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swanandphoenixsong · 2 years

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Aliit - Ao3

Chapter 10: Bounty Hunters

Series: Part 2 of the Star Wars - Nouveau AU series

Chapter Summary: Outside the Mandalore Sector, bounty hunters and agents of the criminal underworld make movements across Hutt Space.

Notes: This chapter begins in Boba Fett’s POV, then introduces two new POVs from original characters. It also begins right after Satine is recaptured and Saxon contracts the Krayt’s Claw bounty hunters– so, more non-linear storytelling. I also make several references to the Clone Wars episodes “Bounty” and “Eminence”. See the Endnotes for more details.

Translations of Mando’a: Kyr’tsad – Mando’a name for Death Watch; literally: "Death Society" Cuy’val dar – Mandalorian warriors who disappeared with Jango Fett between 32-30 BBY; meaning “those who no longer exist” Ba’jurne Kyr’stad Mando’ad – the manifesto shared by Death Watch recruiters, written by Tor Vizsla before 42 BBY; literally: “teachings of the Death Watch Mandalorians”

– –

19 BBY – Mos Eisley, Tatooine, Krayt’s Claw bounty hunters’ headquarters

After ending the call with Saxon, Boba had sat lower at his desk, irritation seething under his skin. He hadn’t been a part of defending the Hutts from Death Watch and those destructive Dathomirian Force-users, but he had heard about it extensively from Dengar, for days afterward. Latts had told him off more than once, tired of his griping. Embo was as antisocial as usual, if not more so. The latter two had spent more time away from Krayt’s Claw, Embo with his loyalty to Sugi’s Crew, and Latts off with that backstabbing Force-user Bossk had hired for the Quarzite job. Boba had never gotten her name, and just thinking about her ticked him off even more.

And now Bossk was insisting they work with Death Watch, those terrorist brutes who plagued Mandalorian Space like a cancer. Whatever money they had stolen from Sundari’s vaults couldn’t be worth the annoyance he’d suffer in their presence.

Just then, Bossk returned, pushing Aurra Sing into the dim light of their makeshift office. She had turned up on Tatooine around the same time he and Bossk set up Krayt’s Claw, but Boba had avoided working with her as much as possible. She was still ruffled from her stint in Oova IV’s prison, after her defeat by a Jedi more than a year ago. She shoved away from Bossk, crossing her arms tightly as she fumed.

“What’s this really about?” Boba asked, “and what’s Sing got to do with it?”

Bossk ignored him as he turned toward the disorganized stacks of flimsi piled on their neglected, malfunctioning holotable. “Did Saxon ssend over th’ detailss?”

Boba sighed, retrieving his holocomm and displaying the bounty contract they’d received just minutes ago. Sing scrutinized it as Boba and Bossk filled her in on what they knew of Death Watch’s schemes. Attached to the contract was a meager rundown of the situation on Mandalore. Vizsla was dead and former Prime Minister Almec was now the face of their takeover. The crime syndicate forces were still on their side, but considered untrustworthy. There was no mention of the Sith, but Boba doubted they weren’t still involved.

As for the contract itself, the full bounty would be awarded to them upon capture and delivery of the four cadets to Sundari, as well as the hefty bonus for killing Bo-Katan Kryze. Saxon had no stipulations for their compliance, just that they would be given travel clearance to Concordia, Mandalore’s moon, and supplied with any intel they had on the renegades’ whereabouts. It would be their job to set up the right crew, as well as acquiring transportation and weaponry. It wasn’t unusual conditions for a bounty hunt, but it would take a larger team, which meant reaching out to other syndicates or allies. Boba was not keen on trusting strangers to have his back, but he knew, on their own, Krayt’s Claw’s chances against trained and fully outfitted Mandalorian warriors would be slim.

Yet, Sing seemed just as interested as Bossk had, smirking as if she thought they’d forgotten her betrayal on Florrum.

Bossk turned toward him then, having given up looking through the files. “Where’ss Jango’s bookss?” he asked directly.

Boba raised an eyebrow skeptically, leaning forward to pull open the slightly busted bottom drawer of his desk, taking out a handful of books and pamphlets, aged and practically falling apart. Bossk spread them out on the desk, pulling out the weathered, blue and gray manifesto Jango once stole from a Kyr’tsad recruiter. Boba remembered his father showing it to him, before often throwing it against a wall, upset by the treachery of Vizsla’s schemes, or the distorted misrepresentations of his ancestral traditions. Boba hadn’t picked it up in years, having little care for the convoluted politics of a culture he hardly claimed as his own.

His father had tried to instill in him the honor of his heritage, while the Cuy’val dar had taught the earliest clones their fighting styles, and they picked it up twice as fast as he did. Even after the Cuy’val dar were suspended, he could never dispel the resentment he carried toward the clones. Even when his father insisted Boba was his legacy, he couldn’t help focusing on his shortcomings, especially after his father’s death, and even more so after he failed to take revenge on his Jedi killers.

Boba shook his head, breaking his reverie as he stood and braced his hands against the desk, while Bossk began to speak.

Bossk slammed down the Ba’jurne Kyr’stad Mando’ad pamphlet, pointing at it emphatically. “Before Pre Viszla led Death Watch, Tor Viszla wass their leader, and thiss bookk describess how he led th’ Death Watch to ssurvive in th’ shadowss – before Jango finally kkilled him, little more than twenty yearss ago.”

“We can assume then,” Sing continued, “that Pre Viszla followed in Tor’s footsteps, learning from his tactics and spreading the same lies he did.”

“Now, Saxon sayss Pre Vizsla’s dead, and we know that th’ Sith brought th’ Death Watch and th’ crime families together for their own purposes. That meanss change is coming, not only for Mandalorianss, but alsso for th’ criminal underworld. Jango would rather uss be prepared against any opposition, esspecially th’ enemies of his people.”

“Well, he’s not around anymore, is he?” Boba replied sarcastically.

Sing made a noncommittal sound, picking up the pamphlet and shuffling through its pages. “Jango may not be around, but it’s not a bad idea. By working with Saxon now, we can avoid trouble later, and use Death Watch’s resources to our advantage.”

Boba grit his teeth. “We do fine on our own. I want nothing to do with the Mandalore Sector. And last I checked, this is my syndicate.”

Bossk looked toward Boba pointedly. “We owe it to Jango, to do thiss in his sstead.”

It was a half-baked plan riddled with unknowns, but the both of them seemed adamant enough that Boba knew arguing would be pointless. He let out a sound of frustration, flopping back down in his seat. Sing grinned at his exasperation, and Boba wanted nothing more than to throw her back out on the sunsbeaten sands of the Dune Sea.

He deliberated over their odds. By his estimate, they’d be up against the Nite Owl renegades – making up a force of at least a dozen soldiers, even if he didn’t include the cadets. Which, considering the trouble he’d had with that bratty hostage girl on Quarzite, he really should. Besides that, who knew what other resources they might have, or if they wouldn’t rally other Mandalorian clans to their cause? Could they truly rival Death Watch exiles and get an upper hand on Saxon, all while securing four rebellious runaways?

Bossk seemed to pick up on his doubts. “Don’ be sso pessimistic, Boss.” He hissed with a grin towards Sing, “We know ssomeone all-too-willing to hunt down pessky Mandalorianss.”

Boba had grabbed his helmet and followed Bossk and Sing to the Mos Eisley Cantina, where their contact had agreed to meet with them. It seemed that they just happened to already be in a nearby system, but Boba suspected luck had nothing to do with it. He groaned inwardly as they stepped inside, faced by the rank smell of spilt spirits, smuggled death-sticks, and faint wafts of spice. As slave-girls danced and the kloo-band played, he pulled on his helmet and the bounty hunters made their way to a secluded alcove to await their anticipated allies.

Some time later, after a song or two had played and Sing’s blue-tinted drink had been refilled twice, Bossk got their attention with the words, “There they are.” The lead latecomer was a yellow Trandoshan male with brown mottling, who Boba might’ve met before, if he cared to remember all the ‘friends’ Bossk had introduced him to over the past months. He was followed by a towering red-scaled Trandoshan female, with striking yellow eyes and bold, black stripes down her face and arms; her mismatched, gold-painted armor was adorned with a varactyl’s vibrant, feathery mane, Wookiee braids, and a necklace of various tooth and claw trophies. Bossk waved them over and Sing drained the remainder of her drink with a smirk.

Bossk stood and grasped the arm of the yellow Trandoshan. “Ramy,” he hissed, almost brotherly, before turning back toward them. “Come meet our merry band of bounty hunterss.”

Ramy acknowledged them briefly, opting to stand beside Bossk while the other sat before them. “And thiss is Koukussa Varas,” Bossk continued, “She once had a reputation for hunting Mandalorianss. Castus introduced us yearss ago, on Vlemoth Port. Nowadayss she’s employed by th’ guild on Nar Shaddaa, to hunt down debtorss and bounty hunterss who don’ fulfill their contractss.”

Varas grinned widely, showcasing her razor-sharp teeth, and Boba scowled, knowing how inferior he looked next to Sing and the Trandoshans. All of them were ridiculously tall compared to his teenage human stature, not to mention their nonhuman characteristics. He was at least glad for his helmet, hiding his boyish features from the menacing reptilian.

“Varas,” Bossk continued his introductions, “We are of th’ Krayt’s Claw ssyndicate. You already know of Aurra, yess? But Boba there actss as our guild leader.”

She barely glanced over him. “Aurra Sing,” Varas hissed gleefully, “I wass beginning to thinkk I’d heard th’ lasst of you, what with th’ storiess Ohnaka’s pirates told.” Her voice was raspy and dissonant, making Boba wish his helm had a proper sonic nullifier.

“Not a chance,” Sing laughed, raising her drink as Ramy ordered another round.

Bossk enlightened the newcomers with a brief overview of Death Watch’s victories over the crime families and their invasion on Mandalore, then explained the details of the contract issued to them by Gar Saxon. Varas bristled with hunger in her eyes at Vizsla’s demise, and Ramy seemed excited at the prospect of hunting down four escaped cadets.

“Sso,” Bossk asked then, “what do you ssuppose?”

Varas gave a pleased hiss before she spoke. “I do appreciate th’ opportunity to lead ssuch a hunt. But first, I musst return to Nar Shaddaa to ssettle with my employerss.”

“Can’t you just comm them?” Boba snapped, his impatience festering. Sing gave him a disparaging glare, which he ignored.

Varas growled sharply, looking toward Bossk. “Th’ guild’ss personnel officerss don’ take kkindly to ssudden absences. Besidess, I thought you wanted my assistance.”

“It dependss. Do you have th’ resourcess?” he asked.

She nodded curtly. “They can be arranged, if we take th’ job.”

“We can sstop by Hutta,” Ramy chimed in, “to pickk up Smug and Krix.”

Bossk gave a throaty chuckle. “Where would we rendezvouss with your forcess?”

“Klatooine. I’ll ssend th’ coordinatess after we leave for Nal Hutta.” Her eyes glinted in the dim light as she measured Boba and Sing with her zealous gaze. “Sso,” she raised her hand between them, comprised of four clawed, curling digits, compared to Bossk and Ramy’s robust three, “do we have a deal?”

Boba held back a sound of disgust. Sing moved first, securing their agreement with her own pale, spindly fingered hand, while Varas grinned like the Tooka who’d caught the bulabird.

They left soon after, her impish delight still haunting the back of his mind.

Back at their headquarters as the first sun had set beyond the sands, while Bossk led the way inside, Boba stopped on the threshold, turning toward Sing as he threw down his helmet.

“What was that?” He snarled at her, “Who do you think you are, making deals for my syndicate?”

She rolled her eyes. “You hesitated, just like before.”

He scowled, his fists shaking at his sides. Bossk came up behind him then, having realized their absence. “Have Sing sign Saxon’s contract,” Boba ordered them, “As far as I’m concerned, this is your hunt, not mine.” He turned away, retreating inside before they could say anything more.

Boba was fed up, already dreading the innumerable ways this job could go wrong.

– –

19 BBY – Bilbousa Bazaar, Nal Hutta

Hutta was a noxious, scum-ridden swamp, aptly fitting for its namesake. Spacers and vagrants browsed Bilbousa Bazaar like scavenger-birds, with shifty eyes and sticky fingers, eager to nab some gear for a cheap deal, or have a drink among fellow scoundrels and miscreants at the saloon. Smug and Krix weren’t much different, but there were other reasons a curious, streetwise Twi’lek might seek their confidence.

Trysor Dwyn was a charmer, a gunslinger, and a pilot, all-in-one. She didn’t like bounty hunters and smugglers much, but she didn’t mind meddling in their businesses. So, she sat with Smug and Krix, letting them eye her enticing, freckled yellow skin, bared above her neck and down her arms, as well as her attractive figure, only just masked by her form-fitting street-clothes. While they ogled and drank, she asked them her questions, and gleaned more than they had intended to reveal.

As far as new information, she had learned they had a job with a fellow bounty hunting Trandoshan named Koukussa Varas, and it was sure to be a thrilling chase, not to mention the big payoff. Aside that, they’d be reuniting with Ramy and Bossk, and were animated at the prospect of a classic, space-faring Trandoshan hunt, assuredly with a comparable crew to match. If what they said was true, and Varas was as deadly as she surmised from their regard for her, then their information could be valuable to her Core World employers.

“So, what would the hunt entail?” she asked, toying with the last dregs of her raider-brewed spotchka. It wasn’t as palatable as the farmers’ blend, but the saloon’s owner seemed to favor its cheaper price.

Krix grinned sharply. “Varas’s crew is on Klatooine, and she’s ssure to hire more hunterss,” He admitted, turning toward Smug. “What wass Varas known for hunting, backk in th’ day?”

“Mandalorianss.” Smug proudly boasted, taking another swig of his drink.

Trysor looked up at him skeptically, her interest certainly piqued. With the gossip of Death Watch’s subjugation over the crime syndicates, and the speculation of an undisclosed usurper of power on Mandalore, it seemed that trouble was afoot for Mandalorian Space, and it would have rippling ramifications throughout the Outer Rim. This, along with intel from previous excursions during the past week or so, would add up to the complex picture that was the current state of the criminal underworld.

It was time she got back to her ship and updated her crewmates on the situation.

“Well, this was fun, boys,” she said, stretching as she stood, her bare midriff catching their gazes. “It’s too bad you’ll be so far off, but good luck with your hunt.”

“Oh, come on now,” Smug jeered, his wandering hand extended toward her. “One more drinkk–”

In a spur of the moment, a vibroshiv was struck down between them, puncturing the wooden table. The weapon was wielded by a muscular, sallow green-skinned Twi’lek, fashioned as a fellow bounty hunter and brandishing a threatening smile.

“These two bothering you, Dwyn?” he teased in his heavy Ryl accent.

“Not at all,” she placated him, throwing an apologetic gesture toward the wary bartender eyeing the slight damage to his furniture.

“Aw, come off it, Hyde,” Krix responded, humoring her colleague. “It’s not like she’s interessted in you anywayss.”

“What’s this I hear about a hunt?” Hyde asked, ignoring his jibe as Trysor twisted his shiv upward and fiddled with it absentmindedly.

“I ssuppose you could tag along to Klatooine,” Krix offered, “Varas may even allow you to join in on th’ hunt. And we could–”

“–put in a good word for you,” Smug followed, “That iss, if Trysor comess too.”

She laughed jovially, truly amused by their persistence. “I’ll consider it.” She turned toward Hyde with a crooked smile, handing back his vibroshiv. Then she wrapped her jangling scarf closer around her shoulders and tossed a few creds on the table for her bill. She waved at her scaly companions as Hyde led her away, and she suppressed the urge to hightail it back to the spaceport.

The Golden Wingmaw, an Anaxes Shipyards light freighter, had been supplied and outfitted, as per Republic Naval Intelligence regulations for a Covert Operations unit, such as theirs. Although Trysor was assigned as an acting field agent and stealth operative, she was also the ship’s usual pilot, and among its crew, she was the most knowledgeable of its specs and modifications.

She boarded the ship, Hyde heading to the workshop while she immediately went for the shared crew’s quarters in order to grab her dark longcoat – concealing the bare skin she had revealed for the purpose of peeling intel from those slippery-scaled and hard-headed Trandoshans. She fastened it tight around her, finally releasing the buried tension she had held behind a taunting smirk and her veiled scrutiny. She did enjoy her work – the mystery, the intrigue, the secrets – but she was always thankful to return to the solace of her ship, where no one hungered for her beauty or objectified her species and gender.

She took a steadying breath and left the bunk-room, trailing a gloved hand fondly over the curved metallic wall. The crews’ quarters weren’t far from the engines, the subtle hum of them thrumming up her legs as she walked. She could hear faint tinkering and accompanying droid-speak coming from the workshop, where her crewmates awaited her.

Captain Jaromir Coburn, as Special Agent in Charge for the CO unit, was not quite the formidable, seasoned soldier one might expect to lead RNI’s investigations in the Outer Rim. However, with his discipline and honesty, he had earned the crew’s loyalty, without any influence from his father, the veteran Admiral Barton Coburn, of the Galactic Republic Navy. Jaromir, by contrast, was barely in his thirties, Trysor guessed, his handsome, human face hinting at the carefree starfighter pilot he could have been, had he not inherited his father’s harsh demeanor. He stood just inside the entrance of the workshop, his arms crossed, and the crew’s faithful astromech whirring at his side.

JR-89 was a R4-series astromech droid that dutifully followed Capt. Coburn everywhere he went, thus warranting the affectionate nickname, “Junior”. The red and gold-plated droid had previously served aboard Adm. Coburn’s Venator-class Star Destroyer within the Open Circle Fleet, before the Admiral was reassigned under General Plo Koon’s command. Shortly thereafter, Junior was issued to Jaromir when he was promoted to the rank of SAC. Thus, the droid had been upgraded with transceiver and courier modifications to manage their advanced database of encrypted information.

Focused over the holotable was her adoptive human sister, Veda Nerys, psychoanalyst and handler for their so-called CO-Burn unit. They had first met during one of Veda’s rebellious excursions down into the shady lower levels of Coruscant, back when Trysor had been a street orphan, struggling to survive all on her own. As the Nerys family were well-known for supporting relief campaigns in the Republic Senate, they had subsequently adopted Trysor, but she had suspected their true purpose was to distract Veda from her reckless impulses. Nonetheless, they were inseparable, whether they were sneaking out on grand adventures or attending glamorous banquets and galas. Even though she had been expected to follow in her family’s footsteps, Veda had never cared for the encumbered, sluggish world of politics, and would not be convinced otherwise. Instead, when the Clone Wars broke out, the two sisters had enlisted in the RNI and were hastily trained for their respective fields in Covert Ops.

The last and most recent addition to their unit was Hideric Ertay, or ‘Hyde’, contracted as a hired gun to replace their former weapons specialist, and acting undercover as a bounty hunter at her behest. While serving in the Twi'lek Resistance, he’d learned a resourceful arsenal of strategic stealth tactics under General Cham Syndulla. When he decided to leave his homeworld and dedicate himself to the Republic, his skills and experience afforded him his position in their unit. Having only left Ryloth recently, he was unaccustomed to their fast-paced space-faring lifestyle, but he was pragmatic and adaptable, quickly learning his role and gaining the respect of their contacts. Although Trysor had been relieved to have another nonhuman on the team, their interactions outside undercover espionage had been stiff and precarious, her flighty, playful nonchalance opposing his no-nonsense professionalism.

“Welcome back,” Veda greeted her enthusiastically as she entered, Junior echoing the sentiment as he spun on his wheels. Trysor patted him as Veda pulled up their research, connecting her recordings with files on Varas and her Bounty Hunters’ Guild employers, as well as their growing array of information on the so-called “Shadow Collective”, comprised of Death Watch, Black Sun, the Pykes, and the Hutt families, and led by the outcast Sith, Maul and Savage Opress.

“How’s it lookin’?” Trysor asked, leaning against the holotable and sparing a glance at their enigmatic leader.

Capt. Coburn sighed, shaking his head. “It’s good work, but I don’t know if we have reason enough to follow-up on Death Watch’s activities.”

Hyde smacked a hand on the holotable. “Isn’t it enough we know the crime syndicates are making a move on the Mandalore Sector? If they’re invading on Mandalorian planets–”

“The Republic has no jurisdiction in Mandalorian Space without the involvement of the Separatists. Besides, we don’t even know if Varas and the other hunters have actually been hired to contend with Mandalorians. We can’t run the risk of intruding upon neutral territories, even just to confirm our suspicions.”

“But they’re still in Hutt Space, for the time being,” Veda added, “we could take up their offer– head to Klatooine and gather more information?”

Coburn pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re already on thin ice with our inquiries to this alliance between the crime syndicates. If we impose on their feeble invitation and join in on this hunt, we may risk taking on more than we can handle alone.”

They went silent for the moment, stumped by their predicament.

Just then, Junior made an alarmed trill, catching their attention.

“Hang on,” said Veda, “I had Junior probing the holonet for outgoing transmissions from Mandalorian Space. We had almost missed this one, since it was encrypted and sent directly to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant–”

Junior began playing the holo-recording, displaying Duchess Satine on Mandalore:

“This is a message for Obi-Wan Kenobi. I’ve lost Mandalore. My people have been massacred, and Almec is now the Prime Minister. I can’t explain everything now, but Almec has the support of the crime families.

“Obi-Wan, I need your help.”

The recording ended as the Duchess was surrounded by former Death Watch soldiers, now sporting Maul’s colors.

“Kriff,” Trysor muttered, her lekku twitching with emotion.

“Well, there’s our proof,” Hyde said, his expression grim.

Capt. Coburn’s gaze narrowed, his stance rigid and restrained. “This changes nothing,” he whispered, “The Jedi will have given the message to the Senate, and they will be deciding whether or not to intervene. The higher ups would never approve of submitting our intel to sway the Senate’s decision.”

“As if they would care for our opinion anyway.” Trysor scoffed.

“So we take it to the Neutral Systems,” Hyde argued, “Surely they’d want to protect the Mandalore Sector.”

Coburn eyed him skeptically. “Again, this is outside our jurisdiction, and taking any action within the Neutral Systems would be a direct violation of our orders. What happens when the Republic discovers our interference?”

“We can’t just stand back and do nothing,” Trysor pleaded.

“It may be a longshot,” said Veda, “but we do have allies on neutral worlds. Taris would be our best bet, since it isn’t far from Mandalorian Space, and they’ve coordinated with both the Republic Senate and the New Mandalorians before.”

Coburn ran a hand over his face, nodding begrudgingly. “Very well. Draft a cover job for our activities and begin making the necessary arrangements.”

Junior chirruped cheerfully and Veda smiled affably at the droid. “Ha, between the two of us, it’ll almost be too easy, won’t it, Junior?”

Coburn chuckled darkly, seemingly unconvinced by their confidence. “I’ll look into current military campaigns along our route. In the meantime, I suppose we’ll make our way to Klatooine. Hyde, notify our Trandoshan friends that you intend to take up their offer. Trysor, prepare for departure and stay alert, we don’t need any surprises from the locals.”

She nodded, avoiding Hyde’s questioning glance as he followed her to the cockpit. He contacted Krix and Smug, while she relaxed into the pilot’s seat and started the computations for trajectory, occasionally looking upwards, as if she could see the stars beyond the foul, gas-stained atmosphere.

– –

Elsewhere on Hutta, Smug and Krix weren’t the only bounty hunters to hear of the impending, portentous rendezvous on Klatooine. However, this bounty hunter had no interest in joining the perilous misadventures of the rancorous and vile Koukussa Varas. The Twi’lek tapped her fingers on the bounty-board kiosk, considering what she was prepared to risk in following up on her suspicions. She closed the missive, moving on to public postings. Her right-side lek twitched in irritation, the offered jobs failing to meet her expectations. She sighed, skipping through until she glimpsed a familiar face among the wanted smugglers list. Andraste Zhan grinned, claiming the mark and leaving the kiosk, tucking the dispensed bounty puck into her pocket.

Andra then moved throughout the streets of Jiguuna, waving at slum orphans who recognized her. She had been like them once, born as a slave and hounded by the volatile nature of a demanding master. But several years ago, when the debt-ridden shopkeep had learned of a bounty for his head, he hoped to sell her off to the local Hutt crime lord as a ripe, young slave dancer, in order to earn his protection. Instead, she’d escaped her bonds, killed the bastard and collected on his bounty herself.

Now she was free, running bounties and taking odd jobs between Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. Never standing still, boarding dingy shuttles at the meager, grimy spaceport, and peering at every passing vagrant, her other hand resting near the concealed blaster at her hip. She wasn’t any double-dealing scoundrel with a target on her back, nor had she yet earned a respected, formidable reputation either. But just because she was some sultry Twi’lek with sour, green-yellow skin and alluring blue eyes, didn’t mean she wouldn’t stand her ground. She was determined to prove her worth, and never be held back by the circumstances of her past.

She just had to keep moving, heedless of the incessant, gnawing bitterness that plagued her wherever she went.

Endnotes: Ramy, Krix, and Smug were from episodes “Padawan Lost” and “Wookie Hunt” and were briefly seen in “Friends and Enemies.”

If you’ve read my fanfic “Jedi Scholar”, then you’ll recognize Veda from the Maiden’s Sanctuary. There’s some more information about her in my “Original Characters” at https://archiveofourown.org/works/30579254/chapters/75763145.

As with previous chapters, original characters from this chapter will also be posted there.

#Star Wars #Star Wars Legends #Boba Fett #Bossk #original characters #fanfic #fanfiction #Swan's creations #Nouveau AU

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rinrinp42 · 3 years

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For Day 4 of @jangobiweek, Forced to Work Together. Have an ancient Sith wrecking Palpatine’s plans by invading and Mando’ade collectively going “kriff those Sith in particular” and fighting back. Also fighting with Jedi. Because Jedi vs Sith is, like, obvious. Also, also, call back to my own fic Bring You Golden Rings (Only Want Your Hand To Hold) for some good good Courtship shenanigans (i.e. references to what I did for courtships in that)

Obi-Wan swung his lightsaber, reflecting back a blaster shot just as another skimmed just below the arc of his lightsaber towards their enemies.

He threw the Force forward to push back a number of the enemy as his companion turned on his jetpack and flew up to rain literal fire down on their enemies.

Obi-Wan sank deeper into the Force, his Battle Meditation guiding him. A distant part of him mused that the Bond between him and his companion negating the principals of beskar that aided in Mando’ade being such formidable foes to Force Sensitives was interesting and he wondered if Tarre Vizsla had looked into it in his time.

The rest of him jumped after his Mando’ad, Jango catching him and swinging him around and down into a new patch of Eternal Empire soldiers. Jango landing shortly after, Obi-Wan having covered him.

The two of them were making quick work towards one of the Sith that was leading this group. As it were, they were farther along than any of the others: soldiers, Mando’ade, Jedi, combined pairs and groups.

Jango’s vicious focus did not distract Obi-Wan, just as the cool logic Obi-Wan slipped into did not hinder Jango.

They fit together, two pieces of a puzzle, and rose to even higher heights as warriors.

And they were able to take down more of the Eternal Empire that had invaded than most others, only a few other pairs or groups able to keep up.

Later, when the Empire had been rousted from the planet, Obi-Wan fell from his Battle Meditation and Jango caught him as he stumbled.

“Di’kut Jetii,” Jango grumbled.

“Mhm, it keeps us going longer,” Obi-Wan replied.

He didn’t have to see Jango’s face to know the deadpan look the other was giving him.

“If everyone else would just-”

“Jango,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“If you and I can do it, I don’t see why no one else can.”

Anakin giggled from the tent where he was helping Shmi and Bant with the injured.

Obi-Wan was happy that the Council had agreed to retrieve as many of those who his Padawan had known back on Tatooin when the Empire first invaded. With the death of the Chancellor so soon after Qui-Gon, it was good that Anakin didn’t have to worry about his mother dying during this war. To lose another parental figure would be devastating for the boy.

“Can you at least wear some kriffing armor?” Jango complained, “if no one else is going to step up, then let me not have to worry that my partner is going to fall to a stray shot.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to deny the need again when Bo-Katan spoke up from where one of the medics was wrapping her hand.

“Didn’t my sister give you beskar’gam when you and she were running around?”

Jango, his buy’ce having been pulled off by Shmi as the woman examined the two of them (no longer trusting them to speak up of injuries after that one time), glared at Bo-Katan. Something more than his usual distaste for Kyr’stad in general and Bo-Katan in particular in his gaze.

Arla, who was rebuilding her relationship with Jango still, snorted from where Bant was wrapping her head.

“I bet it’s not sized right; they’d need an Armorer. Jang’ika, just give him a secondary weapon to his jetii’kad,” she paused, almost tilting her head but stopping the movement at a Look from Bant, “maybe start with a dagger. That way he can throw it like he drops cloaks.”

Bo-Katan snarled at her.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows as Shmi turned her attention on him.

“Is this another one of those things those two are competing about?” he asked Jango, his voice low.

Anakin giggled again at his Master.

Jango felt his face heat, unsure how to explain that the two were fighting over which of their siblings was a better match for Obi-Wan.

Though… Arla had a better point about Jango and Obi-Wan complementing each over and covering each other’s weaknesses. In his opinion.

Obi-Wan’s gaze stayed on him for a moment longer before he hummed and leaned more heavily on Jango.

Jango wished he could help Obi-Wan more during battle, but the fight when the Sith were there was always two-fold. The physical that Obi-Wan and he worked like they were two parts of a whole together; and a Force battle that Obi-Wan had to fight without aid from Jango.

But he could be there for him after, guard his back even when they slept. As he had since Obi-Wan had invited him to share his quarters.

“How long have you been doing this An’ika?” Jango asked the Padawan, needing a distraction.

Anakin pouted, “not that long.”

“He’s about due to go rest. Do his meditation,” Shmi told him.

Jango nodded and leveled a Look he hoped was as effective as what Jas’buir had used on him had been.

Anakin sighed and gave his mother a betrayed look. Then he turned tooka eyes onto Obi-Wan, hoping his Master would let him stay and keep helping.

“If you get through it with no distractions, maybe Jango and I will show you a few things,” Obi-Wan told him.

Anakin’s eyes widened and he all but skipped off to meditate.

“Do you truly think you are in any position to show him how to fight?” Shmi raised one doubting eyebrow at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan grinned, “if we word it right, we can get him started on something on slow speed.”

And then he looked back at Jango, “and maybe we’ll tire him out enough that he’ll actually sleep in.”

Jango had a moment where he could imagine it. The two of them awake and enjoying the peace of the morning before Whirlwind Anakin awoke. Sharing warm drinks, maybe some flatcakes.

(maybe he’d find the words he never could, the words that Jaster would have known with how the man had been a poet and historian alongside being a warrior. Jango wasn’t good with words, and he was sure that his little metal workings didn’t say what he meant correctly to Obi-Wan)

One of the other soldiers, one from Melida/Daan with dark brown hair, cackled.

Obi-Wan sent a pebble at him with a hissed “Nield!”

Jango had no idea what that was about.

#My writing #jangobiweek2021 #jangobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #bo-katan kryze #arla fett #competing over who's sibling obi should date #nield #nield of course has that Insider Knowledge and knows that ani's accidently cockblocking #can't have a private convo when ani's ready to drag you to face the day #and both are weak to his tooka eyes in the morning #after caffeine they can resist

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mandalorianbrainweasel · 4 years

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Tagging @crispyjenkins because we’ve been talking about stuff along these lines.

Warning for discussions of death, grief, and possible unhealthy coping mechanisms in regard to both?

🤩😎😭

Okay so. There is no way this is canon and I’m aware, but it’s a good story idea.

Mandalorians are family oriented as a cultural rule. The Mand’alor is both priest and general, but there’s a high probability that they’re a parent, too. They will be marching not only with their people but their family too. This would include any grown children.

They have to treat all their soldiers logically, though. I’m quite sure the culture was a meritocracy just based on what we know of both Haat Mando’ade and Kyr’Stad (which reminds me, I have a post to write about that). So, positioning soldiers where they’ll best be in battle no matter personal relationships, and not being able to mourn deaths until there is an empty moment.

Compartmentalization is one thing. But it’s also a possibility that there’s a ritual, magical or metaphorical (which really are almost the same thing in the best ways), that can separate the Mand’alor from their aliit. You take a shard of your soul, of your heart, and put it in a family member. Either the family member returns it when they return to your side, or you open yourself up to mourning the next time you are able to do so. The shard returns with all your grief.

Jango Fett had millions of children to send to war and there was no way he could be entirely uneffected. He was Mand’alor, even then when he would not hear the title and when no one knew which way he was marching to follow him. So he made sure that each little embryo would have a shard, to preemptively shred his soul for when his children fell in battle.

Eventually there wasn’t much left, he felt, and so it was true.

And when he died, there would be no one to mourn them like a buir would their ade. And it won’t be until all of them are gone ahead that he can march with them.

#mandalorians #jango fett #mandalor #my meta #mando meta #star wars meta #speculation #mando culture #mandalorian magic

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colehasapen · 3 years

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(ONE SHOT) be'sol STAR WARS

(belated) Whumptober no.25 - I Think I'll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks

Comfortember no.4 - Anxiety

Jango’s not even a year out of slavery when he finally tracks down Tor Vizsla. The chakaaryc hut’uun hadn’t made much of an attempt to hide himself or his forces at first, not until Jango had started picking his way through his terrorist cells with the clear intention of going after Vizsla himself. Vizsla was a coward, he always had been, so when he had heard that Jango had resurfaced from his enslavement and was coming after him, he had turned and fled, sending commandos and assassins after Jango to hopefully kill him before he tracked him down. Vizsla had been trying to stay one step ahead of him, but Jango has contacts and a long reach, and plenty of stubborn determination.

He has a single-minded focus on Vizsla, to enact justice for the slaughter of his people and see Vizsla pay for his part in the treachery. Obi-Wan’s been a great help to Jango’s mission; his ad is smart, and charming, and very unassuming. The adiik is able to swindle information out of a target without the sentient being any wiser, and slip away without gaining suspicion, because who would suspect a tiny slip of a child with fluffy hair and big eyes? He’s a quick study, and soaks up any lesson Jango offers him, and he quickly surpasses Jango’s own slicing skills. Obi-Wan is eager to help, happy to please, and even if he had moral arguments against what Jango was doing, he followed behind him loyally.

The Jetiise didn’t know what they had thrown away, but Jango isn’t about to alert them of it. He won’t be losing anyone else - not to the Jetiise and not to Kyr’tsad . Obi-Wan is his now, and Jango won’t be giving him up until his ad is strong enough to face whatever the world throws at him.

They track Vizsla to Tatooine, to a small port where he and some of his commandos were celebrating a successful bounty. Anger and hatred burns in his stomach at the sight of the ship that had been docked. It tastes like bile in his mouth as he stares at the crude paint job and the emblem of Death Watch emblazoned on the hull. It’s Jaster’s Legacy ; the AIAT/i that Jango had owned, and Jaster before him as well. It’s the ship Jango had called home since he was eight years old and freshly orphaned; he had grown up on it when he and Jas’buir weren’t staying at the Haat’ade compound in Keldabe. To see it defiled by the very people behind the death of his Buire and aliit makes Jango’s fury ignite like a supernova.

The Kyr’stad hutuun’le don’t know what hits them. Jango plows through Vizsla’s badly trained guards like a rampaging kyrat dragon, Obi-Wan watching his back like a shriek-hawk and shooting the stragglers that slip through Jango’s guard in places that would keep them down but not kill them. His hatred burns like fire in his veins, but every fallen Kyr’tsad commando still doesn’t lessen the heat or the ringing in his ears. Jaster’s Legacy still accepts Jango’s codes, likely the result of arrogance, and it stops any alarms from going off and alerting anyone to his presence as Jango tears through the drunken aruetiise .

He finds Vizsla in what had once been Jaster’s room. Jango hadn’t been able to bring himself to claim it after Jaster’s death, so it had stayed the way Jaster had left it up until Galidraan. Vizsla had poisoned the room with his presence; all of his Buir ’s datapads and charts were gone, replaced instead with even more of Vizsla’s crest. There are two naked Humans on the bed, and half armoured Vizsla lounging between them. All three of them freeze when Jango bursts in, westars drawn, but Vizsla is still a trained ramikad, despite being a traitorous coward without any kind of honour, and he’s rolling to his feet almost immediately, throwing his bed partners aside to lunge for the hilt of the dha’kad laying on the shelf nearest to him.

Seconds after Vizsla’s fingers touch the Darksaber, however, the hilt is pulled away by an invisible hand, flying past Jango to slam into Ob’ika’s outstretched palm.

Smart kid, using the Force to take Vizsla’s greatest weapon from him, and effectively drawing everything to a stand-still.

Vizsla’s pale eyes dart between Jango and the boy who had disarmed him, calculating. “Jango Fett.” The chakaar says slowly, and Jango’s fingers tighten around his blasters. “I see you’re still alive. How disappointing .”

Under his helmet, Jango bares his teeth, “Try harder next time, hut’uun .”

Vizsla chuckles, but his eyes shimmer with rage at the insult, “I’ll be sure of it.” He sneers, “I see you’ve taken after Mereel and picked up a mongrel yourself.’

“You don’t get to talk about my Buir .” Jango tells him with a snarl, “And if you touch my ad , I’ll separate you from your hands.”

“You wouldn’t challenge an unarmed man.” Vizsla says with a slimy chuckle that has anger trickling down his spine, and Jango bites off the snippy retort he wants to make about what he’d do with Vizsla’s arms and how unarmed he could make him. “Mereel must have taught you about the laws of challenge.”

Jango growls, “What would you know about proper challenges! You’re a hut’uun who can’t win a battle without cowardly tricks!”

Vizsla bares his teeth, pale eyes dark with sick amusement and hatred, “Then challenge me, boy .” He mocks, “Challenge me, and let the Manda decide the outcome.”

Snarling, Jango sheaths his blasters, “Meet me on the field, Tor be Vizsla, and face me like a Mando’ad or be named dar’Manda .”

“I’d need my baskar’gam first.” Vizsla says blandly, and Jango glowers at him.

“Then get to it.”

“ Buir .” Beside him, Obi-Wan speaks up, but Jango doesn’t risk taking his eyes off of Vizsla as the man methodically, and slowly, puts on his beskar’gam . “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“It’s fine, Ob’ika.” Jango assures him through clenched teeth, “I won’t lose.”

“That’s not-”

“What of my Darksaber?” Vizsla interrupts, tilting his head, but even with his buy’ce on, Jango knows the man is watching Obi-Wan with disturbing intensity.

Jango bristles, stepping in front of the boy and setting his shoulders in a silent threat, “What about it?” He barks, “You were disarmed - you lost the right to wield it.”

“ Jango- ” Obi-Wan’s voice shakes nervously.

Something in Vizsla’s body language changes, and it’s enough of a warning that has Jango going for his blasters again. He doesn’t get the chance to unsheath them, instead something rams into his side with enough force to throw Jango towards the wall. He hits the metal hard enough to rattle him in his armour and make his ears ring.

Disorientated, Jango almost misses the haunting sound of the Darksaber activating, followed by the noise of a small explosion and ringing screams. Jango stumbles to his feet, HUD glitching, and he has to pull his buy’ce off to see what is happening, westars in hand.

Vizsla is gone, his bed partners huddled in the corner, cowering with fear, and Obi-Wan is picking himself up off the floor. The Darksaber is in his small hands, black blade humming, and there’s singed marks on his flight suit. Wide blue eyes meet Jango’s gaze, and the boy looks close to tears, blood on his temple and scrapes littering his freckled cheeks.

“You let him go?” Jango’s voice trembles when he speaks, rage crawling up his throat. He had been so close. So close to getting vengeance for his Buire and aliit . He could have won, he would have killed Vizsla, and he could still catch him if he hurried -

Obi-Wan sways, face chalky, and any thought of revenge melts away as the dha’kad deactivates and the teenager crumbles. Jango darts forward, feeling anxiety rise in place of his anger, catching his ad’ika before he hits the floor. Were there injuries he couldn’t see? Obi-Wan hadn’t had any beskar between him and the explosion. Shaking hands trace across the boy’s thin body, looking for injuries or blood, but the only wound he can see is the cut on his temple - though that doesn’t discount internal bleeding.

Could his ad be dying in his arms? He can’t help but remember holding Jaster in this exact same way, watching the life leave his eyes - would he have to see that happen to Obi-Wan too?

A pale hand reaches up, catching Jango’s chest plate, and the boy clings to him. “I’m sorry.” His ad’ika says shakily, voice slicing through the bubbling panic at the possibility of losing another person he loves, and Jango stares down at the pale face. “I didn’t want to lose you.” Obi-Wan sniffles, wide eyes haunted, “If you had fought him here, you would have died. He was never going to fight fair - his knife is poisoned.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Jango asks, instead of pressing him on the statement, and Obi-Wan shakes his head, curling up against Jango’s chest and tucking his nose into his shoulder, letting out a shaky breath. In response, Jango lets out a low huff, hugging him tighter, guilt heavy on his lungs.

He had dragged Obi-Wan into his hunt for revenge, he had put his kid in danger without even thinking about it. He should be named dar’buir for such an act. Jaster would be disappointed in him. Myles would have spaced him himself and taken on Obi-Wan as only his own, and Jango would have deserved it.

Obi-Wan deserved better than what Jango was giving him.

“I’m sorry, Ob’ika.” Jango murmurs, horrified with himself. Obi-Wan’s thirteen, technically of-age, but he’s still Jango’s responsibility, and Jango could have gotten him killed. He had put revenge over his ad’ika , when Obi-Wan should have been his priority. “ Ni ceta .”

“Nayc, Buir.” Obi-Wan responds, “There’s always next time.”

Jango lets out a shaky breath, cradling the boy like the precious gift he is. “No. No, I won’t drag you into this anymore, ad’ika .”

“I want to help.”

“I know you do, Ob’ika.” Jango assures, brushing a hand through shaggy copper hair. “But he’s not the priority - he never should have been my priority.” He presses his nose to the top of the boy’s head, and just breathes, trying to push away the lingering buzz of anxiety under his skin. “ Ni ceta, ad’ika .”

“I got the ‘saber.” Obi-Wan says quietly, and Jango snorts.

“You did.” He says with a slight laugh, pride taking the place of his anger. Vizsla would be wanting it back, but Jango would make sure he didn’t get close to his son. “Good job, verd’ika .”

After a long moment of just holding his ad , Jango sighs, lifting his head to the two naked Humans still cowering in the corner. They hadn’t moved, and were instead staring at the two Mandalorians with wide eyes. He doubted they were warriors, they didn’t hold themselves as such, “Sorry for interrupting your evening.” He says blandly, “Jango Fett, he/him, and this is my son, Obi-Wan.”

The paler Human shifts, putting themself in front of the darker, despite their smaller size. “Shmi, Master Fett. Shmi Skywalker.” Skywalker hesitates in the face of the suddenly sour expression on Jango’s face, but he gestures for them to continue. “She/her.” She murmurs, clasping her hands in front of her chest, brown eyes darting to the other Human with her. “This is Caasi Chanchani, she/her.” She bows her head, seemingly unbothered by her state of undress, while Chanchani keeps her eyes averted.

It only takes Jango moments to recognize their body language, and somehow his respect for Vizsla, which had already been nonexistent, drops even lower.

They’re slaves.

“Your pucks?” Once, Jaster’s Legacy had been stocked with everything he’d need to remove their chips - a lot of the verde were among the Freed, Myles included - but that had been before Kyr’tsad had taken possession of the ship. He couldn’t be sure of the state of anything now, but if he had the puck, he and Obi-Wan could try to disrupt the signal until they could get the women the medical attention they’d need to get the chips removed.

Both women flinch, shuffling, before Chanchani steps forward, head bowed and shoulders curled inwards, the emitter for the bombs planted in their bodies held in shaking hands. Smart, Jango could recognize them easily as Mandokarla. They must have stolen the puck from Vizsla while he had been distracted by their bodies, he’s almost disappointed he’d interrupted them, if only to see if they would have slit his throat.

Jango grins, slow and satisfied, gently lifting the device from the woman’s hands. “I mean you now harm.” He assures them, turning the puck over to study it. It’s an older model, and would be easy to disengage. “Is this the only one?”

Chanchani nods, but it’s Skywalker who speaks again.

“We were rented from Master Gardulla, Master Fett.” Skywalker says quietly, “She would have the master emitter.”

“You don’t need to call me Master.” He tells them, then turns to Obi-Wan, meeting blue eyes as the boy lifts his head, showing him the device. “What do you think, ad? Can you deactivate it?”

Obi-Wan grins boyishly while the two women gasp in shock, “‘ Lek Buir .”

Neither of them held any love for slavers.

#cole writes #whumptober 2020 #comfortember 2020 #no.25 #no.4 #star wars #fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #Mandobi-verse

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scarletlegionnaire · 4 years

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Mandalorian’s of In Honor

The following list contains the names and basic established facts about the Mandalorian’s of the covert. These Mandos will all be featured in my fic In Honor, some already have made appearances.

Paz Vizla - Alpha male, age 35

Din Djarin - Omega male, age 26

Tharr Djarin - Alpha male, age 56, unmated, buir of Din, ba’buir of Jae

Vraax Craurs - Alpha male, age 32, unmated - buir of Foundling Ria (Brer) Craurs

Poz Wrykir - Alpha male, age 41, unmated

Jaral Blys - Omega male, age 26, unmated

Llix Sairs - Omega male, age 26 - joins a Triad

Rhillallis Brakkyk - Alpha male, age 45, unmated

Nioth Jirs - Alpha male, age 49, unmated, official medical doctor

Dij Lott - Omega male, age 45, unmated

Rirk Strynnard - Alpha male, age 33, unmated

Krit Skuan - Alpha male, age 39, unmated

Toz Wragarn - Omega male, age 35, mated to Rurk Kust, buir of Foundling Rallo Kast

Sakka Krol - Omega male, age 42, unmated

Miits Kin - Omega male, unmated, buir of Foundling’s Mecaysh Drurr & Truj Mok

Xet Ulut - Omega male, age 30, unmated, Foundling of Ka Ulut (deceased) who was mated to Vrossun Litt

Waik Pahl - Alpha male, age 26, unmated

Rurk Kust - Alpha male, age 42, mate of Toz Wragarn, seeking biological parents of Foundling Rallo Kast

Ramar Bral - Alpha male, age 53, unmated

Vrossun Litt, Alpha male, age 52, mated to Ka Ulut (deceased, during The Purge), only remaining family is his mates Foundling Xet Ulut

Krel Buwr - Alpha male, age 39, mate of Lissi Braisitt

Phaoh Fak - Alpha female, age 29, unmated

Xil Spyn - Omega female, age 27, unmated

Jhasla Lyrek - Alpha female, age 32, mate of Nas Vydyss, joins a Triad

Nas Vydyss - Omega female, age 30, mated to Jhasla Lyrek, sustained injuries during The Purge as a child making child bearing impossible, joins a Triad

Ta Blak - Alpha female, age 42, unmated

Lissi Braisitt - Omega female, age 27, mate of Krel Buwr

Jhia Stryvywr - Omega female, age 36, unmated, past Trials partner of Paz, buir (mother) of Khal Vizla

Vha Cryrn - Alpha female, age 29, unmated, medic, in training under Nioth

Khamrah Aivhel - Alpha female, age 27, unmated

Zel Aran - Alpha female, age 20, unmated, not of age to join the Trials, youngest adult in the clan, Armorer’s apprentice

Ka Chell - Omega female, age 30, mated to Zerr Zoluss, past Trials partner of Paz, buir (mother) of Xoeth Vizla, and twins Grel & Norai Zoluss

Zerr Zoluss - Alpha male, age 56, mated to Ka Chell, buir (fahter) of twins Grel & Norai Zoluss, step-father of Xoeth Vizla

Thi Crart - Alpha female, age 29, unmated, buir of Foundling Nira (Jas) Crart

Phoraah Avell - Omega female, age 50, unmated, The Armorer aka the Matriarch (Alor) of clan Kyr’stad (Death Watch).

Xoeth Vizla - Alpha male, age 9, son of Paz and Ka, oldest child in the clan, brother of Trath, Khal, Caz, Norai and Grel

Trath (Zerr) Vizla - Alpha male, age 8, Foundling of Paz Vizla, brother of Xoeth, Khal & Caz, unknown origins

Mecaysh (Drurr) Kin - Alpha female, age 8, Foundling of Miits Kin, sister of Truj, Atoan ancestry, rescued from a slaver’s ship

Truj (Mok) Kin - Alpha male, age 8, Foundling of Miits, brother of Mecaysh, Zabrak-human hybrid, rescued from a slaver’s ship

Khal Vizla - Alpha female, age 7, daughter of Jhia & Paz, sister of Xoeth, Trath & Caz

Rallo Kast - Alpha male, age 7, Sarkhai ancestry, Foundling of Toz & Rurk

Norai Zoluss - Alpha female, age 6, sister of Grel & Xoeth, child of Ka & Zerr

Grel Zoluss - Omega male, age 6, brother of Norai & Xoeth, child of Ka & Zerr

Nira (Jas) Crart - Alpha female, age 6, Twilek ancestry, Foundling of Thi Crart

Ria (Brer) Craurs - Omega female, age 4, Twilek-human hybrid, Foundling of Vraax Craurs

Caz (Krykky) Vizla - Omega male, age 4, Foundling of Paz Vizla, brother of Trath, Khal & Xoeth, found by Paz at the same time as Trath on Nevarro, born to a murdered Omega human female who was a runaway slave

Jae Djarin - no secondary gender, age 50, unknown species classification, “The Child” and Foundling of Din Djarin, Force sensitive, unknown history/origins

Unused names that may still make an appearance in future chapters:

Vas, Saez, Larak, Jaigr and others yet to be named.

The above list in not necessarily set in stone, all those who have not yet made an appearance in In Honor are still subject to changes such as: gender, history, age etc. In regards to gender these changes may cover both the status of being an Omega, Beta or Alpha (or no secondary gender at all) or even the individuals gender identity (he/she/they/them). The universe is a big place, not all “humans” or human-hybrids are going to fall within the same mindset culturally, mentally or even physically with regard to gender.

The Omegaverse I am writing does not contain Omegas or Alphas who are in anyway completely similar in either behavior, characteristics, cultural/societal views etc. The Mandalorian’s of the In Honor universe do not follows these ideals, being Mando’s they’re made up of many species and therefore ideas that have ultimately led to a broader progressive view on gender. That is to say, they don’t care. You are the life you live and your actions, judged only by your actions as a Mandalorian.

The Empire and to some extent the Republic (and the Rebels) have a less progressive view overall. This is more from both sides warring over their ideas of a functioning society/universe and has resulted (as we know) in turning a blind eye on the marginalized and enslaved. Not exactly the place for flourishing progressive ideals on A/B/O politics or much of anything really. To be fair to the Rebels and the Republic (old and new) trying to stretch resources to an already vast universe to maintain law and order while “saving” others is a tall order. So, not so much turning a blind eye as running a triage unit.

But this is all just super basic info for In Honor to flesh out the world, most of this isn’t going to get covered in any large context because the story is strongly about Paz/Din, Jae and their family & clan.

I’ll eventually be making a post on the physical traits of the Alpha’s and Omega’s of In Honor, they vary widely and there’s no such thing as “wrong” when it comes to them or their Beta kin either. As well as other world building elements.

But feel free to ask any questions on this post about the Omegaverse of In Honor or any of the above listed character’s. Any other questions please hold for other posts, where it likely will be answered there.

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swanandphoenixsong · 3 years

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Original Characters from Aliit, Ch. 2-3 - Ao3

Summary: Toa Ordo , Lani & Kalei Varad

– –

From my notes on Ch 3 of Aliit: With Kalevala, I wanted to bring back some diversity to Mandalorian culture (and their demographics/ethnicities). Specifically, I’m drawing from Maori & Oceanic cultures (from Boba & Jango Fett’s actor, Temuera Morrison, and Clan Ordo in KOTOR I & II and SWTOR) and Sámi & Finnish/Karelian culture (as the name Kalevala comes from a Finnish/Karelian epic). I’ve attempted to be respectful when reaching for inspiration but I can guarantee it’s not perfect. Please let me know if there’s anything that stands out glaringly.

I also researched the Mandalorians, the "Ba’jurne Kyr’stad Mando’ad", and Jango Fett "Open Seasons" through Wookieepedia, but having not read the comics, I know my version of events may not match up, especially to fit in with Clone Wars canon, so try to keep that in mind. Also, the characters don’t know the full story, as the New Mandalorians have censored their history and Death Watch’s version of events has never been wholly accurate.

Captain Toa Ordo, Amis’s Uncle, of the Cabur’ade on Kalevala

Lani Varad, Toa’s second-in-command & Kalei Varad, one of Bo-Katan’s lieutenants

Appearances created in the Sims 4, digitally edited the Varads for hair color.

– –

Kalei Varad’s Death Watch/Nite Owl Mandalorian Armor

https://imgur.com/EPSxMPR

Appearance edited from a screenshot of Bo-Katan, the background is edited from Mandocreator.com, the DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle is from Star Wars Battlefront and the Clan Varad signet is edited from the SWTOR class icons.

– –

Toa Ordo’s Cabur’ade Mandalorian Armor

https://imgur.com/sG6NctJ

Appearance created and edited from Mandocreator.com, Canderous Ordo and his tattoo design are from KOTOR, and the Cabur’ade signet is edited from the SWTOR class icons.

Endnotes: According to Wookieepedia, members of Clan Ordo from KOTOR II spoke with a New Zealand accent, as a reference to Boba Fett/Jango Fett's actor, Temuera Morrison. For Toa, I would also give him a New Zealand accent.

With Lani and Kalei, I attempted to make them look like they could be from New Zealand, Hawaii, or other Oceanic cultures.

#Star Wars #Star Wars Legends #original characters #fanfic #fanfiction #Nouveau AU #Swan's creations #Swan's edits

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swanandphoenixsong · 3 years

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Aliit - Ao3

Chapter 3: Mandalorian History

Series: Part 2 of the Star Wars - Nouveau AU series

Chapter Summary: Here I will provide a history lesson, with Bo-Katan first, then with the cadets. With both parties, their perspectives are subjective, so keep that in mind.

In my version of events, Duke Adonai Kryze united the Mandalorian Clans on Kalevala as a faithful Mandalorian warrior, before adopting the New Mandalorians’ ideals (and becoming the Duke of the Mandalore sector) during Satine and Bo-Katan’s childhoods.

I’m adding Deputy Minister Jerec and Prince/Senator Tal Merrik to Satine’s family. Jerec will be Duke Adonai’s brother, and Tal Merrik would be related to Satine’s mother, who I’ve named Mirlia Merrik. Tal Merrik won’t show up too much yet, as I don’t know how to characterize him, but considering his title, I figured he had to have some relation Satine or Jerec.

Notes: With Kalevala, I wanted to bring back some diversity to Mandalorian culture (and their demographics/ethnicities). Specifically, I’m drawing from Maori & Oceanic cultures (from Boba & Jango Fett’s actor, Temuera Morrison, and Clan Ordo in KOTOR I & II and SWTOR) and Sámi & Finnish/Karelian culture (as the name Kalevala comes from a Finnish/Karelian epic). I’ve attempted to be respectful when reaching for inspiration but I can guarantee it’s not perfect. Please let me know if there’s anything that stands out glaringly.

I also researched the Mandalorians, the Ba’jurne Kyr’stad Mando’ad, and Jango Fett "Open Seasons" through Wookieepedia, but having not read the comics, I know my version of events may not match up, especially to fit in with Clone Wars canon, so try to keep that in mind. Also, the characters don’t know the full story, as the New Mandalorians have censored their history and Death Watch’s version of events has never been wholly accurate.

With the cadets, just wanted to address that I gave Soniee back her cybernetic visor and Korkie his ginger hair. You’ll see more of their characterizations here, along with my version of Bo-Katan and Korkie’s backstories. Keep in mind that the information may be skewed slightly, as for Korkie, he’s getting it secondarily from Satine and what Bo-Katan told him when he was still a child.

See my "Set-up" work for a full timeline of events prior to 19 BBY. archiveofourown.org/works/31826422/chapters/78866083

Translations of Mando’a: *Cabur’ade – protectors or guardians, Kalevalan militia similar to the Journeyman Protectors of Concord Dawn alor’ad – captain *Kaleval’ade – Mando’a term for Kalevalan chakaar – thief, petty criminal, scumbag; literally: "grave robber"; general term of abuse gar serim – you’re right, that’s it Ne shab’rud’ni . . . – "Don't mess with me..."; extremely strong warning likely to be followed by violence *k’susulu – (command) listen Kyr’tsad – Mando’a name for Death Watch; literally: "Death Society" *vod’ad – niece or nephew, or child of my friend ori’buyce, kih’kovid – "All helmet, no head." –Mandalorian insult for someone with an overdeveloped sense of authority ori’haat – I swear it, no bull udesii – "calm down" or "take it easy" or’dinii – moron or fool *ka’rta be’cabur – heart of a protector, guardian nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la – not gone, merely marching far away; a Mandalorian belief about death or afterlife ret’urcye mhi – may we meet again ner – my *ka’rta’ad – child of heart or soul, foundling, adoptive child beskad – beskar short-saber

– –

19 BBY – Esplanade, Kalevala, before Death Watch has fully set up camp on Zanbar

Bo-Katan may have been born on Mandalore, but Kalevala was home.

It was just as beautiful as she remembered it. Snow-peaked mountains to the north, bordering the grassy lakelands that met the gleaming oceans to the south. The evening market of Esplanade sparkled with hanging lanterns and strings of lights, the sound of drinking songs wafting in from docked ships or the bustling cantina. And the people– their wide demographics were much more diverse than they had been in Sundari. There were still pale-faced blondes and freckled gingers among them, but there were just as many with umber, tawny, ochre, and in-between brown shades of skin, with varied lengths of hair in curls, braids, or tussled waves from black, to mahogany, to russet, as well as lighter colors.

This, the rich diversity of Mandalorian culture, is what she had sorely missed during her days at the Academy.

While Pre Vizsla and most of Death Watch were setting up camp on Zanbar, Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls had traveled throughout the Mandalore sector, running recon, gathering resources, and recruiting more Mandalorians to their cause.

They had landed at the Merrik estate, just between the Sisu mountain range and the Fadno lakelands, and headed to Koha Bay’s coast to meet with civilians as well as members of the Cabur’ade, the local militia of Kalevala. They met in a dimly lit warehouse near the docks, giving the usual speech and handing out manifesto pamphlets to their audience. After, they gathered around tables and shared stories, building a rapport with their potential recruits.

Bo-Katan and her closest lieutenant, Ursa of Clan Wren on Krownest, sat at a table with Alor’ad Toa Ordo and his second-in-command, Lani Varad. Varad’s daughter, Kalei, closer in age to Bo-Katan and Ursa, stood at their side. The Varads had brown skin, a shade of dark bronze, and coarse umber waves tied back. In contrast, Ordo looked more beige, like a typical Sundari resident, but his skin was tanned and freckled from navigating under the sun. Like many Kalevalan locals, they were calloused and hardy, experienced in sailing the seas, harvesting the lakes, and hunting on the mountains. Many warriors of Mandalore had once been trained on Kalevala, before the New Mandalorians outlawed their old traditions.

Ordo set aside his drink and regarded Bo-Katan with his seasoned gaze. His voice echoed, surely overheard by nearby tables. He spoke with a voyager’s accent, the manner of his voice commanding respect. “I understand your plight. Many Mandalorians would appreciate the return of the old ways. But it was not long ago that Kalevala was a target of Death Watch’s schemes.”

Bo-Katan knew he spoke of the attack that killed Deputy Minister Jerec Kryze, just around two years ago, shortly after Senator and Prince Tal Merrik of Kalevala had been revealed as loyal to Death Watch and eliminated for threatening Duchess Satine and the passengers aboard the Coronet. Death Watch had orchestrated the attack on Kalevala in order to obtain recordings of Minister Jerec to be sent to Coruscant with Vizsla’s former second-in-command. After the assassin had failed their mission and the true recording had been shown in the Senate, Death Watch had lost favor with Count Dooku and the Separatists.

“However,” Ordo continued, “I do not speak for everyone here. Some Kaleval’ade already joined your cause when Merrik’s loyalty was revealed, while others were rightly upset by Jerec’s death and how the Separatists attempted to use his words for their own gain.”

“And what’s your view?” Bo-Katan asked, watching the other tables with her helmet’s HUD, measuring how they listened in to her and the captain’s conversation.

He looked her over, pausing at the Nite Owl and Clan Kryze sigils on her armor. “How’d you end up with Death Watch, anyway?” He asked instead, avoiding her question.

Bo-Katan barely managed not to sigh with contempt, and was glad that her vocoder didn’t pick up the stifled sound. She disliked sharing her personal history with recruits, but she understood that it helped to gain their trust. She just hoped they were worth the trouble.

“I was educated at the Royal Academy of Government on Mandalore. I had known Governor Vizsla of Concordia for most of my life.”

Although he hadn’t known of her personal history until a year ago.

“Why am I not surprised,” the elder Varad interrupted gruffly, “that sneaky chakaar would prey on naïve children to fill his ranks.”

Bo-Katan grit her teeth. “I was no naïve child when I joined. I grew up watching how the New Mandalorians stamped out anyone who disagreed with their views. I know what happened to the exiled warriors on Concordia, and how their sympathizers, regardless of their origins, suffered the same fate.”

Varad looked ready to argue, but Ordo held up a hand, asserting his authority. “That is true. But I wonder how much you know of what’s really been going on for the past forty years. I assume you know that the former Duke and his family were originally from Kalevala?” Bo-Katan nodded. “Are you also aware that Duke Adonai Kryze was once a warlord, and not a New Mandalorian pacifist?”

“Gar serim, he was exactly the faithful warrior that any Mandalorian should aspire to be. The New Mandalorians converted him and his allies to their cowardly beliefs.”

Ordo hummed. “That’s not entirely true.” He paused for a long moment, a faint glimmer in his eyes. “I actually knew Adonai, more than professionally. We were childhood friends, and fierce rivals as gangly teenagers. It was an honor to spar with him, and we trusted each other with our lives. When he united Kalevalan clans, my family was the first to ally with him. When he declared his intentions to marry the princess of House Merrik, I was the one who endorsed his character. He was a faithful Mandalorian warrior, through and through.”

Bo-Katan furrowed her eyebrows beneath her visor. “But he changed–”

“Not at first. That came later, after his children were born.” He refilled his drink and knocked it back. “Before then, before he united the clans, there were turf wars in our region. Another, much smaller, clan got caught in between them. We were young and reckless, so we ran towards the danger, and they were just as afraid of us. We didn’t know the damage the enemy had caused, it ended up poisoning their lands. We were hardy and strong, and although we tried to help them, the weakest among their families suffered. We watched them die, and could do nothing.” He shook his head, clearly haunted by the memories. “When we united the clans against the thugs, it was in honor of that clan. It was our vengeance, and our duty.

“But after he was married, after he had a family of his own, he didn’t want their future to be of blood and war. So the Kryze and Merrik clans joined the New Mandalorians, and together promoted diplomacy and nonviolence, further advanced the technology of Sundari, and earned sovereignty over the Mandalore Sector.”

Bo-Katan tipped her head knowingly. “And what of Clan Ordo? What of the Kalevalan clans he left behind?”

Ordo shrugged. “I respected his choices. I did not agree with them, but I understood. Others did not.”

“And those others fought back. They protested against the New Mandalorians, and he ignored their pleas. Do you know how bad it was in Aloriya before the Civil War broke out?”

Aloriya had been a former capital of Mandalore, years before Sundari came to prosper. The city had suffered over time, exploited for labor in manufacturing the technology that went into Sundari, and the New Mandalorians had neglected to remedy the pollution they caused.

His gaze narrowed. “I do. The year before the Civil War, there were disastrous storms and earthquakes on Kalevala, ruining homes and infrastructure, and our resources were unable to fully meet the expectations of Mandalore. Princess Satine wasn’t just sent to Coruscant to learn diplomacy. She was sent to learn of the Republic and determine if they were capable of sending aid without exploiting our vulnerability. The Mandalore Sector has been neutral and independent, separate from the Republic, for centuries, and for good reason.”

Bo-Katan slammed her fist on the table. “You’re ignoring a crucial detail, just as the New Mandalorians did. Aloriya was starving, and the Duke’s administration deliberately turned a blind eye toward their suffering. They would not share their resources with them, just because they were outsiders.”

Many members of Aloriya’s clans had been of diverse heritage or were non-humans, thus victims of discrimination and bigotry, which he would know, if he was as well-informed as he implied.

Ordo sighed heavily. “You are correct in that. But there is something more you do not understand. The administration was not wholly his.” His expression grew even darker than before. “The New Mandalorians have a long history of corruption and deceit. They are prejudiced against any offworlder, especially non-humans. Adonai had hoped to change them from the inside. He underestimated their biases, and often held his tongue when he should have challenged their reforms. In the end, any power he had, came from them.”

“If you knew this,” Bo-Katan spat, “then why couldn’t you convince him of the truth?”

Ordo shook his head. “Those fifteen years had changed him. He was in too deep and wouldn’t listen to reason. Just the same as you.”

“Ne shab’rud’ni . . .”

“K’susulu,” Toa whispered, and gestured for her to come closer, “Adonai was just one man in a game that’s been going on for centuries. And the New Mandalorians aren’t the only enemy here. Do you know the history of your beloved Death Watch?”

Bo-Katan grit her teeth and waited for him to continue.

“The Kyr’tsad has existed for far longer than you know. And they are just as prejudiced as the New Mandalorians. Do you know what part they played in the Battle of Galidraan?”

There was a beat of silence. This was something Bo-Katan did not know, and she was loath to admit it.

“How about this– do you know the names Tor Vizsla and Jaster Mereel?”

She did not.

“What of Jango Fett?”

That one she did know. Pre had said he was a common bounty hunter, and had no right to the armor he wore.

Ordo smirked, as if he knew that he had caught her. He took one last drink. “I know this is a battle I’ve already lost. You’re in a cult, vod’ad, and your sister has been groomed for her role since she was a child. It will take more than simple words for you to realize that. Come back when you’re willing to listen.”

Bo-Katan was baffled, and utterly seething. How dare he claim to know her story, or her identity as Satine’s sister? Her chair fell over with a deafening clack! when she stood too quickly. He was dismissing her like an unruly child, and part of her certainly wanted to react like one. But she knew all their efforts would go to waste if she threatened their captain, and so she simply left, her head held high and her back stiff.

She felt like a coward.

Wren and the others soon followed. They would find out tomorrow whether they had made any progress.

In the morning, they gained six recruits, and surprisingly, Kalei Varad was among them.

“Can I trust you?” Bo-Katan demanded, once she had cornered her in the hangar.

Kalei chuckled darkly. “You can trust me not to put a knife in your back. I use a rifle.”

Bo shoved her, not amused.

She laughed again. “What? I’m joking. I want to join you. I listened to what you said last night. Toa and my mother have higher priorities, they can’t leave the Cabur’ade. But I have no such responsibilities. And if we’re being honest, I think they respected what you said, much more than you realize. I know I did. Just don’t ask me to show Vizsla the same respect.”

“And why is that?”

“Ori’buyce, kih’kovid. You both have a talent for grand speeches. But on Kalevala, trust is earned with actions, not words.”

“And so I ask again,” Bo insisted, “can I trust you?”

Varad held up a hand with a smirk. “Ori’haat. Let me prove my loyalty with my actions. If I fail, you’re free to just shoot me.”

“I’m seriously contemplating it right now.”

She laughed again, and Bo was honestly annoyed. What is her game? She wondered wordlessly.

“C’mon, Princess, udesii. You’re the one that recruited me, remember?”

“I could revoke my invitation, specifically for you.”

“Naw, you want me around. Remember what Ordo said, that it was an honor to spar with Adonai?” Bo-Katan cocked her head minutely, and Varad grinned wider. “I think it’d be my privilege to spar with you.”

“You enjoy getting your ass kicked by a princess?”

“As I said, it would be my privilege.”

Bo-Katan shook her head with exasperation. “C’mon then, let’s get you some armor, or’dinii.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

– –

19 BBY – Sundari, Mandalore, a few days before Maul executes Pre Vizsla

Korkie and the cadets had taken refuge in the safehouse the night of the first attack of the crime families. He knew the coordinates from years ago, as it had been a safe refuge during his childhood. He now shared it with his closest friends: Amis, Soniee, and Lagos, fellow cadets at the academy.

“So, what is this place?” Soniee had asked, flipping through holo-images on her wrist-display as they moved down to the lower level.

“It’s a safehouse of Auntie Satine’s. She and our family hid here whenever her position was threatened, but she hasn’t used it for a while now. I come here whenever she’s away on Coruscant, just as a precaution.”

The others continued on, Lagos making tea, Amis going to check the storage, and Soniee researching Death Watch and the crime syndicates at his side. Korkie sat at the dining table, scratching at his stiff neck, still uncomfortable with returning here.

Amis rejoined them a few minutes later, carrying a small crate. His eyes never left the short-saber hilt poking through the pile of family mementos and holo-images. “There’s a couple crates full of this stuff. Why did your aunt it keep them here, instead of at the palace? Looks personal.”

“Maybe it is personal,” Lagos said, setting down the tea.

Korkie took a cup gratefully, cherishing the warmth before he answered. “She didn’t want it in the palace, just in case.”

“In case someone found it?” Amis asked.

“In case she was killed.” Korkie corrected, taking one of the family portraits from the pile. “She wanted her family’s things to survive, even if her life was forfeit.” The portrait was of her family on Kalevala, about two years before the Mandalorian Civil War. At the back was her father, Duke Adonai Kryze, and his wife, Duchess Mirlia of House Merrik. Alongside them was Deputy Minister Jerec Kryze, and Mirlia’s younger sister, Lady Bes’laar Merrik. In front of them stood Jerec’s twin teenage daughters, Yaim and Arum, and between them, were adolescents Prince Tal Merrik and Princess Satine.

“Who’s that?” Amis asked, pointing to the toddler Satine held.

Korkie sighed again. Perhaps Satine had hidden this here, just to avoid questions like these. “It’s a long story, Amis. But I suppose I have the time to share it, as much of it that I know, anyway.” He dug deeper and found one of Satine’s old journals, turning to the page bookmarked with a metal hairpin, resembling a mandalorum lily. “Soniee?”

“On it.” She had lowered her visor slightly, probably letting her tech hack into the databases while they talked. She closed her research and set down her pack, taking out her tablet. She set it on the table and projected the New Mandalorians’ recent history, just under thirty years ago.

“Auntie Satine had a younger sister, Bo-Katan. She was born about six years before the most recent Mandalorian Civil War. Before their time, Satine and Bo-Katan’s father, Adonai Kryze, was essentially a warlord, attempting to unite the clans of Kalevala and Mandalore. After he married Princess Mirlia Merrik and started his family, he became a changed man. During Satine’s childhood, he converted to the New Mandalorians’ ways of pacifism and neutrality. A few years later, he had been appointed as ruler of the Mandalore sector.”

Amis frowned. “Mandalore has changed a lot in the last thirty years.”

Korkie nodded. “The New Mandalorians had been steadily growing in number and power over the past several centuries, but even more so now, in the twenty-three years since Satine became Duchess and the former warriors were exiled to Concordia. Clan traditions, warrior training, religious practices, they were all thrown by the wayside. What do you all know about your clan history?”

“Soniee probably knows the most.” Lagos said, taking a sip of tea as she sat across from Korkie. “My family is loyal to the New Mandalorians, and we idolize your aunt.” She ran a hand through her hair, probably missing the mandalorum lilies she used to wear. “They never taught me much of clan history, but I know our ancestors were as much brave Mandalorians as anyone else’s.”

Soniee placed her hand on her shoulder. “My family is similar, but I’ve done more research, of course. My family has kept old records dating back almost a century, and we may have more data off-world. They tried to keep it secret, but it was nothing my tech couldn’t handle. Clan Dochek was known for our inventive tactics, linguistic charisma, and technological adaptability.”

Amis snickered. “Something you inherited.” He looked up, locking eyes with Korkie. “Clan Ordo were faithful Mandalorians of Kalevala, before the recent Civil War, just like Clan Kryze.” He turned toward the crate, taking out the sheathed short-saber, almost cradling it in his hands. “My family and I were invited to visit my uncle on Kalevala, after we exposed Almec’s corruption. He showed me how to wield one of these. He said I may have the mind of a student, but I also had a ka'rta be’cabur. I told him I didn’t know what that meant, and he taught me everything he could in the short time we were there. I haven’t heard from him since we left, as he and my parents had a falling out. They won’t talk about him anymore. They probably think he joined Death Watch, but I doubt it.”

Korkie nodded. “Like you said, Clan Kryze were faithful Mandalorians once, but things changed. According to Auntie Satine, her father had seen the destruction and suffering of his people, and he wanted to bring peace. He took up pacifism and became a part of the New Mandalorians, as did many within his clan. His assassination is what started the most recent Mandalorian Civil War. At the time, Auntie Satine was on Coruscant, training in diplomacy. The Galactic Senate had her escorted back to Mandalore, protected by the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and his padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Soniee brought up some records, showing the well-known Jedi Knights. “He more recently protected Satine during the Death Watch assassination attempts on Mandalore, the Coronet, and Coruscant.”

“Yes, Satine hadn’t seen Kenobi since they retook Mandalore, a year after the deaths of her parents.”

“It took them a year to get to here?” Lagos asked. “Must’ve been an eventful escort mission.”

Korkie smiled, skipping over pages in his Aunt’s journal. “It was. She hasn’t told me all of it, but I know she and Obi-Wan grew close, during that time. He’s been a good friend to her since then, especially when Deputy Minister Jerec died.”

Korkie looked up again, seeing Amis frown as he tightly gripped the sheathed saber. “My uncle told me about the bombing on Kalevala and how the Senate tried to twist Jerec’s words after his death. He was livid about it, even if he didn’t agree with the Minister’s pacifist ideals.”

Korkie nodded. “When Satine and the Jedi finally got to Mandalore, those same ideals had been tested. After assassinating the royalty and seizing resources for their people, the warrior clans fell into civil war, causing chaos within Sundari and Aloriya. Satine’s twin cousins, young adult daughters of Minister Jerec, were here too, as they were responsible for watching over Bo-Katan. By the time Satine and the Jedi rallied the New Mandalorians, one of the twins, Arum, had been killed. Clan Sharratt, who had orchestrated the assassinations and the war, had taken the remaining twin, Yaim, and Bo-Katan as hostages in Aloriya. Led by Satine and the Jedi, the New Mandalorians took siege of Aloriya and liberated her family, and Satine claimed her rightful mantle as Duchess, bringing an end to the War.”

The room went quiet, the others solemn. Soniee brought up the records of Satine’s homecoming and subsequent coronation. “There were calls for executions of the attackers.”

“Aunt Satine refused,” Korkie told them, “She wanted to honor her father’s wishes and spare their lives, despite all that they had done. Instead, they were exiled to Concordia, and Mandalorian Space was fully reformed with a more diplomatic government, disbanding the clan traditions of our ancestors. With Satine’s administration they established Sundari into the beacon it is today. But not everyone thought that was a good idea.”

Soniee brought up the star map of Mandalorian Space. “So, some of the warriors likely survived on Concordia, planting the seeds of Death Watch. Did Vizsla always sympathize with them, or was he converted? And what about Tal Merrik from Kalevala?”

“I don’t know,” said Korkie, “they had deceived Satine, while she believed everyone in her administration with staunch conviction. The last two years have weighed heavily upon her shoulders.”

“And what about Bo-Katan?” Lagos asked, “What happened to her and the cousin, Yaim, was it?”

Korkie sighed, looking back down at the journal. “Yaim stayed here with Satine and Bo-Katan, so that they could grow together, as a family, although they would make visits to Deputy Minister Jerec, as well as Lady Merrik and her family during Kalevala’s midsummer and midwinter holidays. Satine had established the Mandalorian royal guard, to protect her family’s lives as much as her own. Satine had her ethics and ideals as her driving force, wanting nothing more than to establish peace and neutrality, as her parents’ legacy. But Yaim and Bo-Katan were kept out of the spotlight, as they were traumatized by what they had witnessed in Sundari and Aloriya, and just wanted to be left alone. They didn’t always get along with Satine. This safehouse, and their trips to Kalevala, served as a refuge for them, away from politics and responsibilities.

“Yaim ended up meeting someone, on one of those visits to Kalevala, a couple years after the War. Their relationship helped her find happiness again, and Bo-Katan grew attached to both of them. Auntie thought that, for Bo-Katan, it was like having parents again.”

Korkie lifted the metal hairpin to show them, caressing its mended fractures. “This was Arum’s, before she died. It was Yaim’s most treasured possession, even though it had been broken by the tribal warriors. Yaim’s paramour, Arpat, repaired it with beskar as part of their marriage vows, about three years after they met, during the midsummer holiday. While Auntie Satine and Bo-Katan returned to Mandalore, she stayed behind on Kalevala.”

He passed the hairpin to Lagos and continued, “But there were secrets between Yaim, Arpat, and Bo-Katan.” Korkie looked to Amis again, focusing on the beskar saber he held. “Satine didn’t know much of it at the time, but she drew her suspicions together over the years. In secret, Yaim and Bo-Katan practiced old Mandalorian traditions and beliefs. Preserving the traditions gave Yaim closure for Arum’s death, and she shared that with Bo-Katan.

“Arpat had conflicting beliefs as well, having experienced the transition from clan traditions on Kalevala, rather than on Mandalore, the epicenter of the New Mandalorians’ administration. In the years before their marriage, Arpat and Yaim had taught Bo-Katan the archaic language of Mando’a, as well as the warrior culture, of armor and weaponry. Bo-Katan latched onto their teachings whole-heartedly, idolizing the ancient ways of our ancestors.

“During Satine and Bo-Katan’s next return for midwinter holiday, Yaim had discovered she was pregnant. When they discussed their future family, Arpat wanted Bo-Katan to stay with them on Kalevala. Yaim didn’t know if she could willingly separate Bo-Katan from her sister. Satine and Bo-Katan overheard them arguing about it and intervened. Satine and Arpat both said things they didn’t mean, and Bo-Katan, well–”

“She wanted to stay with them, didn’t she?” Amis interrupted, his voice shaky, but his gaze was tight, “If she thought of them as family, she would’ve– and it was what, five years after the War, right? So, she was like, eleven?”

Korkie nodded. “Yeah. She would be enrolling at the Royal Academy of Government the next year. Her relationship with Satine, during Bo’s early adolescence, was tense, to say the least.”

“I can imagine,” Soniee said, bringing up Kalevala on her tablet, “with knowing about Mandalorian traditions in secret, she probably resented her New Mandalorian education, as well as the time she spent away from Kalevala.”

“It was her lifeline,” Lagos whispered, setting down the hairpin. “If she was like Yaim, then Mandalorian traditions and beliefs were her connection to everything she had lost. Her parents and cousin Arum were all part of her life before the War, and with the reforms put in place by Duchess Satine and Deputy Minister Jerec, she was cut off from all that she had known. If she hadn’t had Yaim and Arpat preserving that culture, she would’ve lost it all.”

“Yes, and at the time,” Korkie continued, “Satine hadn’t discovered their secrets, as far as they knew. So, the argument was the climax of everything that had transpired without Satine’s knowledge. It only ended when Minister Jerec and the royal guard were alerted by their shouting. He made the decision for them, believing it was safer for Bo-Katan with the royal guard, and that it’d be better to continue her education on Mandalore.”

Korkie reached inside the crate, picking up another family portrait, “I was born within the next year, given the Kryze name to carry on the family legacy. Satine and Bo-Katan became my honorary aunts.” The portrait, as he showed to the others, was of his parents holding him as an infant, and Grandpa Jerec, Auntie Satine, and Bo-Katan standing around them. Yaim looked like her father, with ginger hair and high cheekbones, which Korkie inherited. But he would have Arpat’s nose and ears, which Bo-Katan had teased him about, as he grew up. She had been like an older sister to him, once upon a time.

“Bo-Katan and Satine grew closer during her years at the Academy, especially when they stayed here at the safehouse. Despite Bo’s resentment toward the New Mandalorian ways, she could confide in Satine, missing Yaim and Arpat, and reminiscing about their lost family members. It was during this time that Satine had gleaned the truth. There would be things that Bo-Katan would say, things she couldn’t have remembered or couldn’t have learned in her education. However, even when three years had passed since the climactic argument, she delayed confronting anyone about it, not wanting to upset her family.

“During the next midwinter holiday on Kalevala, while Jerec, Satine, and Bo-Katan watched over me, my parents had planned a few nights alone together in the mountains. There was a tempestuous blizzard, causing an avalanche down the mountainside.”

Korkie went silent, his throat sore from more than just talking. His hands shook slightly around his teacup, the ceramic having cooled during their conversation. Lagos steadied his hand, and Soniee sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder. Amis set down the saber and leaned over the table, his gaze communicating sympathy.

“Auntie Satine became my guardian, and I went to live with her and Bo-Katan here on Mandalore. Auntie Satine forgot about Bo’s secrets for a while, as raising me became the focus of their lives.”

“But that wasn’t the end of it.” Amis said knowingly.

“No,” Korkie replied. “Once I was old enough to understand, Bo-Katan shared with me the same comforts that Yaim had given her after the War.”

“Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la,” Amis recited reverently.

"Not gone, merely marching far away," Soniee translated.

Lagos looked away from them, still cradling the metal hairpin in her other hand.

“Every holiday on Kalevala,” Korkie continued, “or when we were alone at this safehouse, she taught me more about the history of Clan Kryze and the old Mandalorians. For the most part, it was fun, sneaking around to keep our secret from Auntie Satine and Grandpa Jerec.”

Korkie looked over at the beskar saber. “That blade once belonged to Duke Adonai. Yaim had recovered it in secret, along with other weapons and armor, from House Kryze on Kalevala, before the New Mandalorians had finished clearing out everything else. She and Arpat showed Bo-Katan how to use it when she was old enough, and then Bo passed it on to me, almost ten years ago.

“When she did, she swore to me ‘ret’urcye mhi, ner ka’rta’ad.’”

“May we meet again, my foundling.” Amis translated.

Korkie nodded. “The morning after, Bo-Katan was gone, along with everything that she and my parents had hidden here, away from Auntie Satine. That hairpin is all she had left behind. Auntie Satine comforted me and revealed she had known the truth for a long time, but never had the courage to face it. Neither of us had any idea why Bo-Katan had disappeared so suddenly, or where she had gone.

“In the ten years that have passed, I depended upon Aunt Satine and have come to understand why she had left behind the old traditions. Before she became Duchess, she and her parents had seen the Mandalorian clans wage war against each other, spewing hate and discord, and when her father unified them and turned toward pacifism, they responded with violence, executing her parents and killing innocents. Even after she ushered in years of peace and prosperity, those old beliefs festered resentment and tore apart her family.

“When Auntie Satine returned from Coruscant, after Vizsla was exposed and Death Watch had made attempts upon her life, Satine confided in me, here at the safehouse. With the involvement of Tal Merrik and the death of Minister Jerec, she suspected that Death Watch had recruited someone who was accustomed to Kalevala’s terrain and had intimate knowledge of the dynamics of the royal family, in order to strike where she was most vulnerable.”

“It was Bo-Katan,” Soniee said with deafening finality, “she had betrayed her family.”

“That is what we concluded, although she and Death Watch would likely claim Satine, Jerec, and the New Mandalorians were traitors first, having abandoned the ancient traditions. But she is still complicit in the violence and destruction, the death of innocents, the murder of my grandfather, and attempting to kill her own sister.”

“And yet,” Lagos interjected, “despite all of that, and with the Confederacy, the Clone Wars, the corruption among her administration and in the Republic, Duchess Satine’s resolve for neutrality and preserving all life has never been stronger.”

Amis agreed, “If Death Watch had ever wanted to unite our people and undermine the beliefs of New Mandalorians, then they have failed.”

“But the public won’t see it that way.” Soniee brought up the footage of the crime syndicates’ attack on the shipping docks, from only hours ago, followed by how Death Watch arrested the criminals. “Why did the crime families attack, and how did Death Watch know to intervene? It can’t be a coincidence.”

Korkie looked up towards her. “Keep trying to hack into whatever databases you have access to, and record everything you find. Someone is playing with Mandalore’s future, and we have to figure out who.”

Soniee nodded, taking up her tablet and checking in on her visor.

He turned toward Lagos and Amis. “Keep what resources we use to a minimum and pack up the rest. Strategize for defense and mobility; Bo-Katan knows about this place and we have to be ready if she comes here.” Korkie stood, repacking his aunt’s journal and the portraits. “I’ll sort through what else is in those crates.”

Lagos gathered up their mugs and Soniee followed her to the kitchenette. Amis stood by Korkie, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What do we do when Bo-Katan inevitably does show up here?”

Korkie looked to the Duke’s saber, his expression grim. “We do what we must and defend our way of life.” He lifted the sheathed beskad and offered it to Amis, “You have more recent training with it than I do. Be prepared to use it.”

Amis nodded, fastening the scabbard on his belt, then looking back up at Korkie, “When we have the time, I can show you and the others what my uncle taught me. You might be surprised by how much you remember.”

Korkie gave a hint of a smile, “I hope so. I have a feeling this won’t end peacefully. If we have to contact to the Republic, the Clone Wars will be on our doorstep.”

Amis agreed, “Then the time for neutrality may be over.”

Endnotes: Varad said “I’m gonna flirt with the princess,” and I didn’t have the strength to hold her back. For Lani Varad, I drew inspiration from Shae Vizla of SWTOR.

#Star Wars #Star Wars Legends #Bo-Katan Kryze #Korkie Kryze #fanfic #fanfiction #Swan's creations #Nouveau AU

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