand next to Karel's feet. He slowly lifted the bed sheets and where Karel's right foot once was, a new cybernetic replacement had taken its place, reaching to just above his ankle. Karel looked at the mechanical toes as they moved slowly one after the other and curled up. He plopped down on the bed and covered his face with his hands as the monitor next to him started beeping faster.

 

"I'll leave you alone for a moment," the medic murmured before dashing off the room.

 

"How long was I out?" Karel asked.

 

"Two weeks," General Fisto replied.

 

Karel breathed a sigh of frustration. If it took him two weeks with the help of Jedi healers to wake up with a missing foot then he was certain that all the others had perished.

 

"Did anyone else make it?"

 

"Kai and two pilots are dead," Hamar replied. "But five men survived because of you. Some of the boys from Fang Company are waiting outside if you want to see them."

 

Karel nodded stiffly and pulled himself up the bed. General Fisto moved to stand next to the door and punched the control. The door hissed open and the Nautolan Jedi Master laughed wholeheartedly at the sight of 5 clone commandos in full Katarn-class armor falling on top of each other in a heap of duraplast. Karel couldn't help but laugh as well, forgetting for a moment about his new cybernetic limb as he identified each commando by the color and design of their armor markings. Two of the surviving members of Viper Squad, Andur and Hoc, had light blue and bright red markings respectively and were at the bottom of the pile. On top of them were Ter, Miles and Shade, with orange, grey and dark purple markings respectively.

 

Cale appeared out of the corner of the door and shook his head. He turned to General Fisto and nodded politely as he called him by his rank. The Nautolan gave him a wide smile and nodded back.

 

"I wish I could stay gentlemen, but I'm afraid I have matters to attend to at the Jedi Temple," General Fisto said out loud, before turning to look at Karel. "Master Chief, what you did back there must be the greatest display of valour I have ever seen from anyone, Jedi or not. I look forward to working with you again in the future."

 

"As do I, General," Karel replied, sincerely.

 

General Fisto walked out of the room as the commandos started getting up the floor and stood behind Cale, still with his helmet on.

 

"How was your nap?" he asked jokingly. He took off his helmet and tucked it under his left arm. Much like Karel's foot, Cale's left eye had been replaced by a cybernetic.

 

Karel smirked and replied, "It's good to know that your sense of humor is still in one piece."

 

"You're one to talk. Mind if I do it, sarge?" he asked Hamar, using the informal form of his former rank as a sign of affection.

 

"Be my guest," Hamar replied.

 

Cale took Karel's helmet in his hands and turned it to face its owner. Karel was met with the rare sight of the jaig eyes, a Mandalorian sigil awarded by clan leaders for particular acts of bravery to only the very best of their warriors, painted on the forehead of his helmet in the same white color as the fangs. The monitor started beeping even faster as Karel took the helmet from Cale, who stepped back in formation with the rest of the men.

 

"The sarge painted them himself, wouldn't let anyone else do it," said Cale, as Karel slowly grazed the sigil with his fingers.

 

Cale called the men to attention, and Karel looked up to see the commandos in front of him saluting at him. And as he admired the sigil on his helmet, Karel suddenly felt as if he was being watched by thousands of people. Tears started to form in his eyes, and he was overwhelmed by an odd feeling of comfort and joy. For a moment he felt as if a ghostly, heavy hand had been placed on his shoulder, as if his grandfather and all his ancestors were simultaneously trying to convey the pride they felt for him from beyond the grave.

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Retribution

One month after the Battle of Geonosis, Fang Company Barracks, Zero Eight Commando HQ, Coruscant, 0230 hours

 

Although Karel was coming to terms with his new condition, he still felt uneasy about his new prosthetic. It had been custom-made by his father using a special beskar-titanium alloy similar to the one used in the Gray Hawk, giving it the best properties of both materials. It retained the titanium's lightness and corrosion resistance without compromising the lightsaber-resistant properties of the beskar and the extreme durability and strength of both metals. All this meant that not only could it perform even better than its organic counterpart, but it was also fit for practically any combat situation Karel might find himself in. His problem with his prosthetic wasn't how he got it or the fact that it had earned him the jaig eyes, since he was proud of having saved his friends. General Fisto had even recommended him for the Star of Coruscant, the Republic's highest award for valor, although Karel knew it was almost impossible for him to be awarded such a medal. If the galaxy found out that the GAR was employing mercenaries from neutral worlds that could compromise the neutrality of said worlds and convince them to join the Confederacy, so Republic High Command quickly dismissed the request, preventing a diplomatic nightmare in the process.

 

As a Mandalorian, Karel didn't care much for awards. From his point of view he just did what he was trained to do. He still preferred not to talk about the events of Akiva, which the men understood, but this was complicated by the fact that every time a new trooper saw the jaig eyes they were curious as to how he earnt them. Most of them stopped asking when he said it was classified, but there was always the curious trooper that wouldn't give up, particularly those not familiar with the secretive nature of the operations of the Special Operations Brigade.

 

He chuckled in amusement, then walked past the two troopers that were standing guard at the entrance to the briefing room in the barracks belonging to Fang Company, which also served as the headquarters for Zero Eight Commando. His father was already there with two cups of caf, one in his hand and the other on the table. His helmet was on the holotable facing forward.

 

"Why did you call me here so early?" Karel asked as he stifled a yawn. He took off his helmet and left it on the table next to his father's, then took the cup of caf that was next to it.

 

"Republic Intelligence said they had a mission for us," Hamar replied, taking a swig of his own cup.

 

Karel wasn't surprised that Republic Intelligence had called them, since they worked with them in the past acquiring high-value information and other delicate operations best suited for non-clone operatives. Seeing how involved they were in this mission, however, Karel assumed they would be doing the Republic's dirty work once more.

 

A woman walked in not long after. She was somewhat tall, a couple of inches shorter than the clones and the same height as Karel, and had dark skin and green eyes. Her dark hair was held in a bun and she wore the standard Republic olive-drab uniform with a commander rank insignia plaque.

 

"Good morning, gentlemen. I am Commander Tamm, Republic Intelligence. I will be briefing you on your next mission." The commander pressed a few buttons on the holotable and the hologram of a planet shimmered to life. It was a relatively normal planet, with icy poles and equatorial jungles, as well as other climates. "This is the planet Mikkia, in the Expansion Region. At the outbreak of the war the Separatists invaded and took control of the planet. However, they have been having a hard time keeping the population under control, and resistance groups loyal to the Republic have emerged. We have established contact with some of these groups and agreed to supply them with weapons and training to fight against the Separatist occupation. Your mission will be to go there, rendezvous with the rebels and provide them with said training. Any questions?"

 

"Why do the Separatists want this planet so much?" Karel asked.

 

The commander pressed a few buttons on the holotable and the hologram changed to a map of the entire galaxy. She focused on a specific sector of the galaxy, then she pointed to a planet highlighted in red.

 

"Mikkia is located here, at grid coordinates M-7 in the Hiydian Way. Its position makes it of vital importance to both sides. If the Republic holds control of the planet we'll have a way to quickly deploy our forces into the Mid and Outer Rim. But if the Separatist take it then-"

 

"Then they'll have a perfect staging area to attack the Core Worlds," said Hamar before lifting his gaze from the holomap to look at Commander Tamm. "Mikkia never defected to the Separatists. Why aren't we sending troops there instead?"

 

"Unfortunately, our last available reserves have just been sent to reinforce other vulnerable systems. It will take a while until we are able to send any significant amount of troops to the planet. However, if the population fights back against the Separatists then they will weaken the enemy's hold on Mikkia enough so we can expect minimal casualties when we retake the planet."

 

"So you want us to buy you time, then? Make your job easier for you?"

 

"From a certain point of view, yes. Usually this type of missions would be given to our own operatives, but they too are stretched too thin across the Outer Rim. I am aware that you both have experience training the clones, which will be essential for this mission. Your shuttle is waiting for you at Hangar 04, you will depart at 0500 hours. Any questions?"

 

"No," they replied as they put on their helmets.

 

"Very well. You are dismissed."

 

Hamar and Karel nodded to the commander, then left the room to prepare for the mission. The door hissed close behind them as they walked together towards their quarters.

 

"I'll go get our gear ready. Find out everything you can about Mikkia and its natives," Hamar ordered. "We have to know what we are dealing with."

 

**********

 

5 standard hours later, Mikkia system

 

A Nu-class transport dropped out of hyperspace just outside Mikkia's orbit. Unlike most ships of its class, this shuttle was equipped with a myriad of upgrades installed by Republic Intelligence to allow it to act as an improvised stealth ship and operate behind enemy lines. The baffled engines, energy dampeners and static jammers were only some of the modifications this particular shuttle possessed. It was also coated in reflec, giving the shuttle a black finish and making it harder to detect by sensor arrays. The shuttle activated its stealth systems as it entered Mikkia's atmosphere. The night had just fallen on the planet and the clouds blocked the stars so very little light was reaching the surface of the planet. The shuttle carefully started flying nap-of-the-earth over the dense jungles as it approached the designated drop zone.

 

"What did you find about this planet?" Hamar asked his son as he sat opposite of him in the shuttle's passenger bay.

 

"Not much, Mikkians are a secretive species, but judging by what I did manage to find I think it's safe to say that they'll either love us or hate us."

 

"And why is that?" Hamar asked, intrigued.

 

"Their culture is quite similar to ours. Kinship and integrity are of the utmost importance to them, and their honesty may sometimes seem blunt and even rude. However, they have a strong sense of honor and discipline, which they value more than victory or physical strength," Karel explained.

 

"Sounds familiar," Hamar remarked. "If the Separatists want to keep these people under their control they won't have it easy, but I don't think they'll like us telling them what to do either. We have to be careful."

 

"This is Archer 1415, we're coming up on the drop zone," their pilot announced over the comms, interrupting them.

 

The two Mandalorians stood from their seats as Archer 1415 made a sudden turn in the air and halted, hovering just a couple of meters over the canopy. Its boarding hatch opened and they jumped from the shuttle to the jungles down below.

 

"This is Phoenix One, we're in," said Hamar.

 

"Copy that, sir. Good luck."

 

The shuttle pulled out quickly to avoid being detected. Karel and Hamar watched as it rose through the skies and disappeared behind the clouds.

 

"Let's go. Rendezvous point is this way."

 

The night was calm as they moved silently through the jungles for a few kilometers. A howling was heard in the distance, while the insects and other creatures on the ground and on the trees chirped to communicate with each other.

 

"Do you see anything?" Karel asked. Even with his night vision activated he could barely make out the figure of his father and the terrain right in front of them.

 

"No, but keep your eyes open. They must be here somewhere."

 

Hamar stopped suddenly as they heard a twig snap, alerting them to a nearby presence. The bushes to their right started rustling and they quickly gave chase. Using the night vision setting on their helmets they spotted a humanoid thermal signature running away.

 

"Flank them by the left. I'll follow them," Hamar ordered.

 

Karel obeyed and they split, with Hamar trailing the humanoid from behind. Whoever it was, they were in peak physical condition, and Hamar was already getting tired from chasing the mysterious being through the dense jungles for just a few minutes. The humanoid started getting away, but just as Hamar thought he was about to lose them, Karel pounced on their target and tackled them to the ground. What he did not anticipate was the ravine below them, and they rolled down as they struggled against each other, coming to a halt next to a creek.

 

The mysterious being rolled them over so they stood over Karel, then threw a trio of punches to his face that he blocked. He kicked the being on the chest with his left foot, throwing them off of him, and quickly got up and into a proper fighting stance. The skies had cleared and Mikkia's moon now illuminated the night, giving Karel his first good look at his target. She was a young Mikkian female with blue eyes and pink skin that shaded to blue at the tip of her head-tendrils. She was wearing a dark brown jacket over a green shirt, with brown pants and black boots to blend with the jungle.

 

"What are you doing here?" she asked as her head-tendrils waved slowly in the air and she held her arms in front of her, ready for a fight.

 

"I was just passing through here," Karel replied, shrugging off her hostility. "Like rain on the mountain."

 

Surprised, the Mikkian lowered her arms as she heard the Mandalorian in front of her say the designated codephrase.

 

"Like a wind in the meadow," she whispered in response.

 

"Karel Jansek," he said, introducing himself.

 

He cautiously held out his hand to the Mikkian, who hesitated for a moment before clasping it hand to elbow in a similar fashion to how Mandalorians usually greet each other.

 

"Veria," she replied. "Where is your friend?"

 

"We found this one looking for a way down the hill. He says he has been sent by the Republic," a voice bellowed from the distance.

 

Two rebels mounted on tee-musses appeared behind Veria. Walking in front of them with his hands in the air was Hamar, who had let himself be captured.

 

"Right there," Karel stated, plainly.

 

"This man is telling the truth. Let him go," Veria instructed.

 

Hamar lowered his hands and shook Veria's hand. After they introduced each other, Veria looked at the two Mandalorians and said, "We spotted movement in the area and we thought you were a droid patrol. Come with us, we'll take you to our camp."

 

They walked back into the jungle, heading north. Veria led the way with Karel and Hamar behind her, followed by the other two rebels. Veria seemed tense, upset even, and constantly glanced behind at the Mandalorians, particularly at Karel to her left. He noticed she hadn't said a single word in the entire trek. But before he could think more of it, they reached the camp. It was a relatively sophisticated and large camp, comprised of about a dozen tents of various sizes and raised in the ruins of some sort of ancient structure. To their left sat three Mikkian rebels who looked at Karel and Hamar with contempt as they passed through the main gate of the camp.

 

"They're not exactly excited to meet us," said Karel through their private comms. He kept walking, not turning his gaze from the rebels until they looked away first.

 

"They are a bit rough around the edges, but I think we can work with them."

 

"I'm not sure I agree with you on that."

 

At the center of the camp were the ruins of some sort of temple, built of stone and covered in vines, which now served as the rebels' command post. Veria led them inside while the two other rebels waited at the entrance with their mounts. They arrived at a room at the center of the ruins with high ceilings and a stone table in the middle. A Mikkian, which Karel assumed to be the leader of the rebels, was standing in front of the table with his back facing the entrance as he studied a holographic representation of the planet.

 

"<The agents from the Republic are here,>" Veria announced in her native language as she stepped to the side. To Karel it sounded like a melodic song, with her voice providing a somewhat soothing effect.

 

The man in front of them turned to see their guests, and Karel was met with a sight that would be intimidating to most. He had crimson-colored skin and piercing red eyes, as well as a bulky and muscular body and many long and thick head-tendrils.

 

"I was expecting Jedi," he said in a deep voice, unimpressed by the Mandalorians.

 

"I told you they were blunt," Karel remarked, glancing at his father.

 

"Jedi aren't the best option for situations like this one, but we are," said Hamar, ignoring his son's remark. He took a step forward towards the man and took off his helmet. The two of them were about the same height, somewhere between that of Karel and that of the clones. Hamar held out his hand in greeting, which the Mikkian promptly accepted. He smirked as his features relaxed, his head-tendrils moving more calmly than before.

 

"Lieutenant Colonel Hamar Jansek, at your service. This is Master Chief Karel Jansek," Hamar said, nodding at Karel as he also removed his helmet.

 

"Call me Arathor," the Mikkian said as he shook Karel's hand.

 

"Fancies himself as our leader, though no one elected him," Veria murmured as she leaned against a wall and picked her nails.

 

"You'll have to excuse my niece," Arathor said, smirking.

 

"Well for now we're in charge, and there is much to do here," Hamar replied.

 

"So be it. Veria, take them to their tents, please."

 

Veria nodded and led the Mandalorians back outside, then towards two small tents that were some of the closest to the temple and were reserved for the leaders of the group, while most of the rebels slept in communal tents in groups of eight to twelve.

 

"We begin training at dawn. Tell the others," Hamar instructed Veria. She nodded and left to relay the orders through the camp. Hamar looked to the sky, where the moon had already reached past its highest point, then turned to Karel. "The sun will be up in a few hours. Get some rest, we have a long day ahead of us."

 

Karel nodded and headed inside the tent on the right, while his father took the one on the left. Inside there was just a small camp bed and a table for him to place his belongings. They were on the field, so he slept wearing his armor. He placed his helmet and his blasters on the table when he heard the flap of his tent open. In a flash he picked up one of his blasters and turned. Standing in front of him was Veria, her hands calmly in the air in mock surrender.

 

"Quick reflexes," she noted as she lowered her arms. "Relax, I'm not here to fight."

 

Karel exhaled slowly as he lowered his blaster. He turned back to face the table and set his blaster down. Veria sat on the bed as Karel inspected his equipment.

 

"What do you want?" he asked, bluntly.

 

"I'm just curious about you, Mandalorians aren't exactly a common sight here," she responded, crossing her arms. "My uncle really wanted us to meet a Jedi."

 

"Sorry to disappoint," he muttered.

 

Karel turned to face Veria as she stood up from the bed and approached him, coming to stand in front of him. He noticed she was somewhat tall, about 1.7 meters. She moved closer to him, never breaking eye contact as she came to stand in his personal space. He bumped against the table with his back and put his hands on the table. He wasn't scared by her actions, as he knew he could probably overpower her with some ease, so he did not try to attack. Instead he was confused, and his mind went blank as she put her hands on the table behind him next to his own hands. She leaned even closer to him, her face now just a few inches away from his. Her head-tendrils waved calmly in the air, and he swallowed harshly as her sapphire eyes pierced through his soul. She was looking for something in him, deep inside of him.

 

She smirked in satisfaction, then turned and left without saying anything else. Karel looked dumbfounded at the flap of his tent as she walked away. All he could think of was her, and how easily she seemed to have played with him for no apparent reason. He wondered what exactly she was looking for in him and if she had even found it, but quickly shook those thoughts away as he laid down on the bed and went to sleep.

 

---

 

The following morning

 

Rising at dawn, the Mandalorians went straight to work training the rebels. Most of them were farmers and nerf herders from the plains north of the jungles, and were accustomed to demanding physical labor. That, and the fact that their society placed great importance on matters related to warfare, made Karel cautiously optimistic about their mission.

 

After much hesitation by the rebels, and with some persuading by Hamar, they managed to convince them to modify their tactics. Instead of fighting the droids in a full-scale war, they would have to switch to guerrilla tactics. Small groups of rebels on foot would ambush the droid patrols that ventured too deep into the jungles, and would perform acts of sabotage on crucial targets such as convoys and poorly defended outposts.

 

Karel scanned the crowd of Mikkians as they gathered in front of him and his father for their first lesson of the day. To his right stood Arathor and Veria, both with their arms crossed but the latter with thinly-veiled boredom as Hamar introduced himself to the rebels. His voice was as commanding as it was captivating, and he stood at ease with his hands behind his back.

 

"I am Lieutenant Colonel Jansek, 8^th Commando Battalion, Special Operations Brigade. This," he pointed at Karel to his right, who moved to stand next to his father, "is Master Chief Jansek, Fang Company, 8^th Commando Battalion. Our mission is to train and equip you to fight against the Separatist forces that currently occupy this world and, if possible, liberate it. To be clear we are not here to fight this battle for you, but to show you the best way to fight it." He turned at Karel and said, "Master Chief, why don't you give our recruits a demonstration of some of the equipment they will be using?"

 

Karel rolled his eyes behind his helmet at his father's use of his rank, but said nothing of it as he walked up to a table with Republic weapons on the right and Separatist weapons on the left. He took a blaster, then held it up in front of himself.

 

"This is the DC-15A blaster carbine, also known as the DC-15S. It is capable of generating up to 500 shots using a single tibanna gas cartridge and each power pack lasts 50 shots. It's small, reliable, and has a high rate of fire; perfect for use in ambushes and guerrilla warfare. The shots of this weapon are hyper-ionized and will fry any electronics they hit, making it ideal against droids. But that doesn't mean it won't kill organics. As a matter of fact, one shot from this blaster is more than enough to put a hole through your chest and end you right then and there."

 

He turned to his left and adopted a kneeling position, taking aim at a small rock about 30 meters away. Removing the safety and holding his breath, Karel fired three shots in quick succession and they all found their target. He put the safety back on and stood up, going back to the table. He removed the power pack from the side of the blaster and inspected the weapon to make sure it wouldn't fire accidentally. He knew he had unloaded it correctly, but he was well aware that one should never get complacent when dealing with anything capable of killing another being, so he cleaned all of his weapons regularly, keeping them as pristine as if they just came out of the factory were it not for the countless modifications he had done to them, and throughout the day he constantly checked they had the safety on, both things that his father took great effort in teaching him early during his training. He left the blaster carbine on the table, then picked up an E-5 blaster rifle.

 

"Now, you won't always be able to choose your armament, and sometimes you'll have to make use with the equipment the enemy leaves behind. The E-5 is the standard-issue blaster for the droids. With that in mind, this weapon will heat up faster than most, so watch out for overheating or you'll be out of the fight before you know it."

 

His demonstration finished, Karel left the other blaster on the table as well. Hamar stepped forward and yelled, "Form up! We'll begin with target practice."

 

**********

 

As the first day of training came to an end and the sun started setting on Mikkia, Karel and Hamar evaluated the fighting capabilities of the rebels to decide how to proceed. Before that, however, the rebels still had to learn several important aspects of warfare and military science, and had to be properly organized into an actual fighting force capable of defeating the Separatist war machine.

 

"Battle droids have strength in numbers, and you can't match them on that. Taking down one clanker doesn't seem so hard, but taking down a hundred is an entirely different story. But numbers aren't everything, and there are other ways to turn the fight in your favor," Karel explained to the rebels in front of him as he stood between them and an assortment of captured battle droids.

 

To his right were two B1 battle droids and to his left a DSD1 spider droid, and Karel could barely stop himself from turning them into scrap metal as he has been trained to do. He breathed quietly to calm himself and tapped a few buttons on his left gauntlet. An Imagecaster at his feet activated and he continued with his speech.

 

Hamar watched from the sidelines as Karel explained some of the factors the Mikkians could use as force multipliers in their fight against the Separatists. He smiled proudly under his helmet, and didn't notice Arathor walking up to him and standing at his right.

 

"He's a good soldier," said Arathor.

 

Hamar immediately straigtened himself after being caught off guard, but quickly composed himself and replied, "He is."

 

"So what's your story, Mandalorian, of both of you?"

 

"It's classified," Hamar replied instantly. He took a moment to consider what he would say, then asked. "What's yours?"

 

"Pretty boring I guess." Arathor crossed his arms and shrugged. "But let's just say I'm a man trying to protect his home. And I have a feeling that you were the same thing at one point."

 

A mischievous glint in Arathor's crimson eyes is all Hamar needed to know he had to pick his next words carefully.

 

"What makes you say that?" he asked as calmly as he could.

 

A call came from one of the tents, the kitchen tent, and everyone dropped what they were doing to rush for dinner.

 

Arathor laughed to himself, then flashed Hamar a smile and replied, "Saved by the bell. Come on, I for one I'm starving." He turned to head in the direction of the kitchen tent, but stopped and turned at Hamar. "Are you coming?"

 

Hamar looked back at Karel, who was focused on analyzing the droids' tactics shown on the hologram after everyone else has left, and for a moment Hamar felt like he was looking at his younger self. When the Great Clan Wars began he was just a couple years older than Karel now was, and there were times he felt his son was more of a warrior than he was. He dared not say this to anyone, not even to Karel, but at times he felt like a failure; a lesser son of greater fathers. He was supposed to protect his family, protect Karel, not throw him into danger. He had seen so many horrors in his short life, had already lost part of himself that he'll never get back.

 

And yet he still followed him everywhere they went, always by his side, never blaming him for anything that had happened to him. From before he could walk to now that he was almost as tall as himself, Karel always stayed true to his teachings, yet he was his own person. He was strong, smart and brave, all qualities of a great leader.

 

And with that knowledge, Hamar managed to put his worries to rest and followed the Mikkian.

 

**********

 

Having been served his portion of nerf stew, Karel looked for a place to eat in peace. Most of the rebels had returned to their tents to eat with their friends, while Hamar had gone with Arathor. Karel considered joining them for a moment, but ultimately decided against it. As he walked to his tent he spotted Veria sitting on a log near the shooting range while gazing at the stars. Karel approached her cautiously from behind, trying to get as close as possible to her without her noticing him.

 

"I guess stealth is not your area of expertise," she said out loud without turning.

 

"Yeah, I guess not," Karel replied with a smirk.

 

Veria scooted over so Karel could sit next to her. He walked up to her and sat on her right, but still keeping some distance between them so as not to make her uncomfortable.

 

"Then what is?" she asked, still not looking directly at him.

 

"What is what?" he asked back incredulously as he removed his helmet, leaving it next to him on his right and sipping from his bowl of stew.

 

She rolled her eyes and huffed, then said, "Your field, what is it?"

 

He thought for a moment and wasn't sure he had the answer she wanted. He had been trained in practically every aspect of warfare there was, and of course there were some areas which he preferred over others, but the idea of defining himself by one singular skill set never sat right with him. For him it was best to be prepared for whatever situation you might find yourself into, instead of being prepared for only one specific situation.

 

"Special operations," he half-guessed after a moment, which was technically true, from a certain point of view. "And yours? You didn't seem very excited about training today."

 

"I don't need to train, I'm the best scout in this entire camp," she replied confidently, and would have crossed her arms had it not been for the bowl of nerf stew on her hands.

 

"Good scouts don't get caught," Karel muttered as he was about to sip his nerf stew again. He didn't understand how he was speaking to her so effortlessly, almost as if they had known each other for a long time when in reality it had been less than a day since that chase across the jungle.

 

She huffed and bumped her shoulder against his and he bumped hers, after which they both laughed for a moment before a comfortable silence fell between them.

 

"What is it like out there?" Veria asked while her gaze was focused on the stars.

 

"Out there?" he echoed.

 

"In the galaxy. I've lived on this planet my whole life, I guess you must have seen some exciting things out there."

 

He remained quiet, reflecting on all the death and destruction he had seen already. The memories he had kept to himself threatened to break free like a creature of darkness that had been locked away years ago.

"A few things," he replied bitterly after a moment.

 

He picked up his helmet and put it on in an instant, not caring how terrible of a job he was doing at pretending to be fine. Veria scowled at his behavior, the blue tips of her head-tendrils now appearing like a halo around her head as she leaned closer towards him.

 

His left gauntlet chimed off, interrupting them, and the control panel read of an incoming transmission from his father. Karel stood up and turned away from Veria, activating his helmet's comlink via his HUD using his gaze.

 

"What is it?" he asked as soon as the call started.

 

"Come to command post immediately, we have to talk about something," Hamar ordered, leaving no room for negotiations.

 

Karel had no time to ask what was the problem before the transmission ended. He glanced at Veria and said, "Sorry, I have to go."

 

"I'm coming with you," she stated as she stood up and followed him as he headed for the command post.

 

He halted in his tracks and turned at her. His helmeted head looked down as his visor met her eyes.

 

"I didn't say you could come with me," he said harshly.

 

"And I don't care about that," she replied with a smug grin, then simply walked past him.

 

He turned back to the command post and, smirking under his helmet at how amusing and frustrating her reply was, walked up past her. He entered the command post first just in case with his right hand on his blaster ready to draw at a moment's notice. He dropped his hand to the side, however, as Arathor and Hamar turned to meet them, as did a holographic projection of Commander Tamm, all three surrounding the holotable.

 

"I couldn't shake her off," said Karel, noticing the looks he was getting as Veria moved to stand next to Arathor.

 

"Get used to it," Arathor remarked with a smirk.

 

Karel moved to stand next to his father opposite of Veria, who rolled her eyes in response to her uncle's comment, but Karel noticed how her head-tendrils waved more calmly than before and her cheeks had flushed, though he dismissed the latter as an effect of the humidity of the air in the jungles.

 

"Can we start now?" asked Commander Tamm, her exasperation evident by the way she squared her shoulders and straightened herself to her full height.

 

"Of course," Arathor replied apologetically, then pressed some buttons on the controls of the holotable.

 

"One of our spies in the capital just sent us this recording," said the commander.

 

A hologram appeared depicting a tall, slim, green-skinned and green-eyed Koorivar male standing in front of a mansion while dressed in ornate orange robes, as well as a large spiraling horn that protruded from the top of his head, and close behind and to his left stood a TC-series protocol droid with gold-colored plating. Further behind them stood another dozen Koorivar, all clad in red armor and black combat boots and equipped with some model of blaster rifle. In front of all the Koorivar were a set of stairs, at the base of which stood a large crowd of Mikkians of various ages and skin colors. The orange-robed Koorivar began speaking to the crowd at his feet, while columns of B1 and B2 battle droids and snail tanks appeared from both sides of the mansion and stopped behind the Koorivar as he enthusiastically spoke to the crowd.

 

"People of Mikkia. I am Urodan Quontera, and I stand before you with news that the corrupt Republic that once occupied this planet has fled, crushed by the might of our droid armies! Now, Mikkia shall not fear the tyranny of the Republic anymore, for this planet has been liberated, and is now under the protection of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Until this war comes to an end I will serve as your Governor, and ensure that the interests of the people of this planet are met as part of the Confederacy. Count Dooku will guide us to a better future under the banner of the Confederacy! The Jedi, supposed defenders of the peace, have now shown their true colors by declaring war on those who refused to serve them, but no more shall we fear them! Even though the Republic has abandoned this planet, traitors remain among us, and they must be brought to justice for the crimes they have committed. If you are aware of any suspicious activity do not doubt in reporting it, as these terrorists have shown their willingness to take the lives of civilians and will no doubt strike again like the cowards they are."

 

Throughout the transmission both Arathor and Veria's expressions went from shock to outright rage, and as the Koorivar finished speaking Arathor seemed about ready to crush the holotable with his bare hands. He fixed his gaze on Commander Tamm's hologram, his crimson eyes and head-tendrils making him resemble what in some cultures would be considered a demon.

 

"Separatist scum, we do not attack civilians!" he exclaimed indignated. "Who is this coward that speaks lies of my people?!"

 

The hologram paused, zooming on Qountera's holographic figure as his file appeared next to him.

 

"Urodan Quontera, he has an extensive record in service to the Corporate Alliance," said Commander Tamm in an even voice, hoping to placate the Mikkian. "He has spent the better part of the last twenty years in various administrative positions within the Corporate Alliance until he reached the position of Special Markets Director."

 

"How did he go from administrator to Governor?" Karel asked, unfamiliar with the inner workings of corporations and the world of politics.

 

"The Quontera family owns and operates Quontera Shipping, the second largest company within the Corporate Alliance, and holds several high-ranking positions within it including a seat in its executive board. It is most likely that they were able to use their influences to obtain this position for one of their own. The Koorivar are known as a shrewd species that is focused solely on business and the accumulation and display of wealth."

 

"Whoever his family is they're not taking any chances, the hut'uun has a squad of Koorivar Fusiliers guarding him," Hamar noted, referring to the red-armored warriors.

 

"Who?" Arathor and Veria asked at the same time.

 

"Koorivar soldiers in service to the Corporate Alliance, they are often seen guarding Alliance assets and escorting officers. They are said to be the best organic soldiers in service to the Corporate Alliance."

 

"That's not saying much," Karel mumbled.

 

Commander Tamm turned to face both Mandalorians and asked, "Colonel, Master Chief, what is your assessment of the situation?"

 

"The rebels are well-organized and have agreed to cooperate and modify their tactics as needed, but they still lack the support of the civilian population. The people are scared. Without their support this battle is unlikely to end in favor of the Republic," Hamar replied.

 

"And what would they have to be afraid of? The droids? Us?" Arathor asked in disbelief. He simply couldn't understand why his people were not fighting back.

 

"They're afraid you're not strong enough to win," Karel stated bluntly. "You have to strike decisively at the enemy somewhere they don't expect it and that they won't be able to recover from. That will send a message to your people and show them what you're fighting for."

 

"Precisely. Disrupting the enemy's supply lines and logistics will remain our priority, but we have to think of other targets we can attack that will boost morale and support for your cause if destroyed," Hamar added.

 

The two Mikkians stayed quiet as they tried to come up with a suitable target, but they couldn't think of anything of the sort. Most settlements on Mikkia were villages and towns with no more than a few thousand people. The largest spaceport on the planet was located in the capital of Sodra on the southern hemishpere, a city with less than a quarter of a million inhabitants, small even by Outer Rim standards.

 

"I may have the target you are looking for," Commander Tamm said, and the others in the room turned to hear what she had to say. "We've intercepted Separatist transmissions regarding large military convoys transporting prisoners and supplies to the capital within the following weeks. If you can intercept some of these transports, the local populace may start supporting you."

 

"They'll want to get to the capital as fast as possible to minimize the risk. What route would they have to take?" Hamar asked the Mikkians in front of him.

 

"The only road that goes through the jungle is the Hertalian Road. They'll be sittings ducks there," Arathor replied with a smirk.

 

"This is clearly a trap," Karel noted.

 

"I'd be surprised if it weren't, but right now it's our only choice," Hamar replied. He and Karel looked at Arathor and Veria, who nodded their agreement with him.

 

"Very well," the commander said, pleased with the decision. "I will focus our assets on acquiring the details of the next transport. I will contact you as soon as I have more information of your interest. Good luck."

 

Her presence no longer needed, Commander Tamm left the holo-meeting.

 

Hamar looked at the Mikkians again and said, "I want scouting parties to identify the best sites for an ambush. We must use the terrain to our advantage, so look for places where we can get control of the high ground and trap the enemy."

 

"We should have that finished by sunset tomorrow," was Arathor's reply.

 

Arathor and Veria left as well, the former to inform his people of their next course of action and the latter to depart on another scouting mission. As Hamar looked down he reactivated the holotable and maps appeared showing the local topography when Karel spoke up.

 

"You do know this is a trap?" he asked, flatly.

 

Hamar replied with another question for him, "Do you have a better idea?"

 

"For starters don't walk into a trap," Karel replied sarcastically.

 

"These people don't have the luxury of time, Karel," Hamar shot back, turning to his son and meeting his visor with his own.

 

The two Mandalorians stood almost at the same height, with Hamar being taller by no more than an inch. Their armors were very similar as well, both grey and green with slightly lighter grey flight suits and brown leather belts. Both wielded two WESTAR-35 blasters each but Hamar also had a one-handed axe that he kept sheathed slightly below and in front of his right blaster and Karel had a knife of some sort sheathed horizontally on the back of his belt with the grip to the left. Their helmets were almost identical too, save for Karel's being decorated with the jaig eyes and the fangs on the forehead and cheeks respectively.

 

"And what if they fail?"

 

"They won't, and you'll make sure of that. I want you to plan and lead this mission."

 

"Me?" Karel asked in astonishment, thinking his helmet's sound amplification systems were acting up.

 

"Yes. I suggest you get to work."

 

Hamar turned and left as well, and Karel could practically feel how much he was trying to keep a straight face even if he was wearing his helmet. Once Karel was left alone he leaned against the holotable, then breathed a sigh of exhaustion as he brought a hand to his helmet's forehead.

 

"I have a bad feeling about this."

 

---

 

A few weeks later

 

The Hertalian Road was the perfect place for an ambush. The densely packed jungles and narrow roads made it difficult for large vehicles to maneuver and large groups of droids had to travel by foot in long columns on the flanks of their transports to protect them from any attackers. Thus, the Separatists were unable to field their two greatest advantages in warfare: overwhelming firepower and numerical superiority.

 

Once Commander Tamm had acquired the strength and route of the next convoy, Karel decided the ambush would be carried out in a canyon known in the Mikkian language as Izevarinue. The canyon was deep and wide at the top but became narrower at the bottom where a river ran from west to east perpendicular to the kilometer-long bridge that connected the two sides of the canyon. The bridge was narrow too, barely wide enough for transports to cross. On each end of the bridge the road was flanked by thick brush and just after the south end was a sharp turn to the right, which meant that any approaching vehicles would have to reduce their speed drastically.

 

As the sun reached its zenith over the jungles of Mikkia, Karel waited patiently from his position overlooking the bridge. He and his father set up their position on a high rock in front of the bridge's south end next to the turn in the road, giving them a clear line of sight of the choke point where the ambush would take place. Because they had strict orders not to engage the enemy themselves they were there only as observers and to coordinate the rebels in their attacks. The two were laying prone as they waited in silence for their enemy to walk right into their trap. To avoid detection they had covered themselves in large nets covered with branches and leaves, making them all but invisible to the untrained eye. Karel had found out the hard way that the jungles were one of the environments he liked the least. The humidity in the air was asphyxiating even with his armor's environmental control systems running at full power, making the hours feel like days with no way to pass the time.

 

"And here I thought Kashyyyk was bad," he thought to himself.

 

Sensors placed on the north end of the bridge picked up the sounds of engines and marching feet, alerting them to the arrival of the enemy. Karel and his father looked at each other for a moment, then nodded as they both knew what was soon to come. Karel pulled his rangefinder over his visor and looked towards the north end of the bridge, where a large mass had appeared.

 

In the distance a column of eight Separatist vehicles heading south filled his view. Two NR-N99 snail tanks led the way, followed by an AAT and two MTTs. Behind them was another AAT, and at the rear of the column were another two snail tanks. As Karel had predicted, a group of twenty super battle droids traveled in single file on each flank of the column.

 

"That's not good," he whispered in shock. This was only his second mission since Akiva and the first time since then that he had faced a B2, and his mind went to dark places as the sounds of that battle started haunting him once more.

 

Noticing his son's unusual distraught, Hamar lowered his rangefinder too as the mass in the distance grew bigger. His blood ran cold as he caught sight of the enemy tanks and battle droids approaching them.

 

"What is it? Are they here?" Arathor asked through the comms.

 

"They're here," Hamar replied solemnly. "Three tanks at the front, two transports in the middle of the column and three more tanks at the rear. Twenty B2s on each flank."

 

The gravity of the situation dawned on everyone as the convoy reached the middle point of the bridge. Hamar looked again at the enemy column through his rangefinder, then turned to Karel and placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his trance with a jolt.

 

"Karel, what do you want to do now?" he asked.

 

Karel stayed quiet as he considered the options. At first glance it seemed the droids had the advantage. The strength of the enemy convoy was considerably higher than their intel suggested and the B2s were much tougher opponents than the B1s. Not only that, but the enemy also had a clear advantage in terms of firepower and armour. However, the rebels had the element of surprise, and for once the enemy's advantage in numbers was much smaller than usual with their droid infantry outnumbering the rebels only by about 10 droids. Furthermore, the enemy's formation and the small space limited the firepower they could bring to bear.

 

"Wait for my signal, we'll stick to the plan," was the younger Mandalorian's response.

 

The jungle fell silent save for the sounds of marching droids and their vehicles. In the brush the rebels held their breath and readied their weapons as the droids got closer and closer. Soon enough the first tank was clearing the bridge and began turning to the right. To avoid a crossfire, Arathor and half of the rebels would attack the droids at the front, while Veria's group took care of the ones at the rear.

 

Once they were close enough Karel scanned the two transports using his helmet's thermal vision. Inside the first transport he found no heat signatures other than those of the machinery and the droids inside, but the second transport had a lone organic passenger sitting in its hollowed out cargo bay. They were most likely a high-value prisoner, and that was more than enough reason to retrieve them by any means necessary.

 

"Keep the second transport intact. Destroy everything else," Karel ordered.

 

Suddenly the lead tank was sent flying meters high into the air by the explosives buried in the road. Its ammunition ignited, engulfing it in a ball of fire as it came crashing back to the ground. The fiery wreck now blocked the road for the other vehicles, which came to a halt as the earth shook violently. Explosions through the bridge sent it crumbling down to the bottom of the canyon, taking with it the last two snail tanks that hadn't cleared it yet, as well as the last 5 super battle droids from each flank.

 

The Mikkians came out of the jungle and all Kessel broke loose. They took care of the transports first, throwing EMP grenades that disabled their systems but left them undamaged. Veria aimed at the droid commander of the rear AAT with her blaster carbine and fired two shots that destroyed the droid before it could hide inside the tank and close the hatch.

 

The battle, however, quickly started to change in favour of the droids as they recovered from the initial shock of the ambush. At this point only 20 of the 30 rebels were left standing, while a similar number of super battle droids remained and were left scattered through the length of the convoy. Being programmed to fight until the end they started firing with both of their wrist blasters at the treeline. Karel watched helplessly as a yellow-skinned Mikkian was hit by two blaster shots on the chest and collapsed in front of one of the B2s, who riddled the Mikkian with blaster bolts in a merciless display of its killing capabilities. Slowly the strength of the attackers started wavering while the droids, though with limited tactical thinking, were smart enough to regroup and start forming a barrier around the second transport.

 

"We need help!" Veria shouted into her comlink, then accidentally dropped it as she rushed for cover.

 

Karel checked and saw her taking cover behind the rear AAT while the droids fired at her. To her right was a crippled B2 with its legs blown off and its armor casing ripped open on the right side of its torso, exposing the circuitry inside. Its photoreceptor flickered as it focused all its remaining power into turning towards her to get a good shot. Karel glanced at Arathor at the front of the column, who was also pinned down by enemy fire as he took cover behind the wreck of the lead snail tank.

 

It wasn't uncommon for Karel to act before thinking, and this was no exception. He stood up and revealed himself to the enemy droids below, while his father yelled at him to get down and hide. The JT-12 jetpack on his back ignited and he rose through the skies, leaving Hamar confused and annoyed, though not surprised.

 

The crippled B2 supported itself with its right arm as it aimed at Veria with its left wrist blaster. She glanced to her right and was caught offguard as the droid fired at her and she raised her arms in a reflex. At that moment Karel appeared, landing harshly in front of her and pinning her between himself and the tank using his arms.

 

"Hi there," he greeted nonchalantly as three blaster bolts hit his armor. The force of the shots hitting his backplate pushed him slightly forward towards Veria as she looked up and saw her reflection in his visor.

 

He drew his right blaster and turned towards the droid, firing three green bolts that destroyed it for good. His and his father's WESTAR-35 blaster pistols were unlike any other as they had integrated the circuit-frying tech of a pair of DC-17 pistols and adapted them to use the same power packs, while also keeping most of the technology and components found in most Mandalorian blasters that made them so reliable and deadly. The combination of these two technologies resulted in their blasters firing unique green bolts, with the added benefits that it made it easier for them to spot where their shots were hitting and adjust their aim properly and that it made logistics easier as they didn't have to get special power packs and just used the same as those of the rest of the army.

 

The droids protecting the transport started firing again and Karel quickly took cover with Veria behind the AAT. He drew his other blaster too and laughed briefly, then said, "I can't believe I was missing out on this."

 

Veria didn't respond instantly, still surprised by how he had protected her from a certain death. The blush on her cheeks didn't go unnoticed by Karel even during the heat of battle and he smirked at her expression. She turned away from him as the blush on her cheeks deepened in color even more.

 

Blaster fire from the droids hit the front of the tank and they were reminded of the situation they were in. Karel peeked out of cover for a moment and fired back at the droids, then turned to Veria and asked, "Do you have any grenades?"

 

She finally seemed to react to the situation around her and shook her head to clear her mind. She looked down at her belt and saw that she had ran out of EMP grenades, then looked up at him and replied, "I'm out!"

 

"Kark it, there goes my plan!" he exclaimed in frustration. He had acted on instincts once he saw Veria was in danger and didn't have time to think about what he would do after that.

 

"Well, what exactly were you planning?!" Veria shouted as she reloaded her blaster.

 

"You mean besides saving your life?!" he shot back. She didn't reply and instead stepped out of cover to fire, but she quickly got back behind the relative safety of the tank once she noticed her blaster didn't fire when she pulled the trigger. He also stepped out of cover for a brief moment, then after taking cover again he turned to her and asked, "What's wrong with your blaster?"

 

"I don't know, it's jammed," she replied, then tried to pull the power pack in vain.

 

"Give me that," he ordered, taking the weapon as Veria drew the DC-17 holstered on her right hip.

 

Karel inspected the weapon and quickly found what was wrong. When Veria had reloaded she had accidentaly inserted the power pack backwards and jammed the mechanism. He couldn't simply pull it out using brute force as it was too far inside the loading mechanism so he would practically have to disassemble the entire weapon and he didn't have time for that. The combined blaster fire from half a dozen super battle droids was slowly but steadily weakening the front armor of the AAT like waves breaking against the shore. All it took was one lucky shot to hit the ammunition inside and they'd be blown to oblivion.

 

"This is what I get for being a hero," he mumbled to himself as he desperately tried to come up with a plan.

 

"Mandalorians don't have heroes, Karel," his father corrected him through the comms.

 

Out of nowhere Hamar appeared, landing on top of the second MTT then rolling and running to the back of the transport. He jumped from the roof of the transport and turned in the air towards the droids. The whistling birds on his right gauntlet fired and flew towards their targets, embedding themselves in the super battle droids and cutting through their duranium frames with ease, then detonated and fried the droids' circuits as Hamar landed on the ground between the transport and the tank. The battle was dying down as the rebels once again gained the upper hand and encircled the remaining droids at the front. Hamar turned to look at Karel, glaring at him as he came out of cover and their visors met.

 

Karel opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off as Hamar spoke in a harsh tone and said, "Not now. We'll talk about it later."

 

Karel nodded stiffly. He had crossed the line this time and he knew that now, but now it was too late to mend his mistakes.

 

The explosion of a thermal detonator coming from the front of the formation caught their attention, after which Arathor spoke in the comms.

 

"The droids are destroyed, we won!" he announced triumphantly over the comms, which was met by cheers from the other Mikkians.

 

The Janseks looked at each other for a moment, then both nodded as they headed to meet up with the others, their blasters now holstered but always at the ready. The smell of burnt tibanna gas and fried circuits was accompanied by the calls for help coming from the wounded. Most of the survivors were visibly shaken by the ordeal, with only a handful of them having enough composure left to help the wounded, Veria among them as she tended to a Mikkian that had been hit by a piece of shrapnel on her right leg. And then there were the Janseks, calm and stoic as if nothing had happened. No emotions could be read on the faceplates of their visors, at least not by anyone there other than each other. They simply kept walking through the column, cool as a pair of dead stars.

 

At last they met up with Arathor in front of the transport. The man tried to give off an aura of confidence as if everything had gone according to plan, but it didn't take an expert to know this was a facade he put in front of his people. His only relief was seeing his niece was safe and unharmed thanks to the young Mandalorian now standing in front of him.

 

"How many?" Hamar whispered, leaning towards Arathor.

 

"Four are dead," Arathor replied solemnly, then muttered something to himself in his native language, which Karel supposed was some type of prayer for the dead. "Eleven more are wounded, three are in bad shape."

 

"Get the wounded back to the camp. The sooner they get help, the better their chances are."

 

"Of course," the Mikkian replied, then signaled to his people to do as they were told before turning to the transport in front of him and asking, "How long will this thing remain disabled?"

 

"Enough for us to find out what its cargo is," said Karel as he began climbing the side of the transport.

 

Once he was on top of the armoured cockpit he turned to look at his father. Hamar tossed him a cylinder-shaped device slightly bigger than his hand, which Karel caught with his free right hand.

 

"What is that?" Arathor asked, watching as Karel laid on his belly and stuck the charge over the hinge of the frontal hatch.

 

"The armor of this thing is too thick for our explosives to blast through," Hamar replied. "That over there is a thermite charge, once we activate it it will melt the hinge off and we'll get to what's inside the transport."

 

Karel slid down the hatch, landing in front of his father and the Mikkian. "It's not a lightsaber, but it's good enough."

 

"Get back, everyone!" Hamar shouted to the rebels. About a dozen of them were gathered in front of the transport and readied their weapons once again, aiming at the center of the hatch as they took a few steps back.

 

The two Mandalorians looked at each other and nodded again, after which they both drew their blasters again. The thermite charge ignited and the substances in it reacted violently to each other. Light and sparks flew off from the hinge and in a few seconds it was gone, completely melted away as the hatch fell to the ground with a thud. The rebels anxiously waited to see what was inside the transport, their sight of the inside covered by smoke generated by the thermite.

 

"Please, don't shoot!" an elderly voice shouted from inside.

 

Karel held his blasters firmly as a silhouette cut slowly through the smoke. To his surprise, the rebels all lowered their weapons as soon as they saw who was inside the transport and started murmuring among themselves in their native language. Hamar slowly lowered his blasters, and Karel followed suit as the now freed prisoner walked towards him.

 

A short, elderly, green-skinned Mikkian woman stood in front of Karel. She was dressed in a long and tattered khaki robe and her left hand grasped her walking staff, the crown of which was etched with various ancient Mikkian symbols. With her right hand she covered her eyes from the sunlight. Her head-tendrils were flat and short and waved slowly and close to her head. Around her neck hung multiple amulets made of wood, bone and other materials. As her sight started to adjust she lowered her arms, her cerulean eyes fixing on the Mandalorian in front of her.

 

"You are not the warrior I was expecting to see," the old woman said, her voice raspy due to her age. To Karel's own surprise she seemed unimpressed by him, and as she moved closer to him she tapped the forehead of his helmet with her staff and squinted her eyes, analyzing the details of his armor as she hummed now and then in thinking, all the while he stayed still.

 

"Julara," Arathor whispered in shock, his knees nearly buckling.

 

"You know this woman?" Hamar asked.

 

The two Mikkians turned to look at him. The old woman inspected Hamar like she did with Karel, leaning close to him and even trying to look under his helmet. While this was going on, Arathor spoke.

 

"For those of us who follow the Path of Sendara, Julara is our guide," Arathor explained, speaking of the old woman as if she was some mythical figure.

 

Julara approached him and laid her right hand on his shoulder, then smiled warmly and spoke in Mikkian. Arathor visibly relaxed under her touch, reminiscent of a child feeling safe in his mother's arms.

 

"Vedlaranosenya," she whispered, to which Arathor smiled back.

 

"Mediralaatemuno," he whispered back.

 

Julara walked through the rebels, who bowed respectfully to her as she greeted them one by one like she did with Arathor. As this was going on, Hamar spoke to his son through their comms so no one else could hear them.

 

"You heard anything of this "Path of Sendara" before?" he asked.

 

"Not much. From what I gathered it's a religion, one of many in this planet. Old lady's some kind of shaman or priestess," Karel replied, remembering what he researched of Mikkia when they were assigned this mission. "Is it just me or this is beginning to feel too similar to Kashyyyk?"

 

"Yeah, I was thinking that too," Hamar replied with a smirk, reminiscing of their adventure on the Wookiee homeworld.

 

As she finished greeting the others, Julara turned to look at Karel, who had returned to his father's side in front of the transport.

 

"Arathor, who are these men?" Julara asked, turning to look at the Mandalorians. "They don't look like Jedi to me."

 

"Julara, these men are helping us fight the droids. They're from the Republic," the red-skinned Mikkian explained.

 

"Is that so?" she asked, skeptical of the Mandalorians.

 

"Lieutenant Colonel Jansek, ma'am," said Hamar, then nodded at Karel. "This is Master Chief Jansek."

 

While neither one of the Mandalorians believed in a particular religion, they found it best to learn about the customs of the locals they met during their missions. They stood at attention, then bowed slightly to Julara.

 

"We should get going," said Karel. "Droids probably called for reinforcements as soon as we attacked, they could get here anytime."

 

"Of course," Arathor replied.

 

Hamar handed his son two thermal detonators. While Karel tossed them on the inside of the second transport, Hamar threw two more explosives next to the lead transport's left repulsor cooling fins and they set the timers.

 

The rebels retreated into the jungle once again, leaving the destroyed vehicles behind. Most of the rebels surrounded Julara, with Arathor walking next to her as they talked in their native language. Hamar led the main group, while Karel walked a few dozen meters ahead of the main group to scout the road back to the camp.

 

The ambush was over and the rebels victorious, but this would not be the place to decide the war on Mikkia. Back in his mansion in Sodra, Governor Quontera was being hailed by Count Dooku himself.

 

---

 

Governor's Mansion, Sodra, Mikkia, 1500 hours

 

"Governor, incoming transmission from Count Dooku," the protocol droid TC-23 announced.

 

Quontera's blood ran cold at the droid's words and he began pacing around his office, the high ceilings and cavernous interiors only helping to intensify his fears. This was the real Urodan Quontera, not the man who had so gloriously boasted about his supposed victory over the Republic. No, he was a coward; a greedy and opportunistic leecher who'd have nothing were it not for his family's influence in the Corporate Alliance. Wealth and personal well-being were the only two things that motivated the puppet ruler of Mikkia. Far from being a mighty warrior, the Koorivar was an embodiment of almost every negative stereotype of his species. The only reason he was here was due to his family's insistence as they needed one of their own to take over the planet if they wanted to obtain any profit whatsoever from its resources.

 

"Put him through," he ordered, quivering with fear.

 

The two Koorivar Fusiliers guarding the elevator to the other floors of the mansion stood at attention while the curtains that led to a large balcony closed automatically. The dim lights that illuminated the room turned off as the holotable produced a bluish reproduction of the count of Serenno. His tailored cloak was draped over his arms to his sides and held by an elegant clasp made of pure Serennian silver, and his close-fitting black tunic was simple but elegant.

 

"My lord, I-I was not expecting your transmission," the Governor blurted out, looking down at the floor.

 

"Your family assured me you were the right man for the position, Governor", said Dooku, dismissing Quontera's comment. He remained calm and composed as a true nobleman, which only frightened the Governor even more. "I hope they have not placed their faith on the wrong man."

 

"Of course not, Count Dooku. The occupation of the planet is going as planned," Quontera replied, looking up at the hologram of his master. "The rebels are almost taken care of, their destruction is at hand."

 

Dooku's face suddenly turned into that of an infuriated man. His sense of serenity faded into one of irritation as if he were talking to an inferior life form not worthy of his time.

 

"Then perhaps you would like to explain why their attacks have intensified," the count ordered, his tone growing more threatening with every word as he clenched his fists and furrowed his brow in anger. "Does that sound like a defeated enemy to you?"

 

Sheer panic crossed the Governor's face as he scrambled to give an answer to Count Dooku. The insurgency he was facing was one problem he did not anticipate once he accepted the offer to rule Mikkia, product of his lack of knowledge on the history of the locals and their relationship with the Jedi and the Republic.

 

"M-My lord, I was just about to explain that!" Quontera retorted, desperate for an excuse. "We need... fresh units to destroy the rebels. My forces are depleted, but victory is near!"

 

"I am not interested in your excuses, Governor. When you were assigned this task you were granted an entire army of battle droids. I have more important places to deploy my forces. Destroy the rebels with the forces already under your command or I will find someone who can," Dooku countered.

 

"Of course, my lord, of course. I assure you, you have nothing to worry about!" Quontera quickly assured, nervously laughing at the poor excuse he had offered.

 

"Good, I am glad we have cleared this matter. And remember, Governor..."

 

Dooku halted in his speech, holding his left hand slightly over his waist. Quontera suddenly felt as if a pair of strong hands were wrapped around his neck, first lightly and then more and more tightly as he was beginning to cough and he began to run out of breath. His two guards were confused as to what was going on but simply stood at attention, fearful of the fallen Jedi.

 

"Failure is not an option," Dooku warned, a glint of yellow in his eyes as he spoke.

 

The transmission ended and Quontera was released from whatever force was holding him and left gasping for air. His two guards rushed to his aid but he shoved them off.

 

"Find them..." he whispered, turning to face his men in anger. "Find the rebels! I want them destroyed!"

 

**********

 

News had spread quickly through the camp of the rebels' success, and as they returned to their camp with Julara she was given a warm welcome that reminded Karel of the one he himself had received on Kashyyyk. Arathor even offered her to take his tent for herself, which was opposite Hamar's and directly in front of the command post inside the temple.

 

Karel stood next to his father, who gazed forward at Julara and the other rebels, and he began slowly moving away from him. If he could disappear for a few hours then maybe Hamar would forget his little insubordination.

 

"And where do you think you're going?"

 

He halted. There was no way his father would let him get away with this one, and he considered himself a fool for even thinking he could.

 

"Haarchak," he mumbled to himself. He pointed at his tent with one hand and began rubbing his neck with the other one. "I, uh, was going to check my gear..."

 

"Well, I'd say your gear is just fine, given how you used it just now," his father noted, glaring at him under his visor and extending his arm towards the command post. "In fact, I think you should inform Commander Tamm of how well it worked."

 

Karel sighed, slouching his shoulders as he did when he was a kid.

 

"I didn't raise you not to take responsibility for your mistakes," Hamar reminded him, firm but understanding of the situation.

 

"I know, let's just get this over with," Karel replied in defeat.

 

They headed into the empty command post and immediately called Commander Tamm, who had been expecting their transmission for a while now. Her holographic depiction stood at attention with her hands behind her back.

 

"Gentlemen," she greeted. "Am I correct to assume your plan was a success?"

 

"Mostly, Commander," Hamar replied. "Casualties were high, half dead or wounded, but we managed to release a high-value prisoner from the enemy's custody, a priestess in one of the local religions."

 

"Impressive," the Commander replied, her eyes lighting up at the news. "Well, then I'm glad to inform you that I have good news too. Republic forces on Wayland have taken the planet ahead of schedule. Reinforcements bound for Wayland are being redirected to Mikkia at once."

 

"Well, that's a relief," said Karel.

 

"Indeed. The first battlegroup should arrive within the next forty-eight hours."

 

Hamar pushed Karel slightly from behind towards the holotable. Karel turned his head and glared at his father, before turning back to talk to Commander Tamm.

 

"Master Chief, is something wrong?" the commander inquired, her gaze fixed on the younger Mandalorian.

 

"Commander, during the ambush we..." He sighed, rubbing his neck. Behind him his father looked at him, silently indicating to him to tell the truth. He wasn't judging him, which calmed Karel significantly. Karel took a deep breath, then replied firmly, "Commander, during the ambush I purposefully ignored orders not to personally engage the enemy. I take full responsibility for my actions."

 

"Colonel, is this true?" the commander asked, looking at Hamar. She was most displeased by the matter, but was glad to at least be informed of it.

 

"It is, Commander," he replied, nodding his head. "However, his actions prevented the death of an important figure within this resistance group. As his commanding officer I believe a verbal warning should suffice in this case."

 

The commander looked at both Mandalorians with a slight smirk on her face. It was clear to her that Hamar was being lenient, something which she would not tolerate otherwise. Punishments for insubordination in the GAR were varied depending on a number of factors and were often decided by a court martial, which would take a long time, and that was time they did not have.

 

"Well," she said. She smirked in amusement, her shoulders relaxing as she spoke. "If that is what you have decided."

 

"I have," Hamar stated, firmly.

 

"Would that be all, then?"

 

"Yes, ma'am," they replied in unison.

 

"Alright, then. Keep me informed of the situation, and I will need the after-action report within the next 12 hours."

 

"You'll have it by then," Hamar assured. He ended the transmission, then turned to his son. "Don't think you're in the clear. I want that report by midnight, and it better be good."

 

"Oh, come on. You know how I am with reports. It will take me hours to get it right," Karel complained. As much as he liked reading them, writing after-action reports was one of the most boring and tedious assignments he had to deal with in the army. They had arrived at the camp well past noon and he would have to spend the rest of the day writing that report.

 

"Then I suggest you get on with it," Hamar countered as he left the command post.

 

"Elek," Karel replied unenthusiastically. He slouched his shoulders and bashed his head against the holotable, the sound of beskar clashing against durasteel echoing through the high-ceilings of the temple.

 

**********

 

Karel read his report one last time and, satisfied with what he wrote, signed the document and sent it to his father. He left his datapad on the table next to the small bed in his tent. His stomach grumbled as he hadn't eaten anything that day save for a ration bar in the morning and another one during their hike back to the camp. He got up and left his tent, then looked up and realized that night had already fallen.

 

He sighed as he headed to the kitchen hoping to find some leftovers from the day's meal. The kitchen tent was empty and he began looking for anything that would satisfy his hunger but to his dismay all he found was a few nuna jerky strips and some pieces of bread. Working with what he had, he took the knife sheathed on the back of his belt and cut a piece of bread in half, then placed the nuna jerky between the two halves of bread. He was too hungry to care about anything else, and scarfed the meal down.

 

"What I would give for one of Dex's nerfburgers right now," he mumbled between mouthfuls.

 

"Didn't fancy you for the kind of person to sneak around for a midnight snack," said Veria from behind him.

 

He was startled by her voice and dropped his dinner as he turned to face her. His instinct when being caught off guard was to go for his nearest weapon available which in this case was his knife, and he raised it in front of himself as the Mikkian began laughing at him.

 

"Would you please stop sneaking up behind me?" Karel asked, irritated. He sheathed his knife and looked at his dinner on the ground, then faced Veria as she was bent forwards and holding her sides. "Next time I swear I'm gonna shoot you and I'm not sure it will be an accident."

 

"Oh please, stop being so dramatic," she replied, laughing. Her head tendrils waved energetically in the air as she stood straight up and said, "I'll make sure you get a double portion tomorrow. How's that sound?"

 

Karel didn't respond as he focused on her. She wore her usual brown pants, black boots and dark green shirt with short sleeves, but she was missing her brown leather jacket. It was not a revealing attire in the slightest, but it made Karel blush as he realized how the mood in the air changed and he was reminded of her visit to his tent on his first night on Mikkia and of how he had saved her life earlier that day. Over the past weeks the two of them hadn't interacted much save for a few brief conversations and exchanging glances here and there until their experience during the ambush.

 

He had never been that bold before when it came to women, mostly due to his inexperience with dealing with women of his age. Growing up the only women in his life were much older than himself and therefore not romantic interests, but he had learnt enough from his father's interactions with Mira to know what was going on. His blush deepened as she moved closer to him, her gaze never leaving him as he looked abashed at the ground. Ask him to climb a mountain while carrying some 30 kilograms worth of armor and supplies or disassemble and reassemble over ten types of blasters with his eyes closed and he'll do it without breaking a sweat or missing a beat. But none of those skills mattered right now and he felt like a karking shiny while she watched his every reaction with amusement, a smirk on her lips.

 

"You know," she said, slowly lifting her right hand and splaying it across his chest. "I didn't thank you for saving my life."

 

"It was nothing," he mumbled under his breath, still not daring to meet her gaze.

 

She was a bit shorter than him so she had to tilt her head upwards to look at him. She raised her free hand and placed it below his chin, lifting his head slightly so he met her gaze. Her sapphire eyes were intoxicatingly beautiful as the light from the moon reflected on Karel's armor and then on her eyes, making them look like two perfect gemstones that stared right into his soul. Her lips were now just mere inches away from his and he swallowed harshly, his gaze flickering between her eyes and her lips.

 

Every logical argument for why they shouldn't be doing this was lost as she leaned forward, catching his lips with her own before he had a chance to think twice about it. He tensed for a moment but quickly melted into the kiss and closed his eyes, his arms hanging limply to his sides. Her head tendrils began moving much more vigorously than before, relieved that her advances were not misguided. Her left hand moved to the back of his head and she grabbed the collar of his vest with her other hand, pulling him closer and trying to extend the kiss for as long as she could. Only when they felt they were about to pass out from oxygen deprivation did they pull back, both left gasping for air as his forehead rested against hers.

 

"Thank you," the Mikkian whispered, their noses brushing against one another.

 

Veria leaned back in and this time Karel met her in the middle, his hands moving to hold her by her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck.

 

---

 

The following day, 0948 hours

 

A soft hand grazed Karel's chest through his flight suit as he basked in the warmth of the morning sun. A smile crossed his lips as he slept peacefully, a luxury he rarely enjoyed. His blissful dreams were rudely interrupted by his father, who dropped his armored vest on his chest.

 

"Get up!" the lieutenant colonel ordered.

 

Karel woke up with a start and leapt to his feet, hastily putting on his armor as his father glared daggers at him.

 

"What's going on?!" he asked, panicking as he thought they were under attack.

 

Hamar put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him to sit on the bed, then he spoke with a calm demeanor, which was the first sign that something was not right. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

 

Karel looked down as he slowly started remembering what had happened, then he groaned in embarrassment as he hid his face in his hands. Hamar tried to stifle a laugh as he sat on the bed next to Karel, who leaned forward and rested his elbows on his legs, still hiding his face in embarrassment at his actions. He could already picture himself writing every after-action report they'd have to file for the rest of the war.

 

"I really don't need a lecture right now," Karel said through gritted teeth.

 

"A lecture is long overdue," Hamar replied sternly, but his attitude quickly softened as he took his helmet off. "Though I would be a hypocrite if I said I wouldn't have done the same."

 

Karel knew exactly what his father was talking about, as he had grown up hearing the story of how his parents had met. Hamar still remembered the day he finally had the courage to speak to Asha for the first time as if it had happened yesterday. He cherished all his memories of his late wife greatly since they and their son were all he had left of her.

 

"Wait," said Karel, not believing what he was hearing. "Are you saying you're okay with this?"

 

"I'm saying you have to figure this out," Hamar corrected. He turned to look at Karel and was met by the eyes of his late wife, a bittersweet feeling he felt every time he looked Karel in the eye. He had taken after his mother when it came to his appearance, brown hair and eyes and light skin, but his personality was nearly identical to his father's when he was his age. "I just spoke with Commander Tamm, the 41st Elite Corps just departed from Anaxes and is on its way here. Once they arrive they'll relieve us of our mission and the Jedi will take over relations with the locals. Then you and I will be out of here and on to whatever mission comes next."

 

"Gree will love this planet," Karel remarked. His former cadet had always been fascinated with nonhumans in general, so his assignment to the 41st Elite Corps under General Unduli was nothing short of a dream come true. "What's their ETA?"

 

"Fifteen hours, they should arrive tonight so you don't have a lot of time to think about this," Hamar stood up, his helmet tucked under his arm. As he walked out of the tent he spoke, "She's in the the command post. Go talk to her, and consider that an order."

 

"Aye, aye, sir!" Karel replied, laughing to himself.

 

He took a deep breath to prepare himself and considered his options. He knew that avoiding the subject would only make things worse, so he decided to face things head on. Would he have to break things off? She was technically a civilian so they weren't breaking any GAR rules on fraternization. Maintaining a relationship with her would be hard, especially as he had no prior experience in that field. With him stationed on Coruscant and her remaining on Mikkia, spending time together would be a rare occasion, but not something impossible. The hyperspace trip was only a few hours long, so he could visit from time to time using what free time he could get between missions. He'd spend a few days on Mikkia, and maybe she could also visit him in Coruscant.

 

"That might work," he mumbled to himself as he settled on his next course of action.

 

He steeled his resolve, hastily standing up. The data stream flooded his view as he put his helmet on and his HUD activated, but he paid no attention to it as he made his way on the command post. His heart raced as his feet carried him towards the ancient stone temple, but he halted in his tracks when he was halfway there. His gaze fixed on Veria as she was walked out of the command post, once again wearing her leather jacket that was missing from last night. Their eyes met and she smiled at him. He smiled back, though he doesn't realize she can't see his face hidden under his helmet, and raises a hand to greet her, his mind going blank simply from looking at her as she walked towards him.

 

His blood ran cold and time seemed to ground to a halt as he lifted his gaze and spotted four bombers heading straight towards them. A small radar in his HUD alerted him of the enemy contacts but he ignored it, turning back to look at the Mikkian. Panic crossed her face for a split second and she looked back at Karel as the bombers dropped their proton bombs on the temple.

 

She flashed him a sad smile as she accepted her fate, and for a brief moment the memory of the last time he saw his grandfather flashed through Karel's mind. He shouted a warning and ran towards her, perhaps trying to save her from suffering the same fate as Toruk, but it was to no avail as he was instead sent flying back by the shock wave of the explosion.

 

Karel fell hard on his back, his ears ringing as he brought himself to one knee. As he looked up from the ground, the horrible sight in front of him left him aghast, but unable to tear his gaze away as Veria laid motionless in front of the obliterated temple. His heart was pounding out of his chest as he rushed towards her, the sounds of battle around him and his father's calls for him were blocked out as he ignored the throbbing pain across his body. Reaching Veria, Karel knelt next to her and cradled her in his arms, quickly taking his helmet off and dropping it to his side.

 

She was covered in soot from the explosion and blood was pouring out from wounds all across her body, soaking her torn off clothes. Her gaze met his own and tears formed around his hazel eyes as the light of the burning temple reflected on them. She smiled slightly, using all the energy she had left to raise her left hand and press it against his cheek. He reciprocated the sign, trying to enjoy what few seconds they had left. She relaxed in his arms and her head tendrils waved calmly in the air. She had lived a life that, though short, was full. Regrets, she had a few: She wouldn't be able to see her home free once again, nor would she have the chance to explore the galaxy as she had always dreamed of. Maybe, had things gone just a little bit different, would she have had that chance, and maybe she would even had someone at her side during those moments, someone she could share that happiness with. Perhaps in another lifetime, if there was one, would they have that chance.

 

As the ringing in his ears stopped the sounds of the battle around them ceased for a moment. And in that moment, Veria whispered her last words in this mortal realm.

 

"Thank you."

The words echoed through his mind as the Living Force left her. Her cerulean eyes looked away from his and towards the sky of the same color. Her head tendrils grew more and more tired until they simply gave up and hung limply in the air. Karel held her in his arms a few moments longer. He hadn't said a word, not since the shock and grief had left him unable to speak for now, not since he had seen one more person die in front of him. And with her death, something inside him snapped.

 

As his father called for him to get up and retreat back into the jungle, Karel felt something: rage. A rage so great he had never felt anything like it before in his life. He had not felt it when his family had died, nor his brothers, so why was he feeling it now? Because now he had a chance to do something about it. He couldn't have taken all of Death Watch by himself as a little kid, and he certainly couldn't defeat the entire CIS all by himself. This time, however, he had a target, something which he could unload all that rage on for once in his life. He couldn't win the entire war by himself but maybe, just maybe, he could try to win it here.

 

And as he rose to his feet, putting his helmet back on, Karel ran into the jungle and headed south, focused on the man he considered responsible for Veria's death. The man who sat high above the rest of Sodra and Mikkia, the man who had so gloriously boasted about his supposed victory over the Republic, the man who had robbed him of a chance at something good in his life. That man had now become his prey.

 

2422 hours, Sodra, capital of Mikkia

 

Darkness covered the empty streets of Sodra, the light of the moon and the stars blocked by the clouds. The city was mostly comprised of low-rise buildings made of stone and Karel observed the Governor's Mansion through his rangefinder while perched atop the roof of one of these buildings. The rage that had carried him here had only intensified and he wasn't in the mood to give up. He was going to get even.

 

Karel moved into position as the rain was pelting down, jumping from rooftop to rooftop until he was facing the west side of the mansion. Looking down he spotted a pair of Fusiliers walking south as they patrolled the perimeter around the mansion. Karel watched them in silence, stalking his targets until they were in the perfect place for him to attack. His hidden blade springing forward is the only warning they receive as Karel pounced on them from above like an ebon hawk hunting a pair of skittermice. A loud crack was heard as their heads hit the ground and Karel quickly dragged the two soldiers behind a dumpster in a dark alley. He turned towards the mansion and rushed towards a small back door built for servants and droids at the mansion and kneeled in front of it. He jabbed his hidden blade between the panel and the wall, exposing the circuitry inside, and he began searching for the right wires to bridge. Soon enough the door opened and he dashed inside and out of sight of any other patrols.

 

He sneaked through the richly decorated corridors of the ground level of the mansion, which also had a basement, first floor, and a second floor. Antiquities and other relics from across the galaxy covered the walls in an ostentatious display of the Governor's wealth and power as Karel headed towards the top of the mansion, where he was sure to find his prey. He had no real plan, no strategy for how he was going to get his revenge, but so far improvisation had worked for him. He nevertheless remained aware of his surroundings, listening intently for any sounds of someone approaching. As he looked around a corner, Karel spied on two battle droids that were guarding the door to the elevator. He reached into his belt, then rolled an EMP grenade he had towards them and the two droids looked down at the metallic sphere as it beeped faster and faster.

 

"Hey, what is that?" one of them wondered.

 

Then the device activated, releasing an EMP that fried their circuits and dropped them to the floor. Karel approached, making sure that they were deactivated for sure, then he placed a hand on the control panel of the elevator. The data stream flooded his view again as he sliced into the building's systems and once he was inside the system he sealed all the exits from the building. He dragged the two droids inside the elevator quickly and pressed the button for the first floor, since the only elevator that did reach the second floor was the one located on the other side of the first floor.

 

As the doors of the elevator opened, Karel came face to face with another two Fusiliers. After a quick exchange of surprised and confused looks Karel attacked first, fueled by the rage that had brought him here in the first place. He drew his blasters a fraction of a second faster than the Fusiliers and the last thing both of them saw was the barrel of a WESTAR-35 followed by a bright flash of green light. What Karel did not know was that Quontera had the entire first floor of the mansion dedicated to host his personal bodyguard. The squad of twelve Fusiliers had turned the rooms that lined the hallway between the two elevators into their barracks and were the last line of defense between Quontera and any attackers. Two thirds of the squad were off duty and now six of those soldiers were the only thing standing between Karel and his target.

 

Stealth was now out of the question, and as the Separatist soldiers poured out of their rooms and towards the hallway Karel began fighting like a man possessed by the spirit of a long-dead Sith Lord. The cramped hallway where they were fighting forced the Fusiliers to leave their rifles and engage him in hand-to-hand combat, giving Karel an edge and neutralizing their numerical advantage. They rushed him but he held his ground, activating his flamethrower and setting one more unfortunate soldier on fire. Five soldiers now remained and Karel charged them, reminiscent of a starved reek thanks to the fangs of his helmet. One of them, the youngest if the fear in his face was any indication, was still paralyzed in shock at the massive jet of fire when Karel charged him, impaling him with his gauntlet blade in the chest. He gasped as the air left his lungs and both of them fell to the ground but Karel used the momentum he had and rolled forward. He kneeled on the ground as the four remaining Fusiliers charged to engage him in a melee, but he had anticipated this move. The repulsor of his right gauntlet fired at them and Karel recoiled from the force of the weapon, but the four remaining soldiers crashed against the closed doors of the turbolift behind them.

 

Karel rose from the ground as one of the men on the ground moaned in pain, having broken two ribs and his cranial horn when he crashed against the door. Karel approached him, his blaster in hand, and put the soldier out of his misery with a single shot to the head. He felt nothing as the green flash reflected on his visor, then he turned back and fired another salvo at the doors of the elevator to the ground floor as it came to a halt. The doors opened, revealing four more battle droids as they fell to the floor with a thud. Karel took the elevator to the second floor, leaving behind a trail of carnage and blood. As the elevator reached the top floor the radar in Karel's armor alerted him to two more organic contacts ahead of him, then the doors opened and he caught sight of the two remaining Fusiliers guarding the door to the governor's office room and taking aim at him. He dashed for cover behind the controls of the elevator and as the soldiers fired at the wall, Karel tossed another grenade at the enemy. The lobby was quickly filled with smoke and the Koorivar soldiers held their fire.

 

"Where is it?!" one of them shouted in panic.

 

Their lack of thermal-vision equipment proved to be their doom and a loud crack came from near the middle of the hallway as Karel sneaked behind one of the guards and snapped his neck.

 

"Sergeant!" the last one shouted. "Sergeant, where are y-"

 

His panicked calls for his sergeant ceased as Karel stabbed him between the eyes with his gauntlet blade, giving him the small mercy of a quick death. The dead body of the Fusilier was left hanging in the air as Karel pulled the blade back, dropping the body to the floor as the door to the governor's office hissed open in front of him. It was then that he saw his prey, the puppet ruler of Mikkia, looking back at him. Horror crossed Quontera's face as the Mandalorian locked his eyes on him. Quontera backed away from Karel, hiding behind his protocol droid who did not understand the seriousness of the situation.

 

"Excuse me, you are not allo-"

 

The droid's protests were interrupted as Karel launched the grappling hook on his right gauntlet, which embedded itself at the base of the droid's neck. He pulled it back and kicked the droid on its abdomen with his cybernetic foot and it shattered the droid's metallic frame, crushing most of its internal components and scattering bits and pieces of the droid throughout the room. Karel himself may very well have been a droid focused solely on completing his mission. So far he had not said a word during his rampage, nor had he done anything else to show there was a man under that armor. At that moment there wasn't a man, only an enraged warrior.

 

"P-Please! I'll give you anything!" the Governor begged as he backed away from Karel, but his pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as the Mandalorian closed in on him, the blood of the last guard dripping from the blade in his right gauntlet. Karel continued walking in silence towards the governor, who trembled in fear as he bargained for his life. "Y-You want money, d-don't you? I'll give you double what they're paying you! Triple!"

 

The governor tripped on a piece of TC-23's frame and stumbled backwards, falling on his back. He dragged himself through the floor as he backed away from Karel and implored to be left alive. Karel stopped in front of the governor who had unknowingly backed himself against a wall, and the Koorivar averted his gaze, desperately hoping the Mandalorian would feel pity for him. For a brief moment he believed he would not die today as the blade retracted back into his gauntlet, but Karel had no intention of letting him live.

 

He grabbed the Koorivar by his cranial horn and dragged him towards the balcony overlooking Sodra, ignoring Quontera's cries for mercy. Karel then hauled him up by his neck as he dangled him over the handrail. He squeezed tighter and tighter, enough to bring Quontera to the brink of death without killing him yet. His arms flailed in the air as he clawed at the Mandalorian's hands.

 

"Let him go," a voice ordered Karel from behind.

 

As he looked behind he saw his father standing in the middle of the room. After making sure the surviving rebels were safe, Hamar followed Karel to the capital using the tracking device in his helmet. He didn't like the idea of Karel going rogue to exact revenge but he understood how he felt, even if Karel didn't know it. He had spent many nights blaming himself for the death of his wife and, had it been up to him, he would have hunted down every single Death Watch warrior that had shed the blood of his family. But he couldn't, not when his priority was raising his son, not when he still had something to lose.

 

The younger Mandalorian finally spoke for the first time in hours, still holding the Koorivar over the handrail but barely releasing his grasp enough for him not to pass out from lack of oxygen.

 

"Why should he live?" he asked bitterly, returning his gaze to Quontera as he balanced him between the balcony and a three-story fall.

 

"Because killing him won't bring her back," Hamar answered firmly. No matter what Karel chose, Hamar didn't plan to intervene. Killing Quontera was the easy way to end things, but he couldn't let Karel do this while blinded by his rage. He had to know that whatever choice he made, he'd have to live with it for the rest of his life. "How do you know this is what she would have wanted?"

 

There was silence between them, only the raindrops falling from the sky and Quontera's gasps for air were heard as Karel reflected on what he was doing.

 

"I don't," he confessed. "But that doesn't matter, she's gone."

 

He then released his grip, and watched as Quontera fell face-first to the ground below. His blood poured from his open skull and out onto the ferrocrete street. Karel gazed at the dead governor for a few seconds as his father approached him and stood next to him on the balcony.

 

Karel looked up, his gaze fixed forward as he watched the Tranquility cut through the gray clouds and descended upon the city, carrying with it the invasion force led by General Unduli. The Star Destroyer launched gunships from its ventral hangars and Karel turned back inside, speaking as he walked past his father

 

"Let's get out of here."

Chapter 8: Dossier 1: The Gray Hawk

Gray Hawk
Lancer-class pursuit craft

Technical specifications:

• Length: 34 meters
• Maximum atmospheric speed: 1,100 kph
• MGLT: 100 MGLT
• Hyperdrive rating: Class 1 (primary), Class 10 (backup)
• Crew: 2 (pilot, co-pilot)
• Hull: Beskar-coated titanium
• Shielding: Military-grade deflector shields
• Consumables: Six months
• Armament:
  
  • Dorsal-mounted AG-3M triple laser cannon turret
  • Forward-mounted twin Tomral RM-76 heavy laser cannons
  • Forward-mounted twin ZX7 medium laser cannons
  • Ventral-mounted retractable Ax-108 "Ground Buzzer" blaster cannon
  • Ventral hard point-mounted ordnance racks (9 variable-munition missiles)
• Other systems:
  
  • Autopilot
  • Sponson-mounted Gelieg 20m-cp Strobe/C-Beam Lamps
  • Ultra-thin outer skin beskar lamination
  • Cockpit beskar safety cage
  • Electronic countermeasures
  • Armory and cryo-furnace

The Gray Hawk's armory has a small cryo-furnace capable of reaching the temperatures needed to work with beskar, allowing the Mandalorians to maintain and fix their gear anywhere in the galaxy. To achieve this, a special set of modifications were made to the ship's fusion reactor to divert the energy produced towards the cryo-furnace. This, however, requires the ship to be landed and most of its other systems, including its engines, to be turned off, as the fusion reactor is not capable of generating enough power for all the ship's systems at once, and doing so would be extremely dangerous and could lead to catastrophic malfunctions.

The cockpit seats two beings, a pilot and a co-pilot, the latter of whom also acts as a weapons operator and seats in the front for better view to aim the on-board weapons. Access to the ship's systems is achieved through either a series of computer terminals spread throughout the ship or manually using a network of crawlways built under the main deck that could reach almost any part of the ship, giving easy access to ship's systems during flight.

One of the most significant modifications in the ship is its use of beskar and titanium. The cockpit and parts of the flight-control and life-support systems are protected by a special beskar cage, and 92% of the ship is made using titanium. The outer skin of the ship is laminated with an ultra-thin beskar coating, making the hull of the ship impervious to light blaster fire. This, along with the addition of missiles and heavier laser cannons, allows the Gray Hawk to serve as a hybrid of freighter and gunship, and its high speed and maneuverability make it more than a match in a dogfight against any starfighter.

 

Chapter 9: Chapter 8: The Sacrifice

Two and a half months after the Battle of Geonosis, Gyndine, 2740 hours

 

A pair of STAPs flew by a cliff edge in the mountains of the Markina Ridge at night. As the droids passed, Hamar emerged from a concealed position behind a rock, a DC-15x held firmly in his hands. He nodded to Karel behind him, who tightened his grasp on his own rifle of the same model as he followed his father along the cliff edge.

 

"Recon Team Phoenix reporting: One and Two in position. It's starting to get crowded up here, General," Hamar said as he looked down at the river that ran at the bottom of the cliff.

 

"Then you must be getting close. Report any Separatist activity you find. You may have to take direct action if you get caught," the General ordered.

 

From the safety of his cruiser in orbit above the planet, Jedi General Nival Odefi coordinated the Republic effort to retake Gyndine and its orbital shipyards. The young Kel Dor had been promoted to the rank of Jedi Knight only a few weeks prior and he had eagerly volunteered to be sent to the front lines like so many of his peers who believed it to be a Jedi's duty to protect and defend the Republic they served.

 

Back on the surface Karel stopped next to his father, who turned right and reached a ledge, part of the cliff edge that overlooked a small dirt road. Their position was flanked by the cliff on the left and a large boulder on the right.

 

"Copy that," Hamar replied. He chuckled as he finished the transmission, then turned to his son and said, "You always have to take direct action when a Jetii runs an op."

 

Karel didn't reply; the situation was one he no longer deemed fit for light-hearted humor. Hamar mentally scolded himself once again, reminding himself that his son wasn't a young kid anymore. Ever since their mission on Akiva he had become more serious, grim. Karel was once the one who never missed the opportunity to crack a joke, especially at a Jedi's expense, while Hamar was the calm and stoic one. Now the roles had reversed and while Karel's attitude when off duty was largely the same as before, during missions he was cool as a dead star and he barely showed any emotions.

 

"We'll be in touch," the lieutenant colonel said as he nodded to his son, then began climbing the boulder.

 

Karel nodded back and then, without thinking it twice, slid down the ledge to the dirt road below. The dense clouds in the sky blocked most light reaching the surface so Karel lowered his rangefinder and activated his night vision as he advanced quietly, his sniper rifle pointed down to the ground as the road ahead of him bent to the right and away from the canyon.

 

"Contact. Enemy patrol 30 meters ahead of you. Two clankers," Hamar warned through the comms.

 

Karel scrambled for cover behind a large boulder on the right side of the road. He then peeked his head over the rock and sure enough two droids were seen in the distance, both standing sideways to him. He took aim, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

 

"How do we do this?" Karel asked.

 

"I got the one on the right. On three."

 

Karel pressed the stock of his rifle to his shoulder and held his breath as he aimed at the other droid and his father counted down. The recoil came instantly after he squeezed the trigger, the loud but brief shriek of his blaster breaking the silence of the night, and the clankers dropped to the ground with a hole burnt in each of their heads. He rushed to their position and knelt in the middle of the road, then looked around himself to make sure he was alone. After a moment he stood up and began walking in the direction the droids came from, all the while he watched his surroundings and remained alert for any other battle droids that might appear.

 

"Command, this is Phoenix One. We just engaged two battle droids in Sector G-5. No signs of any enemy structures yet. Requesting further orders," said Hamar.

 

"Copy your last, Phoenix One. Continue with your mission and head towards observation post Cresh. Our scanners seem to indicate an extraordinarily large electromagnetic signature in that area and we need visual verification," a clone officer replied.

 

"Copy, Phoenix out," Hamar replied, then said to Karel, "There's a ridge 200 meters southeast of your position, I'll meet you there."

 

"On my way."

 

Despite the weight of his armor and extra climbing gear, Karel followed a forested path and reached the rendezvous point in no time. There his father waited for him, aiming his blaster at Karel's direction in case he had been followed.

 

"Did you run into any trouble?" Hamar asked, standing up as Karel approached him.

 

"No, it looks like that patrol was the only one in this sector. Something's not right," Karel replied, concern just barely noticeable in his voice.

 

"Yeah, I was beginning to think that too. We're deep into enemy territory and there are practically no droids."

 

"You think they know we're here?"

 

"It's hard to tell," Hamar admitted, then nodded to the ridge behind him. "Let's get to the observation post first. We should be able to see what they're up to from there."

 

Mildly excited at the chance to brush up on his climbing skills, Karel and his father aimed their rifles over the ridge and fired the ascension cables. After checking the cables were secure, the two Mandalorians started climbing. They rushed to the top of the ridge, the short climb up being just a breeze compared to climbing the highest peaks on Belsak. There their clan had thrived among the ice and snow since the days of the Old Republic, each generation more resilient than the last.

 

Now silently the two Mandalorians kept advancing towards their objective through another small and forested path. The canopy was thick, protecting them from being spotted from the air. As the two approached another ledge they leaned forward, then began crawling as they saw a large source of light coming from below the ledge. They deactivated their night vision as they reached the ledge and laid their eyes on the source of the light.

 

Like a sprawling city in the middle of the darkness, a massive Separatist landing force could be seen ahead of them in the distance. A Lucrehulk-class battleship hovered above the army it had brought to Gyndine while dozens of landing crafts shuttled droids and vehicles between the battleship and the planet surface. Droid fighters patrolled the perimeter from high up in the air to guard against enemy attacks while they set up artillery positions for air defense. Practically every type of Separatist droid and vehicle the Republic had faced before was gathered in front of them preparing to crush the Republic forces once and for all in one fell swoop.

 

"That's not good," Karel said to himself in disbelief.

 

He spied on a droid crew as they assembled some sort of gigantic artillery piece, the likes of which Karel had never seen. Almost fully assembled it dwarfed the droids around it and by his rough estimates it must have been twice as long as an AT-TE and slightly taller. "That thing must be powerful enough to blow through a troop transport."

 

"Maybe even a cruiser. Are you seeing this, General?"

 

General Odefi could hardly believe what he and the rest of his bridge crew were looking at; briefly thinking it was the result of a mind trick. This was an image straight out of a nightmare and for the first time since war broke out he realized what he had signed up for. War, he realized, was not about grandeur and glory to be won on the battlefield, but about death and destruction.

 

"What in the blazes..." Admiral Zvit, General Odefi's naval commander, whispered as he laid eyes on the hologram in front of him.

 

With that Odefi was brought back to his senses, not wanting to look afraid in front of the soldiers under his command. A Jedi knew no fear, or at least that's what he was repeating to himself in his mind over and over.

 

After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Odefi spoke calmly in the comms. "Confirmed. Receiving Phoenix One and Two's live visual of a Separatist strike force."

 

"That's no strike force, that's an invasion army," Karel corrected him, always one to speak his mind regardless of the outcome and especially in a situation as dire as this one.

 

"He's right, General," Hamar agreed. Defeating the army in front of them took priority over reminding Karel to mind his manners. "There are more than enough droids here to crush us in a pitched battle. If we are going to win this battle we have to strike soon while we have surprise on our side."

 

Odefi weighed his options quietly. The chances of success were small, the chances of survival even smaller, but they had no real alternative. Attacking was the last thing the logic-driven droids would expect. With the right strategy and the three Venators and two Arquitens under his command the Republic might just come out on top, at least long enough for their reinforcements to arrive and change the odds in their favour.

 

"All recon teams disengage and fall back... May the Force be with all of us."

 

---

 

The following day, 0700 hours

 

And so at dawn, the hopeless Republic forces did the unthinkable. They attacked.

 

They attacked the battle droids as they disembarked their ships fresh out of the factory. They attacked before they could set up their charging stations and recharge their depleted power cells. They attacked before their processors could make sense of what was happening and calculate a proper defense.

 

Out of options and with no real strategic experience, General Odefi chose to launch a full frontal assault on the western flank of the massing army with three of his four available regiment; the other regiment laid in reserve ready to pluck any gaps in the line and exploit any breakthroughs that were achieved. Admiral Zvit and the Star Destroyers remained in orbit for the time being while the pair of Arquitens hovered closer to the surface providing fire support for the troops on the ground but were kept out of range of the enemy artillery, particularly their heavy cannon. Until it was destroyed, the Republic ships could not get close enough to engage the Lucrehulk and live through it.

 

"General, we're nearing the enemy lines. How are things over there?" Hamar called in the comms as he observed his surroundings from his position on the commander's seat of a TX-130 with Karel at the controls. After driving unopposed for four klicks they were deep into enemy territory and were bound to be confronted at any moment.

 

Inspired by the Mandalorians' fearless attitude in the face of certain death, General Odefi chose to lead from the front and set an example to his men. His gunship took evasive action as it was being targeted by the enemy air defense batteries. The Separatists had realized that the gunships at the center of the formations made for the best targets as they often carried the Jedi in the most protected part of the formation, and if they were destroyed the shrapnel could hit other gunships flying nearby.

 

"Do not worry about us, Colonel," General Odefi shouted into his comlink, the cacophony of flak fire around him drowning his deep voice. "You have your mission and we have ours."

 

"We copy you. Good luck, General."

 

"Likewise, Phoenix."

 

The hot air around them was filled with tension as a formation of Hyena bombers flew overhead. But their concerns were not on the enemy bombers as Karel kept his gaze fixed forward, occasionally glancing at the indicators and sensor readings around him. Just then, an incoming transmission from Admiral Zvit came through the Mandalorians' comms.

 

"Phoenix, be advised: Our fighter wings have identified several smaller artillery units around the heavy cannon south of your location," the admiral warned as he looked at a hologram of the battlefield on the surface. They were engaging the enemy in five different fronts: one was almost won, another was reaching a stalemate and the other three were at risk of collapsing if those cannons were not neutralized soon.

 

"Copy, Admiral. We'll take care of that cannon and whatever droids we find," was the lieutenant colonel's confident reply. He had full faith in his and his son's abilities, but he was careful not to be arrogant and underestimate their opponent. Though he was not specialized in armoured warfare he remained aware that although the tank's shields and armour provided decent protection from the front, its rear was much more vulnerable. Hamar banged twice on the hull of the TX-130 tank as he observed their surroundings from the commander's seat. "Alright, Karel. You know the plan. Load armor-piercing shells."

 

"Loading armor-piercing!" Karel replied in haste.

 

With the press of a button the auto-loader prepared an armor-piercing round on each ordnance launcher as Hamar took control of the medium twin laser cannon turret. The tank accelerated suddenly, pressing Karel against his seat as he pushed the engine to full throttle. The thundering boom of the enemy cannon firing was becoming louder and louder and it shook the ground as they approached the artillery emplacement. The tension in the air was palpable as Karel adjusted his grip on the controls, steeling himself for the battle that was to come.

 

"Enemy cannon is up ahead!" Hamar cried out as the aforementioned artillery piece fired again at the Republic ships. As the tank climbed a small hill it didn't take them long to spot their prey, but they weren't prepared for what they saw.

 

The Mandalorians and their tank were facing south, parallel to and above the heavy cannon as it fired high into the air and which required a crew of two squads of battle droids to operate smoothly. With each of its shells reaching a weight of almost five tons and a length of three meters, that cannon was capable of piercing through the shields of almost any capital ship in the galaxy. To make matters worse, four smaller J-1 proton cannons were stationed around the heavy cannon to defend it against air attacks by bomber and fighter squadrons, while four DSD1 dwarf spider droids patrolled the perimeter. The cannon fired again and its crew got into action, opening the breech at the back of the cannon and ejecting the spent shell. Then another team of battle droids carried another shell from a nearby MTT and inserted it into the breach. The barrel of the cannon then elevated further as it tried to hit a base twenty five klicks away.

 

"Guess we have to keep our word to the admiral now," Karel stated as he observed the enemy position through his HUD, his former self briefly surfacing as he retreated behind the cover of the hill while they planned their attack. He half turned in his seat to look at his father, then said, "That cannon has been firing non-stop for hours, it must be overheating. If I can get close enough I could put an armor-piercing round in it."

 

"Cannon's the least of our concerns right now," Hamar replied to his son's idea. It was a good plan, but they needed something better. "We have to make good use of our first shot before they spot us. Focus your fire on the transport and the proton cannons and I'll take care of the droids. Once we're done with those we'll get rid of the cannon."

 

"Got it," was Karel's reply. The tank climbed back up the hill and overlooked the gun emplacement pit once more. Karel lowered the guns to their minimum elevation possible and positioned the tank in a hull-down position so that only the main guns and frontal armor were exposed while the lower armor was covered by some rocks. The enemy proton cannons were certainly capable of piercing the TX-130's armor, but the Mandalorians hoped that any defense the enemy put up would be no use as they had the high ground.

 

With no more time to waste Hamar manned the turret again and lowered his rangefinder as he observed the enemy position once again, searching for their first target of the day. He decided on the transport full of artillery shells that was close to one of the smaller cannons, and if they were lucky the blast would destroy or at the very least damage the nearby proton cannon.

 

"Transport two hundred meters away, traverse thirty degrees left, elevation minus eight degrees," he called out from his position in the turret.

 

In a moment Karel had the transport in his sights and he repeated the transport's position out loud to confirm they were looking at the same target. After a tense moment of silence Hamar cried out a command, and the battle began.

 

"Fire!"

 

In an instant the transport burst in flames, the adjacent cannon being disabled by red-hot shrapnel piercing its barrel as the tank was rocked back by the recoil of the cannons. Thinking they were being attacked from the air, the droids were oblivious to the tank as Karel took aim once again while the cannons reloaded.

 

"Proton cannon hundred and sixty meters away, traverse forty two degrees left, elevation minus seven degrees," Hamar called out as he began opening fire on the spider droids, instantly destroying one as they finally spotted the direction the shots were coming from. Then the droids opened fire on the tank, but their first shots missed entirely as Hamar destroyed another spider droid.

 

"Target acquired!" Karel replied just as the tank readjusted its position to fire at its new target.

 

"Fire!"

 

The tank was jolted backwards again as the cannons fired on another unsuspecting target, after which Hamar gave the order for Karel to fire at will. They worked in perfect synchrony, Hamar finding targets and Karel destroying them with deadly precision. Inside the tank one could only hear the blaster bolts hit the hull, shaking it violently as the blaster fire forced Hamar to drop inside the tank and close the hatch. At that moment the proton cannon farthest from their position opened fire on the Mandalorians' position, its shot falling short of the tank and instead hitting the ground ahead of it as Karel moved the cannons to aim at the immediate threat.

 

The earth under the tank began to give way as the enemy fire had dislodged the ground the tank was resting on and sent it downhill. The Master Chief hastily got into action and once again set the engine to full throttle; the stabilizers were working at full capacity trying to keep the tank from toppling over.

 

As the tank was about five meters from the bottom of the hill Karel momentarily diverted power from the tank's rear repulsorlifts generators to the ones at the front, using some expert driving skills that could only have come from spending hundreds of hours in a simulator. The tank landed flat on the ground, damaging its rear repulsor array as they took the brunt of the fall. With the rear repulsorlifts damaged the tank became much slower and less maneuverable, losing two of its main advantages over the enemy. But despite being damaged, outgunned and outnumbered the plucky Mandalorians did not panic. With the vulnerable rear hatch and underside safe from enemy fire and the ordnance launchers now having a clear line of sight, their grim work continued.

 

A shell from another proton cannon flew a few inches overhead as Karel turned in the direction it came from. As the tank turned to the left it was met by one of the spider droid trying to flank the tank, and the latter's heavy laser cannons did short work of the small droid. Now with the proton cannon firmly in his sights Karel fired the armor-piercing shells in the ordnance launchers. With a sickening crunch the two rounds penetrated the J-1's reloading chamber and exited through the opposite side with enough velocity to embed themselves in the heavy cannon's side armor. But the fight was not over yet, and as Karel was focused reloading the ordnance launchers Hamar observed the battlefield through his viewport, nervously searching for the last proton cannon and spider droid as the tank moved forward and closer to the heavy cannon. Its droid crew raining down ineffective small arms fire on the tank's shields and top armour. Karel now elevated the tank's pair of heavy laser cannons to aim at the droid crew and fired them at the same time, silencing the droids and destroying the cannon's barrel.

 

At that moment the last cannon and droid appeared. They were both hiding behind the cannon, the J-1 at the back end and the spider droid at the front. This tactic was a trap, for whichever one the Mandalorians attacked the other one would open fire at them. With no time to weigh his options, Karel turned the tank to face the J-1 about 30 meters ahead of him. He fired the heavy cannons at the proton cannon and almost instantly it was utterly destroyed, but before he could switch his attention to the last spider droid it fired on the tank from the side and landed a direct hit on the tank's right heavy laser cannon from point blank range. The side armour was completely destroyed as the overheated laser cannon exploded right next to the Janseks. The tank was rocked violently and they were shaken in their seats. But by some miracle of the Force they were uninjured and the tank's ammunition had somehow not cooked off, which could only have meant a gruesome death for the pair.

 

But they weren't out of danger yet, and without skipping a beat Hamar gathered himself and shouted, "Full reverse!"

 

The lumbering vehicle hastily backed out, dragging its right side through the ground as the repulsor array had been destroyed entirely and the tank was now tilting to the side. The spider droid rotated its cannon as the tank reversed away, trying to predict its position to fire at the reactor. Karel kept his gaze fixed on the droid's cannon until he caught a glimpse of red coming out of the tip of the barrel and he immediately brought the tank to a halt.

 

"Hold on tight!" he shouted to his father.

 

The shot graced the hull and Hamar, knowing what to expect from his son, shielded himself with his arms around his head. The Master Chief activated the tank's speed boost and the overtaxed power plant behind him sent the tank charging forward towards the cannon. He tightened his grip on the controls and with milliseconds to spare he put the tank on a harsh turn to the right. It slammed into the side of the cannon and was left facing the spider droid as it tried to process this unorthodox maneuver. Before it could react, however, Karel fired the ordnance launchers and obliterated the droid with a pair of high explosive missiles.

 

Karel slowly released his grip on the controls, the adrenaline leaving his veins as he flopped down on his seat and began breathing slowly to calm himself. A grunt was heard from behind and above him where his father sat. Hamar stretched as much as he could inside the cramped tank, then said, "This is the first and last time I let you drive."

 

The younger Mandalorian responded with a chuckle which quickly turned into a fit of laughter; near-death experiences seemed to be the only thing capable of bringing his old self back for a short moment. The already failing power plant finally gave out with an unceremonious puff of smoke that filled the cockpit and the two Mandalorians exited the wrecked tank.

 

"It was worth it," said Karel as he pulled himself up through the tank's top hatch. He sat on top of the tank, admiring their handiwork as he watched the droid units turned to smithereens and allowed himself a brief moment of celebration. "I should take a picture of this."

 

Not one to bask in recent successes, Hamar laughed briefly before speaking in the comms. "Admiral, this is Phoenix One. The cannon is out of commission. Your ships are clear for attack."

 

Back at the bridge of the Fortitude the Admiral could hardly believe what he was hearing. The middle son of a wealthy family on Coruscant and a graduate of the Carida Academy, he had heard about the Mandalorians' martial prowess but he never truly believed they were anything out of the ordinary. But now, hearing the voice of a man who had volunteered for what was essentially a suicide mission, he briefly considered that maybe the stories were not as embelished as he might have thought.

 

"Admiral, do you copy? Mission accomplished, the cannon has been destroyed," Hamar repeated in the comms.

 

"Copy, Phoenix," the Admiral finally replied. "Unfortunately we are not able to attack just yet."

 

"Come again, Fortitude. Did you say you can't attack?"

 

"Affirmative. Stand by, the General should be arriving at your position as we speak."

 

Karel dropped down to ground level and looked up as multiple gunships emerged from over the mountains to his right. They landed on the dry, rocky soil of the gun emplacement pit and clone troopers began pouring out of them to secure the position and establish an observation post. The Mandalorians then jumped into the nearest gunship, ignoring the dust that was lifted into the air as they were greeted by General Odefi inside the transport's troop bay. They both noticed how the Kel Dor was still shaking from the adrenaline of his first battle; his plastoid armor had some small scrapes, dinges and scratches and he held firmly to the handrail in the gunship's main hold. The gunship took to the skies once again and headed east towards the enemy battleship.

 

"Care to tell us why you're not attacking, General?" Karel asked bluntly, not even bothering to greet the Kel Dor Jedi Knight. Hamar glared at him, but otherwise did not reprimand him as the General replied.

 

"I believe someone else will be able to answer that question."

 

He pressed a button on his gauntlet as the troop bay's doors closed and a hologram of a Republic officer appeared from his holoprojector, a bluish hue radiating from her dark skin and her olive-drab uniform.

 

"Gentlemen," she said, greeting the Mandalorians with a small smile.

 

"Nice to see you again, Commander," Hamar replied with a smirk. "Mind telling us what you want us to do this time?"

 

Commander Tamm huffed and shook her head, but welcomed the playful banter with the lieutenant colonel. However, the seriousness of the situation was not lost on her, and she straightened herself as she spoke.

 

"As you already know the shipyards in orbit above Gyndine are a KDY research and development facility and when the Confederacy attacked we set our contingency plans in motion. We believed we had been able to secure or destroy all files in the shipyards' database, but we were wrong." A transmission appeared on the Mandalorians' HUDs and they opened it. The transmission included an image of a data disk and displayed its position inside the enemy battleship through a transponder beacon inside of it. "The data disk you are seeing right now has fallen into enemy hands and is held inside the battleship. It is encrypted, but we don't know how long it will take the Separatists to crack the encryption."

 

"I'm guessing you're not telling us what's in that datacard," Karel remarked.

 

"Indeed, but I can tell you what's not in it, and it certainly does not contain millions of exanodes worth of blueprints and reports vital to the Republic that cou-"

 

"We are losing this battle, and you halt our attack for this?" Odefi interrupted her, perceiving the commander's orders to get some reports as an insult to his duties as a Jedi Knight and now Jedi General.

 

The commander did her best to appear calm and composed, but like many of her fellow officers she was annoyed by the General and his order as a whole. To her, the Jedi were the least well suited people in the galaxy to lead the Republic's army. But before she could explain the seriousness of the situation Karel spoke up, turning to address the Jedi. Odefi didn't need to use the Force to sense the irritation in his voice, but he was unfazed as the Mandalorian spoke.

 

"Our priorities have changed, General," he said, mockingly addressing the Kel Dor by his new rank. "Losing Gyndine is an acceptable loss, but that intel is worth more to the Republic than a hundred of you Jetii. You should let us handle this."

 

"The Master Chief is right," Commander Tamm noted, grateful at the young Mandalorian's apparent agreement on her opinion of the Jedi. "If that data disk is decrypted by the enemy, they will know exactly what our technological capabilities are: our classified projects, weapon systems, ships' specs and weaknesses. They would know everything. So I suggest you listen to them."

 

Odefi sighed in exasperation, as he was aware of the harsh reality that although he outranked the Mandalorians they were more familiar with missions of this gravity. The Kel Dor swallowed his pride as Hamar, who had so far tried to avoid taking a side in the discussion, contacted Admiral Zvit.

 

"Admiral, this is Phoenix One. Can you hear me?"

 

"We copy you, Colonel," Zvit replied. "What do you need?"

 

"We have been informed of the situation and we're on our way to retrieve the intel. If we fail there will be no other way to get that data disk back and we can't let that happen. If we don't give you the all-clear within the next hour I want you to open fire on that battleship."

 

"Have you gone mad? If we're still inside that ship that would kill us all," Odefi interjected as soon as he heard Hamar's idea.

 

"Then we'll have to be fast," Hamar shot back at the Jedi. "Do you understand, Admiral?"

 

"General, what are your orders?" Zvit asked after a moment.

 

Odefi remained quiet as everyone waited for his response, and the enveloping silence in the gunship's troop bay was as oppressing as the empty vacuum of space. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and after praying to the Force one more time, the general spoke.

 

"You heard the colonel. Give us one hour and we'll do what we can."

 

"Understood. Good luck, everyone."

 

---

 

The gunship maneuvered through the canyons as it headed east, towards the battleship. With the bulk of the droid army still occupied fighting the clones on the ground, there was little chance they would be discovered as they sneaked past the enemy formations through a gap in their artillery coverage that was just big enough for a lone gunship to pass through.

"We're approaching the drop-off. Two minutes," the pilot called out.

 

The lights inside the gunship's main hold turned red as the Mandalorians inspected their blasters one more time. Odefi stayed still, trying to focus on the Force with limited success. His baptism by fire had been full of death and destruction, yet the Mandalorians in front of him acted like it was just another normal day for them.

 

"Alright, here's where we're at," said Hamar before activating the holoprojector in his gauntlet and he explained the pictures it depicted. "Our main target is retrieving that data disk before the Separatists can get to what's in it. The admiral's fighter squadrons have managed to neutralize some of the battleship's point-defense cannons, creating an opening just big enough for us to land in one of its outer hangars. From there we'll push our way into the ship and head towards level 34. That's where the datadisk is located inside the ship's communications center. Any questions?"

 

"There are thousands of battle droids aboard that ship," Odefi noted, still not fully on board with the plan. "How exactly do you plan to reach the datadisk without getting killed?"

 

"The droids may outnumber us, but we outmatch them," Karel remarked, pointing between his father and himself. He then turned his attention to his blasters, and as the battleship came into view he holstered his right blaster after changing the power pack for a new one. At the same time Hamar sheathed his axe, meanwhile the battleship's point-defense cannons tried to shoot down the gunship that was outside their range of fire.

 

"Thirty seconds!" the pilot announced, and the Mandalorians knelt by the left side opening of the troop bay ready to get out at a moment's notice.

 

The battleship dwarfed the lone gunship as it approached one of its hangars at full speed. Even before it reached the hangar it was being fired upon by the droids inside, but their blaster fire proved ineffective against the diminutive gunship. As soon as it crossed the hangar's door the pilot stopped suddenly and put the transport on a harsh turn to the left, facing the side of the hangar. The gunship's right troop bay door remained shut, shielding the Mandalorians and General Odefi from blaster fire as they jumped out of the gunship from the other side of the transport and landed in the middle of the hangar. The gunship turned away and flew out of the hangar, once again evading shots from the battleship's point-defense cannons.

 

Even before they touched the ground the small strike team was met with overwhelming blaster fire from the droids in the hangar as they stood in the center of the hangar. General Odefi faced the door that led deeper into the ship with each one of the Mandalorians standing to his side and trading fire with a squad's worth of battle droids. But they were no match for the pair of Mandalorians and the Jedi Knight, and they were quickly disposed of. As Odefi deflected a droid's blaster bolt back at it the door in front of him closed, seemingly trapping the strike team in the hangar.

 

Without missing a beat, Karel rushed to the panel next to the door, inserted a computer spike into the scomp link and began slicing into the ship's computer. Hamar then instructed General Odefi to cut through the blast door using his lightsaber, to which the General obliged without hesitation.

 

"Forty nine minutes until the Admiral begins his attack. Karel, where are you on the ship's plans?" Hamar asked impatiently.

 

His deep voice and focus of a predator was intimidating to friend and foe alike as he took command of the situation immediately, but his daring leadership and rock-solid reputation were the true reason why he had earned the respect of those under him and the trust of those above.

 

"I'm working on it..." was Karel's blunt reply.

 

The data stream filled the Master Chief's visor as he attempted to break into the ship's computer. The security was formidable, but not enough to delay the young Mandalorian for too long. A satisfying beep confirmed he had sliced into the ship's systems and his HUD promptly showed the shortest route to the battleship's communications center.

 

"I'm in," Karel announced just as the Kel Dor was finished cutting through the blast door. "There's a turbolift four hallways to the left that will take us straight to level 34. From there the comms center is four hundred meters away."

 

"Good, lead us there," Hamar said.

 

Odefi used the Force to push the carved out section of the door away and, with the way now clear, the small strike headed deeper into the battleship, Karel taking point as he led the way. The unfamiliar interior of the Separatist warship put General Odefi on edge as they ran through the empty corridors. Commands shouted over the ship's loudspeakers only served to fuel his anxiety as the two Mandalorians ahead of him advanced with their blasters drawn, finally reaching the turbolifts.

 

"How much time do we have left?" Odefi asked as Karel called an elevator to their floor.

 

"Thirty five minutes and twenty seven seconds," Hamar replied as the turbolift arrived.

 

Karel aimed his blasters at the opening doors, but to their relief the turbolift was clear of battle droids. The strike team entered it in haste, and as soon as the doors closed the turbolift began ascending to level 34 and the Mandalorians took advantage of the brief lull in the battle to inspect their equipment.

 

"Fortitude, we've infiltrated the battleship and are closing in on the comms center. What's your status?" Hamar asked through the comms.

 

Back in orbit, the Fortitude began to enter the atmosphere of the planet, followed closely by its two sister ships, Courageous and Endurance. The three Star Destroyers were the hammer that would deal a decisive strike against the Separatist war machine, bringing victory to the Republic in Gyndine.

 

"We are preparing to attack on the General's orders. As soon as you give us the all clear, we'll be there to finish the job," the admiral replied, speaking with his thick Coruscanti accent as he analyzed the battlefield using his holotable. Once the heavy artillery cannon had been destroyed the battle quickly turned in the Republic's favor as victory grew ever closer.

 

Chaos reigned across the Fortitude as all hands were ordered to man their battle stations. The crew of the port bridge worked tirelessly to coordinate the other two capital ships and their forces on the ground, all the while maintaining contact with their counterparts on the starboard bridge who were tasked with coordinating all starfighter activity. Commands were being shouted across the bridge and through the comms as the Admiral ordered every starfighter at his disposal to the planet surface. Within seconds squadrons of Y-wings and V-19s were pouring out of the ship's hangars, then dived down towards the planet surface as the clone pilots went into the fray without hesitation.

 

"Solid copy, Fortitude. We'll do our part."

 

The turbolift came to a halt as it reached level 34 inside the Separatist battleship. Once again Karel led the way, guiding them through the maze of hallways and doors that they found themselves in.

 

"It's too quiet here. What is going on?" Odefi asked the pair of Mandalorians as they rushed through the seemingly empty corridors of the ship. Eerie alarms and a dangerous presence in the Force warned the Jedi against proceeding, a decision which was no longer in his hands.

 

"What do you think is happening, Jedi?" Karel shouted sarcastically to the Jedi Knight. He then turned right on a corner, and his father and the Kel Dor followed him.

 

"They're setting up an ambush," Hamar added. "The data disk is the perfect bait and they knew we'd try to get it back, but they were probably expecting a larger group."

 

"You knew this was an ambush, and yet you still decide to walk right into it?" Odefi asked the older Mandalorian. His usually serene tone was replaced by one of confusion and, to a lesser extent, anger.

 

"You got a better idea?" Karel asked, looking back at the General, who found it hard to come up with a logical argument. "This is it, the data disk is just on the other side of that door.

 

"They arrived at a large blast door over two meters tall and painted in the same dull grey as the rest of the ship's interior. In its center was the seal of the Confederacy, which split in two when the doors would open.

 

"Open the door General, we'll cover you," Hamar ordered.

 

Odefi immediately began cutting through the blast door as the two Mandalorians turned their backs at him and scanned the hallways for any battle droids that might approach. It wasn't until now that he truly believed they might have a chance at succeeding on their mission and he focused completely on cutting through the blast doors, the sound of his lightsaber cutting through the metal door drowning the situation around him.

 

An eerie sound filled the hallways and it quickly became louder and louder, as if a large avalanche grew closer and closer with each passing second.

 

"Better hurry up, General. We're sitting mynocks here!" Karel shouted, instantly recognizing the sound that sent a shiver down his spine.

 

The Master Chief scanned his surroundings as he looked for the source of the sound, which echoed through the hallways. His gaze flickered between the hallways in front of him and to his left, while his father guarded the opposite side.

 

Then, just as the Kel Dor finished cutting through the blast door and pushed it open, three droidekas rolled into view, coming from the hallway directly in front of the blast door.

 

"Destroyers!" Karel shouted, and he and his father opened fire with their blaster pistols, barely making a dent in the droids' bronzium armor as they activated their shields and began laying down volleys of blaster bolts with their own blaster cannons.

 

As he turned to face the destroyer droids, General Odefi was hit square in the chest. He was dead in an instant and his lifeless body fell to the floor, still holding his lightsaber in his hand.

 

"Get him inside!" Hamar shouted as he kneeled in front of the General's body, returning fire with his blasters and shielding himself and his son with the personal shield equipped in his left gauntlet.

 

Karel picked up the lightsaber and dragged the body of the Jedi General inside the communications center and his father followed him in. As soon as they were inside Karel punched the control panel in the wall. The doors closed shut and Karel hit the control panel again, this time with his gauntlet. Sparks flew off from the panel as the Mandalorians were now effectively trapped inside the communications center. With no time to waste, Hamar quickly took command of the situation and gathered himself.

 

"Fortitude, this is Phoenix One. Do you copy?" he called into the comms as he kneeled next to the Jedi's body while Karel began looking for the data disk.

 

"Come in, Phoenix One. What's your status?" Zvit replied.

 

"Found it!" Karel shouted, holding up a data disk in his right hand that he then stored in one of his belt pouches.

 

"We have good news and bad news, Admiral. Good news is we have found the data disk. Inform Commander Tamm we have the intel in our hands."

 

"And the bad news?" Zvit asked tentatively.

 

"The intel came at a price. General Odefi was killed in action and we're trapped inside the comms center surrounded by a thousand battle droids programmed to shoot us on sight."

 

"I see," the admiral said after a moment. He had only worked with the Jedi Knight for a few weeks, and as such his death was not an emotional loss to him as much as it was a strategic one. However, he quickly realized that the lieutenant colonel he was talking to was much more qualified to lead them in this battle. "What are your orders, Colonel?"

 

"Continue with your attack as planned. You have your orders whether we find our way out in time or not. Phoenix out." Hamar ended the call and took a thermal detonator from his belt and handed it to his son, who kneeled on the opposite side of the Jedi's body. "Let's leave them a little surprise."

 

Understanding what his father meant, Karel took the explosive and programmed the dead man's trigger, then placed the device between the Jedi's hands and turned his body over so it was lying face down.

 

"Done. That should buy us some extra time", said Karel as he stood up.

 

“Can you find a way out of here in the ship’s plans?” Hamar asked.

 

Karel scanned through the plans using his HUD, but frustratingly the set of plans he had obtained were of limited use as they omitted most technical details of the ship. Frustrated, Karel turned to his father and replied, “Negative. We’ll have to find another way out of here.”

 

Hamar for his part was facing a wall as he looked for a way out of the comms center, too focused to say anything as he noticed a series of pipes that led from the computers in the comms center and to the wall.

 

"What are you thinking?" Karel asked, confused.

 

"These computers must generate a lot of heat, and they are liquid-cooled. There should be a service tunnel with heat pipes leading away from this room."

 

Hamar banged on the wall a couple of times and after hearing a hollow sound behind the wall he knew he had found what he was looking for. He took a step back and, without warning, buried his axe into the wall. He then split it open using the axe as a lever, and he and his son headed into the network of service tunnels inside the ship.

 

As blasters were of little use in such close quarters, Hamar held his axe in his right hand and activated the hidden blade on his left gauntlet and Karel did the same with his knife and hidden blade, also on his left gauntlet. The two Mandalorians traveled for some time through the maze of tunnels as they followed the steam pipes, all the while remaining aware of the urgency of the situation.

 

"How did you know about these tunnels?" Karel asked.

 

"Once, when I was working for MandalMotors, Rseik Hullspace outsourced the manufacture of an order of shield generators and we got the contract. I was tasked with delivering the order to Rseik, who just happened to be part of the Trade Federation," Hamar explained as he led them through the maze of service tunnels running through the ship. "They offered me a ride on one of these, and during the journey I had to find something to keep me busy."

 

"Like carrying out industrial espionage?" said Karel, matter-of-factly, as the two reached a crossroads and turned right.

 

"I was just taking a tour of the ship," Hamar responded, shrugging him off. "What? You didn't think you got your curiosity from your mother, did you?"

 

"That explains it", Karel replied, mostly to himself.

 

They had been walking blindly through the hallways for a long time, as the steam in the air messed up with their thermal vision. The steam and claustrophobic space, however, were the smallest of their problems as Karel saw the chronometer in his HUD and realized with dread that they had exactly 12 minutes left to escape from the ship.

 

Hamar suddenly stopped, signaling to his son to stay quiet by raising his left hand in the air. He moved closer to the wall on the left and rested his hand on it, feeling for any vibrations that might come from conversations or machinery on the other side of the wall. Then, without a warning, he buried his axe into the wall once more and forced his way inside, followed by his son.

 

"You better find a way out of here soon or we're going down with this ship," Hamar warned his son.

 

"Follow me," Karel replied with a smirk after looking at the plans for a moment.

 

The two made their way through the hallways once more, all the while avoiding droid patrols until they reached a large set of doors. They opened in front of them, revealing a vast hangar on the other side. Ahead of them were only a few crates of supplies, but to their relief there were no droid units that would attempt to thwart their escape.

 

Hamar called Admiral Zvit through the comms. "Admiral, I'm sending you the coordinates for our extraction as we speak. Have you commenced your attack?"

 

From the bridge of the Fortitude, Admiral Zvit could see the enemy battleship in the distance growing closer and closer as the Republic ships advanced towards it at full speed. Fighter and bomber squadrons flew ahead of the main force to soften the enemy's defenses, and the enemy in turn launched its own fighters to intercept them.

 

The admiral received the coordinates and immediately ordered a gunship to be sent, then he returned to his call with the colonel and said, "We just did, Colonel. We're heading towards the enemy as we speak and-"

 

"Clankers!" Karel shouted as a blaster bolt zipped past his head, narrowly missing him as it hit the crate next to him.

 

Squads of B1 battle droids rushed inside the hangar and opened fire at the Mandalorians, who immediately scrambled for cover behind the nearest crates of supplies. The droids fired wildly in the general direction of the Janseks, forcing them to keep their heads down as more and more battle droids poured into the hangar.

 

"We're pinned down," Karel shouted, before peeking out of cover and unloading an entire power pack at the droids. "Where the hell's our evac?"

 

"We have bigger problems than that," Hamar replied, looking at the dogfights that were being fought outside the hangar between the hundreds of clone pilots in their V-19s and the vulture droids. One V-19 scored a direct hit on a vulture droid's engine, engulfing it in flames and sending it hurtling towards the hangar at full speed.

 

"Incoming!"

 

The Mandalorians rushed out of the way of the incoming fighter as it loomed closer and closer, ignoring the droids firing at them as they stood in the middle of the hangar. The stricken vulture droid crashed right through them, turning most of them into scrap metal as it came to a halt near the doors to the rest of the ship. The hangar quickly filled with smoke from the burning wreck, blinding the droids as they fired wildly in all directions. The Janseks stood up in haste, then rushed into the cloud of smoke and began tearing through the remaining droids in the ensuing melee.

 

"Colonel Jansek, this is gunship UH-144. We are arriving at the extraction point. Can you hear me?" a clone pilot called over the comms.

 

The gunship appeared from the side of the smoke-filled hangar and headed towards it. In the cloud of smoke, the two Mandalorians worked in perfect unison as they cut through the battle droids with ease. Karel used the repulsor in one of his gauntlets and fired it at a trio battle droids. They were thrown against a wall and the smoke simultaneously dissipated, revealing the two men standing amidst the destroyed battle droids.

 

Hamar turned to his son, and after seeing he was unharmed he replied in the comms, "We copy, 144. Make it quick because we're not planning on dying today."The gunship passed through the hangar opening and turned in the air to face the way it came from as it descended, hovering just above the ground as the Janseks boarded the passenger bay.

 

Gunship 144 then rushed out of the hangar as the Republic fleet approached the Lucrehulk-class battleship in a wedge formation. Fortitude led the way with Endurance and Courageous on its port and starboard side respectively. Between the three Star Destroyers were the two light cruisers Zertoria and Vanguard.

 

Hamar looked back at the enemy vessel as they flew away and said, "Fortitude, this is Phoenix One. We're out of the enemy vessel and you're free to engage."

 

"Copy that, Phoenix One," a clone officer replied. "Be advised, all ground units: capital ships are inbound, and a weapons-free command has been issued."

 

“That much firepower for a single battleship?” Karel asked his father as they looked at the Separatist battleship.

 

“One way to get their attention. Hold on!”

 

At that moment the entire Republic fleet opened fire at the enemy battleship with everything they had. From point-defense turrets to turbolasers and proton torpedoes, everything was thrown against the battleship's shields, which could simply not withstand the combined fire of the KDY ships and quickly gave out. Several explosions appeared on the surface of the vessel as the Republic cannons focused their fire on the core ship, pummeling it with everything they had in a very one-sided duel that ended as quickly as it had begun. Systems began failing and soon enough the vessel's engines and repulsors failed, bringing the ship down to the surface of Gyndine. As it crashed against the ground the dust it lifted blocked sight of the wreck, but the Republic ships kept firing as their attack turned into the execution of a helpless enemy.

 

But before the Republic could claim victory on Gyndine, a single shot from a turbolaser was fired from orbit at the bridge of the Fortitude. It landed right on target, causing an explosion that destroyed the dual bridge and left the cruiser headless, and the ensuing chain reaction caused a series of secondary explosions along the hull as Fortitude began to plummet towards the ground.

 

“Multiple enemy contacts in orbit!” an officer on the Endurance’s bridge cried out.

 

“No. No! Somebody tell me this ain't happening!” Karel shouted in disbelief.

 

"Fortitude, do you copy?" the pilot of the gunship called through the comms.

 

"Fortitude is dust! We need to get out of here, now!" Hamar shouted to the pilot.

 

The aft section of the Fortitude exploded and the forward section crashed to the ground. The Mandalorians looked up and shivered with fear at what they saw as the gunship flew away from the engagement zone as fast as possible.

 

A Separatist dreadnought and its two escorting destroyers and four frigates cut through the clouds as they rained down death and destruction on the Republic fleet. The light cruisers were destroyed in a matter of seconds as the larger Separatist fleet obliterated them with just a few shots from their turbolaser. Courageous was the next to fall and Endurance was now at the mercy of the Separatists. It too was torn apart by their relentless attack, but in a final act of defiance a single shot was fired from the doomed ship before a catastrophic explosion tore the ship in half.

 

---

 

36 hours later, Markina Ridge

 

Fallen soldiers covered the surface of Gyndine as the Separatists consolidated their hold over the planet. After destroying the enemy fleet, the Separatists established a blockade in orbit above the planet, with their dreadnought serving as their new flagship after the destruction of their battleship. With no capital ships or even starfighters left, the situation for the GAR had deteriorated in mere hours as they were annihilated by this new enemy. Scattered groups of survivors hid in the wilderness of the planet, knowing that while death was certain if they continued the fight, surrender was not an option.

 

Within an abandoned mine in the Markina Ridge, one such group took refuge from the orbital bombardment on the planet's surface. The atmosphere was grim and somber as the cave was rocked by the intense shelling, and the lights flickered on and off as small pebbles were dislodged from the cave's roof.

 

After what felt like an eternity the bombardment stopped, for now, and the troopers inside the cave went back to work. Some were taking an inventory of what few supplies they had left, others cleaned their weapons, but all were looking for something to distract themselves from the desperate situation they found themselves in. With General Odefi and Admiral Zvit dead, command was passed on to Hamar as the highest-ranking officer, and he desperately tried to come up with a plan to hold out until their reinforcements arrived.

 

Karel, however, decided to explore the abandoned mine, navigating his way through the narrow corridors until he reached the innermost chamber of the cave system.

 

He stumbled and looked down. An empty metallic canister rolled out from under his legs. The Master Chief looked closely at the red label on the canister, then adjusted his HUD's infrared view. As it compensated for the lower visibility in the mine, Karel looked around and swallowed hard. Dozens of canisters of baradium bisulfate lay in piles around an overturned, rusting repulsor cart. An ASP-series labor droid with a missing limb and broken faceplate lay against a dusty old tarp. Wary, but determined to know what else might present a danger in the shaft, Karel crept forward and carefully pulled the tarp off its long-hidden contents. He coughed as the movement kicked up dust and grit, but stopped abruptly when he saw what lay underneath the tarp. A phase connector. And an unstable-looking one at that. In far worse shape than the explosives strewn about the clearing around it. Karel knew mining was a dangerous job with big risks and little reward, but he couldn't begin to imagine who would've authorized the use of such a dangerous and faulty part. Still, the Mandalorian didn't have time to ponder or muse on the device's origins. It was seemingly pure luck that it hadn't gone off in all this time, but his presence here might have changed that luck for the worse.

 

Despite his helmet's environmental controls, sweat ran down Karel's brow as he thought fast, looking for a timer, detonator or anything that might set off the explosives.

 

When he found none, Karel flopped down on the ground, and began breathing deeply to calm himself. A metallic clang on the left side of his belt reminded him of General Odefi's lightsaber that he was carrying. There, sitting in a cave full of explosives that could go off at any moment, Karel remembered something. A research paper written by Dr. Galen Erso discussing the energy amplification capabilities of a kyber crystal.

 

The young Mandalorian came up with an idea in desperation, and he turned that idea into a plan as he wrote a series of calculations on the ground. After he finished doing his calculations, Karel laughed in astonishment as he confirmed his plan was feasible. But just to be sure, he made the calculations once more, and then another two times before he truly believed his plan had any chance of succeeding.

 

Karel hastily picked a canister of the explosives and got on his feet, then ran through the passages of the cave system looking for his father, who had gathered with some of his troopers in front of a holotable to discuss what they would do next. Some wanted to fight, others were more cautious and suggested they should instead hold out until their reinforcements arrived. But none of them even considered surrender.

 

Hamar remained stoic, arms crossed as he fixed his helmeted gaze on the holotable. In all his years of fighting he had never found himself in a situation as grim and desperate as this one. Despair gripped him as he did his best not to look afraid, knowing how important it was for the men's morale to have a leader they could trust to get them through this.

 

"I got it!" Karel shouted from afar, his voice echoing through the cave as he made his way to his father while he held the canister high up in the air. He came to a stop in front of his father, his hands trembling as he set the canister down on the holotable with extreme care.

 

"Got what?" Hamar asked, glancing down at the canister.

 

"I found a way we can destroy that blockade. I know how we can win."

 

"All our ships have been destroyed," Hamar cut him off. This was far from the right time for another one of his son's crazy ideas. "Our best option is to wait for backup."

 

"They're walking into a trap. And if we don't do something about the blockade it won't be long before we're all dead," Karel shot back.

 

The cave fell into a deadly silence as all activity ceased. The troopers gathered around the Janseks, who fixed at each other with a piercing gaze.

 

"Would you at least listen to it before you say no? " Karel asked, pleading to be heard.

 

"Fine," Hamar conceded after a moment. "What’s your plan?"

 

Karel picked up the metal canister and showed it to his father, then said. "This is baradium bisulfate. It's used as an explosive to blast rock for mining operations. A kilo of this stuff is all you need to make a cavern of this size.”

 

"And this is relevant. How?"

 

"There are dozens of these canisters down here, plus a surprisingly undetonated phase connector. Combine those two and you have an explosion big enough to destroy a Separatist dreadnought."

 

Karel turned his head to the left and his father followed his gaze to where their only remaining Nu-class shuttle was landed. It had some minor damages and carbon scorching, but she could still fly.

 

The Master Chief then pushed some buttons on the holotable and it played a holographic copy of the planet from orbit as Karel spoke.

 

"First, we load the baradium bisulfate on the shuttle and use it to get us into orbit. The Separatists' ships are emerging from hyperspace on the other side of the planet and then travel to this side using their sublight drives. You and I can perform a space walk towards one of the Separatist frigates heading for the blockade and capture it."

 

"They will know we’ve captured that ship the moment an alarm is raised. Blockade’s going to open fire on us as soon as we’re in range.”

 

Karel smirked under his helmet, then said, "Not if they don’t know the ship has been captured. The magnetic field of Gyndine is stronger than those of most planets. Not strong enough to impede ground-to-space communications, but it does block all signals trying to cross to the other side of the planet without relays in geosynchronous orbit, all of which have been destroyed. That frigate will be in the dark long enough for us to take control of the ship. Then we can bring our shuttle and the explosives aboard the frigate and set it on a collision course against the dreadnought. It wouldn’t destroy the fleet, not by itself, but it would if we used this."

 

Karel took the lightsaber hanging from his belt and opened it. He took the weapon’s kyber crystal and held it in his open hand as he continued describing his plan.

 

"A kyber crystal, regardless of its size, can amplify the energy it receives by orders of magnitude. If the paper I read and my math are correct then the blast would be enough to destroy that dreadnought and half of its escort fleet."

 

The clones murmured among themselves as they heard the plan. It was near-suicidal, but a much better choice than hiding like rats.

 

"Even for you this is…" Hamar said after a moment, unsure how to best describe this plan.

 

"Inspired?"

 

"Not exactly the word I’d use. And you’re sure this will work?

 

“I did the math four times. It will work,” Karel replied, crossing his arms as he stood confidently in front of his father.

 

Hamar remained as calm as he could be and turned to the clone on his left, then asked, “How long until our reinforcements arrive?”

 

"Carrier Battle Group 5 under Admiral Wurtz and General Krintu should arrive within the next 13 hours, sir," the trooper replied.

 

The orbital bombardment started again, rocking the cave once more as everyone waited anxiously for the Colonel’s reply. It continued as Hamar weighed his options, the walls around them threatening to collapse at any moment. The older Mandalorian looked defeated at the floor for a moment before the bombardment stopped and he met his son’s gaze.

 

"This will either be the best or the worst decision I’ve ever made. Load the explosives."

 

**********

 

The Republic shuttle rose through the skies of Gyndine, its special cargo attached to the underside with a magnetic clamp. Inside the passenger bay were the two Mandalorians and a squad of nine clone troopers. Seated in two rows facing each other, none dared to break the oppressive silence as they left the planet's atmosphere. The tension was palpable, the urgency of their mission clear.

 

Karel breathed slowly, trying to calm his nerves as his father ordered everyone to check the vacuum seal of their armors and the pilots vented the atmosphere from the passenger bay. The weight of the JT-12 jetpack attached to his back diminished as the gravitational pull from the planet decreased, but the same could not be said about his fears as he remained aware of the importance of his plan's success.

 

He mentally kicked himself as he and his father stood up from their seats. A Mandalorian knew no fear, even in the face of certain doom.

 

The two Mandalorians stood in front of the hatch as the red light next to them illuminated the troop compartment. A few moments later it turned green and the hatch opened. Their armors were now the only thing standing between them and the vacuum of space as they waited for their target to appear.

 

Soon enough, a Munificent-class star frigate appeared from the right side of their field of view, and they zoomed in on the distant starship using their rangefinders. Their armors' battle computers automatically calculated the frigate's trajectory and an interception route.

 

"Frigate just entered a blind spot in their battle net," Karel informed his father.

 

"How long will it stay in the dark?"

 

"At its current speed, about half an hour."

 

"That should be enough. Are you ready?" Hamar asked, turning to his son. His heart racing, Karel nodded firmly before turning his head back to the front. "Go!"

 

The jetpacks on their backs ignited, propelling them towards the enemy vessel. They glided through the void, making small adjustments to their trajectory. The smallest error or miscalculation could prove fatal when navigating the vast space that lay between them and their target, so they flew extremely close and within sight of each other. Soon enough the Munificent-class frigate came into view. Aiming for the bridge at the bow of the vessel they were rapidly closing in on the frigate, which was now so close they could see the droids inside of it.

 

As the distance between them and their target decreased rapidly, the Mandalorians aimed for one of the bridge's port side viewports. The missile launchers in their jetpacks fired, and two small homing missiles flew ahead of them, severely weakening the transparisteel panel on impact. They braced themselves for impact and crashed against the panel, shattering it into a thousand pieces as they landed on the floor and the atmosphere was violently vented from the bridge. Now pulling them back towards the void of space, they planted themselves firmly and activated their magnetic boots as battle droids went flying out of the broken windows. When their magnetic boots started slipping away they set their jetpacks to full thrust to counter the pull of the venting atmosphere, while at the same time they fired their grappling hooks and anchored themselves to the floor.

 

The ship's breach protocols activated not a moment too soon and a series of metal panels emerged from under the viewport and protracted towards the top. As soon as the bridge was sealed once more the Janseks turned off their jetpacks and retracted their grappling hooks.

 

Without missing a beat, the Mandalorians went into action. Knowing exactly what they had to do, Karel rushed to the nearest terminal and took control of all of the frigate's systems.

 

"Set the ship on a refueling track with the dreadnought and vent all outer compartments. The less droids there are on board the less trouble we'll have," Hamar ordered.

 

"Already ahead of you. I also sent an energy spike down the processors of every droid plugged into the ship."

 

"Good thinking. Let's go." As they left the bridge, Hamar called for their shuttle through the comms. "Purrgil, this is Phoenix One. First phase of Operation Iron Strike is completed. Proceed with phase two."

 

"Copy that, Phoenix One. We're on our way to the hangar."

 

With the first part of their mission finished, the Mandalorians ran through the maze of hallways aboard the Separatist frigate. Unopposed, but occasionally coming upon battle droids disabled by the energy spike, they arrived at the hangar just as their shuttle came into view. The pilots landed the shuttle with extreme care, careful not to damage their improvised bomb. It was relatively simple in its design. At its core was the phase connector, and attached to its exterior were several additional canisters of baradium bisulfate. Inside the phase connector was most of the baradium bisulfate and the kyber crystal, placed there to absorb as much energy as possible from the explosion before amplifying it. It was all connected to a timer attached to the front of the bomb, which was in turn connected to a detonator.

 

The squad of clone troopers and the pilots disembarked from the shuttle. Armed with DC-15A blaster carbines and DC-17 blaster pistols, the clones secured the perimeter around the Purrgil. Suddenly, the doors to the hangar were blown up and an entire platoon of B2-series super battle droids appeared, firing upon the Republic strike team.

 

"Protect the transport!" Hamar ordered.

 

The Mandalorians and the rest of the strike team fired back at the battle droids. If one blaster bolt hit the bomb it would mean a gruesome fate for everyone aboard the ship, droids and organic alike. The troopers gathered around the Purrgil and put up a tenacious defense, but the enemy's numbers were too great. Having been caught in the open the clones were easy targets, and one by one they were cut down. But despite this, the defiance of the clone troopers in the face of certain death was admirable, and once the firefight was over the two Mandalorians were left standing on the hangar alone, the bodies of clones and droids strewn about the place.

 

"Seal the door. I'll arm the bomb," Hamar ordered.

 

Karel rushed to the control panel next to the door and shot at it with his blaster twice.

 

"We're clear," he said as he returned to his father.

 

Hamar stood in front of the bomb attached to the shuttle, attempting to arm the timer, which beeped as it failed to respond.

 

"Damn it... So, it's going to be like that."

 

Hamar hit the timer in frustration, and Karel could tell that something was wrong from the way his father moved to talk to him.

 

"Well, I got good news and bad news. The transport took some fire and her thruster stabilizer is toast, which means the only way off this frigate is another space walk."

 

"And the good news?" Karel asked tentatively. Although things hadn't exactly gone according to plan, he was hopeful they could improvise something.

 

"That was the good news."

 

An alarm appeared in their HUDs as the frigate left the blind spot in the Separatist battle net.

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

 

Hamar removed his helmet and held it in his left hand. For what was perhaps the first time in his life, Karel could see fear in his father's eyes. A memory surfaced in his mind, a memory that was starting to repeat itself.

 

"Bad news is, the timer's fried. I'll have to fire it manually."

 

Karel couldn't believe what he was hearing, and alarm bells started to ring in his head. "That's a one way trip."

 

"We all make it sooner or later," Hamar replied, accepting of the situation as his eyes began to tear up. "Son, don't deny me this. Please."

 

Karel slowly started removing his helmet. This must be just another one of his nightmares. At any moment he would wake up and his father would be there waiting for him. He just had to wake up.

 

Except that it wasn't a dream, and Karel looked at his father with his own eyes, not through the HUD of his helmet. For the first time since childhood, tears sprung from his eyes as he rushed to his father and hugged him tightly, as if the moment he released him his fate would be sealed. At this moment he was not a warrior, just a scared boy that hid within an armor from the dangers of the galaxy.

 

Hamar gently pulled him back after a moment, aware that they didn't have long before the frigate they were aboard reached its target. Without a word he took his axe from his belt and held it for Karel. The younger Mandalorian looked at his father once more, who nodded his approval. With great reverence Karel took the axe and secured it to his belt. Hamar offered him his helmet as well, and Karel took it with his left hand as he wiped his tears away with the other one. Finally, Hamar removed his kar'ta and gave it to his son. It was painted green with a grey rectangular core, and Karel took it with his right hand, shaking as he did so.

 

Karel clutched the kar'ta to his chest and put his helmet back on. They walked slowly towards the hangar's magnetic shield, Hamar laying a comforting hand on Karel's shoulder. Once they reached the edge of the hangar, the two Mandalorians faced each other and grabbed each other's right hand. Father and son hugged for the last time before Hamar lifted Karel off the ground and said his final words to his son.

 

"Make this count."

 

Hamar tossed Karel out of the hangar into space and he began floating away from the frigate, quickly disappearing from his father's sight as he gazed towards the looming blockade. At ease with his fate, and in the knowledge that his sacrifice would give his son a better chance of survival, Hamar walked back towards the shuttle. Working silently, he armed the bomb as the frigate was reaching the endpoint of its refueling track, below the dreadnought.

 

But before he detonated the bomb, he had one thing left to do. He reached into one of the pockets on his belt, holding his wife's beskar ring. He smiled sadly at it, and closed his fist around it.

 

"I'll see you soon, cyar'ika."

 

He activated the bomb and the frigate disappeared in an instant. The explosion expanded rapidly, swallowing the frigate and the entire Providence-class. As the blast reached the peak of its magnitude the kyber crystal, though small, absorbed most of its energy, temporarily storing it as the blast seemingly imploded into a blinding white light. Then, the kyber crystal released the amplified energy in a colorful cloud of vaporized fuel and baradium bisulfate. The second explosion was even more destructive than the first one as it expanded once more until it absorbed the two Recusant-class light destroyers that flanked the dreadnought, engulfing them in a deadly cloud of ionized gas as if they had been caught in the midst of a supernova.

 

Any ships that were not destroyed by the explosion were obliterated by the tremendous shockwave that followed, carrying with it large chunks of burning debris that crashed into the hulls of the other ships in the blockade. In their tight formation the critically damaged ships began crashing into one another, either getting torn apart by the planet's gravitational pull or left stranded in orbit above Gyndine as they formed a debris field.

 

**********

 

"General, we're coming out of hyperspace in the Gyndine system."

 

General Krintu turned to face Admiral Wurtz as the latter approached the Twi'lek Jedi. Both of them walked up the command walkway of the bridge as the ship exited hyperspace over Gyndine. Believing they were to reinforce General Odefi's depleted forces, the two of them were simply not prepared for what they saw as their cruiser exited hyperspace.

 

A debris field appeared in front of them and large pieces of it smashed against the hull of their ship, violently shaking the vessel as Admiral Wurtz ordered the shields to be raised. The rest of Carrier Battle Group 5 began exiting hyperspace and were likewise met by a wall of debris around the planet. In total, three Star Destroyers, two troop transports and three light cruisers were facing the debris field that blocked them from entering Gyndine's orbit. The crew of Krintu's cruiser braced themselves as more pieces of debris were crashing against the hull.

 

"By the Force..." Krintu whispered in astonishment as another piece of debris passed in front of them, bearing a half-destroyed insignia of the Confederacy.

 

Before they knew what to make out of this sight, a clone officer spoke up, "Admiral, our scanners have detected one life-form inside that debris field. It's faint, but it appears to be friendly, sir."

 

More questions were raised as those who could looked out of the bridge's viewports. Directly ahead of them, in the distance, was what appeared to be a humanoid floating in space, and as they approached the figure they could see it was a Mandalorian, holding onto some object with their left hand as they remained unmoving, seemingly unconscious or dead.

 

"I want a rescue team out there now!" Admiral Wurtz ordered, turning to a clone trooper.

 

"Yes, sir!" the trooper replied, and ran out of the bridge.

 

Wurtz returned his gaze to the viewports, and General Krintu asked out loud what everyone was thinking, "What happened here?"

 

**********

 

11 hours later

 

A shuttle flew through the skies of Coruscant, carrying a single soul in its troop compartment. The lone passenger sat in silence, hunched over as he held a grey and green Mandalorian helmet in his hands. He barely registered as the shuttle landed and he stood up slowly from his seat. The hatch in front of him opened, and his breath caught in his throat as he looked up from the helmet in his hands.

 

The hundred commandos of Fang Company stood at attention, perfectly still as if they were statues. They were lined up in four columns, two on each flank of the landed shuttle and leaving a path in the middle that separated the two groups of commandos as they faced each other. At the end of the path were the five troop commanders of the company, each one of them bearing the rank of captain. Regardless of rank, the commandos of Fang Company had gathered to honor their fallen leader, whom they respected greatly and some even saw as a father figure. Irrespective of the other colors of their armor, each and every one of them had painted a grey kar'ta on the middle of their chest plate, in the same place it would otherwise be in a suit of Mandalorian armor.

 

The sight reflected on the Master Chief's visor as he walked down the boarding hatch. As soon as he touched the ground the commandos moved in perfect unison, saluting the Master Chief. Karel forced himself to walk through the path they had laid out for him, overwhelmed by their response as he fought back tears. It took everything within him to drag his feet forward until he reached the troop commanders, and they moved out of his way so he was standing in front of the tall metal flagpole that stood on the northern end of the barrack's courtyard. The Republic crest flew at half-mast as Karel, in a grief-induced fit of rage, took his father's axe and buried it into the flagpole.

 

The young Mandalorian fell to his knees, mourning the death of his only family as he was now truly, in the deepest sense of the word, alone.

Chapter 10: Dossier 2: Belsak & Jansek Stronghold

Located on the edge of the portion of Mandalorian Space controlled by House Kryze, the Belsak system was of crucial importance to both sides during the Mandalorian Civil War, as it could serve as a staging area to launch attacks against enemy-held territory. Its closest neighboring system is the New Kleyman system, under the control of Clan Wren of House Vizsla, located 4.37 light-years away. Despite the different houses they belong to, Clan Jansek and Clan Wren have historically had good relations and have been close allies for much of their history. It was this alliance that initially forced Clan Jansek to side with the martial traditionalists before defecting to the New Mandalorians, effectively alienating them from their old allies.

Belsak is a young planet with an age of no more than one billion years, yet is remarkably geologically stable. Since its discovery and subsequent colonization by the Mandalorian Crusaders, the planet has remained largely untouched, with the Jansek Stronghold and the surrounding complex being the only significant settlement to ever exist in the planet. Belsak is a terrestrial world blanketed in ice and snow, possessing a cold climate and a Type I atmosphere. The planet's terrain is largely comprised of towering mountainous regions dotted with forests of tall veshok trees and large fjords.

Most of the flora and fauna of Belsak is not native to the planet, instead having been imported early on during the planet's colonization from Mandalore and other planets with the main objective of making the planet's wilderness more hostile but also to serve as possible sources of food and other resources. The most notable of these creatures are the vhe'viin, the galaar, the manka cat, the icetromper and the jakobeast. The vhe'viin is a species of small burrowing rodent that usually feeds on seeds, roots and insects it forages from the snowy forests, and is also the favorite prey of the galaar, a bird of prey of moderate size native to Mandalore.

A subspecies of galaar, simply known as the Belsak galaar, evolved to better cope with the conditions of the planet. It has broad rounded wings, a hooked beak, and yellow legs, and is very distinctive for its smooth pale gray plumage. The tail features are in a horizontal stripped pattern in a white gray white pattern with white at the tips of the tail feathers. The tail feathers have two white bands with one being wider than the other. The adults, both male and female, have a darker gray top side with a lighter gray and white underside.

A giant four-legged herd beast native to Gigor, the icetromper inhabits the valleys of the planet and was mainly hunted by manka cats, a feline species native to Alderaan, but due to their immense size it was near impossible for a single of these felines to take down an icetromper, leaving pack tactics as their only real option.

Another herd beast native to Gigor, the jakobeast was notable for its innate Force-sensitivity. The jakobeast is capable of generating massive Force pushes to repulse attackers. When attacked by predators, the herd would surround its young while the adult bulls turned outward to face the threat. Jakobeasts could aid one another in generating the Force Push, creating a massive wave of pressure capable of bowling over an entire forest. After being repeatedly hurled to the ground by an invisible force, all but the most determined predators would seek easier prey. Some members of Clan Jansek would hunt these herd beasts for their meat, milk, and fur, which would also serve as training against Force users.

 

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

 

Built long ago at the same time and in the same style as the Wren Stronghold in Krownest, Jansek Stronghold is almost identical both in purpose and aesthetic to its Wren counterpart, serving as the seat of power for the clan's leader. Like the stronghold on Krownest, it is a stunning complex built using steel and glass and surrounded by trees and mountains, and the stronghold blends elegantly into the surrounding environment, with most of the actual structure being buried deep under the snow. The large but minimalist stronghold is a testament to the adaptability and survival skills of its inhabitants, who have made their home among the surrounding treacherous mountains for millennia.

Entrance to the Jansek Stronghold was achieved via a flight of stairs on either end of the complex's lakeward face. Within, the stronghold housed long-range communication facilities, living quarters, an armory, a sparring room and an infirmary, among other amenities. The complex also featured an expansive great hall, furnished with a long dining table and a large throne for the clan leader, at the time Toruk. A portrait of the leader of Clan Jansek was displayed over the throne, though this portrait was destroyed during the attack carried out by Death Watch in 32 BBY, which also resulted in the near extinction of Clan Jansek.

Extensive renovations were carried out before, during and after the Mandalorian Civil War, most notable of which is a bunker built 100 meters underground and hidden in plain sight deep under the mountain behind the stronghold. At about the same size as a Marauder-class corvette, the bunker can provide long-term housing for up to 150 people, though if needed it can fit up to 300 people for a short period of time. The bunker has its own internal power generator, heating and cooling system, aeroponic gardens and water recycling facilities. After the end of the civil war most of this equipment was removed and the bunker was instead used as a safety vault, storing all of the clan's beskar and other valuable possessions. The blast doors alone weigh over 40 tons each and the walls are up to 8 meters thick and are made of duralloy-reinforced ferrocrete, with an extra coating of lead and neuranium for added shielding against radiation and scanners. It is estimated that the bunker can withstand the blast of a plasma bomb with an explosive yield of 100 megatons.

Another notable renovation to the stronghold is an underground hangar carved inside a mountain to the east of the main building. Two squadrons of CloakShape fighters would be stored here for use in patrolling the Belsak system, though these fighters were retired following the end of the civil war in 40 BBY. After that the hangar was most commonly used to house the Gray Hawk and Toruk's personal Aka'jor-class shuttle, named the Last Shadow, as well as the starships of any visitors such as Duchess Satine Kryze.

 

Chapter 11: Chapter 9: Reluctant Allies

Three months after the Battle of Geonosis, Republic Center for Military Operations, Coruscant, 0715 hours

 

"Chiru, there is something I wanted to discuss with you," Master Di said to the Pantoran at his side, his concern clear in his raspy voice.

 

The Nikto walked side-by-side with his former apprentice through the hallways of the cruiser staging area. He had chosen the Pantoran Initiate as his Padawan when she was only ten years old, by which time she had already shown to have an immense potential in the Force, particularly when it came to matters related to telepathy and telekinesis. Her skill in these abilities were well-above average for a Jedi of her age, rivaling those of a Jedi Knight.

 

For Master Di, it soon became clear he would have to take a unique approach when it came to her training. But rather than being concerned by this, Di was excited at the idea. He, like his friend the late Qui-Gon Jinn, was known for being rather unconventional when it came to his actions as a Jedi. While loyal to the Order, the Nikto Jedi was not comfortable with waiting for the Council to settle on a course of action, but instead preferred to act as the Force intended him to. Nevertheless, he was respected by all within the Jedi Order as a wise and brave Jedi Master, who was perhaps a bit unorthodox in his methods.

 

"What is it, Master?" the Pantoran asked, confused. Her golden eyes looked up to her former master, and her wavy lilac hair fell freely down her mid-back unto her traditional Jedi robes, draping over her tan tunic.

 

Ima-Gun looked down at the Pantoran, his gaze falling on her golden tattoos which consisted of two horizontal lines on each of her cheeks. Now, at sixteen years of age, Chiru Aturo was the youngest Jedi Knight of her generation, having ascended to the rank just a few days ago. To Di's relief and satisfaction, he seemed to have made the right choice.

 

"You always impressed me with how fast you advanced in your training, and I know I have no right to decide on matters that concern you now that you're a Jedi Knight, but I am concerned that your skills might do you more harm than good in the chaos of battle," he explained. His gaze fixed on the Venator-class Star Destroyer docked on a trench to their right, and the Pantoran could feel his emotions shift in the Force as he sighed. "These are turbulent times, Chiru. The galaxy hasn't seen war of this scale since the days of the Old Republic, and your ability to connect to other beings in the Force with ease could prove problematic."

 

The Pantoran smiled slightly at hearing her master's praise for her abilities, but looked down and frowned as he voiced his concerns. The two kept walking through the long hallways, and her gaze followed his as he watched a column of hexapedal vehicles walking into one of the cruisers' hangars. "I brought this matter to the Jedi Council and Master Fisto offered an unexpected solution."

 

"Unexpected even for you, Master?" Chiru asked sarcastically, trying to hide her own concerns behind her attempt at humor as they entered a turbolift that took them to one of the lower levels of the base.

 

Di chuckled at her comment, but gave no response and instead continued explaining the situation, "You will go on a mission with an operative he has worked with in the past. He believes this is the best choice, and while I am not familiar with this operative of his, I trust Master Fisto’s judgment."

 

The turbolift stopped and the doors opened, revealing a large hangar similar in size to that of the Jedi Temple. The hangar was an organized chaos as flight crews worked around the clock to maintain the starfighters and transports ready to depart at a moment's notice. In front of one of these transports stood a diminutive, elder Jedi with green skin and pointed ears.

 

"Master Yoda, what a pleasant surprise," the Nikto said, smiling as he and Chiru entered the hangar. When they reached the wise Master, the two of them bowed slightly as a sign of respect. The Grand Master returned the greeting, before turning to speak to the Jedi Knight.

 

"Aturo, on passing your Trials, congratulations. Much to learn, you still have, but within you, great potential there is," he said, his peculiar speech pattern known to everyone within the Order.

 

"Thank you, Master Yoda," she replied, smiling sincerely. Focusing on his presence, Master Yoda stood as a beacon of light to all the Jedi, outshining every other presence she could feel in the Force.

 

"Part of the army, you are now. Assigned to Special Operations, you have been," he informed her. The news of her assignment came as a shock to her, and he almost immediately added, "But worry not, young Aturo. Confident in you, your former master is."

 

Before the Jedi Knight could express her opinion on the matter a blast door on their left opened, and the three Jedi turned towards it. Master Yoda's presence in the Force distracted her from the two beings that appeared. One of them was a familiar presence and she immediately recognized who it belonged to, but the other one was unknown, markedly darker and in turmoil. Master Di and Chiru were shocked at what they saw, although Master Yoda remained unfazed.

 

Standing at the door was Master Fisto, and to his side was a Mandalorian warrior armored from head to toe in grey and green armor plates attached to a brown leather-like vest, beneath which he wore a grey flight suit. He stood about the same height as the clones, and had some sort of antenna extending from the right side of his helmet. On the forehead of his helmet were what seemed to be a pair of painted white avian eyes and on the cheeks were a pair of fangs of the same color. Wrapped around his waist was some sort of skirt, grey with green trimming, that reached just below his knees and which left the front section uncovered, and his shins were covered by a pair of grey greaves that also covered his knees.

 

Was he a prisoner? Master Di certainly thought so, but he discarded that theory once he saw the blasters on his hips, so he concluded the Mandalorian was here voluntarily, rather than as a prisoner. But what was a Mandalorian doing inside a Republic military base? Chiru asked herself this question in her mind, exchanging a quick look of confusion with her former master. Master Yoda for his part smiled as Master Fisto and the unknown Mandalorian walked up to them, and Master Fisto bowed respectfully.

 

"Master Fisto, late you are," the Grand Master said, jokingly admonishing the Nautolan.

 

"My apologies, Master Yoda," the Nautolan replied, then turned to address the other organics gathered. He smiled at them, then said, "Master Di, Jedi Aturo, it’s a pleasure to see you as well."

 

The two Jedi nodded politely, though Chiru looked nervously at the Mandalorian as he stood perfectly still, his hands clasped behind his back.

 

"I see alone, you are not. Introduce us, you should," said Master Yoda, looking up to meet the Mandalorian's gaze as he looked down at him.

 

"Of course," Fisto replied. "I would like you to meet Master Chief Jansek, from the 8th Commando Battalion of the Special Operations Brigade. Master Chief, these are Masters Yoda and Di, and Jedi Knight Aturo." The Nautolan pointed with an open hand at each of the two Jedi standing in front of them.

 

"Spoken highly of you, Master Fisto has. Grateful for your help, we are. A mission for you, we have, but alone, you will not be." The Mandalorian nodded sternly, and said nothing as Master Yoda turned to Chiru and pointed at her using his cane. "With her, you will go. Together, you will work."

 

Those words alarmed Chiru as she went into a mini panic for a split second. Whatever they were planning, she was definitely not going along with it. This was a Mandalorian she was being told to work with, the mortal enemy of the Jedi Order. What were they even thinking?

 

"Wait, I’m going with him? But he's a-," she began, before Master Di cleared his throat loudly and shot his former Padawan a stern look, which she recognized as his way to tell her to behave appropriately.

 

The Pantoran looked at the Nikto, who fixed his gaze at her. Although he was not her master anymore, the young Knight would never go against his wishes. Such was her trust in him that she looked down at the floor and sighed, reluctantly accepting the task.

 

"Yes, Masters," she mumbled in defeat, averting Di's gaze.

 

He sensed the inner turmoil in his former Padawan and placed his hand on her shoulder, then smiled reassuringly. This seemed to calm her down to some extent, and she looked up to meet his gaze.

 

Master Fisto stifled a smile as he watched the interaction play out, then explained her mission, "This mission will serve as an evaluation to determine if you are best suited for the Special Operations Brigade, rather than for front line combat. You will be heading to the Arantara system."

 

"Of great importance, your mission is. Depart at once, you must," Master Yoda instructed.

 

"May the Force be with you," Master Fisto said to the Master Chief, who nodded in return.

 

Chiru turned to face Master Di, who smiled once more at his former Padawan. The Pantoran smiled back, and through their bond in the Force the two Jedi bid each other farewell. The Mandalorian walked towards one of the shuttles landed inside the hangar, and she followed him in. The passenger bay was empty save for herself and the Mandalorian, and she took a seat on the right seat row, next to the boarding hatch. The Mandalorian, much to her displeasure, sat opposite of her, and they were left facing each other as the shuttle took off.

 

**********

 

4 hours later, Arantara system, Outer Rim Territories

 

After rendezvousing with a squad of clone commandos, the unlikely pair left Coruscant and headed for the Arantara system, where a costly battle was being fought between the Republic's clone troopers and the Separatists' battle droids. The shuttle soared through the clear skies of Arantara, and within its troop compartment was a rather strange sight.

 

At the middle of the troop bay was the squad of four clone commandos as they talked quietly among themselves. Chiru watched them from her seat at the front of the shuttle and noted how they all had a distinct presence in the Force, despite being all clones of the same man. Each one of them was as different as their armors, which were decorated with patterns of different colors to distinguish them from one another. However, they all shared one thing in common, and that was the grey diamond-shaped symbol they had painted in the middle of their chestplates, similar to the one in the armor of the warrior in front of her.

 

Chiru turned her attention back to the Mandalorian, and studied him intently once more. Now she was close enough to him she could see some of the smaller details of his armor, like the horizontal black stripe painted at the base of the grey armor plate on his left shoulder. His presence in the Force was unlike any she had sensed before, which intrigued her, and she closed her eyes as she turned her focus towards it. Somehow, it was easy for her to connect with the Mandalorian, yet at the same time more difficult, as if he were actively trying to stop her. But so far, she hadn't met one person that could resist her telepathic powers that wasn't a Jedi, and he clearly wasn't one. She knew some beings were able to resist the telepathic powers of the Jedi better than others, but she had never seen anything like this before. It was as if she were running through an open field, then suddenly hit an impenetrable wall of black stone.

 

"Focus on the mission," a deep voice said to her.

 

Chiru opened her eyes, and standing up in front of her was the Mandalorian as he looked down at her. She was so focused on trying to read his thoughts that she didn't think he would be able to reject her advances, let alone know what she was trying to do. But what surprised her the most about him was his voice, which she just heard for the first time. He sounded young, but she could hear something else in his voice, a maturity beyond his years.

 

Confused and embarrassed, the Pantoran didn't respond, and instead averted the Mandalorian's gaze as he turned away from her and walked towards the commandos. She shyly got up behind him, and the commandos stood up as they were approached by the Mandalorian, who spoke in a more urgent tone.

 

"Viper Squad, listen up." He raised his left gauntlet and activated his holoprojector, depicting a large facility in the rocky desert of Arantara. "We are heading towards a Mining Guild installation in the canyons on the northern hemisphere of the planet. By the end of the day that place must be rubble."

 

"I like where this is going," said one of the commandos with bright red markings.

 

One of his squadmates with blue markings quickly slapped him on the back of the head with an open hand and said, "Shut up, Hoc."

 

Hoc mumbled to himself and Chiru stifled a smile as she watched the clones, before remembering what they were here to do. Her gaze returned to the mercenary at her side as he continued with his briefing.

 

"General Skywalker and the 501st are giving the droids east of the facility a hell of a day. We'll use the battle as a distraction, land three klicks northwest of the installation and then continue our approach on foot. The Mining Guild mines the asteroid belt bordering this system and brings the extracted ore here to be processed into dedlanite, then it's sent to droid factories across the galaxy. Our first objective is the data located in the main computer inside the facility's control center. High Command needs that intel to find the location of other Separatist factories in the Outer Rim and destroy them. Once that is done we'll split up in pairs and set demolition charges throughout the complex. Andur, Hoc, you will head to the factory's power plant. Cale you got the furnace, take Verk with you. I'll take care of the delivery platforms."

 

"Yes, sir," the four clones replied when they heard their assigned objectives.

 

Confused, Chiru asked, "And what should I do?"

 

The squad of commandos and the Mandalorian turned to look at her as if they had forgotten about her presence. She nervously looked at them, unsure if she had spoken out of place. After a tense moment of silence, the mercenary met her gaze and spoke, "You're coming with me. Stay behind me and do exactly what I say, when I say it. Understood?"

 

She furrowed her brow, upset that she had been relegated to taking orders from a mercenary, but she had to admit it was the most logical decision to make. He was clearly more experienced in these types of missions, and the clones trusted him with their lives. Swallowing her pride, Chiru begrudgingly accepted she had to trust him with hers too and nodded stiffly.

 

"Sixty seconds," the pilot announced over the loudspeakers, drawing everyone's attention.

 

The clones checked their equipment one final time as the shuttle landed on Arantara's rocky soil. The boarding hatch opened and the hot air rushed inside the passenger bay as the commandos disembarked, led by the Master Chief, and the strike team began their march through the deserts of Arantara.

 

---

 

Chiru halted in her tracks, and the light breeze swept her purple hair as she looked to the east where a battle was being fought far away. Explosions appeared in the distance as the clone troopers charged the enemy forces. The massive hexapedal walkers she had seen before were now just tiny silhouettes in the distance and were surrounded by explosions as swarms of starfighters engaged each other in the skies above the battlefield. Affected by the pain and death she felt in the Force, the Pantoran asked out loud, "Shouldn't we help them?"

 

"They have their mission. We have ours," the Master Chief replied instantly with an unnerving coldness. Unfazed by the battle being fought nearby, he kept walking as they were close to their objective, his kama flapping in the wind.

 

Chiru's attention was drawn away from the battle as she once again focused on the Mandalorian in front of her. She didn't try to read his thoughts this time, as his reply led her to ask how any being could be so indifferent to the suffering of others. This was an extreme opposite of the teachings of the Jedi Order, and she couldn't help but get upset by his reply, maybe even angry.

 

"Everything alright?"

 

She turned to her left and saw one of the commandos with dark green markings as he looked down at her. She inhaled sharply at being caught off guard, something which rarely happened due to her augmented senses as a Force wielder.

 

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, uh," she replied quickly, unsure as to how to address the clone.

 

"Captain RC-7319," he said, standing to his full height. Despite being relatively tall for her age at 1.65 meters, the Pantoran had to lift her gaze to meet his own.

 

"We just call him Cale," Hoc added as he walked past them, towards the Master Chief.

 

Her gaze followed Hoc before fixing on the Mandalorian once more as he walked in front of her. His every move was swift and precise like those of a droid, and for a second Chiru entertained the idea of there being a droid beneath that armor instead of a sentient being. His distant attitude and silent persona was intriguing at best and concerning at worst, and she began to wonder why the clones trusted him so much.

 

"And what about him?"

 

"The Master Chief?" Cale asked incredulously, following her gaze.

 

"Why do you trust a mercenary?" she asked bluntly, emphasizing her disgust of the last word.

 

Cale stopped in his tracks, and sighed deeply as he turned to look at the Jedi Knight. His promotion to squad leader after Kai's death on Akiva was not something he liked to think about. It had been a hell for everyone, and he wasn't sure if the Jedi was ready to hear what had happened there. His hesitation only fueled Aturo's curiosity to learn more about the Mandalorian, and after glancing at him he met the Pantoran's gaze.

 

"The Chief will react to people in one of three ways. If you are an ally, he'll protect you. If you are a stranger, he studies you. But if you are a threat-"

 

"Hey!" the Master Chief called from a few meters ahead of them, clearly annoyed at them getting distracted. "Get a move on. We have a mission."

 

"Yes, sir!" Cale replied. He moved away from Chiru, and walked quickly to catch up with his squad.

 

The Jedi jogged up to him, and as they kept walking she asked nervously, "What does he do if you're a threat?"

 

The clone captain turned his head to look at her, and his voice lowered as he replied firmly, "He'll neutralize you."

 

A shiver ran through her spine as she stopped once more and saw the Mandalorian in a different light. He kneeled quietly at the edge of the canyon, and the squad of commandos kneeled around him as they observed their target. Chiru cautiously walked up to them and joined as she laid eyes on the facility.

 

At the bottom of the canyon stood the Mining Guild installation, flanked on the north and the south by the canyon. Far away to the east the battle was being fought between the clones and the droids, and to the west the canyon continued for miles on end. OG-9 spider droids and DSD1 dwarf spider droids were standing on the east side of the facility in front of and atop a defensive wall as they prepared for an attack in case their lines broke. As expected, squads of B1-series battle droids were patrolling the complex. The buildings were enormous and they would reveal the complex's location were it not for their position within canyon, which covered them from any prying eyes.

 

"Why do we always get the fun missions?" Verk asked sarcastically upon seeing the complex's defenses.

 

"This isn't even the fun part, rookie," Hoc said to the commando with brown armor markings. "Blowing it up is the fun part."

 

"Shut it, both of you," Cale ordered, before looking back at the complex as his HUD analyzed the nature of every structure present. He quickly located the building containing the furnace, which was on the opposite side of the complex. "I can't find the control center."

 

"Look closer," the Master Chief replied, and looked directly down from his position. A tower slightly taller than the other buildings stood right next to the canyon wall.

 

"How are we going to get there?" Aturo asked, leaning forward as she observed the roof of the command center some twenty meters below.

 

"Plan 26," the Mandalorian replied without looking at her.

 

"You heard him. Set your grappling hooks," Cale ordered, and the men did exactly as he said.

 

"What is Plan 26?" Chiru asked incredulously as they moved away from the edge of the canyon. The men attached their grappling hooks to the underside of their blaster rifles and fired them into the ground. The spikes embedded themselves deep into the rocky soil and the men pulled on them to ensure they were firmly in place.

 

"Rapid infiltration through improvised entry points to surprise an unsuspecting enemy," the mercenary explained in an even voice as he signaled for her to come closer. Once she did he looked at the liquid-cable launcher on her utility belt and said, "Plant your line here, you're coming with us. Wait until we clear the control center and don't panic."

 

"Jedi don't panic," she shot back. She glared daggers at him, taking offense at his comment before she complied reluctantly with his instructions.

 

The Master Chief didn't need the Force to know she was lying and ignored her reply. Instead he fired his own grappling hook from his right gauntlet, and now everyone was ready to abseil towards the tower.

 

The six lines were about two meters apart from each other with Karel and Chiru descending through the middle section, Andur and Verk on the right and Cale and Hoc on the left. Karel, Cale and Verk descended slowly but surely and Chiru breathed to calm herself as she began her own descent, unwilling to give the Mandalorian the pleasure of seeing her panic. She dreaded to look down as the wind swept her hair once more, and she instinctively tightened her grasp on the cable.

 

After what felt like an eternity for her they were now just a few meters away from the roof of the tower, although she still refused to look down. Karel's grey kama flapped in the air as he turned his head to the side, looking at Chiru.

 

"Viper Four, how many targets are inside?" Cale asked through the comms.

 

The ARF trooper-turned-commando and designated scout of the squad scanned the building with his portable scanner, then said, "Five droids and one organic."

 

"Must be the supervisor of the facility," Cale noted.

 

"Keep him alive. We'll breach on my mark," said Karel as he drew his left blaster pistol, and Cale and Verk drew their sidearms with the same hand. "One, two, three. Breach."

 

The three of them bent their legs and pushed themselves away from the face of the canyon at the same time and were left dangling in the air. As they began moving back to the canyon wall they extended their cables further so they were now facing the windows of the tower, and the three men fired repeatedly at the transparisteel windows to weaken them. They crashed through them nearly at the same time and once they were inside the control center they swiftly cut down the droids in the room. Its layout was similar to that of a Separatist capital ship, with the droids sitting in terminals around an organic supervisor's seat, who oversaw the foundry's operations. The supervisor, a middle-aged Gossam with green skin, cowered in fear and ran towards the turbolift at the back of the control center as the rest of the squad entered the tower, Chiru with them.

 

Karel fired a single shot from his blaster pistol in the direction of the Gossam, but he instead aimed it at the panel next to the turbolift. Sparks blew off the panel as the door to the turbolift closed shut, and the Gossam ran face first into it and fell to the floor.

 

Without skipping a beat, Karel holstered his blaster and ordered Viper Squad to their respective duties. Andur inserted a data spike into the computer terminal and sliced into the computer's memory banks, while Cale and Hoc secured the organic prisoner and Verk guarded the turbolift.

 

The Gossam screamed in fear of the two approaching commandos as they cornered him and held firmly against the wall while he begged for mercy.

 

"Have you found it?" Karel asked the commando as he approached him from behind.

 

"Negative. The encryption is more advanced than I had anticipated. Without the right access code it's gonna take me a while to bypass their defenses," the commando replied without looking at the Master Chief.

 

Unfazed by the news, the mercenary looked at the Gossam and walked intently towards him. He ordered the commandos to release the man, who fell to the floor and began crawling away from the Mandalorian.

 

"Give us the code," the Master Chief ordered as he and the two commandos loomed over the man.

 

"I-I don't know anything," the man replied, before his gaze met Chiru's and he immediately recognized her Jedi robes. "Please help me!"

 

She watched helplessly, unsure if she should intervene. She could feel the fear in the Gossam's voice and in the Force, and she felt powerless to help him as Karel continued with his interrogation.

 

The Mandalorian kneeled so he was now at eye level with the Gossam. His voice sounded friendlier, and Chiru couldn't tell if he was lying or not as he spoke, "Just give us what we want and we'll let you go."

 

"I..." the Gossam hesitated as he looked at the fangs in Karel's helmet. After considering the offer for a brief moment he swallowed harshly, then said, "Senth-Usk-Four-Onith-One-Six-Thesh"

 

"It worked," Andur said out loud as he gained access to the memory banks. He downloaded the information they needed into a datachip, and Karel stood up to his full height once more.

 

Karel turned away from the Gossam and nodded slightly at Cale as their gazes met. Cale nodded back, then looked at Hoc.

 

"C-Can I go?" the Gossam asked, fearful of the soldiers looming over him.

 

"This is for Geonosis."

 

Both commandos raised their blaster rifles and each of them fired two blue blaster bolts at the Gossam's chest before he could even beg to be spared, and the Jedi Knight gasped in horror as they executed the man without a second thought. The high-pitched sound of the blaster rifles ringed in her ears as her breath caught in her throat and tears began to well up in her eyes. The sudden end to the man's presence in the Force felt as if a flame had flickered off by a strong gust of wind. She looked in shock at the mercenary, who couldn't seem to care less about the terrible atrocity the soldiers under his command had just committed right in front of him.

 

Before she could protest their actions, the Master Chief ordered the commandos to their secondary objectives. The clones planted explosives in the control center and scrammed before any droid reinforcements appeared.

 

Chiru was left standing alone as everyone boarded the turbolift. Her gaze was fixed on the Gossam's body, his expression of fear and shock etched in her memory as darkness surrounded her in the Force.

 

"Get moving, Jedi," the Mandalorian called to her from inside the turbolift.

 

Distraught and in shock by what had happened, she walked past the Gossam's dead body and towards the turbolift, all the while averting the gaze of his executioners as she came to stand next to Mandalorian.

 

"You killed him," said the Jedi Knight, barely above a whisper as she shook in her boots.

 

"So?" he asked, not turning his gaze from the door in front of him.

 

His stoic attitude only helped to fuel her anger, and it took her every ounce of self-control she could muster to not crumble down or snap at him. The turbolift came to a halt at the base of the tower and the commandos exited in haste, then dispersed towards their objectives. The Master Chief walked calmly behind them as they dispersed towards their objectives. With a heavy heart and now unsure of the man she was supposed to trust with her life, Chiru kept her distance from him as she wiped away the tears in her eyes.

 

The Mandalorian warrior sneaked through the droid patrols with ease and the Pantoran Jedi followed him in silence, keeping her head down. After a few minutes the darkness she felt due to the Gossam's death started to fade away, but the sense of helplessness to stop his murder lingered as they hid behind a crate of ore, waiting for a droid patrol to pass them by.

 

"He didn't deserve to die," she whispered to the Master Chief, who half-turned to reply to her. The droids started walking away from them and just as the Master Chief was about to reply to her he received a transmission.

 

"Phoenix Two, this is Viper One. Viper Four and I have reached the furnace but there is a problem. There are civilians in here," Cale informed him through the comms.

 

"Our intel confirmed there are no civilians in this facility," the Master Chief countered.

 

"It didn't say anything about slaves."

 

From the shadows, Cale and Verk watched as a group of Ugnaught slaves operated the massive furnace, pouring the molten dedlanite into molds to be made into ingots and sent to weapons factories across the galaxy. The living conditions of the slaves were appalling as they had been chained to their work stations using shackles around their ankles and some of them had even been fitted with shock collars. In the scorching heat the shock collars and the shackles would burn their skin and would often cause infections, and to alleviate the pain the Ugnaughts would put pieces of cloth and leather between the metal and their exposed skin. Their gruesome situation was only exacerbated by the meager rations they were provided with once a day, and they toiled away until they died of exhaustion and starvation.

 

The young warrior didn't seem to react to this new development, and for a moment Aturo feared he might leave the slaves to die.

 

"Viper Two and Three, have you completed your objective?" he asked in the comms, and another clone replied.

 

"Yes, sir," Andur said just as Hoc placed the final charge on the side of the factory's main generator. "Awaiting further orders, sir."

 

"Change of plans. Andur and Hoc, destroy the delivery platforms and find a transport to evacuate the slaves. Cale, Verk, hold your positions, we're on our way. Stay out of sight until we get there," the Master Chief replied in an instant.

 

"Yes, sir," the four commandos replied to their orders.

 

Although they were near the delivery platforms, the Mandalorian turned the other way around and headed towards the furnace on the opposite side of the complex. Chiru followed him reluctantly once more, focusing on the suffering of the slaves. It grew with every step she took towards the building, and she almost didn't register how the Master Chief had instantly shifted his focus towards helping the slaves.

 

---

 

At last they reached the furnace and Chiru laid eyes on the group of about a dozen Ugnaught slaves forced to operate it. She stood under a walkway with the Master Chief as they watched the slaves in silence. Due to her heightened senses, the Pantoran could sense their emotions in the Force and her breath caught in her throat at what she felt. She felt the hunger they felt, and she had to convince herself that the burning metal pressing against her skin and the chain around her ankle were nothing more than a fidget of her imagination. Her powers in the Force were a curse sometimes, and she began to understand her master's opposition to her serving on the front lines.

 

"Still think we shouldn't have killed him?" the Mandalorian asked, referring to the Gossam supervisor.

 

Whether he was mocking her or not Chiru Aturo couldn't tell, but his question was seemingly enough to pull her out of her thoughts, although she was getting increasingly annoyed by the Mandalorian and his disrespect towards her. However, he did make a good point. As a Jedi Knight she would never be glad for a being's death, and she scolded herself for even considering what he said, but after seeing how the Gossam treated his fellow sentient beings she began to wonder if she should really feel bad for not helping him.

 

"We have to help them," she replied, ignoring his comment and her own dark thoughts, for which she would be severely scolded by her master if he were here.

 

"Not yet. We can't risk expose ourselves yet and we still don't know how we're getting them out of here." The Master Chief then activated his helmet's comlink and said, "Viper Two and Three, this is Phoenix Two. Have you secured a transport yet?"

 

On the delivery platforms stood a Sheathipede-class Type B shuttle guarded by two battle droids. They were destroyed simultaneously by two blue blaster bolts, one from each flank of the landing platform, and they hit the duracrete floor as two commandos emerged from concealed positions behind crates of dedlanite ingots.

 

"Yes, sir. We'll be in your location in no time."

 

"Good. Make it fast."

 

The Master Chief ended the call and turned his attention back to the slaves, and the Jedi Knight next to him. The Mandalorian glanced at the map in his HUD, which showed a friendly signal next to him and multiple enemy signatures. The foundry itself consisted of an enormous crucible where the refined dedlanite was melted down, all around of which were Ugnaughts operating the device using a complicated set of gears and levers.

 

The Mandalorian turned to the Jedi Knight and ordered, "Let's go. We need to find a better position."

 

They moved through the shadows with an unusual synchrony for two people who had only known each other for a few hours. The Master Chief led the way, moving from cover to cover to remain unseen.

 

As she sensed the suffering of the Ugnaughts once more, Chiru felt a sense of inadequacy. The duty of a Jedi Knight was to protect the innocent, not watch as they suffered. Guided by what the Force was telling her and not what the Mandalorian was, the Jedi Knight moved out of the shadows and dashed towards the nearest battle droid. Her crossguard lightsaber sprung to life and the blue blade sliced through the battle droid from behind in a single diagonal cut.

 

"A Jedi?!" one of the battle droids on the second floor of the building shouted in disbelief.

 

"Blast her!" another one ordered.

 

Before they had a chance to open fire on the Pantoran they were destroyed by Cale and Verk, who emerged from their hiding spots as they started sweeping the catwalks over the furnace. Back on the ground the Ugnaughts kept their heads down as the battle droids fired indiscriminately at the Jedi, and one by one she cut them down in a blur of blue light. A red blaster bolt fired at her was deflected harmlessly before she destroyed the battle droid who fired it. Within seconds the fight was over as the Pantoran called on the Force to lift the last two remaining battle droids in the air, then smashed them against a nearby wall.

 

The Ugnaughts grunted in celebration as the Jedi Knight and the two commandos approached them, the former with a smile on her face as she started cutting the chains binding them to their stations while the commandos removed the shock collars. The Ugnaughts cheered for their liberator as they gathered around her and she spoke in a soothing voice as they thanked her for freeing them.

 

A single shot was heard from behind the Jedi Knight and the commandos immediately turned to its source and raised their weapons, as did the Jedi Knight. In front of them stood the Master Chief, a blaster pistol in his right hand. The Pantoran and the clones followed the direction of the smoking barrel and found another battle droid standing at the door with a hole in its torso. The battle droid collapsed to the ground, and the Mandalorian turned his head and glared at the Jedi as he holstered his weapon.

 

"What were you thinking?" he asked, infuriated by her actions as he strode towards her.

 

Her courage left her and a shiver ran down her spine as she heard his voice through his helmet's speakers. Her gaze focused on the fangs on his helmet as he came closer to her, and the clones behind her instinctively stood at attention.

 

"I was just trying to he-"

 

"I told you to stay behind me. What were you thinking? That you were going to become a hero? Heroes get killed!"

 

Before she could even try to defend her actions, the Mandalorian turned his attention to the two commandos standing behind her. Despite being the best of the best the GAR had to offer the two of them stood perfectly still, the memory of their training sergeant reprimanding them on Kamino resurfacing as the Master Chief did the same. "And you two, why did you open fire without orders?"

 

"Sir, the General was in-" Verk began, before the Mandalorian cut him off.

 

"She isn't a General, trooper," the Master Chief shot back, furious at his men. His stoicism was lost as he gave his men and the Jedi a dressing down, all the while the Ugnaughts exchanged nervous glances between themselves, fearful of the Mandalorian.

 

For the Jedi Knight this was too much, and his every word made her blood boil in her veins. She tried her best to remain calm as a Jedi should do, but instead she clenched her fists in rage. She wasn't going to apologize for doing the right thing, whether she had a plan or not. She was a Knight of the Jedi Order and she expected to be treated as such, not as a youngling who didn't know better. Why should she even care about what a Mandalorian thought of her? What did he know about doing the right thing? He was a mercenary, the worst the galaxy had to offer. Scum like him were barely worth the time of the Jedi.

 

Before she could tell him those things herself, an alarm shrieked through the foundry. A large door on her right opened, and from it emerged rows upon rows of battle droids. They immediately opened fire on the organics inside, and all of them reacted differently. The commandos and the Mandalorian drew their weapons in a flash and fired back at the battle droids while the Ugnaughts scrambled for cover. The Jedi Knight reached for her lightsaber, but just as she was about to activate it she felt someone hold her from her arm and pull her back. She glanced to her side as the Mandalorian pulled her behind a crate, then he took cover next to her.

 

As blaster bolts zipped above their heads the Mandalorian said, "Leave it to a Jedi to screw things up."

 

He then emerged from cover and fired repeatedly at the battle droids. His aim was true, and most of his shots found their targets before he had to take cover again.

 

"Viper Two, we need that evac now!" Cale shouted as he tossed a grenade at the battle droids. An EMP pulse emerged from it and four battle droids fell to the floor, their circuits fried by the device.

 

"On our way!" Andur replied. Over the sounds of blaster fire the commandos could hear the shuttle fly overhead and land behind them. A few seconds later the door behind them swung open. Hoc dashed inside the building and stood in full view of the battle droids as he held his DC-17m in a similar fashion to how one would hold a Z-6. The power pack clip in the side of his blaster was absent, and instead he had connected the weapon to a cable leading to his backpack, inside of which he had multiple power packs connected together as an improvised, unauthorized modification to his standard-issue blaster.

 

"Eat laser, clankers!"

 

As Hoc opened fire on the battle droids in front of him, the Mandalorian ordered Cale and Verk to escort the Ugnaughts to the shuttle. Both of them waved at the former slaves to follow them, and the porcine humanoids squealed as the clones led them towards freedom and aboard the shuttle's passenger hold. The Master Chief and the Jedi Knight stood up to follow them as they heard a grunt coming from the area between the two opposing forces. The Pantoran turned to see a young Ugnaught cowering in fear inside a crate of ingots as he had been caught in the crossfire between Hoc and the battle droids.

 

Aturo turned back to look at the Master Chief, and the look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

 

"Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth as he changed the power packs of his own blasters. Heartless as she may think he is, he doesn't leave anyone behind. "Now!"

 

The Pantoran ran towards the helpless Ugnaught and her blue lightsaber activated once more. The Mandalorian was by her side and he opened fire at the battle droids with his WESTAR-35 pistols. Soon they reached the trapped Ugnaught and the Master Chief lifted the lid off the crate with one hand as he kept firing at the battle droids with the other one. The Jedi Knight helped the Uglett out of the crate and held him close to her chest with her left hand and her right hand held her activated lightsaber. The Mandalorian, meanwhile, was firing repeatedly at the enemy, the green bolts of his weapon joining those of Hoc's blaster as they struck the incoming battle droids.

 

Credit it to a miracle of the Force or immense luck, but the three of them were unharmed as they reached Hoc, behind whom stood the Uglett's mother. Aturo lowered the young Ugnaught to the ground and he scrambled towards his mother. The two embraced, then ran to board the shuttle which was to take them to their freedom.

 

As a battle droid prepared to throw a detonator at them it was hit by a blue blaster bolt. The explosive flew through the air and struck the roof of the foundry. The weakened structure could no longer support the weight of the large crucible it held and the enormous container broke free of its mountings. Liquid metal poured from the falling crucible, immediately melting the battle droids it landed upon. But as if it had a conscience of its own, the wave of molten dedlanite now shifted towards the Pantoran and the Mandalorian, splashing violently against the ground as it approached them.

 

Karel instinctively turned and fired the repulsor in his gauntlet towards Hoc and Aturo. The clone and the Jedi were sent flying through the door and towards the shuttle. As they got up the Mandalorian turned to face the incoming wave of molten metal. It loomed in front of him and reflected on his dark visor as he believed he might finally join his ancestors in death, but fate had other plans for him.

 

Calling on the Force, Aturo let it guide her actions as the Master Chief looked away from her. She reached out towards him, and the Mandalorian was pulled violently towards her and out of the building. The door sealed shut just after he crossed the threshold. The wave of molten dedlanite struck the door as the Mandalorian crashed against the Jedi Knight, and they both fell hard on the duracrete floor as the door to the facility melted down in an instant.

 

Aturo groaned in pain as the Master Chief got up, taking a knee next to her as she sat up.

 

"Are you hurt?" he asked her with an even voice.

 

She rubbed her neck, then after a moment she looked at him and said, "I'm fine."

 

The Mandalorian nodded stiffly and got on his feet. He stood silently for a few moments, and Chiru looked up at him as he turned his gaze to look at the foundry. The dedlanite and the durasteel had mixed together and the Master Chief stared upon the two metals as they cooled down into a dark grey mass.

 

After a moment his gaze returned to the shuttle and he realized there was no space for them, so he ordered the commandos to take the slaves to safety. Cale and Hoc nodded at the Master Chief, then boarded the shuttle. The boarding door closed behind them and the shuttle lifted into the air as the Jedi got on her feet. The kilt-like accessory hanging from the Master Chief's belt flapped in the wind as the exhaust from the shuttle's engines was directed towards him, but he stood perfectly still as the transport took off. His gaze followed the starship as it gained altitude, then he opened a communications channel to one of the Republic cruisers in orbit.

 

"Redeemer, this is Phoenix Two. Send a transport to my location immediately."

 

"Copy, Phoenix Two. Evac is on its way," a clone replied.

 

The Mandalorian ended the transmission and raised his left gauntlet. A hologram projected from the device and the three Jedi Masters it depicted looked at the Master Chief, his visor betraying no emotions.

 

"Greetings," said Master Yoda with a smile as he stood in front of the two taller Jedi Masters. "Relieved we are, to see you are unharmed."

 

"Master Chief, have you completed your mission?" General Fisto asked the Mandalorian, aware of his recent tendency to skip introductions and making conversations as short as possible.

 

"Yes, General. We have the location of at least a dozen more Separatist installations," the Master Chief replied, then glanced behind himself to look at Chiru. "But she disobeyed my orders, compromised the mission and could have gotten us all killed. Not to mention she endangered civilians."

 

The Pantoran looked utterly dejected as she stood a couple of meters behind the Mandalorian, hugging her sides as she looked down at her boots. Master Di furrowed his brow as he caught sight of his former Padawan, and concern began to grow in his mind as he sensed her disappointment in herself. With each passing second her feelings of inadequacy and shame grew as she realized she had all but ignored her master's instructions to work with the Mandalorian, not subvert his authority at the first chance she got. Master Di was as patient of a master as she could have hoped for, but to let him down in such a way in her first mission as a Jedi Knight was unforgivable. Fortunately none of the Ugnaughts were harmed, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to ever forgive herself if things had gone any different.

 

"I see," Master Fisto replied, clearly not expecting this new development.

 

Master Yoda hummed to himself and shook his head, then said, "Apologize for this, we do. Wrong, we were."

 

"The Council will decide on the next course of action regarding her duties to-"

 

"Wait," the Master Chief cut him off. He looked back at the Jedi Knight once more and sighed deeply. He wasn't sure why he did it, but he begrudgingly admitted he was being too harsh on her. There was something familiar about her, an innocence he himself had lost a long time ago.

 

Maybe it was because she reminded him of himself when he was a few years younger, but he swallowed his pride as he turned back to address the three Jedi Masters and spoke firmly.

 

"She might have screwed up... but she also saved my life." Chiru looked dumbfounded at the Master Chief, and her master's focus turned back to the Mandalorian as he almost immediately added in a more serious tone. "But she's still not ready. She can stay, but I will keep command of the battalion and supervise her training. No regular Jedi would fit in my battalion but with the right training, and patience, she might just make it through."

 

Chiru watched as Master Yoda turned back to look at Master Fisto and Di, the latter of whom looked clearly reluctant to accept the Mandalorian's proposal, as it essentially meant giving him control over the actions of his former Padawan. After an exchange of looks between the three Masters they nodded at each other before Master Yoda looked behind the Master Chief and asked her, "Aturo. Agree with this, do you?"

 

The Pantoran's gaze met the Mandalorian's behind his visor, and finally Chiru could sense his emotions for a split second as she saw herself running through the same open field as before, but now she could see a small crack in the black stone of the wall in front of her. An odd sense of sympathy for the Mandalorian arose from her and she met Master Di's gaze.

 

"Yes, masters," she replied with a smile, then nodded to the three of them as Master Di visibly relaxed. He wasn't sure this was the right choice, but he had to trust his former apprentice.

 

"Decided it is then," said Master Yoda with a smile. "May the Force be with you."

 

The three Jedi nodded once more at the Mandalorian. He nodded back and ended the transmission just as a gunship appeared from the south side of the canyon, then dived down towards their location and hovered over the ground. The Mandalorian began walking towards the transport as its side door slid open.

 

"Get moving or I'm leaving you here, Jedi!" he called to the Pantoran from a distance. Unsure of how to feel about her new assignment, the young Jedi Knight ran towards the Master Chief and caught up to him. They both boarded the gunship, then held onto the handles hanging from the ceiling of the passenger bay as the vehicle took off once more.

 

Aturo's gaze met the horizontal section of the Mandalorian's gaze, her lilac hair waving freely in the air. The mercenary slowly turned his head to the side and massive explosions appeared throughout the complex. The Pantoran followed his gaze, then looked back at the Mandalorian once more. The Force was telling her many things at this moment, like voices talking over one another. Whether she had made the right decision or not, she couldn't tell. But the Force was her ally, and a wise ally it was.

 

---

 

4 hours later, Fang Company Barracks, Coruscant, 1138 hours

 

"I'll make this clear, Jedi," said the Master Chief as he walked through the courtyard of the company barracks towards the command center. "You're stepping into some shoes I'd rather leave unfilled, so don't expect a warm welcome from anyone."

 

Aturo walked by his side, looking all around her. The company barracks were built in the new brutalist architecture that was starting to emerge in Coruscant. It was a hardened, rectangular building hundreds of meters long and about half as wide, with nearly no windows or visible weaknesses. On each of the shorter east and west sides of the building was a large landing bay capable of holding up to five shuttles or a larger number of LAAT/i gunships. On each corner of the building's roof was a DBY-827 heavy turbolaser turret, and multiple smaller point-defense laser cannons lined the length of the building. At its center was a large courtyard that could also be used as an improvised landing zone. On the northern end of the courtyard stood a tall, metallic flagpole from which flew a red banner with the Republic crest in white at the center.

 

The unlikely pair walked past the flagpole, and Aturo couldn't help but notice the small axe it had been struck with at its base. Distracted by this, she almost didn't notice the Mandalorian exit the courtyard and walk back into the building.

 

He turned to face a pair of metallic doors on the side and they opened once he pressed the button on the control panel. The Master Chief walked inside the room, which was filled with every model of blaster a clone trooper had been trained to use. The walls were covered with racks holding DC-15 series blaster rifles, DC-17 blaster pistols, and other more exotic weaponry like the DC-17m and Z-6. Though Chiru didn't know the model of any of these weapons, she recognized them as the standard-issue weapons of the clones. She made a face of slight disgust upon seeing these crude, uncivilized tools of war. Instead, she focused on the Mandalorian as he dragged a large chest towards her.

 

"Lesson number one: A good leader is in two places at once. In the front to lead his men, and behind them to always have their backs." He glanced at her and nodded at her tunic, then started opening the chest. "Ditch the robes. If you want the men to believe you belong here, you have to look like you belong here."

 

Aturo looked down at the arm of her outer tunic skeptically. The tan and brown clothing typical of the Jedi Order was the only one she had worn since she could remember, so if she was going to give up their comfort and familiarity she at least expected it to be for a good alternative.

 

She focused her attention back on the Mandalorian as he stood up and breathed deeply, as if preparing himself for something. Slowly his hands came up from his side and to his helmet, removing it from his head and tucking it under his left arm. Aturo’s breath caught in her throat as she laid eyes on the Mandalorian. She knew he was young by the sound of his voice, but she was utterly surprised upon finding out he was a human of almost the same age as her, with light skin and dark brown hair in a short crew cut. And yet for some reason he seemed to be more serious than even the strictest Master of the Jedi Order. His gaze met hers and she felt as if she had suddenly been sent to the icy surface of Ilum, sending a shiver down her spine and giving her a hint of just how much the Mandalorian had been through. His piercing hazel eyes fixed on her as he spoke slowly, his face betraying no emotions.

 

“These men will follow you because they were trained to follow you. But if you want them to follow you because they respect you, because they trust you, then you’ll have to earn that trust. Got it?”

 

His words almost went unheard by Chiru as she took a few seconds to process the sudden shift in the Force around her, confused as to how the mere presence of the Mandalorian had such an impact on her as if they were connected in some way. Unsure as to how to respond, Aturo simply nodded, her gaze never leaving his, and the Master Chief swiftly put his helmet back on before returning his attention to the chest at his feet.

 

**********

 

A door hissed open and Aturo walked through it to where the Master Chief was waiting for her. The Mandalorian turned to watch the Pantoran and remained unfazed, his arms crossed as the Jedi Knight approached him.

 

"It's... new," she replied, taking a moment to find an appropriate word to describe the armor she was wearing.

 

Using a few spare pieces of Katarn-class armor, the Master Chief had created a decently well-suited armor for the Pantoran. It did not provide the same amount of protection as a full set of armor like the ones he or the clones wore but it would do for the Jedi Knight, whose smaller frame required the larger pieces to be cut down to fit her size. A collar plate cut from a larger Katarn chestplate protected the base of her neck and her upper chest, ending just below her breasts. Her forearms were likewise armored with vambraces, but the lack of armor around her biceps and shoulders allowed her to bend her arms more easily and raise them over her head if she ever needed to, such as when blocking an incoming attack from above with her lightsaber. Last, her shins and knees were covered by a pair of greaves similar to the ones the Mandalorian wore. The white armor pieces matched the tan tunic she wore underneath, with the Jedi symbol painted in dark brown on the left side of the collar plate, over her heart. As a result, the armor gave her a good balance between protection and mobility, ideal for a Jedi Knight of her skills and fighting style.

 

"You'll get used to it," the Mandalorian replied dismissively, but secretly proud of his creation. A glimmer of happiness emerged from him for a split second, and Chiru stifled a smile as the Master Chief received a transmission. His visor moved to the side as he listened to it, then after a moment he nodded tightly to end the transmission. The horizontal section of his visor met her gaze as he spoke firmly, "We have a mission. Let's go."

 

The Master Chief walked out of the room without saying anything else, and the Jedi Knight followed him. The new set of armor, while not uncomfortable in and of itself, was unfamiliar and she found herself tucking the sleeves of her tunic under her vambraces as they walked together, drawing the attention of every clone they passed in the hallways of the base.

 

"So, how long have you been here?" Aturo asked, hoping to learn more about the nature of her assignment and the Mandalorian she would be working with.

 

"Long enough," was his reply. He entered a turbolift, then turned around to face the door as the Jedi followed him in.

 

She glanced at the Mandalorian to her side. His gaze remained fixed on the door in front of him, and Aturo still had no idea of what was going on in his mind. She spotted the central plate in his chest armor, a vertically elongated hexagon with a smaller one in the center, and remembered seeing the symbol in the clones' armors as well. Her master had taught her about multiple cultures during her training, although the information in the Jedi Archives about the Mandalorians was often contradicting in some aspects as a result of the several civil wars they have fought through their history.

 

"That symbol, I saw it on the clones. What does it mean?"

 

The Mandalorian remained silent as his visor lowered ever so slightly, and an uncomfortable silence emerged between them as the elevator came to a halt.

 

"That's classified."

 

The doors opened and Aturo once again tried to sense his feelings, only to be met by the same wall of black stone as before. It was clear to her that whatever emotions or memories the Mandalorian was trying to suppress, they were tearing him apart from the inside.

 

The Master Chief and the Jedi Knight once again walked through the hallways of the barracks, the former returning to his solemn demeanor as a large pair of doors opened in front of him. They entered the west hangar where, similar to the one where they had met before, ground crews worked around the clock to service the incoming transports.

 

"Republic Intelligence intercepted transmissions suggesting hostile activity in the Merrick sector. They want us to check it out."

 

"Shouldn't a clone team be able to handle this?" asked Chiru. The Master Chief took a turn to the right, walking precisely and deliberately as he approached the starship at the end of the hangar.

 

"A squad of commandos would draw too much attention. It's best if we go alone."

 

He stopped suddenly next to a saucer-shaped ship, the model of which Aturo recognized as a Lancer-class pursuit craft thanks to Master Di's lessons on starship design. It was fitting for the Mandalorian to have a ship produced by his people, and she observed every detail with great attention as she started walking around the hull, grazing her hand against the cold metal plating. The pairs of heavy and medium laser cannons protruding from the chin of the vessel served to discourage any possible attackers and punish those who were foolish enough to try. The sponsons at the side of the ship had been reinforced, as were the ordnance racks mounted on the underside of the fuselage. The engines were in pristine condition, with no carbon scoring visible inside of them. But although the hull seemed to be intact and structurally stable, it was not hard to spot the areas where the grey and green paint had been burnt or scratched. That, along with the tally painted next to the canopy, made it clear that this ship was no collector's item, but had a story of its own. It had seen its fair share of fighting and had kept its pilot safe from certain death. Likewise, one couldn't deny the devotion the ship's owner must have had to maintain it in such fine condition, yet still proudly displayed the scars of battles most would not have survived.

 

"I see I arrived at just the right time."

 

A familiar voice spoke from afar, and Aturo turned to see Master Di walk towards them with his hands behind his back. A clone trooper walked by his side, wearing a skirt similar to the one the Mandalorian was wearing and with rust-colored markings adorning his white armor. Aturo smiled at her former master and although the Nikto's phisiology didn't allow him to return the gesture, she could sense he was as happy to see her as she was.

 

"I see you have made some changes to your outfit," he said, noticing the armor plates she was wearing. Most Jedi were starting to wear pieces of clone armor as the war progressed and he himself was no exception, wearing a pair of white plastoid vambraces. "Though I hope you never have to rely on this armor."

 

"That's Katarn-class armor made from reinforced duraplast. She'll be fine," the Master Chief replied, defending his creation.

 

Di nodded at the Mandalorian’s comment about the armor. He was still not convinced about allowing his former Padawan to work with a Mandalorian, but at least he had provided her with the right equipment. Chiru's smile grew, as although the Jedi were supposed to keep their emotions in check she and her master had never been the most conventional members of the Order.

 

"General, the fleet is ready to depart for Ryloth. Admiral Dao is waiting for us, sir," the clone informed him.

 

"Ryloth?" Chiru asked, confused.

 

As a Jedi Knight she was given the rank of Jedi General once she officially joined the GAR and she should have been given a command, but an exception was made for her case as she was under the Mandalorian's supervision. So while she was the youngest Jedi Knight of her generation and now the youngest Jedi General in the GAR, she had instead been assigned as a liaison to the 8th Commando Battalion of the Special Operations Brigade until she was deemed ready to assume command, and was the only Jedi in the entire battalion.

 

"Thank you, Captain. The Confederacy has invaded Ryloth and I am being sent to reinforce the Outer Rim garrison." Di sighed deeply, lamenting the misfortune of Ryloth and the Twi'leks. It seemed as if no matter the conflict, their homeworld always suffered the consequences of war firsthand. He quickly shook those thoughts away, then looked at his former Padawan. "I was hoping you could hold on to this while I'm gone."

 

Master Di held a holocron in front of him with his right, scaly hand, which nearly enveloped the cubic device completely. The face of his former Padawan turned into one of pure shock and surprise, her lips slightly parted as she was left speechless. Like most Jedi holocrons, this one had a blue crystalline surface with bronze details and edges. Within it was all of Master Di's knowledge, and after a nod of approval from him Chiru took the holocron in her hands, holding it with great reverence.

 

"We have to go," said the Mandalorian, mildly annoyed by the delay this unexpected visit was causing.

 

Neither Jedi replied to his comment, but Master Di looked Chiru in the eye and said, "May the Force be with you, my former Padawan."

 

He bowed slightly at her, and the Pantoran returned the gesture with a smile. The boarding ramp at the back of the Gray Hawk lowered and Aturo entered first, still holding the holocron between her hands. The Master Chief followed her in, but as he was walking up the ramp Master Di spoke.

 

"Master Chief," he said, his voice gravelly and gruff. Jansek halted in his tracks and turned his head to look at the Nikto on the left. "Good luck."

 

His eyes said what his words did not, an unspoken request to the Mandalorian. Though the Mandalorian could have simply dismissed the Nikto, he took note of how much he cared for the Pantoran. A fellow Jedi would have seen this attachment as unacceptable, but to him it showed that perhaps the Jedi were not so emotionless as he might have thought.

 

Karel tipped his head, silently accepting the Jedi Master’s request. He turned his head back to the front and walked inside the ship. He sighed, but said nothing as he saw Aturo sitting in the co-pilot's chair and completely focused on the holocron in her hands, undisturbed by the arrival of the Master Chief, who instead sat on the pilot’s chair. The memory of the first time his father had taught him to fly a ship ran through his mind as his right hand grazed the instrument panel.

 

"Are you alright?" Aturo asked.

 

Her native Pantoran accent surfaced for a brief moment as she looked up from the holocron at the Mandalorian. Had he not let his guard down she wouldn't have even sensed his presence behind her, too occupied with her master's holocron, but for a moment she clearly felt his memories of his father and it had been enough to draw her attention to him once more.

 

Jansek said nothing as his head jerked up and his visor met her gaze, and in an instant his memories were safely behind a wall of stone. His gaze traveled back to the controls, and his gloved hands tightened their grip on the device.

 

"I'm fine."

 

Aturo didn’t need the Force to know he was lying, but before she could probe further the Gray Hawk lifted off the ground smoothly, its pilot familiar with how the starship handled. Her gaze returned to the viewport in front of her as the ship cut through Coruscant’s atmosphere. The stars turned to streaks and she smiled to herself as they entered hyperspace.

Chapter 12: Dossier 3: Chiru Aturo's lightsaber

Model: Crossgaurd lightsaber

Culture: Jedi Order

Creator: Chiru Aturo

Date created: 28 BBY

Hilt shape: Cylindrical, with a collapsible physical crossguard

Hilt length: 30.25 cm

Hilt material: Phrik-coated durasteel alloy and Kod'yok-leather grip

 

Constructed shortly after being taken in by Master Ima-Gun Di as his Padawan in 28 BBY, this lightsaber was purposefully designed to resemble swords of a more traditional design used by some species in the galaxy, which already makes it of a particularly odd design for its time. However, unlike most crossguard lightsabers that have smaller blades parallel to hilt, this lightsaber employs quillons of a physical construction similar to those used in the lightsaber of High Republic Jedi Master Stellan Gios. Indeed, the design of this weapon is meant to bridge the gap between the more richly-decorated lightsabers of the High Republic Era and the utilitarian design of those used during the last years of the Republic.

 

 

 

 

 

Simple in appearance, though not entirely bereft of decoration, the hilt is made from a single piece of durasteel and coated in phrik. Behind the emitter are three grooved rings, following the tradition of Padawans emulating the design of their Master's lightsaber in their own. Further behind these are the switch and crossguard, both of whom serve the always important function of preventing the user's hands from sliding across the weapon towards the blade. The crossguard is collapsed when not in use, then pushes out automatically once it is activated, and can also be used to catch the tip of an opponent's blade and move it away from a threatening position.

Just after the crossguard lies a metallic blue chevron that wraps around the entire hilt. The handle is made of Kod'yok-leather for a more comfortable and secure grip and is long enough to allow a single-handed or double-handed grip, depending on the situation. The pommel too serves a practical purpose as it not only allows for better control of the weapon, but its sectioned hexagonal design can also be used to strike an opponent in close-quarters combat. To secure the lightsaber to the Pantoran's belt, a magnetic adhesion plate is installed beneath the leather covering of the handle.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13: Dossier 4: Fang Company

Notes:

It took me forever to make this but it's finally finished. I don't really plan to use most of these characters as much more than background/secondary characters, but if there's a particular commando or squad you'd like to see let me know and I'll see what I can do. :)

Fang Company

 

Troop A	Troop B	Troop C	Troop D	Troop E
Aquila Squad RC-7734 “Jaig” RC-1951 “Kamen” RC-1453 “Gaul” RC-3006 “Sabot”	Horax Squad RC-6925 "Crecy” RC-1207 “Buck” RC-1314 “Tosa” RC-7540 “Pak”	Hydra Squad RC-7266 "Knox” RC-4332 “Hal” RC-3424 “Vex” RC-1829 “Tag”	Charon Squad RC-2235 "Henk” RC-1267 “Kel" RC-3539 “Ty” RC-2256 “Uric”	Aurek Squad RC-4747 "Husk” RC-3543 “Mig" RC-2847 “Ross” RC-2052 “Samos”
Banshee Squad RC-2948 “Rove” RC-3820 “Ash” RC-1538 “Cliff” RC-1225 “Spark”	Blixus Squad RC-2428 “Ajit” RC-6946 “Tem” RC-5473 “Hilo” RC-1353 “Yate”	Spectre Squad RC-1019 “Tat” RC-1376 “Evan” RC-1245 “Doc” RC-2349 “Bull”	Helot Squad RC-1917 “Haig” RC-1676 “Rein” RC-1758 ”Shade” RC-6517 “Mach”	Halberd Squad RC-3505 “Blix” RC-2222 “T'ad” RC-4633 ”Duntar” RC-1832 “Scat”
Condor Squad RC-1028 “Rus” RC-1382 “Ox” RC-1271 “Mach” RC-8284 “Forn”	Nebula Squad RC-1648 “Krig” RC-1915 “Bodi” RC-4318 “Axe” RC-3159 “Devon"	Tracyn Squad RC-2428 “Nurid” RC-6946 “Boic” RC-5473 “Dale” RC-1353 “Balin”	Krayt Squad RC-1349 “Dain” RC-2749 “Zek” RC-1972 “Jet” RC-1384 “Prax”	Kilo Squad RC-2357 “Hesh” RC-5452 “Ajax” RC-3058 “Grim” RC-4257 “Torch”
Gladius Squad RC-1109 “Varus” RC-5349 “Optio” RC-2545 “Draco” RC-1104 “Miles”	Onyx Squad RC-7601 “Nova” RC-1637 “Cov” RC-2004 “Dash” RC-5924 “Ter”	Viper Squad RC-7319 “Cale” RC-1348 “Andur” RC-1683 “Hoc” RC-7238 “Verk”	Rancor Squad RC-1943 “Dar” RC-2838 “Trent” RC-7351 “Elis” RC-3598 “Kurz”	Omicron Squad RC-3351 “Bev” RC-2819 “Carid” RC-2333 “Tracer” RC-2587 “Vevut”
Manka Squad RC-1259 “Jobren” RC-3266 “Par” RC-4239 “Rorlan" RC-5052 “Koliv”	Rapier Squad RC-6692 “Audie” RC-2513 “Eck” RC-1798 “Nile” RC-2510 “Lylek”	Wraith Squad RC-1295 “Brom” RC-2293 “Agar” RC-2991 “Kiner” RC-1942 “Spike”	Scythe Squad RC-4275 “Kosi” RC-1827 “Sikel” RC-2318 “Manu” RC-3462 “Van”	Panther Squad RC-4587 “Jeban” RC-7864 “Arad” RC-6638 “Rook” RC-2095 “Orin”

 

Batch 11-7 (69% casualty rate)

 

• CC-1004 “Gree" (41^st Elite Corps)
• CC-1010 “Fox” (Coruscant Guard)
• CC-1891 "Jaeger" (181^st Armor Division)
• CC-1971 “Jax” (9^th Engineering Battalion)
• CC-3011 “Crane” (184^th Attack Battalion)
• CC-5319 “Artek” (3^rd Legion)
• CC-6283 “Thorn” (Coruscant Guard)
• CC-7284 “Nast” (87^th Sentinel Corps)
• CC-8602 “Skog” (481^st Legion)

Chapter 14: Chapter 10: The Bloodclaw

Five months after the Battle of Geonosis, Ring of Kafrene, Thand sector

 

A robed figure walked silently through the crowded streetways of the trading post. The mysterious being kept their head low, their face hidden from view by their hood as they turned on an empty alley and reached a large warehouse. On the outside of the building and next to the door were a pair of thugs sitting on a crate as they played sabacc to pass the time. Both of them, a Sullustan and a Lutrillian, were equipped with heavy armor and had blaster pistols holstered on their hips, and they dropped their game and stood up in haste as the hooded being halted a couple of meters away from them. They were much shorter in height than the thugs, but any other physical characteristics were hidden from view by the robe they wore.

 

"Hey, you can't be here!" the Sullustan shouted, but the being in front of them stood unfazed

 

"You heard him. Get lost!" the Lutrillian added, scowling at the stranger.

 

The mysterious being remained motionless and gave no response, as if unaware of the thugs' orders. The two men frowned at each other in confusion, then after a moment they nodded and moved to apprehend the robed figure.

 

The Sullustan raised a hand to put on the stranger's shoulder but a blue hand grabbed his wrist. The stranger took a step back and turned before securing their hold on the thug's arm. He was sent somersaulting over the stranger before landing harshly on the cold metal floor, and an open-handed strike to the neck was the last thing he felt before losing consciousness.

 

The Lutrillian flinched as he saw his partner being handled like a rag doll by this robed stranger. It took him a moment to react, but he drew his DL-18 blaster pistol and took aim. The stranger sensed the Lutrillian aiming at them and dashed to the right, avoiding the red bolt which hit a wall in front of them. Their identity was revealed as they produced a blue lightsaber and cut the barrel of the blaster with a single ascending diagonal cut. The Jedi extended their hand at him and sent him flying through the air before hitting the durasteel door with a thud.

 

Chiru waved her hand at the closed door and it opened in front of her. She stepped over the Lutrillian's unconscious body and calmly walked inside the warehouse. Her lightsaber remained activated as she slowly made her way through the building. More guards rushed to stop her but she cut them down with ease. Her movements with her lightsaber were as graceful as they were deadly and she wielded her weapon with great skill coming from years of rigorous training and strict discipline. The blue blade flowed smoothly around her in a circular motion as two more mercenaries, both of them humans, fired at her and she deflected their shots back at them.

 

“Kill the Jedi!” a Rodian shouted from a catwalk above the Pantoran, but she ignored him.

 

Moments later a loud crack was heard and his body fell from the catwalk on to some stacked crates. More mercenaries started appearing and she dispatched most of them with ease, while a mysterious figure neutralized the rest with brutal efficiency.

 

After a few seconds Aturo found what she came for as she saw a Jablogian run away from her. Panic crossed his face as the Jedi Knight approached him, her robe still covering her physical features.

 

The Jablogian drew a DL-21 blaster in desperation, but Chiru called on the Force and pulled the weapon from his hand. As the pistol was flying towards her she sliced it cleanly in two with her lightsaber, both halves falling to the floor with a clatter.

 

As the criminal turned and ran for a backdoor, the Mandalorian dropped from the catwalks above, landing harshly on his right knee before rising slowly to his full height as he stood between the Jablogian and the door. Startled and fearing for his life, the criminal fell to the floor and crawled away from the two unusual allies, cornering himself against a crate.

 

The Jedi Knight and the Mandalorian looked at each other, their identities still concealed. The room fell into silence as they closed in on the terrified Jablogian. Chiru's blue lightsaber hummed softly in the dimly lit warehouse, casting an eerie glow on the scene.

 

"Who hired you?" Aturo asked with a stern voice, her eyes piercing through the darkness.

 

The Jablogian stammered, sweat beading on his forehead. "I... I can't tell you! They'll kill me!"

 

The Master Chief stepped forward, his Mandalorian armor gleaming under the faint light. His voice was low and dangerous as he addressed the trembling criminal. His gaze hardened behind his helmet as his gauntlet blade sprung forward. The glint of the blade caught the Jablogian’s attention, and fear washed over his face. “And what makes you think I won’t?”

 

Chiru raised an eyebrow behind her hood, her voice filled with authority. "This is your last chance. We cannot help you if you do not tell us what you know."

 

"I... alright, alright! I'll talk!" the Jablogian pleaded, his voice trembling.

 

Chiru deactivated her lightsaber and reached out with a calming presence, but her face was still hidden by her robe. "Good. Now, tell us who you are working for."

 

"The… The Bloodclaw Cartel. They paid half upfront and said they were looking to buy in bulk," the arms dealer replied, his face illuminated by the dim lights of the warehouse.

 

"What are they planning to do with all these weapons?” the Mandalorian demanded to know as he nodded to the crates around them.

 

“I don’t know. I swear I was just hired to get the weapons. They never told me anything!” The Jablogian hesitated, casting nervous glances around the dimly lit room. His breath came in shallow gasps as the Mandalorian moved closer to him and he finally spoke. “Wait! There are rumors… They are planning something. Something big!”

 

“Go on,” the Pantoran ordered him.

 

“The Bloodclaw… they have been crushing their opponents f-for years now! Anyone who stands in their way either ends up dead or missing. Word is that the Levaki Syndicate is their next target.”

 

“Who runs the Bloodclaw?” the Jedi asked.

 

“I-I can't tell you. And if they find out I talked they’ll have my head!”

 

The Master Chief took a step closer and raised his blade. The Jablogian, desperate to cling to whatever chance of survival he had left, immediately corrected his answer to satisfy his interrogators.

 

“Vol Yumpag! His name is Vol Yumpag! That’s all I know. I swear!”

 

“He’s telling the truth,” the Jedi Knight concluded, and Karel halted as he heard her voice.

 

In a moment of deliberation, the room returned to a tense silence. Chiru exchanged a knowing glance with Karel, silently conveying her decision. Enough blood had been shed.

 

The Mandalorian, with his blade still drawn, approached the Jablogian. His voice was firm and threatening, but not without a hint of mercy. “Leave. Before I change my mind."

 

The Jablogian, wide-eyed with both fear and gratitude, nodded vigorously, his voice shaking as he thanked them for their mercy. He stammered repeatedly as he supported himself on a nearby crate and got up, then started running away from them and to the door. But just as the door opened, Jansek drew his blaster and fired a stun round at the Jablogian. He tripped over the Lutrillian's body, then fell face first to the floor.

 

After Jansek fired the stun round, the Jablogian's body convulsed for a moment before going limp. Aturo removed her cloak from her head, turning to look at the Master Chief as he holstered his blaster.

 

“You do know I can make them just forget what happened here, don’t you?" Aturo asked sarcastically, unsurprised by his actions.

 

“Fear is just as good of an incentive to make him keep his mouth shut.” He analyzed the contents of the crates around him with his HUD, then moved to stand in front of one of them and removed the lid. He laid eyes on the Class-A thermal detonators inside and took one of the explosives, then programmed it to detonate some time later and placed it back inside the crate. “Word will spread fast about what happened here. Let’s get out of here before anyone else tries to get their hands on these weapons.”

 

“Race you to the ship? Loser has to write the report,” said the Pantoran with a smirk, her golden eyes falling on the Mandalorian.

 

“That’s already your job,” Karel replied as he turned to look at the Jedi Knight, who was acting as anything but one.

 

“Come on. If you’re so sure you’ll win then you have nothing to worry about.”

 

The Master Chief considered the offer silently for a moment. It was an obvious trap to get him to do the grunt’s work he had assigned her, and in any other circumstance he would have dismissed it. A couple of months ago he wouldn’t even have considered the idea of having "fun" during a mission. Now, however, small bets like this one were becoming a regular occurrence.

 

He nodded tightly, then rushed out of the warehouse before the Jedi could reach him. He leaped over the two unconscious bodies as his jetpack fired into action, propelling him through the air as the Jedi Knight jumped from rooftop to rooftop to catch up to him.

 

**********

 

A few hours later, Zero Eight Commando HQ, Coruscant

 

“You still owe me that report.”

 

Chiru looked up as she walked down the boarding ramp of the Gray Hawk, the Master Chief walking ahead of her.

 

“It wasn’t fair. You could fly,” she said as she touched down on the floor of the hangar.

 

“And you’re a Jedi. Use the Force or something,” he countered.

 

“That’s not how the Force works."

 

“Then don’t be a sore loser,” Karel deadpanned as he shrugged his shoulders and walked through a blast door and out of the hangar.

 

She rolled her eyes at his attempt at humor and moved to stand by his side, then shoved him playfully. A soft chuckle emerged from him and they fell into a similar walking pace with one another as a comfortable silence fell between them. The clones would salute them as they walked past them, and they acknowledged the greeting with a nod.

 

Looking back on their first encounter, Chiru couldn't help but smile at the Mandalorian. Even with him refusing to talk about his past every time she asked, she had steadily been gaining his trust to the point where he let small details slip here and then, like how it was his father who he inherited his ship from. His memories were still locked behind that black wall as before, but through the bond between them that was quickly growing stronger, she had slowly managed to weaken it.

 

"I hadn’t heard about the Bloodclaw Cartel before, have you?" Chiru asked, breaking the silence between them.

 

"I have, though I haven’t come across them myself." Karel stopped as they reached a turbolift. "When I was a kid, my father tracked down a bounty to Chaaktil. A spice dealer working for the Bloodclaw was cheating them out of their share and had gone underground, but my father found him and informed them of his location."

 

Upon hearing Karel mention his father, Chiru’s curiosity piqued as she sensed another chance to learn more about him and about Karel himself. The commandos always spoke highly of the man who trained them, with a reverence akin to that she had for Master Di, but they never shared many details about the Lieutenant Colonel with her. Karel certainly never shared his stories either, so she had to approach the matter carefully or else the Mandalorian would close himself to her once more.

 

Karel pressed the button to call the turbolift, and as they waited Chiru asked, “What happened to the spice dealer?”

 

“Well…” The turbolift arrived, and they stepped inside. Chiru pressed the button for the ground floor of the building as Karel turned to face the door and crossed his arms. "After the Bloodclaw caught up to him, they tied him to a speeder and drove through a sandstorm while a parasite was eating his internal organs. Somehow the guy was still alive after that, so they tied him to another speeder and-”

 

Chiru's eyes widened in disbelief as she listened to Karel's gruesome account of the Bloodclaw's methods. She couldn't help but feel a mixture of shock and curiosity at the Mandalorian's words. It was a stark reminder of the brutal and unforgiving nature of the criminal underworld they now found themselves entangled with.

 

"Wait, they... they did all that?" Chiru interrupted, her voice filled with a mix of horror and intrigue.

 

The turbolift began its ascent, and Chiru leaned against the wall, processing the information she had just learned. She knew crime syndicates could be ruthless, but such cruelty still troubled her. What surprised her even more was how casually the Mandalorian was describing the events, as if it were just a regular occurrence.

 

“Trust me, you don’t want to hear the rest of it,” said Karel as he removed his helmet. “The Bloodclaw was bound to a few star systems back then, but if what that sleemo said is true then we’re looking at a much bigger threat.”

 

As the turbolift ascended, a brief silence settled between them. Chiru could not yet sense Karel’s emotions very well yet, but she had been improving. Hoping to move the topic of the conversation away from the Bloodclaw Cartel’s brutality, she instead chose a more direct approach.

 

“Your father... What was he like?”

 

Perhaps that was too direct, Aturo thought to herself as the Master Chief’s features tightened briefly, his guarded nature resurfacing. She was relieved as Karel's gaze flickered towards her for a moment, his expression softening ever so slightly as a small smirk drew on his face.

 

“Buir was the best at his job. He trained them, and he trained me. Everything that everyone here knows is thanks to him.”

As the turbolift reached its destination and the doors opened, Karel led the way out, returning once again to his stoic nature. Chiru smiled softly as she caught a small glimpse at another one of Karel’s memories. She could see Karel’s hands working methodically to tie two ropes together from his own point of view, then he looked up at the helmeted head of his father as he analyzed his son’s work.

 

“Good work,” Hamar said, his voice echoing and distant before the vision stopped abruptly and she was brought back to the present.

 

She hurried once more to catch up with the Mandalorian as he was stopped by a clone trooper. Their conversation was lost on Chiru as the trooper handed him a datapad and the Master Chief signed the request for reinforcements for Zero Eight Commando’s Nexu Company. The Mandalorian handed him the datapad back and the clone trooper saluted at his two commanding officers before moving on.

 

Though Karel rarely spoke about his father, Chiru understood that his silence held its own significance. She instead chose to appreciate the trust he had placed in her thus far, recognizing that there were depths to him that she might never fully uncover.

 

“We have training to do, but why don’t you check the Jedi Archives later and see if you can find anything that could help us? I’ll talk to one of my contacts, maybe he knows something we don’t.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” she replied, smiling at the Mandalorian once again.

 

They entered a large training room with a circular combat arena at the center, around which seven commandos were waiting for them. The men greeted them with a nod, their blaster rifles in their hands. Another commando stood a bit away from the rest, a red cross painted on his left shoulder plate. Karel ordered Chiru to stand at the middle of the circle as he came to stand next to the medic.

 

“A battlefield is a chaotic place. Distractions will be present and you will have to filter them out and focus on the mission. For us there are no front lines, nowhere to retreat to when things go from bad to worse. We are often outnumbered and surrounded. If all goes to hell, which it will, you have to learn how to survive in such a situation.”

 

He spoke in a more stern, commanding voice than before, and the seven commandos in the circle raised their blaster rifles and took aim at Chiru as she quickly realized the purpose of this exercise. Her lightsaber sprung to life and she held the weapon close to her, breathing slowly to calm herself as she focused on the presence of the soldiers around her. The first commando fired a stun round at her from her left side and she turned to block it. No sooner had she turned away the soldier now behind her took his shot, then another, and another.

 

Karel’s right hand moved closer to his blaster pistol as he remembered a very important lesson from his father. Never let your guard down.

 

---

 

The following day, Jedi Archives, 1026 hours

 

In the vast expanse of the Jedi Archives, Chiru sat immersed in her research. Surrounded by stacks of data tapes and holobooks, she sought information about the elusive Bloodclaw Cartel. To her surprise, and disappointment, her search yielded sparse results. Scant fragments revealed that the Bloodclaw Cartel had emerged during the latter years of the High Republic. The following years of relative peace allowed the Cartel to grow in the shadows as it evaded the attention of the Judicial Forces and the Jedi Order alike, both of whom had grown complacent in the years before the Clone Wars. Yet, despite her persistent efforts, Chiru discovered no substantial records detailing their organizational structure, location of their headquarters or alliances with other criminal organizations. Adding to the mystery, the only mention she found of Vol Yumpag was in a report by the Republic Correctional Authority of a mass escape from the Coruscant Industrial Zone Detention Center, although that report was almost two centuries old. The mystery of the Bloodclaw Cartel only deepened, urging Chiru to spend the night scouring the Jedi Archives unraveling the mystery of the Bloodclaw.

“Well, I'm not sure what else could be expected of her,” Master Fisto said with a smirk as he saw the young Pantoran, her head resting on her crossed arms.

Exhaustion had taken its toll on her and she had fallen asleep in her seat and on top of the table’s computer terminal, while the stacks of data tapes and holobooks covered her from view of anyone who might have interrupted her.

“When searching for knowledge, one must remember to rest from time to time,” Master Nu noted, her expression a mix of amusement and sternness as she watched the sleeping Pantoran drool on the sleeve of her tunic and bite on strands of her disheveled purple hair.

“I will make sure to remind her. Thank you, Madame Jocasta.” The two Jedi Masters bowed at each other. The Chief Librarian walked away as the Nautolan approached Aturo, then rested his hand on her shoulder and shook her lightly.

“Rise and shine, young one,” he whispered to the Jedi Knight, who stirred in her sleep.

Chiru's eyes fluttered open, her gaze still groggy and unfocused. She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of her surroundings. As the presence of Master Fisto registered, a mixture of embarrassment and surprise washed over her face. She quickly straightened herself, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

"M-Master Fisto, I... I’m sorry," Chiru stammered, her voice laced with both weariness and sheepishness.

“It happens to the best of us. However, I do wonder what’s the reason behind this?” the Nautolan asked with a smile as he sat in the chair opposite Chiru’s and nodded to the stacks of holobooks.

A yawn escaped her as she stretched in her seat, her right arm sore from both the previous day’s exercise and her uncomfortable sleeping position.

“The Master Chief and I just raided an arms dealer on Kafrene who warned us about a turf war between two rival syndicates. I was supposed to find out more about them, but I guess I lost track of time.” She appeared hesitant to ask her next question, but her curiosity and lack of proper sleep got the best of her. “Master, if I may, how did you meet the Master Chief?"

The Nautolan relaxed in his seat and smiled, assuring the Pantoran that her curiosity was not out of place.

"In the aftermath of Geonosis, Akiva had been invaded and a droid factory was built in the catacombs beneath the capital city. My forces were ill-prepared to attack the city, but the Master Chief and his father aided us in scouting the capital’s defenses."

"So you met Colonel Jansek?" Aturo asked, and sleep left her as she heard once more about the revered Mandalorian.

"I did," said Master Fisto, remembering the chaos of that day. "It was thanks to his knowledge and expertise that our victory was swift. A high price was paid for Akiva's freedom, but without them it would have been higher. Much higher."

Aturo was now fully immersed in the story and she leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. She felt like a youngling as she heard the Jedi Master's praise for the Mandalorians.

“Tell me more about the Colonel."

The Nautolan stopped, his inviting demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristically somber attitude. Chiru could sense his conflicting emotions, but she restrained herself from using her Force powers to search his mind out of respect for Master Fisto. After a moment of silence he reached for a nearby datapad and inserted his personal code, then opened a file inaccessible for Aturo despite her security clearance as a Jedi General.

"This is all I can share with you. The rest of the story is not mine to tell."

The Pantoran hesitantly took the datapad in her hands and began reading the award citation for the man she had been told so much about. With each word, the legend of the Colonel grew. He was a hero in a time of need, and to those he inspired with his bravery he was nothing short of a god among men.

With the chain of command destroyed and Republic forces in disarray, Lieutenant Colonel Jansek took command of the remaining forces and managed to maintain order and discipline among his troops through his calm and efficient leadership. Against all odds and with allied reinforcements unaware of the Separatist blockade in Gyndine's orbit, he then led a desperate strike team in a daring plan to infiltrate the Separatist blockade and destroy the enemy fleet from the inside using an improvised explosive device. Although almost the entire strike team had been killed in action by this point and the device's timer had been damaged beyond repair, Lieutenant Colonel Jansek volunteered without hesitation to stay behind and manually activate the explosive charge, despite the full knowledge that doing so would result in certain death for himself. His sacrifice resulted in the complete destruction of the enemy blockade and ensured the recapture of the planet by Republic forces shortly thereafter, turning what could have been a crushing defeat into a decisive victory.

For his aforementioned actions during the battle of Gyndine, the High Command of the Grand Army of the Republic presents the Star of Coruscant combat medal to Lieutenant Colonel Hamar Jansek for bravery of the highest order in the presence of the enemy. Throughout the whole course of the battle, Lieutenant Colonel Jansek showed superb gallantry and fearless personal leadership, thereby maintaining morale high despite the circumstances. It is for these reasons that a posthumous promotion to the rank of Colonel has also been awarded in accordance with chapter IX, section II, article VI of the Regulation Manual on Promotion & Rank Advancement. His actions and tenacious devotion to duty in the face of certain death are the utmost example for the entirety of the Grand Army and are in keeping with the values of the Republic we give our lives to defend.

"An entire fleet?" Aturo asked in astonishment, her gaze lifting from the datapad to look at Master Fisto.

The Nautolan nodded solemnly, and Chiru now began to see the Mandalorians in a different light. She was a Knight of the Jedi Order, blessed by the Force with abilities only imaginable to most. But despite not receiving such a favor themselves, the Mandalorians had proven to be the greatest warriors the galaxy had ever seen. They had the determination to achieve their goals and the strength to defeat anyone who might oppose them. And when those two qualities were combined, they became an unstoppable force unlike anything else in the galaxy.

Her left vambrace chimed off, bringing her out of her thoughts as she read the time in the datapad screen.

“Kriff,” she muttered to herself as she got up and rushed out of the Archives as she was running late to meet with Karel in the battalion's headquarters.

“Watch your language,” the Jedi Master playfully scolded her, thinking she might be learning the wrong aspects of being a soldier.

“Sorry, Master,” she shouted back as she rushed out of the Temple Library. Her gaze returned to the hallway ahead of her and she just barely managed to dodge a group of younglings led by Master Velti. She quickly apologized to them, then ran off to meet the Master Chief.

 

**********

 

An hour later, Collective Commerce District, Coruscant

 

"Are you sure this is the right place?” Chiru asked, her disappointment evident in her voice as she surveyed the scene before her.

 

Standing on the run-down streets of CoCo Town, the rusted diner in front of her was brimming with life despite its dilapidated state. Customers constantly came into the establishment with a tired look on their face and a healthy appetite, and a few minutes later would leave with a full stomach and a smile. As the sun set on the horizon, a neon sign hanging by the door flickered to life, giving the diner a unique charm.

 

“What’s wrong with it?” Karel asked, standing next to her.

 

"I suppose I was expecting something more... private."

 

Karel shook his head at her comment and went inside the small establishment, with Chiru following him in.

 

“Trust me, we don’t need to worry about spies when dealing with Dex.”

 

As they stepped through the entrance, Chiru’s senses were overwhelmed with the unfamiliar scents and the loud conversations inside the establishment.

 

"Karel? Oh, it’s so good to see you, boy!" a deep, booming voice resonated from the bustling kitchen.

 

Chiru turned her attention to the source of the voice. Emerging from the kitchen was a stout and jovial Besalisk with a white apron tied around his waist and a shirt of the same color. But it was thanks to his grease-stained shirt and friendly attitude that Dex was one of a few people Karel trusted.

 

As Dex embraced Karel with his four arms, a genuine affection evident in the gesture, Chiru found herself smiling at the heartwarming scene. It was a rare sight to witness the Master Chief, usually reserved and stoic, opening up with such ease in the presence of an old friend.

 

“Dex, this is Chiru,” said the Mandalorian, motioning at her with his open hand. She nodded politely at the Besalisk and extended her hand, and he returned the greeting in kind. “She works with me in the army.”

 

Dex’s smile widened as he shook the Pantoran’s hand. His grip was firm, yet friendly, and she could feel the chaos of the diner turn into a lively and comforting place. Motioning for them to join him in a booth nestled near the kitchen, Dex's eyes twinkled with delight. Chiru slid into the seat facing the entrance, her eyes scanning the room, while Karel settled beside her.

 

“So, what can I do for you?” he asked, his tone a delightful mix of friendliness and anticipation.

 

“The Bloodclaw Cartel.” Karel removed his helmet, placing it on the table. “Ever heard of them?”

 

The grin on Dex's lips broadened, revealing a glimpse of his contagious enthusiasm. "Ah, the Bloodclaw. Elusive, slippery marauders. Crossed paths with them a few times back in my smuggling days."

 

“So you know them?” Chiru asked, puzzled by this new development. “I couldn’t find anything in the Jedi Archives.”

 

Her comment elicited a short laugh from Karel, and she looked up at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head. Dex too seemed amused, and he idly brushed the fingers of his upper right hand against his moustache.

 

“You Jedi should be more… thorough with your records.” Dex laughed to himself, a twinkle in his eyes as he leaned forward.

 

“And the underworld isn't exactly the friendliest place for a librarian,” Karel added. “There must be a place where we can pay them a visit. Any idea where that is?”

 

“Oh no, no headquarters. They have a mobile base… a fleet.”

 

“A fleet?”

 

“Yes, yes. A fleet. I heard they attacked a spice transport a few days ago outside of Hutt Space. I’d say about… twenty parsecs south of the Ballum system.“

 

“We got the name of their leader, Vol Yumpag,” the Master Chief informed. “Does that name ring a bell?”

 

Dex's lower hands drummed rhythmically on the table, a display of his thoughtful contemplation. One of his upper hands lay across his lap, while the other rested beneath his chin. After a brief pause, he shook his head, disappointment clouding Chiru's face.

 

“What about the Levaki Syndicate?” she asked, a spark of curiosity in her voice.

 

Dex's eyes glistened, his enthusiasm reignited. A playful smile danced on his lips as he responded, "Ah, now you're talking! The Levaki are involved with the Hutts. They manage their spice operations in the Doran system."

 

As Karel absently fiddled with the kar'ta on his chest, a pensive expression washed over his face, enveloping him in a shroud of darkness. Sensing his inner turmoil, Chiru placed a comforting hand on his arm. A warm smile spread across her lips, a beacon of solace amidst the shadows.

 

“Thanks, Dex,” said the Mandalorian, jamming his helmet on, “I think it's time we pay the Besadii a visit.”

 

As they stood up and bid their farewell to Dex, Chiru's vambrace chimed off. She stepped outside of the diner, and she was met by the chill air of the night as she moved to the side of the building.

 

Answering the transmission, a flickering blue hologram materialized before her, revealing the stern visage of Master Windu. His voice resonated with authority as he addressed the Pantoran.

 

"Aturo, what is the status of your investigation?" he asked, his tone cutting through any pleasantries, getting straight to the point.

 

"Greetings, Master Windu,” she began, meeting his gaze with respect. “We just learned that the Bloodclaw Cartel has a fleet from which they manage their operations, but we do not know its current location. As it turns out, the Levaki Syndicate has allied with one of the Hutt families. We are planning to meet with the Besadii and learn more about-

 

Master Windu interrupted her, his tone firm and decisive. "You will have to abandon your investigation. The Council has decided to focus the efforts of the Order in combating the threat of the Confederacy."

 

Chiru's brows furrowed in surprise, and she hesitated for a moment, processing the unexpected orders. She cleared her throat, steadying herself before she voiced her concerns. "But Master, is avoiding another conflict not the responsibility of the Order?”

 

“The decision of the Council is final. We have more pressing matters to attend to,” the Jedi Master replied, leaving no room for discussion. “Master Naitep is leading the campaign at Duvren and is in need of reinforcements. You must leave now if you are to aid her in her upcoming attack.”

 

Before she could even agree to the mission, Master Windu abruptly ended the call. Chiru was left standing alone in the middle of the street, oblivious to the sounds of the Coruscant nightlife around her. She looked down in defeat as the Master Chief came to stand a few meters away from her, having listened in on most of her brief conversation with Master Windu.

 

“He’s not as stupid as I thought,” he said, and the sound of his voice brought Chiru’s attention back to him. If there was one person in the Jedi Order he respected, General Windu was not that person, and he wasn’t afraid to make that clear.

 

“What?” She turned, confused, to face him as he stood with his arms crossed. Although she heard his backhanded insult for Master Windu, she didn't feel it was up to her to defend him.

 

“The Besadii are one of the five families that rule the Hutt Cartel. Now that the Hutts have allied with the Republic, the Republic doesn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize that alliance, and that includes investigating their other allies. Between the Separatists and the Hutts, the slugs are the lesser evil.”

 

Without saying anything else, the Mandalorian turned to walk back to the battalion headquarters where the Gray Hawk was already fueled and fully armed, ready to depart at a moment’s notice. Left alone with her thoughts, Chiru looked up at the stars. Doubt and frustration gnawed at her, and she understood now why Master Di preferred not to wait for the Council’s orders. Thinking of her Master helped her ground herself and she steeled her resolve. She reached out into the currents of the Force, looking for Ima-Gun as if she were walking blind through a dense fog, and the only thing to guide her was the steady beat of a drum. But even with their bond in the Force and her strong telepathic abilities, the massive distance between them made it difficult even for a Jedi of her skills.

 

---

 

Twenty one hours later

 

You look up as you hear two privates walk past you, keeping their heads down lest the clone snipers take a shot at them. You’ve been deployed to the front lines since the war broke out a few months ago, but it feels as if it’s been an eternity since you didn’t have to worry about your head getting blown off if you looked over the parapet. You already forgot what you wanted to do when you signed up to fight the Republic but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

 

You pull out an old rag and start cleaning your blaster rifle. For kriff’s sake no matter how much time you spend cleaning it every day, it’s never enough. Opposite of you is Garwa, one of your fellow soldiers but who still looks like a child in an adult’s uniform as he sits on an empty crate of rations. He is reading a copy of one of Dooku’s lectures at Reena University, and he pays no attention to you as you turn your attention back to your rifle. You don’t really care much for politics, the only reason you enlisted was because you didn’t feel like letting your home be ruled by some useless politician on Coruscant or by an order of space wizards armed with laser swords, but you don’t really see yourself as involved or even interested in the grand scheme of things.

 

“Not the power pack again,” you say to yourself, frustrated as you pull it from the chamber with great difficulty. The quartermaster said you would be issued new equipment weeks ago, but he has been awfully quiet since.

 

You curse to yourself once more as you look up. There are no stars tonight, nor had there been any for days, and at that moment you start thinking of your home once again. You wish you had a warm shower, a soft bed and a meal that wasn’t rations or rats you’ve caught in the trenches. You’ve already sent three requests to be given just a few weeks of leave, but they were all denied. Your captain said you’d at least be rotated to the rear soon but that was four days ago, maybe more. Life in the trenches is boring and monotonous and the days have blent into a blurry of cleaning your equipment, digging dugouts and sentry duty.

 

You shiver as the wind blows once more and you hurry to finish cleaning your rifle. Your uniform is too thin for the winter, but too thick for the summer. Your face and hands are covered in grime and mud, and your gloves are starting to tear. As you finish cleaning your weapon you remember something in your pocket and dig enthusiastically for it. Your excitement attracts Garwa’s attention and he lifts his gaze from his datapad.

 

“What’s with you?” he asks.

 

“Life Day came early this year,” you reply sarcastically.

 

Confusion is etched across Garwa’s face. It quickly transforms into surprise, and his eyes widen as you pull out the last of the chocolate bar your family sent you a month ago. You’ve been saving it for something special, like the aftermath of a battle or a promotion, but you figure today is as special a day as you would get in the trenches. You uncover a portion of the bar’s wrapping and extend it to Garwa, who looks surprised that you would share something as precious as your last chocolate. That thing is practically worth its weight in aurodium here in the trenches. “Just take it before the Captain gets here or he’ll take it for himself.”

 

Before Garwa can accept your offer, a massive explosion appears far to the left of your position on what is the right flank of your unit, illuminating the night for a moment. The shockwave makes the trenches vibrate, shaking you violently as you stuff the chocolate bar back inside your jacket. After the initial shock has passed you stand up in haste, picking up your rifle. Soldiers soon begin rushing out from dugouts all around you and towards the site of the explosion. You look at Garwa, who is as confused as you are as he stops a lieutenant to ask him what’s happening.

 

“We’re under attack! That was the ammo dump they hit!” the lieutenant replies as shots are being fired in the distance.

 

Despite the complete darkness of the night you begin running through the trenches laid out in a zigzag. As you get closer and closer, the sounds of battle grow louder and louder. The rumble of explosions and the high-pitched sound of blasters firing makes you shake in your boots, and the orders shouted carelessly in the air give you a hint of what is happening.

 

"Hold the line!"

 

"Stop them!"

 

“Kill the Jedi!” you hear someone shout, followed by a pain of agony coming from the same person.

 

Jedi? You’ve heard stories about them, and how they kidnap babies to turn them into warriors. But whoever these Jedi are, you’re sure they’re no match for an entire battalion of trained soldiers. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself as you reach the trenches that connect to the site of the fighting. At that moment you see a trio of your comrades being lifted meters high into the air only to fall violently back to the ground. One of them lands directly in front of you and you hear the sickening crunch of his neck fracturing as he lands head first on the ground. You meet his absent gaze, and tears begin forming in your eyes as you realize it is Garwa who has suffered such an unceremonious death right in front of your eyes. You drop to your knees, discarding your rifle as you take him by the shoulders and begin shaking him, his head moving loosely as you’re too horrified to think clearly.

 

As his lifeless gaze meets yours once more you feel a mixture of rage, grief and fear all in equal measure. Your ears are filled with the sounds of your comrades dying gruesome deaths just a few meters away from you, but you soldier on. With rage in your heart, you lay down Garwa on the ground. You take a moment to breathe as you prepare to face the Jedi. Your hands are shaking as you take your rifle and round the corner. As you raise your rifle you come face to face with the attackers, but you aren’t prepared for what you see.

 

The world seems to stop around you as you see a Mandalorian and a Jedi standing with their backs to one another at the center of a large pit in the trenches. With only a narrow section on the right and left flank of the pit acting as choke points to their position, the two of them are now annihilating your unit. They move with an unnatural fluidity, as if their bodies are connected and the movements of one of them are the reaction to those of the other one.

 

The Mandalorian is a terrifying opponent as he fires at your comrades as soon as they enter the battle and brutally kills those approaching to engage him in melee combat. It all happens so fast, but you see everything. One moment he is slashing your captain's throat, the next one he is using him as a living shield before he drops the lifeless body and it falls to the mud. A single blaster bolt hits him on the left shoulder and for a split second you think he might fall, but it is harmlessly deflected by his armor as he proceeds to launch his grappling hook at the attacker’s throat, then pulling him in and stabbing him in his left eye.

 

The Jedi is no easier target. Her movements are more precise and restrained, but still as deadly as those of her partner. Her blue skin contrasts with her golden eyes and tattoos and her lilac hair, the latter of which would be captivating if not for the smell of searing flesh that follows every cut and thrust of her weapon. The dim blue light of her weapon moves in a flurry, humming gently as she slays your comrades one after the other. Some of the men take aim at her with their blaster rifles and open fire in quick succession one after the other but mere moments after they fall themselves, with their attacks easily deflected by the Jedi’s laser sword. Corpses of your fellow soldiers surround the pair, a few of them even have severed limbs or gruesome wounds.

 

As you lift your gaze back to the pair, the Mandalorian produces a jet of fire from his left hand and turns in a circle, burning everything and everyone around him. The Jedi ducks just in time for him to burn the men in front of her before the two face the flank from which you came. You feel both of their gazes fall on you and you freeze in fear. The Jedi extends a blue hand towards you and the jet of fire is suddenly thrust towards you with great force. The flames fill your view and you feel their heat against your face, convinced it will be the last thing you will ever see. You pull away from the fire just enough to avoid its devastating effect, stumbling backwards and falling in the mud.

 

Your rifle falls beside you, your courage gone in an instant. You panic while you try to crawl away from the battle, filtering out the screams of your dying comrades. The smell of burning flesh makes you want to vomit but you force yourself not to as you find a small dugout and hide there, crying for your mother like a scared child while outside the screams of your fellow soldiers pierce through the night.

 

After a few moments you hear the sound of boots walking through the mud, slowly making their way through your trenches. Your breath stops as you see the Mandalorian appear, and your heart is pounding in your chest as he halts in front of your dugout and slowly turns his head towards you. You’re begging to the universe that the darkness of the night will be enough to protect you from a certain death at his hands. He stands there for a few seconds, and you are almost certain that his gaze has met yours behind his helmet. Then, you hear a low whisper amidst the chaos of battle.

 

“Go home.”

 

He turns back to face the trench ahead of him, and the single phrase repeats itself in your mind over and over. Moments later you see clones pass in front of you and you realize they have taken your position. You have to get out of here before you are totally surrounded. Forget about the war, you’re not planning on dying today.

 

You listen carefully for any signs of anyone outside and after a moment you peek your head to find only the corpses of your fellow soldiers lying on the mud and the vultures feasting on the carrion. You pick up your blaster rifle, just in case you might need it, then swallow hard as you climb out of the trenches. You start running away from the battlefield, away from the war, away from everything. Your legs carry you until you leave it all behind. After what feels like hours you finally reach a small forest. War has yet to leave its ugly scars upon these woods but you can’t say the same about yourself.

 

You sink to your knees and look down at your hands. You’re trembling, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You slowly lift your gaze. The sounds of battle will haunt you for the rest of your life and the sight of your dead friends is now burnt into your mind as you stare off into the distance, your gaze blank and unfocused. Wars come and go, but you have been marked by their curse.

 

---

 

Hyperspace had always granted Karel a certain comfort. Here, where the laws of space and time did not apply, the gentle hum of the hyperdrive reverberated through the metal walls as a comforting lullaby. A sense of tranquility washed over him as he sat at the pilot’s chair, while his gaze remained fixated on the blue tunnel ahead of him. In the brief interlude between battles, the confines of the Gray Hawk were one of a handful places where he felt comfortable enough to remove a part of his iron shell, and his helmet lay forgotten on the control panel. New battle marks merged with the old ones as the muddy trenches of Duvren became the latest part in the centuries-long story behind his armor.

 

Lost in the sight before him, a groan of frustration coming from the co-pilot’s cabin just behind the starboard escape pod caught him off guard, and he turned to its source as Chiru was meditating inside the small quarters. His feelings of relief and tranquility were gone as his thoughts drifted towards the Pantoran. Concerned, he walked to the small galley of the ship, leaving his helmet behind. 

 

He quietly reheated some donuts Dex gave him in the hypersonic oven as the automatic brewer made a cup of caf. Once ready, he took the snacks and stood in front of the cabin's door, hesitating for a moment before entering the nexu’s den. That nexu was sitting cross-legged on the floor, deep in meditation as she faced the door and with her eyes closed, while her master's holocron hovered before her. The door hissed open, and the artifact fell to the floor with a clatter. Chiru glared at Jansek as he stood unfazed at the doorway.

 

"At least knock before you-" she began, but stopped abruptly as their eyes met.

 

Used to seeing her reflection on his visor every time she looked at him, she forgot what she was about to say as his hazel eyes fixed at her, filled with concern for her well-being. Until now he only took his helmet off when they were in the battalion headquarters, and her heart skipped a beat as he knelt so they were at eye level and placed the food in front of her.

 

"You haven't left your quarters since we left Duvren, and you need to eat.” He slid the small meal closer to her, shifting to maintain his balance as he straightened his back. “But as much as I like having peace in my ship, you haven’t been the same since you spoke to General Windu.”

 

“I’m fine,” she responded, rolling her eyes.

 

She looked down at the peace offering he had brought her, and a small smile appeared on her face as she took a sip from the cup of caf. She noticed it was lytor caf, much better than the one included in the GAR rations, and prepared just the way she liked it. But Karel was as stubborn as she was, and he scoffed as the Pantoran ate her meal.

 

"Krayt spit,” he said bluntly. “Try again, and be honest this time.”

 

“It’s just…” she trailed off, averting his gaze. She was too exhausted to keep up appearances, and she felt she could trust the Mandalorian with her problems even if he didn’t open up as easily to her. Their bond only grew stronger with every mission, and after a moment of tense silence she whispered, “It’s not right.”

 

“What isn’t right?” he asked, firm but understanding as his gaze never left her.

 

“This! All of this!” she snapped, flailing her arms in the air. She hugged her legs, finding comfort in the gesture as she rested her chin on her knees. “How am I supposed to turn a blind eye to what the Hutts are doing? That’s not what my master taught me.”

 

Karel breathed deeply once more, having just received word of the destruction of Admiral Dao’s fleet over Ryloth, and that impenetrable barrier around his presence in the Force was raised once more as he looked down, avoiding the Pantoran’s gaze. Chiru took note of this and she bit her lip at his silence, sensing his hesitation to speak.

 

She furrowed her brow, looking down at her master's holocron. Concern grew inside her as the gravity of the situation began dawning on her, but she didn’t have more time to dwell on her thoughts as an alarm came from the cockpit.

 

Karel stood up and walked back to the cockpit, then sat at the controls and said, “Fuel is running low so we’ll have to make a quick stop."

 

She followed him and sat in the gunner's chair at the bow, which gave her a better view of the laser cannons. The Pantoran looked back at him and asked, “Where are we stopping?”

 

The answer to her question appeared in front of her as they exited hyperspace and she turned to face the transparisteel canopy. The blue tunnel turned into streaks, then to stars as a green planet appeared before her. Orbiting the planet was a single moon, an ecumenopolis like Coruscant, while a large ring adorned the planet’s equator. Regardless of, or perhaps because of their appearance, both celestial bodies emanated an aura of darkness and evil in the Force, which repulsed the Jedi Knight. Searching for answers, she turned to Karel as the Gray Hawk entered the atmosphere of the planet.

 

Now wearing his helmet, most of the Mandalorian’s emotions were concealed, but the mischievousness in his voice was clear as he flicked a pair of switches above him and said, “Nal Hutta. It’s the homeworld of the Hutts, and the seat of power of their criminal empire. While you were wallowing away and wasting your time, I decided to contact the Levaki Syndicate for answers. They shot me down the moment I mentioned the Bloodclaw, but we can just take the matter up with their masters and see what they have to say.”

 

"What happened to following orders?" she asked teasingly, slightly taken aback by what the Master Chief was doing.

 

“I don’t take orders from Jedi,” he replied firmly. She chuckled at his reply, annoyed that he got away with doing something he would have scolded her for severely if she did it.

 

He breathed once again as he considered what they were doing. Senator Amidala’s treaty explicitly forbade the Republic from interfering in the affairs of the Hutt clans, so they had to be careful lest they withdraw from the treaty and cut off supply lines by blocking access to their hyperlanes.

 

“Listen, I know my people aren’t known for being the good guys of history.” She scoffed at his comment, which he ignored. “But you’re dead wrong if you think I want a turf war with civilians caught in the crossfire. We have a chance to stop this war before it begins, and last I checked a monk playing general couldn’t tell me what I can and can't do."

 

As the ship cut through the upper atmosphere of Nal Hutta, Karel caught himself staring at Chiru, her gaze fixed on the viewport. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his head, Karel shook his head as she turned to face him with a smile on her lips.

 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, because you just kidnapped a Jedi,” she remarked with a laugh.

 

“Kidnapping implies you didn’t want to come,” he noted, and the playful banter between them helped to lighten up the mood. “Of course, I could just drop you off at the nearest Republic outpost, but we both know you want to be here.”

 

The Mandalorian patrol craft soared gracefully through the hazy skies of Nal Hutta, heading west as they flew just a few hundred meters over the swampy surface of the planet. Soon enough they reached the city of Bilbousa, and Chiru looked down to see a world of vice and corruption that was the physical embodiment of the Hutts’ criminal empire. It was a sprawling mess of squat buildings, and the streets were filled with petty criminals and other lowlifes in service to the Hutts. They were the law here, and the only ones above it. That had been the way of life on Nal Hutta, and indeed in most of Hutt Space, for thousands of years.

 

As they left the city behind, the landscape transitioned into a vast expanse of swamp, stretching as far as the eye could see. Amidst the natural desolation and harsh ecosystem, a formation of rugged rock spires rose majestically in the distance. Among these rocky formations, Chiru could see the distinct architecture of a Hutt palace, rising defiantly from the landscape. Three towers spiraled upwards, their light brown hues blending seamlessly with the surrounding rock, with two of them connected to each other by a single bridge and their design similar to that of other Hutt buildings on Teth and Tatooine. The detached tower appeared to be an observation post judging by its position somewhat away from the other two, of which one was larger in diameter than the other.

 

As the ship approached the palace, a hail came over the comms, the voice sounding wary and impatient as it spoke in Huttese. " Di es paakajidik di Besadii. Ah'chu apenkee? Hi chuba da naga? "

 

“Achuta. Mah pee kasa Karel Jansek. Bosco ma lorda Arok ,” the Mandalorian replied, fluently transitioning to speak in Huttese.

 

His reply appeared to satisfy the being on the other end of the transmission, and their tone shifted to one of cautious relief. “ Ah… chow baso. Be cotma. ”

 

The transmission ended, leaving Chiru intrigued by the exchange she couldn't understand. The ship's descent was smooth, and soon the Gray Hawk landed gracefully on a small clearing in front of the palace's main tower, the landing skids sinking slightly into the muddy ground. With its boarding ramp at the back of the ship, it was positioned facing away from the palace and ready for a quick getaway in case negotiations didn't go as planned.

 

The Mandalorian stood from his seat and walked to the boarding ramp at the aft, with the Pantoran by his side as he spoke out loud.

 

"Listen, I grew up surrounded by these people so I know how to deal with them. They are the worst scum in the galaxy, but they’ll stay out of our face if we stay out of theirs." As they entered the cargo hold of the ship its sentry mode activated, and a blaster cannon emerged from the underside of the hull to deter any curious guards. Jansek halted as they reached the boarding ramp and he turned to face the Jedi Knight. "You, on the other hand, are the last person they want to see. So while we’re there you’ll have to behave and do exactly what I say. That means don’t talk to anyone, don’t look at anyone, and don’t fight anyone. Got it?”

 

His orders elicited a huff of frustration from the Pantoran, but she acquiesced to his demands with a stiff nod. Now that they were on the same page, Karel turned back to the boarding ramp, but was stopped as she caught his arm. Immediately he tensed at the contact, but didn't try to release himself as they stood in silence for a few seconds, their gazes fixed at one another.

 

“I… thank you, for doing this,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say. But that was enough to convey her gratitude, and she suddenly realized the position she had put herself in. He titled his head in acknowledgment, and the tension between them disappeared in an instant. She smiled softly at him, before the pair then walked confidently down the boarding ramp.

 

Even before she set foot on the ground the humid air of Nal Hutta hit her like a wave, and she was unprepared for the repugnant smell of the planet’s atmosphere. On the other hand, the Mandalorian was unfazed by the sudden change in the atmosphere around him and comfortable inside his armor’s environmental control systems, although the weight of the armor made him sink slightly into the mud. At the entrance to the palace were a pair of Klatooinian guards, both of which looked at the Jedi Knight with disdain.

 

Karel walked past her and up the small set of stairs leading to the main gate. He halted as he reached the top of the stairs and the two guards grunted at him.

 

“We bring news from the Republic for the Besadii,” he said firmly, but the guards were not convinced. One of them pointed at Chiru’s lightsaber, making it clear that she was the problem. Without thinking it twice, Karel extended his arm to Chiru and spoke out loud. “Give me your weapon.”

 

“What?” she asked in disbelief, and she instinctively reached for the weapon.

 

“Just give me your lightsaber or we’re not getting in. Your call.”

 

She sighed, but relented after a moment and handed him her weapon. All lightsabers were unique in their own way, but a crossguard lightsaber was even rarer, especially during a time when the Guardian Protocols meant most lightsabers lacked the artistry seen in those built during times of peace.

 

“I want that back,” she hissed as he stuck the lightsaber to his belt using the magnetic plate inside the hilt.

 

With the Jedi Knight now disarmed in the eyes of the simple-minded Klatooinians, the enormous gates opened in front of the pair. They stayed close to each other as they took an elevator to the upper levels of the palace, then began walking through a wide, dark hallway. They passed a multitude of species from all types of criminal occupations, from petty thieves to deadly assassins, and the Jedi Knight didn’t have to use the Force to know they were less than pleased by her presence. She moved closer to Karel, who was seemingly unbothered by the stares and whispered conversations around them.

 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” she whispered, leaning closer to him.

 

A Nikto, whose appearance reminded her of an infuriated Master Di, walked past them and muttered a phrase in Huttese, the meaning of which she suspected was an insult of some kind directed at her.

 

"Quiet, we're here now," Karel replied.

 

As they rounded a corner, they arrived at a large throne room. On one side of the room was a multitude of bounty hunters, mercenaries and other outlaws gathered to feast and drink to their lord’s name, who was sitting on the opposite side of the throne room. He was a Hutt of average build for his kind, and his blue-yellow skin made him slightly less repulsive than most members of his species. With his unique Hookah pipe by his side and the symbol of the Besadii tattooed on his left shoulder, Arok the Hutt stood out as one of the most powerful and ruthless Hutt crime lords of his time.

 

As soon as they appeared, the conversations ceased and a tense silence descended on the room. Arok inhaled the smoke from his pipe once again, before turning his attention to his new guests.

 

“Jansek! Peedunkee, caba dee unko! ” the crime lord exclaimed as soon as he laid eyes on the Mandalorian. His enthusiasm was just the latest surprise this day had brought Chiru, and something told her it wouldn’t be the last.

 

To the right of Arok's throne stood an RA-7 protocol droid, painted brown with black photoreceptors. It began translating for its master, speaking in a calm, masculine voice. “Grand Arok welcomes you into his palace."

 

The Hutt, however, ordered his droid to stay quiet upon recognizing Chiru as a Jedi, much to her disappointment as she now only understood the conversation taking place in front of her by studying the Hutt’s behavior and Karel’s answers.

 

"It's been a while, Arok. I see you redecorated since the last time I was here." Jansek looked around himself, recognizing a few faces in the Hutt’s court.

 

The Mandalorian smirked under his helmet as he was welcomed with open arms by the crime lord. He moved closer to the Hutt, closer than any one of his minions would be allowed. Surprise crossed Chiru's face once more as she realized the Mandalorian had a past history with the Hutt, and a long one at that.

 

Arok, however, did not appear too pleased at Karel’s new loyalties, and his tone shifted to a more cautious one as he looked at the lightsaber hanging from his belt and the Pantoran by his side.

 

“Kava na yuna wa paroo, Jansek…” the Hutt mumbled, before inhaling once again from his pipe. “Hobuna purvuna… Jedi.”

 

“Contract requirements. The Jedi serve the Republic and the Republic hired me. That’s all there is to it,” Karel lied, nodding at the Pantoran.

 

She knew he was just lying, but the ease with which he did made her wonder if there was some truth behind his words, and the thought of their friendship being just a game for him made her look away to avoid revealing any emotions.

 

Karel continued unfazed, his voice even and firm. “Arok, I may be a mercenary but I’m a man of my word. I have evidence to prove there are great threats to your operations with the Levaki Syndicate, and they have been keeping the truth hidden from you.”

 

“You lying scum!” a voice shouted from the crowd behind them.

 

A Barbadelan male, of middle age and dressed in an elegant dark purple robe made from shraa silk, stood at the center of the crowd, his hands and neck adorned with extravagant osmium jewelry. He pushed the other thugs out of his way as he came to stand at the front, disgust etched across his face.

 

Arok appeared to be slightly surprised by this piece of information the Mandalorian had brought him. The first rule of the crime world was never to trust anyone, but most beings were smart enough not to upset the Hutts. Arok’s face turned to one of mild anger as he considered his options quietly, while everyone in the room waited anxiously for his response.

 

After a moment, the Hutt turned to the droid at his side and gave it a single order in Huttese. The protocol droid then turned towards the audience once more and said, “Grand Arok wishes to speak in private with the representatives from the Republic and the Levaki family.”

 

The room quickly emptied of Arok’s underlings. Karel motioned Chiru to stand at his side in front of the Hutt lord and she reluctantly did, avoiding their gazes. The Barbadelan ambassador moved to stand on Karel’s left side, while Chiru stood on the opposite side and slightly away from the discussing parties. No sooner had the last thug left, the massive doors on either side of the room sealed shut as Arok returned his attention to his guests.

 

The Levaki representative turned to look at the Mandalorian, glaring daggers at him as Arok spoke once more, and this time his droid translated its master’s words while he inhaled from his pipe again.

 

“Varcosin Levaki, these are serious accusations against your family. What do you have to say in your defense?" the droid asked the Barbadelan.

 

Caught off guard, the Levaki ambassador was visibly anxious as he spoke. However, he did his best to appear calm enough to sound convincing, but angered by the Mandalorian.

 

"We are honored to work with the Besadii. We have no desire to oppose you, my lord. Whatever threat he is talking about is nothing more than a plot from the Republic to divide us. Our loyalty belongs to you, Grand Arok."

 

"Is that why you blocked my attempts to learn more about the Bloodclaw Cartel when I contacted your headquarters less than an hour ago?" Karel asked sarcastically. Varcosin glared at him once more, averting Arok's gaze. "We raided an arms dealer on Kafrene supplying weapons to the Bloodclaw Cartel. Military-grade weapons. I have credible information that these weapons will be used to wage a war against the Hutt Cartel and its allies, starting with the Levaki."

 

“This is outrageous!” Varcosin replied, but it was clear he was unprepared for this situation. "The Bloodclaw are no more than common pirates. An example will be made of them! And of you!"

 

Unfazed by Varcosin's threat, Karel calmly turned to face the ambassador and asked, “Like it was made of the spice shipment lost two rotations ago near Ballum?”

 

“Epoma ko wona!” Arok shouted, fixing at Varcosin, who avoided his master's furious gaze.

 

Before the droid could translate or the Levaki ambassador could try to explain his failures, the Mandalorian took a resolute step forward. Looking up at the slug through his dark visor, Karel spoke in a low, serious voice once more.

 

“If they are bold enough to attack your vassals then it won't be long until they attack you. The Levaki Syndicate don’t have the capability or the will to stop the Bloodclaw Cartel. Arok, not once did my father fail any task you gave him, no matter how dangerous they were, and his success brought a new golden age to the Besadii. And if you trust me half as much as you trusted him, you can be certain that I will succeed where the Levaki have failed. I can stop this nuisance before it becomes a threat."

 

To say Karel disliked taking advantage of his father's reputation would be an understatement, but he understood the need to be pragmatic. And while his statement was bold, it was truthful nonetheless. Arok knew this as he laughed, amused by the Mandalorian’s words. The room then fell into a tense silence as he considered his options, mumbling to himself. Despite Chiru's best efforts she couldn't overcome the Hutt's natural immunity to her telepathic powers as he spoke in Huttese, which his droid translated to Basic.

 

"<State your price, Mandalorian.>"

 

"The full cooperation of the Levaki Syndicate and a guarantee of safe passage through Hutt Space, just in case."

 

"<And what about credits?>"

 

"No credits. Consider this as a friend helping you with an… infestation."

 

Chiru and the Levaki ambassador waited anxiously for Arok's decision, but Karel smirked under his helmet as the lord of the Besadii announced his decision with a nod of approval to his droid.

 

"You are as devious as your father, Jansek. Grand Arok accepts your terms," the protocol droid said, then turned to address Varcosin. "You are to obey Jansek and the Jedi as you would obey your master. They are now under the protection of the Besadii."

 

---

 

A few hours later, Gray Hawk, hyperspace

 

“What are we doing here?” Chiru asked, coming to stand next to the Mandalorian as he sat at the controls of his ship.

 

His visor moved slightly to the right in acknowledgment of her presence before returning his attention to the controls. There was an endless void ahead of them, but a small object slowly started to fill the view, and he activated the floodlights at the front of the ship as he flew closer to the unidentified object.

 

“The spice freighter the Bloodclaw attacked? This is all that’s left of it.”

 

The scanners found a match for the ship’s distress beacon, an old Barloz freighter called the Tenedos. Multiple fragments floated around the wreck and sparks appeared throughout the hull, or what was left of it. It looked more like a container that had been violently torn apart by a vicious creature to reach its contents. A body floated aimlessly through the remnants of the destroyed cockpit and Chiru inhaled sharply as it slowly turned towards them. The body was that of a Vodran, his face contorted in pain while his eyes were rolled back.

 

Though she would probably never get used to sights like this one, her reaction was much more controlled than it would have been not long ago, although the Mandalorian showed no emotion whatsoever as he stood up. He ordered the Pantoran to take the controls, and she took his seat while he went back inside the cargo hold. She looked around herself, unsure if she should even be in such a position. Trying to distract herself from the view ahead of her, Chiru took note of everything else in her surroundings, from the worn leather of the controls to the interface of the instrument panel. It was written in the Mandalorian alphabet, and she focused on said characters as she put her limited knowledge of the language to the test. Slowly she started deciphering phrases like “FUEL CAPACITY: 87%”, “ENGINE STATUS: OPTIMAL” and “ATMOSPHERE: MAIN CARGO HOLD VENTED”.

 

Main cargo hold vented? she repeated in her mind, and at that moment a knock came from above. She jumped in her seat as she looked up to see Karel kneeling on the hull of the ship and looking down at her through the transparisteel canopy.

 

He smirked behind his helmet at her reaction, then spoke in the comms and said, “Don’t get too comfortable, I’m still not letting you fly my ship.”

 

She reacted to his comment with a smirk of her own and a roll of her eyes, then spoke through the ship’s comlink, “Is this really necessary? We could just send a probe droid.”

 

The concern in her voice was not lost on Karel, and he pressed his hand to the transparisteel window as he spoke. "Relax, half an hour in vacuum is nothing my armor can’t handle. Besides, a probe droid wouldn’t know what to look for."

 

“Just hurry up before you suffocate to death."

 

His gaze lifted back to the wreck in front of him. It was about twenty meters away, and he took a deep breath before plunging into the void. Chiru's gaze was fixed on him as he slowly drifted towards the freighter's cockpit.

 

"My armor systems are linked to the ship. You should be receiving a visual now."

 

She did, and the screen on the left of the instrument panel showed her Jansek's point of view as he reached the cockpit on the starboard side of the ship. The flashlight in his helmet turned on as he clung to the edge of the window panel and pulled himself inside, moving to analyze the corpse floating around. There was a large gash across the throat and the blood around the cut had frozen like the rest of his body, while across his torso were two wide, deep cuts. One was vertical, slightly curved outwards, and extended from his upper left side all the way down to his abdomen, while the other one was horizontal and ran from one breast to the other. Burn marks and bruises covered his entire body and face.

 

"This guy was tortured,” the Mandalorian noted, thinking out loud. His gaze lowered slightly to see the marks inflicted upon the Vodran before asking, “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

 

Chiru was quiet as she looked away from the screen, and she took a moment to calm herself before replying.

 

"It's… a statement," she whispered, disturbed by the sight.

 

Jansek took note of her distress, and he shifted his focus to another part of the wreck as he let go of the Vodran’s body. Grasping the pilot’s seat with both hands, he pulled himself forward and reached the door. Taking another moment to take a deep breath, Karel pressed his feet against the wall and lurched forward, floating through the corridor leading to the aft of the ship.

 

The silence of the void had a calming effect on the Mandalorian, allowing him some respite from the gruesome scene he had just witnessed. He was still careful though, making sure to avoid the exposed cables around him. The metal of the hull was peeled back, and fragments of debris floated around him as he exited the cockpit and entered the main deck. The passenger compartments had been removed to expand the crew cabins and the separate common room was replaced by a large table in the middle of the open space. Just behind the boarding ramps was a small wall separating the main deck from the cargo bay, which took up almost three quarters of the interior space.

 

“What are you expecting to find in there?” Chiru asked as Karel reached the wall.

 

"I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “Check the transponder signal. We know it was carrying spice, but freighters of this size are usually company-owned and operated."

 

It took her no time to find the ship’s profile in the BoSS database using her security clearance as a Jedi Knight, and she relayed the information to the Mandalorian as he moved to the cargo bay's door.

 

“The Tenedos, owned and operated by the Novabarrel Distillery for almost 20 years. No history of involvement in illegal activities.”

 

“It’s an open secret that Novabarrel is a front company for the Hutts. What about the crew?”

 

Karel reached the cargo bay and laid eyes upon its wrecked state. Neither escape pod had been launched meaning the captain either refused to abandon his ship or had no chance to do so. Dozens of boxes floated aimlessly around the cargo hold, and aside from a few ration crates most were sealed and had the label of the Novabarrel Distillery. A few shattered bottles of liquor also floated around, occasionally clashing against each other and scattering their contents without making a sound as Karel maneuvered himself to reach the aft of the cargo bay.

 

“Captain’s name is Cerju Morlak. He’s been with the company for eight years and has been a pilot for thirteen. There’s a few minor charges on his record: solicitation on Sleheyron nine years ago, and four years after that he got into a drunken brawl on Taris, but not much else.”

 

“Either way, the captain did go down with his ship,” the Mandalorian remarked as he reached the engineering section.

 

A gaping hole had been blown open where the left engine should be and the right engine had been blown to pieces. There was no doubt the ship had fallen victim to an attack, but the nature of it was confusing. The ship's engines were destroyed, leaving the vessel adrift before being boarded; it was a holobook example of a pirate attack. But why was the cargo practically intact? A shipment of alcohol would have been a major prize for any pirate crew, but this treasure had instead been left unplundered.

 

“Take a look at the schematics,” said Karel as he returned to the cargo hold. “A ship of this size should have space for a sizable smuggling compartment.”

 

“There is a maintenance crawlway running horizontally through the center of the cargo hold,” Chiru said after a moment.

 

Activating his magnetic boots, Karel's feet stuck to the floor of the ship. His gauntlet blade activated as he knelt down and he jammed the blade between the floor panels to find the crawlway. Soon enough one panel came loose and he removed it to see what was behind it. Inside was a small metallic chest, unpainted and undecorated, and further along the crawlway were a few more identical crates. As soon as the Master Chief removed the lid the dusty contents began floating in the air, staining his leather gloves as he rubbed his fingertips together.

 

“Sansanna spice. High quality, highly addictive, and very expensive," Karel noted. His confusion was shared by the Pantoran as she fixed her gaze on the screen.

 

"That must be worth millions in the black market," she noted, likewise astounded by the discovery.

 

“Enough to set you for life anywhere in the galaxy, but something’s not right." He sealed the box once more and placed the floor tile back in its place before moving to leave the cargo hold. "What kind of pirates attack a ship and don’t loot the cargo?"

 

Aturo couldn’t give him a logical answer, and she too was left pondering the situation. The Mandalorian deactivated his magnetic boots, and once again he took a deep breath as he floated through the wreck. Making his way back to the cockpit, he was about to leave when something caught his attention.

 

Under the pilot’s console, a small blue light blinked slowly and as he reached for the source of the light, he noticed the small holoprojector that had been magnetically attached to the console. The device activated as the Master Chief held it in his palm, and Chiru’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the recording through his transmission.

 

“If you are watching this, Jedi , you have made a grave mistake , ” a disembodied voice said, disgusted at the allegiance of their foe.

 

The hologram of a Pau’an shimmered to life, and his eyes met the Mandalorian’s behind his helmet and Chiru’s through the transmission as they listened to his message. Vol Yumpag had finally revealed himself, but it would be a brief appearance.

 

“The Besadii will burn, and you can do nothing to stop us. You will stand in our way no more.”

 

The transmission cut off and at that exact moment alarms appeared throughout the cockpit of the Gray Hawk , warning of a flight of four unidentified starfighters coming out of hyperspace and closing in for an attack run from above.

 

"Get out of here!" Karel ordered, and the patrol craft turned hard to the right, barely avoiding the incoming barrage of enemy fire as the attackers zipped past the wreckage in pursuit of their prey.

 

Though a competent pilot in her own right, Chiru struggled to understand the layout of the ship’s controls. That, combined with her being used to flying the more agile and nimble Jedi ships, meant the Gray Hawk handled like a drunk bantha to her. It was rocked violently as one of the fighters scored a hit between the port engine and the aft thrusters. The deflector shields did their job, for now, but  it would only be a matter of time before they failed.

 

From the wreckage of the Tenedos, Jansek watched as the Pantoran was locked in a complicated series of turns and rolls to avoid giving a clear target to her pursuers. The four starfighters were painted dark brown, with the same symbol that was carved on the captain’s body painted in dark red on each side of their fuselages.

 

“I can’t shake them off!” Aturo shouted, and the panic in her voice made Karel rush to find a solution. As she put the ship in a hard bank to the left she finally managed to focus the deflector shields on the rear of the ship, buying some time as the Master Chief came up with another daring plan.

 

“I have an idea. Draw them towards the wreck.”

 

“And then what?!”

 

“I need you to trust me. Approach my position on heading 285. On my signal, fire up the ventral maneuvering jets at full power,” the Mandalorian replied in an even voice, completely focused on the task at hand.

 

With a groan of frustration, and no other options at her disposal, Chiru turned the ship once again as she was getting more used to its handling. As she moved closer to the wreckage, Karel was able to remotely activate the automated defense system, and the triple laser turret on the dorsal side of the ship turned to aim at the assailants.

 

One of the fighters received a direct hit to its port side, and it spun out of control before violently tearing apart. The three remaining fighters retreated for a moment to avoid crashing into their wingmate, but soon enough they were back in pursuit of the Jedi as she closed in on the wreck.

 

“I think I know what you’re planning. And I don’t like it,” she remarked as she kept the ship as steady as possible in preparation for the next maneuver.

 

From the remnants of the destroyed vessel, Karel saw his ship fast approaching and the fighters swarming it from behind, avoiding the fire from the dorsal turret. He held tightly to the edge of the window panel while the Lancer -class rapidly grew in size, and the Mandalorian prepared his right gauntlet’s grappling hook. The ship was now so close he could see Chiru in the pilot’s seat, and their gazes met as he gave the order she was waiting for.

 

“Now!”

 

The bow of the Gray Hawk rose suddenly, accelerating rapidly and barely avoiding the wreck as the maneuvering thrusters came to life. As the ship passed over the Tenedos, Karel fired his grappling hook and was pulled violently as a ball of flames appeared behind him, caused by one of the three starfighters crashing into the wreck of the Barloz freighter. The remaining pair of Bloodclaw starfighters carried on with their pursuit, none the wiser to Karel’s tactic as his grappling hook had embedded itself in one of the lead fighter’s intake vents.

 

“Dive!”

 

The Master Chief was flung harshly under the full force of the maneuver. The thin fibercord was the only thing holding him secured as he swung like a pendulum around the aft of the starfighter. Then he came down, landing harshly on the fighter’s hull and facing the cockpit as the pilot was stunned by his appearance. His magnetic boots secured him as their gazes met, and while the pilot’s face was obscured by a breathing mask and helmet it was clear they belonged to some type of humanoid species. But before they could do anything, Karel raised his right gauntlet and pressed it against the transparisteel canopy. The repulsor charged up not a moment too soon and sent a shock wave through the canopy, vibrating it at just the right frequency for it to shatter in a thousand pieces and knocking out the pilot in the process.

 

With no one at the controls, critical systems began failing in the doomed starfighter. Thinking fast, the Master Chief leaped back into the void, and the fighter exploded behind him as he was left adrift in space.

 

Back at the controls of the Gray Hawk , Chiru prepared to carry out her own suicidal maneuver. She rocked the ship from side to side like a weight attached to the end of a pendulum, and her pursuer imitated her motion. Then, she pulled the patrol craft in a hard barrel roll to the left, struggling against the controls with all of her might as she cut off the engines while the ship was now upside down. The pilot of the Z-28, caught completely off guard by the maneuver, failed to notice his prey reducing its speed. As the patrol craft came down from its roll Chiru had the fighter square in her sights, and the engagement was over as the medium laser cannons opened fire on the enemy. The ship was enveloped in a cloud of fire and metal as it flew straight through the ensuing explosion, too close to avoid it.

 

Despite her training, the Jedi Knight was panting as the adrenaline left her veins. She sank into her chair as she collapsed on the controls, taking a brief moment to calm down. Breathing deeply, she reminded herself that they weren’t in the clear yet and she moved to the Master Chief’s location. She positioned the ship below him as he fired his grappling hook again and pulled himself to the ship. The dorsal airlock opened and he went inside, closing the hatch behind him. Chiru watched the instruments as the atmosphere was pumped back into the main cargo hold, then she  sprang to her feet and marched towards the aft of the ship. As she approached the door it unlocked in front of her, the pressure inside now back to safe levels. She opened the door with the Force, and her gaze met Karel’s behind his visor.

 

“Don’t you dare do another stunt like that ever again!” She punched the Mandalorian in the gaps between the armor around his right shoulder, emphasizing her point and the seriousness of her warning. For his part, the Master Chief had expected a similar response now that he better understood her reactions to his antics, and it amused him how easy it was for him to test the Jedi Knight’s patience.

 

“You’re one to talk,” he replied, not to be left behind and looking to turn the situation around. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t teach you to fly like that. Good thinking though.”

 

“Flattery won’t get you out of trouble this time.” The Pantoran crossed her arms, fixing at him with a stern glance and making it clear she wouldn’t back down.

 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Karel replied under her stern gaze, recognizing his defeat by raising his free hand in front of him. “That was stupid and dangerous. I can’t say I won’t do that again, but I promise I’ll try not to. Happy now?”

 

She raised her eyebrow, skeptical considering his previous actions, but trusting him to keep his word as a Mandalorian. Despite how stubborn both of them were, they had to admit it would be hypocritical to point out the other’s recklessness without acknowledging their own.

 

With a sigh, the Jedi Knight accepted his offer. Her gaze softened, hinting at the underlying concern she had for his safety as she spoke in a more measured tone.

 

“What should we do now?”

 

In an instant, the Mandalorian’s attitude changed, and he returned to his characteristic cold and stoic demeanor as he spoke.

 

“There’s a Republic medical station not far from here. I’ll drop you off there with instructions to take you back to Coruscant.”

 

The Pantoran stood, dumbfounded, in the cargo bay, initially believing she had misheard him.

 

“W-What?” was all she managed to ask as the Master Chief walked out of the cargo hold.

 

“I’m taking you off this mission. I’ll handle the Bloodclaw myself.” 

 

Her emotions shifted in the Force as well. Baffled and offended by his decision, her voice rose as she followed him into the armory.

 

“Why?”

 

“The entire reason that lunatic wants you dead is because you’re a Jedi, and he almost got his wish today.” The walls inside the armory were covered with all sorts of weaponry, and Jansek rummaged through the extensive collection to prepare for the hunt that was to come. “I’m not about to hand you over to him on a chromium platter.”

 

“l’m a Jedi Knight, not a youngling,” she shot back, indignant, “I can take care of myself.”

 

“These are real people, they’re not predictable like battle droids,” he said, though he didn’t bother to look over at her. Instead he took a blaster rifle and set it down on the workbench, turning his back to the Pantoran as he inspected the weapon. “You’re staying somewhere safe until this is over.”

 

“You are unbelievable! How could you possibly ask me to sit around and do nothing while you go up against an entire cartel all by yourself?”

 

“It’s not up for debate. You’re going back.”

 

“I’m not letting you do this alone. You could die!“

 

With the adrenaline still rushing through his veins, the Master Chief slammed the blaster against the workbench, the sound of clashing metal reverberating through the walls as he turned to address her.

 

“And I won’t let you die with me!”

 

But the Pantoran stood her ground. Clenching her fists, Aturo’s gaze met Karel’s behind his helmet, and the fire in her eyes was as fierce as the twin suns of Tatooine. It was an unstoppable force against an immovable object, and neither of them was willing to concede defeat. In the few seconds they stood there, Chiru felt countless emotions racing through his mind. But there was one emotion that she had never before felt in him: fear. Not for himself, but for her.

 

She had seen him perform countless acts of heroism, from disarming bombs in the chaos of battle to destroying a Separatist fortress all by himself, and not once had she sensed even a hint of fear in him. But now, his concern for her safety enveloped her. Her expression relaxed slowly as she tried to process what she had just learnt, and the Master Chief could see that she had solved the puzzle before he returned to the workbench.

 

Working quietly, he continued disassembling the device, turning it over in his hands and removing components, until he felt a small hand holding lightly to his arm. Resigned, and mentally scolding himself for letting his emotions surface, he sighed as their gazes met once more. But her eyes were gentle this time, the fire in them gone, and her expression now one of understanding.

 

“If something goes wrong and the Republic needs a scapegoat they wouldn’t hesitate to throw me to the Hutts if it means keeping the slugs happy and the hyperlanes open. And it’s easier to say that when he’s not travelling with a Jedi Knight. Why do you think I can take missions like these? It’s because I’m expendable. And I’ve learned to live with that.”

 

She knew what he said was true, and the politics of their mission were of massive consequence, but in the moment none of that mattered to her.

 

“You are not expendable.”

 

Not to me.

 

“We both know I am, and I’m fine with that. I’m a Mandalorian, we’re warriors, this is just what life is like for us. It always has been-”

 

“Stop.” she said, firmly. “A Jedi Knight is bound by duty to protect others, with her life if need be. And it doesn’t matter how expendable you think you are, I’m not letting you do this alone. I am coming with you.”

 

Duty. Of course that’s why she wanted to come, and it was something he knew all too well. But as much as he hated to admit it, he had no other option but to let her come, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. He could try kicking her out of his ship, but he already knew it was not worth the trouble.

 

“Fine,” he mumbled in defeat, and a small smile appeared on her lips as the tension between them disappeared.

 

He raised his left hand, holding the holoprojector between the two of them. It was a simple model, meant for the civilian market and painted silver. It had a few scratches and other signs of wear and tear, suggesting it had been in use for some time.

 

“I can’t find a serial code, so I don’t think we’ll be able to track down the buyer,” he explained, handing her the device.

 

Turning the object in her hands, she hummed to herself for a moment before an idea came to her mind.

 

“The droids in the Analysis Rooms could run some tests.” He raised a hand as he was about to object to the idea, and she immediately added, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they don’t share this with anyone else.”

 

Karel nodded his reluctant agreement, trusting her to be able to keep this case under wraps, then started walking out of the cargo bay as he spoke. “Fine. I’ll speak to the Besadii. The Bloodclaw now has the location of every Hutt installation that freighter went to, so they should increase security just in case. It should be enough to distract them from the lost spice.”

 

His plan to lie to the Hutt lord rang alarm bells in her mind as she remembered his earlier warning about the slugs, and she voiced her concerns openly while they walked back towards the cockpit. “You’re not going to tell them the truth about the spice? I thought you said they don’t take kindly to liars.”

 

“It’s risky, but we can’t trust anyone else. For now, it would be best if we keep everything under a need-to-know basis.”

 

After pondering it for a moment, the Pantoran agreed with his logic, and the two sat back at the cockpit as the Master Chief plotted a new hyperspace course while he moved the ship to the jump point. As the hyperdrive came to life, the pair gazed at the stars stretching ahead of them before the ship left realspace, leaving the remains of their defeated enemies behind them.

 

---

 

Three days later, Nar Haaska, Hutt Space

 

As Chiru made her way through the planet’s spaceport she looked out for any potential threats. The settlement consisted mostly of low-rise buildings designed in the classical Hutt style and the weather, though still hot and humid, was more tolerable than that of Nal Hutta. It was by all accounts an insignificant world, and one which the Hutts ruled with a light touch. Merchants of all types announced their wares, from food and clothing to cooking utensils and furniture, and while some people ignored them others stopped to inspect the products.

 

A multitude of species were present at the market, and the Jedi Knight had to restrain herself from upholding the rule of law in this lawless world. In front of her, three Aqualish thugs were threatening a Quarren for not paying back his loans and he assured them that he would have their money soon, pleading to them for more time, while at the same time a pair of youngsters stole a parked speeder bike in an alley to her right.

 

But none of them were the target she was looking for, and she kept walking as she heard the Mandalorian calling for her.

 

“I don’t like this plan,” he said through the comms.

 

The Pantoran turned on a corner to the right, then raised her gauntlet and spoke through the comlink. “We don’t have another option. You said that the Bloodclaw wants me because I’m a Jedi and this is the best way to get to them.”

 

Wearing her Jedi robe, Aturo stood out from the crowd, although most people other than the merchants seemed content to ignore her presence.

 

“Using you as bait is not what I had in mind when I said that,” the Mandalorian replied, frustrated.

 

From his position atop a comm tower, he looked down at the Pantoran with his rangefinder. She had stopped at one of the market stands, seemingly inspecting the tools on sale. As Karel scanned the area around her he quickly put his misgivings aside and swiftly returned to his mission.

 

“I see something. At your left, two pilots. Same uniform as the ones who attacked us.”

 

Discreetly turning her head to look at the pilots, she saw them leave the market and head towards the entertainment district. She kept close to the side of the streets, moving from cover to cover between alleys and parked vehicles. A loud whistle was heard in the distance to the east, announcing the change of shifts in the spaceport.

 

The only sounds heard were the steps of her targets as they walked through the middle of the empty dirt road. She watched one of them unlock a door and enter a two-story building, followed by his partner. The door closed behind them and Aturo cautiously moved closer to the building, looking up to read the sign hanging above the door.

 

The Golden Slug: Food & Drinks

 

She grimaced at the title, musing that it sounded like something a Hutt would name a cantina.

 

The Jedi Knight stood in front of the establishment for a moment as she adjusted the hood of her robe. Taking a deep breath, Chiru walked forward, her confidence hidden behind her tentative walk and stoop, portraying, for all to see, a mysterious stranger woman who seemed reluctant to enter, but who didn’t have another choice. As the doors slid open in front of her, the lively conversations, loud music, and the strong smell of alcohol overwhelmed her senses, but she pressed on.

 

She took note of her surroundings as she walked down a few steps and further into the bar. At first glance, everyone seemed too preoccupied with their own conversations to pay any attention to her, but not all was as it seemed as she met a Zabrak’s gaze, and in that moment, she could sense the contempt, disgust, and hatred inside of him. For a moment she froze, realizing that she had walked right into a trap.

 

In an instant her lightsaber came to life, casting a dim blue light on her face, followed immediately by the drawing of blasters all around her. The cantina became the site of a deadly standoff as the Jedi Knight turned, seeing blaster barrels aimed at her from every direction.

 

The tension in the air was tangible, but no one dared to make the first move. Aturo tightened her grip on her weapon before remembering her master’s teachings, his voice echoing in her mind.

 

When forced into a fight, a Jedi Knight waits for the right moment to strike back and end the conflict with one decisive blow.

 

One wrong move right now and she’d be dead before she could take any of these sleemos with her. So, the Pantoran took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes as she deactivated her lightsaber. Carefully, she leaned down and placed it on the ground, all the while the blasters aimed at her followed her movements. Then she raised her hands in front of her, and as she did the Zabrak she had seen before stepped to the front and placed a pair of binders on her.

 

The moment she was restrained, the Jedi Knight was pushed down to her knees and the Zabrak pulled back the hood of her robe, portraying, for all to see, their defeated enemy in binds.

 

But there were no celebrations, no gloating at their prisoner. No, this was not a victory, and they understood this as the Zabrak searched for more weapons in silence.

 

Finding nothing, he picked up the Jedi’s weapon from the floor, which calmed the other thugs enough to lower their own weapons. But things were not over just yet, and they all kept a firm grasp on their blasters as the Jedi was pulled back to her feet by the Zabrak.

 

“Take her,” he ordered to a large Devaronian behind Chiru, his voice a low growl.

 

The Devaronian grabbed her right shoulder and shoved her forward as the crowd parted ahead of them. Keeping her balance, Chiru walked deeper into the cantina with as much dignity as she could muster. She could feel the eyes of every thug on her, a mixture of anger and wariness in their eyes as the Zabrak walked in front of her, while the Devaronian kept a firm grasp on her arm.

 

Closing her eyes, Aturo focused on the Force around her, letting it envelop her as she continued walking through a dimly lit hallway to the backrooms of the building. There was near absolute coldness around her as she found only the emotions of those who despised her and everything she stood for. But like the green daisies she observed in the meditation gardens growing up, she focused on the warmth and the light she could feel. And what she felt was a warm presence watching over her despite the obstacles between them, and one that was becoming more luminous with every passing day.

 

That presence, his presence, reassured her that she was not standing alone against this foe. He could not answer, but he could listen. And so he did as her voice echoed in his mind.

 

I’m here.

 

She was brought to a halt, pulling her out of her thoughts as she came to stand in front of a large door. As it opened, Chiru was met with the sight of a dozen thugs, and she had no time to react as the Devaronian behind her pressed a blaster to her back and fired a stun shot. An intense pain surged through her entire body as her nervous system overloaded, rendering her unconscious as her vision was filled by a blinding flash of light before turning dark instantly. As her unconscious body collapsed to the floor the Devaronian picked her up with little effort and loaded her into the back of a speeder truck.

 

From his vantage point, Karel watched through his helmet’s visor as the vehicle drove away, torn by the situation. While this plan might have been Chiru’s decision, and it had been one he had reluctantly accepted, things had at least transpired as they had planned. It was a complicated balance between protecting her and not holding her back, and it was one he struggled to maintain with every day they fought together. For a moment he wondered if this was how his father felt every time Karel acted recklessly, and as he felt an acute pain traveling down his leg he was reminded of the consequences of that recklessness. But he had sworn an oath to protect her, and the oaths of a Mandalorian were a promise to Master Di, and as a Mandalorian he would do everything in his power to keep that promise.

 

**********

 

The first thing that registered through the haze of unconsciousness was a large jolt, and the lack of room, which only added to the pain of the movement. Chiru stirred and raised her head slowly. Even still, she bonked her head against the interior of whatever it was she was in. At this, her head quickly cleared, and the pain of the impact was the first immediate message her brain sent her. Blinking rapidly, Chiru opened her eyes fully and took stock of her surroundings and the sensation of the rest of her body. Judging by how cramped things were and how little she could see around her, it wasn't hard to deduce she'd been shoved into a crate or something similar.

 

That was rude, she couldn't help but think, before blushing at the reminder that Karel would've seen her in such a mortifying position.

 

Pull yourself together. You’re the one who came up with this plan. Chiru blushed again before giving herself a mental smack. As her sight started to adjust to the low light, and seeing she was in binds, she readied herself with a sigh and reached out in front of her, feeling the inside of whatever she was being held hostage in.

 

It didn’t take her long to find what felt like a lock, the bulkiness of which implied a fair degree of complexity to its mechanical operation, and she laid her hands atop it as she took a deep breath. Picking the lock would be impossible without tools, but she had a different method that just might work.

 

In her mind, Chiru pictured the mechanism, the individual parts clicking and grinding against each other as they moved with precision. Slowly and patiently her imagination became reality as the sophisticated device seemingly began following her commands until it suddenly disengaged with a metallic clang, setting the Jedi Knight free from captivity.

 

She hesitantly opened the container she was trapped within, hoping there was no one around to hear or see her escape. To her relief, she found herself alone inside some sort of cargo bay, and she breathed the stale and recycled air that was all too common in starships and space stations.

 

Just as she managed to stand up, she heard a door opening to her right, drawing her attention before she dashed for cover behind another container. As she watched from her hiding spot, and her sight readjusted to the more illuminated surroundings, the figure of a Rodian appeared in front of her.

 

“What?” the Rodian asked to himself in disbelief as he approached the crate where Chiru was locked within, a single lamp casting its light directly above the empty container. 

 

As if answering his question, Aturo dashed behind the thug, who turned at the sound of her footsteps. With a thud, the Rodian fell unconscious into the crate as Chiru connected a kick to his right lobe. Losing no time, she shoved him into the crate she had previously been trapped in.

 

Looking down at the binders restraining her hands, she sighed as she hurried to the door the Rodian had appeared from. As she slipped through the doorway, Chiru now found herself walking through a wide corridor, illuminated by dim lights overhead and covered by metal panels, and she wandered aimlessly through the hallways for a few minutes as she looked for an exit, surprised that she had yet to be confronted by anyone.

 

Eventually, the Jedi Knight found herself standing in front of a large viewport, and she immediately recognized the world in front of her as the one she had just been abducted from. In her eyes Nar Haaska now had a beauty that she couldn’t imagine ever finding in a Hutt world, a humble and simple beauty that was the opposite of what she knew a city to be.

 

But that beauty would be lost, as from the corner of her eye she watched a turbolaser turning to aim at the city. The weapon fired with a muffled boom and one of the towers of the settlement immediately came crumbling down. More explosions followed as the Jedi Knight watched in horror at the devastation she had failed to prevent. Tears began to well in her eyes as she sensed the deaths of the innocent below, and her strong emotions fueled her desire for justice by any means necessary.

 

She closed her eyes, reaching to dry her tears with the sleeve of her tunic, when she heard a cry coming from her left side, immediately followed by a blaster shot from the same direction.

 

“It’s the Jedi! Get her!”

 

As she turned to evade the attack she spotted her attacker, an Iktochi with their blaster pistol trained at her as three more thugs appeared. The bolt clipped the shoulder of her tunic, scorching it slightly as she cleared her mind of the massacre below and rushed to engage the enemies in a melee.

 

Chiru watched a second red bolt of ionized plasma appear from the tip of the barrel and raised her binders, blocking the blaster shot aimed at her head and deflecting it harmlessly into a nearby wall.

 

The shooter collapsed to the ground as Chiru swept them off their feet. Two more thugs flanked her as the one on her left also pulled out his blaster, and she once again dodged a shot that instead struck the third attacker before he could do anything. The second shooter stood in shock as his partner fell to the floor while the Jedi Knight moved to his side, trapping his arm between her binders as she swept him off his feet too. His hand dropped the blaster it was holding as his shoulder dislocated, but he had no time to cry out in pain as the Pantoran slammed him against the wall, knocking him out.

 

As she noticed the Iktochi standing up, Chiru struck him with a descending kick on the back of the head, and this time he would not rise again.

 

But the fight was not over as her acute sense of hearing caught on to the low hum of a vibroblade, warning her of the fourth and final opponent as she turned to face them.

 

The attacker, a Snivvian, launched a descending cut that she evaded by taking a step backwards. At the same time, she raised her arms so the vibroblade met the chain of her binders, and they fell to the floor in pieces. With her hands now free to move separately she dashed next to the Snivvian and hit him with an elbow strike to the throat, finishing him off with a second harder strike to the head.

 

She looked around her, making sure she was in no imminent danger anymore before leaning down to inspect her attackers. Finding nothing useful, the Pantoran stood back up as an explosion rocked the entire ship, and after regaining her balance she made her way back to the viewport to investigate what was happening.

 

The Gray Hawk emerged from the smoke and flames of the burning city, and two starfighters followed it closely. The Lancer-class pursuit craft dodged the incoming barrages of laser fire from both the pursuing fighters and the weapon emplacements coming from the starship Chiru was trapped within. One of the enemy fighters burst into flames as it was hit by friendly fire, and soon enough the other one spiraled out of control as the dorsal turret from the Gray Hawk found its mark.

 

“Took you long enough,” Chiru whispered to herself in relief, smiling momentarily as the enemy starfighter erupted in a ball of flames in front of her.

 

The alarms blaring throughout the ship urged her back into action, and she pulled the discarded blaster and vibroknife towards her using the Force. Through her time working with the Mandalorian she had come to realize that, crude and uncivilized though these weapons were, they were better than nothing, even for a Jedi.

 

The Hawk made another run on the ship, wreaking havoc on its port launch bay before the starfighters inside could scramble. It was violently rocked while Chiru braced herself against a nearby wall. She had to find a way to tell Karel she was there, lest he blow up the entire ship with her still aboard. Chiru made her way through the maze of hallways and corridors until she reached a comms panel, and she remembered a trick her Master taught her during a mission to Karnac a couple of years ago.

 

She jabbed the blade of the knife into the comm panel and pulled on the improvised lever, exposing the internal wiring. She frantically traced the circuit layout, her hands following the connections to the multiple components. After finding the relay to the distress beacon she ripped some parts of the wiring while leaving others intact and rearranging them in a different configuration. Two cables remained, one leading to the relay’s power source and another to its transmitter, and she bridged the exposed tips of both cables against each other. The brief bursts of energy traveled through the system, bypassing the ship’s internal comms network and broadcasting the signal directly through the emergency frequency.

 

**********

 

The Bloodclaw fleet halted its attack on the settlement below, and the lull in the battle gave the inhabitants of Nar Haaska the chance to tend to their wounded and seek shelter. The peace would not last, however, as every weapon emplacement aboard the capital ships turned its attention to the Gray Hawk.

 

With more armor than a Basilisk war droid and a pilot that knew every part of the ship, the MandalMotors prototype weaved and dodged through the skies as it continued to pummel the enemy defenses, suffering little more than superficial damage in return. The individual shots of the point-defense laser cannons were harmlessly absorbed by the armor and shields, leaving turbolasers as the only real threat against the flying hunter.

 

Shrugging off a barrage of ineffective laser cannon fire from the ship ahead, the Gray Hawk maintained a steady course as the targeting computer got a lock on the CR56 corvette and the heavy laser cannons at the head of the gunship adjusted their position. Explosions appeared through the length of the corvette’s dorsal hull as the Master Chief finished his strafing run, leaving the burning wreck of the ship behind him as he turned his attention to a larger enemy.

 

The Lancer-class gunship dove towards the settlement below, flying just high enough to avoid the falling debris of the surrounding buildings and the enemy fire. Smaller fragments fell on the hull, shaking the ship as Karel, unfazed by the impacts, maintained a steady grip on the controls.

 

He armed four of the concussion missiles his ship was carrying, determined to bring down the enemy once and for all as he pulled up and the sight of the enemy’s Marauder-class corvette filled his view. His grip on the controls tightened as he waited for the targeting computer to acquire a lock on their target, but he was distracted as an incoming emergency transmission appeared on the computer, its source being the ship ahead.

 

Intrigued, and expecting either an offer of surrender or a chain of insults, he was confused as he only heard static on the comms. Moving to end the transmission, his hand hovered over the switch as he paid attention to the signal, the frequency and distortion of the static changing in short bursts.

 

As an alarm warned him of an impending collision with the capital ship ahead, Karel instinctively tugged on the controls and put the ship on a hard turn to the left, barely avoiding the impact as the Marauder’s turrets followed in an unsuccessful attempt to shoot him down. The Mandalorian steadied his ship as he listened closely to the transmission, making out a hidden message embedded in the signal.

 

Kyber aboard. Disable escorts.

 

Karel chuckled to himself, admittedly proud and impressed by Chiru’s ingenuity, and he caught himself releasing a sigh of relief. That instinctive action, that small demonstration of concern, made him realize just how much Chiru was in his mind. He cared for the Pantoran, just as he would for anyone under his command, but this was different. This was more.

 

He cared about what kept her up at night, what upset her, and what made her happy. He noticed how she curled her lips when she concentrated and how she hummed when she cleaned her lightsaber. He knew what kind of teas she liked and when she preferred drinking caf. Osik, he even knew what her favorite snacks were and stocked them when they resupplied. He knew a thousand little things about her, and he wanted to know a thousand more. He couldn’t remember when, if ever, was the last time he felt anything like this, but what even was this? A spark, a connection? Was it like what he remembered feeling with Veria?

 

A turbolaser bolt struck the port side of the ship, causing a violent shaking that pulled Karel out of the downward spiral he was falling into. Battle was no time to think about emotions, and he scolded himself for his slip up as he verified there was no critical damage.

 

“Get your act together, di’kut!” he shouted, thinking out loud. “You’ll have time to figure it out when this is over or you’re dead.”

 

The shields were at 64% with only minor structural damage to the port air intake vents, and the MandalMotors ship launched a pair of bright green flares as it made a wide turn around the Marauder-class corvette. 

 

**********

 

Aturo watched the flares rise into the air, then slowly fall on the dust-filled ruins of the city below. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched the Gray Hawk turn away from the Marauder and open fire on one of the smaller Corellian corvettes.

 

Having finally managed to communicate her situation, the Pantoran steeled her resolve as she felt a dark presence approaching, and heavy footsteps coming from the other side of the hallway ahead announced its coming. Their rage was second only to their bloodlust, and when the door on the opposite side of the hallway opened Aturo was met with the sight of a Devaronian charging towards her at full speed like an enraged creature.

 

Her initial shock lasted only a moment as the sounds of battle around her died down and she concentrated on her target. She felt the recoil of her blaster pistol and saw the flash of the bolt leaving the barrel, but the Devaronian did not fall. As the large, red-skinned brute grew closer, Aturo fired again, and again, but the Devaronian still did not fall. In her desperation, and with the Devaronian so close now, all she could do was to move out of the way just as her enemy reached her, his fingers grazing her shoulder as she glanced down and saw the unmistakable shape of her lightsaber hanging from the Devaronian’s belt. As he turned to charge her once again, the Pantoran realized this was her moment to strike, and she called on the Force to aid her.

 

Her discarded weapons fell to the floor as she reached out towards her enemy, and almost immediately she felt the cold metal of her lightsaber on her hands. Reunited by what defined her as a Jedi Knight, she moved to an upper hanging guard with her lightsaber perpendicular to her body and her arms raised slightly over her head. All the Pantoran had to do was hold her ground as the Devaronian’s own speed and momentum worked against him, completely impaling him on the plasma blade as the crossguard brought his lifeless body to a halt.

 

With a newfound determination in her eyes, Aturo looked up, the blade of her weapon casting a dim blue light on her face. Her gaze met that of the Devaronian, which bore a permanent expression of shock and disbelief as she felt how the Living Force left him. Aturo stepped aside, and the soft hiss of the Jedi’s weapon deactivating was followed by a thud as the lifeless body of her enemy collapsed on the metal floor.

 

Slowly loosening her grip on her weapon as the adrenaline left her, she knelt and bowed her head, taking a short moment to whisper a traditional Pantoran prayer for the dead as she reached to gently close the Devaronian’s eyes. Ending a life was not something she would ever find pleasure in, but she knew there were times when there was no other choice.

 

With a sigh, Chiru stood back up and hurried through the hallway the Devaronian came from. At the same time she reached a blast door she felt a disturbance in the Force, forcing her to lean against a nearby wall as she became lightheaded for a moment. She had felt anomalies like this before, tremors that would leave her confused and in pain. But this was much more intense than anything she had ever felt, and her telepathic abilities only enhanced the suffering it caused her. She clutched her left hand to her chest as a sharp pain grew in her heart. Her vision became blurry and she struggled to breathe as if the wind had been knocked out of her. The Force that guided her also appeared to break her as she fell to her knees, doing her best to control her breathing as her master had taught her.

 

That’s when she felt it, Master Di’s familiar and calming presence. Despite there being an entire galaxy between them, she would recognize him no matter how many lightyears were between them. The comfort brought by his presence would be short-lived, however, as she felt it fade away slowly, like a fire running out of oxygen, until all she could feel in its place was the chilling darkness of death and a void that only confirmed her worst nightmares.

 

“No… It can’t be,” she whispered to herself. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she desperately denied what she had felt, despite the clear truth she knew in her heart.

 

At this realization, the Pantoran crumbled under the weight of her emotions, and the Force haunted her with memories and visions of her Master through their time together. She decided she wanted to become Master Di’s apprentice during her first lightsaber lesson with the rest of her clan, and a few years later during the Apprentice Tournament she forced herself to hold back tears of joy after he announced his decision to take her as his Padawan. When she was injured in one of their first missions together he made no attempt to conceal his concern for her as he tended to her cuts and bruises.

 

But now the song of Master Di came to an abrupt end, a song that she would never hear again until she herself became one with the Force. Even the small comfort that she would meet her master again in the Cosmic Force paled in comparison with the pain and sorrow of the Pantoran.

 

The simmering flame of grief inside her rose to an inferno. It was a primal and unfocused force of nature that consumed her as she rose unsteadily to her feet and activated her lightsaber. The plasma blade effortlessly pierced the thick durasteel doors, glowing yellow and orange from the heat where the weapon touched. Seconds later, all that remained of the lock was a chunk of metal, warped almost entirely beyond recognition.

 

Raising her hands to touch what remained of the blast doors, she slowly but surely began to pry them open. The metal panels groaned mechanically in protest against the movement, but otherwise offered no resistance beyond their inherent difficulty to force open when sealed. A harsh, grating screech soon followed via the doors' mountings, but by that point, an aperture large enough for Chiru to pass through had been formed.

 

The pirate crew inside the bridge stood paralyzed in shock and awe at the demonstration of the Jedi Knight’s powers, and their fear was evident as she forced her way through the gap between the blast doors. Her golden eyes held in them only contempt, rage and hatred for the beings now in front of her, a far cry from the serenity and calm one would expect from a Jedi Knight like herself.

 

At last, the dozen or so opponents in the room reacted, all raising their blasters almost simultaneously. Aturo called on the Force as the four men around her were sent flying through the air, crashing hard against the nearby consoles and hull panels. The remaining enemies, all rugged rogues and outlaws, backed away in fear of the young woman in front of them but she pressed on.

 

Her instincts warned the Pantoran of the danger ahead and she raised her lightsaber, blocking a bolt aimed at her heart. She turned to the nearest enemy, thrusting at them before moving on to her next target. If another Jedi were to see her they would notice how unrestrained her actions were as she let her emotions guide her, and one by one she mowed down her enemies with the swiftness of a scythe on a field.

 

Only three foes remained standing ahead, one of them being Vol Yumpag himself as he was accompanied by two large Sanyassans armed with vibro-axes. The two of them wore heavy armor made from durasteel plates, while the crime lord wore a dark green cloak of traditional Pau’an design. Behind Yumpag’s expression of hatred and disgust towards the Jedi Knight she could sense the fear inside of him as he ordered his bodyguards to attack her. Their technique was practically nonexistent, however, and they were no match for Aturo and her lightsaber. She effortlessly cut them down in mere seconds, one of them with a thrust to the upper torso and another by an ascending cut to his back. The two large beings fell with a thud as she turned to face the Pau’an. He met the Pantoran’s gaze, seeing the rage in her eyes, and realized with dread that his overconfidence would be his downfall. Cowering in fear, he dropped to his knees as he begged Chiru to spare him. She looked at him with utter disgust, as if he were little more than a worm in the mud.

 

“Wait! I surren-”

 

His pleas fell on deaf ears, however, as he was sent flying several meters through the air and crashed against the viewport behind him, forming small cracks in the reinforced transparisteel. The force of the impact knocked the crime lord out, leaving him at her mercy as she raised her blade to deliver the killing blow.

 

In her wake she had left death and destruction on a scale only possible for a Force user of her power and skill, and the dark side only added fuel to the fire inside of her as she was determined to end this threat once and for all. If she didn’t stop him now, thousands more would die in a vicious gang war throughout Hutt Space. She would avenge the innocents who had lost their lives at the hands of this cruel man, no matter the cost. She would end this right here, right now.

 

Is this what I taught you?

 

Chiru halted as she heard the voice of Master Di, echoing as if he were trying to reach her from a great distance. The grief and anger she felt had blinded her during her rampage, but the sudden disruption made the Pantoran raise her gaze and see her reflection on the viewport ahead.

 

What horrified her the most was not the focused hate in her eyes, but the red rim in them that showed her what she would become if she let her emotions consume her entirely, which was enough to snap her out of the destructive behavior she had fallen into. She closed her eyes tightly, forcing the beast within her back into its cage, and shook her head vigorously to clear her thoughts. The blade of her lightsaber emitted a low hum as she lowered the weapon, while at the same time Master Di continued speaking with a calm tone.

 

There is darkness within you. Emotions trying to control your actions if you do not manage to control them. Remember my lessons.

 

She opened her eyes slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid of seeing the monster she could become. But the crimson edge in her eyes was gone now entirely, and she gasped in shock as her gaze met Master Di’s on the reflection ahead. And where she expected to see disappointment and disgust at what she had done, she instead saw sympathy and understanding for her predicament as his figure remained quiet and unmoving, yet the Nikto’s voice resounded in her mind again.

 

The future is uncertain, but the light will guide you.

 

She could have discarded all of this as a grief-induced hallucination, but there was no mistaking the presence of the Force in this matter. In her master’s eyes she found peace and comfort, just as she had for all these years. A soft smile appeared on her lips and tears began forming in her eyes once more. This was their farewell, they both knew it as Di’s figure became progressively more faint and his voice grew more distant.

 

There is no death, there is only the Force.

 

Master Di parted with these final words, his reflection disappearing completely as a single tear rolled down the Pantoran’s cheek.

 

“Goodbye, Master.”

 

She spoke with a heavy heart, her voice barely above a whisper. As her left hand reached to wipe off her remaining tears and her vision became clear once more, her gaze fell on the unconscious Pau’an lying in front of her. Sparing his life was not an easy decision, but she would choose mercy over hatred.

 

To Chiru it seemed as if the battle being fought around her had halted momentarily, or perhaps she had simply filtered out everything else that was going on. Whatever the case, the sight that met her eyes as she looked back up at the viewport could only be described as a total victory.

 

The fate of the Bloodclaw’s fleet was sealed as the four escort corvettes had been reduced to little more than flying hunks of metal. Plumes of thick, black smoke emerged from their engines, fires had broken out on their external decks, and fragments of debris fell from the crippled vessels. What little power they still had was not enough to escape the planet’s atmosphere, trapping them on Nar Haaska. The Marauder corvette was in no better shape. Half of its weapon emplacements had been disabled or destroyed. The rest fired wildly at the Master Chief as he flew in a circle around the larger ship, as if mocking the pirates that were now at his mercy.

 

But their efforts would turn out to be futile as Chiru made her way to the captain’s console. Pirate ships never had enough crews to run smoothly, and this was a weakness she knew just how to exploit. Seconds later the alarms blared throughout the ship announced the execution of the lockdown protocol. The remaining guns fell silent and the engines powered down. As all energy was diverted to the security systems the remaining blast doors sealed shut, locking the crewmen within their compartments. Pleased with the turn of events, the Pantoran moved to the next step of her plan as she hailed the Mandalorian in his ship.

 

The Marauder’s comms had been damaged during Jansek’s initial assault, but after a moment his hologram flickered to life in front of the Pantoran. The horizontal part of his visor met her gaze, and upon seeing she was unharmed his shoulders dropped slightly as he visibly relaxed.

 

“Well, you must have an interesting story,” he blurted out, his tone teasing despite the circumstances. “What’s your status?”

 

A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she saw his concern for her behind his sarcasm, but in a moment the warmth it brought her disappeared as she returned her focus to the mission.

 

“I have Vol Yumpag in custody and seized the bridge. The ship is in a full lockdown but the crews are still a threat. They won’t go down without a fight.”

 

She spoke with determination, the fire inside her under control but still burning. Looking past Karel’s hologram, she watched as his ship rose through the sky and disappeared into a cloud bank.

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Pirates aren’t among the wisest beings of the galaxy, that’s for sure,” Jansek replied. “But make them a good offer that doesn’t include them ending up on the wrong side of a blaster and they’ll take it before you can say parsec, especially if that offer comes from someone with more power than them.”

 

A dozen ships emerged from the clouds simultaneously, a mixture of Corellian light and medium freighters, their hulls adorned with the signet of the Besadii kajidic. At the head of this Hutt fleet a Shad’ruu war barge flew on the port side of the Gray Hawk. On its hull the symbol of the Besadii was painted in the same blue and yellow tones of Arok’s skin, leaving no doubt as to its allegiance. Simultaneous to its arrival, the Hutt flagship broadcast a transmission through the comms, such that there was no mistaking the reason for the ships’ presence on Nar Haaska.

 

“The full might of the Besadii will fall on all who oppose them! In the name of Grand Arok, surrender or be destroyed!”

Notes:

You thought I had abandoned this fic, didn't you? I can't blame you, I haven't updated in almost two years.

So first of all, I'm sorry for taking so long to update. The short explanation is that writer's block is a b*tch and real life kept me from writing.

The slightly longer story is that halfway through writing this chapter I realized I wasn't as invested in the plot as I was when I started it, so it really wore me down having to finish a story I admit I wasn't in love with. Combine that with being on my last year of university and you can see why I couldn't devote as much time to writing as I used to. This led me to reflect on things and led to some changes in my writing:

1. From now on I won't post each chapter subdivided in parts but as a full chapter and only when it's finished. This will give me the freedom to change things up if I need to and keep things fresh. All past chapters have been updated to fit this new format.

2. Updates will be less frequent, but I hope the extra time will both help improve my writing and to come up with more interesting plots. I have so many ideas for these characters and many more characters to come that I'm excited to introduce.

3. I will rewrite parts of my earlier chapters. This was the first piece of fanfiction I'd ever written and looking back at the earlier chapters I think there's a lot that could be improved. The story of the chapters will remain the same, but I'm hoping to make them more descriptive and immersing, and in general just better.

I would also like to thank my friend Jennari for her help finishing this chapter, bouncing ideas off each other and just being there for me when I needed her. I highly recommend you check out her works here on AO3. I'm already writing the next chapter and it's bound to be one of the most important of this story. See you soon!