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fwakes31 · 3 years ago

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A gift from me to you.

@the-obiwan-for-me So here it is, a little delayed but we got there.

When I first started reading She Said The Word back in June 2020, I never expected in my wildest dreams to makes friends with the author of one of my favourite works. Now with the continuation of More Than Blood this wonderful Kryze-Kenobi family have had me laughing and crying along with you. I feel so fortunate that through your story I was invited into a wonderful comunity of like minded people where we can share our love of Obitine and our bestest boy Korkie. You know HOW much I love your Korkie in your AU, and it’s been an unexpected pleasure to talk thought other plot points or MTB, something I never thought I would ever be asked to do.

I have so much love for you and your work, so please accept this recipe and origins story of our dear Duchess favourite treat as my gift of thanks from me to you 💖😘🥰

~*~

Orikih Tracyn Ruun - (Tiny fire rocks)

The origins of Shun'ika'tracyn, the Fireroot cookie.

These small sweet but fiery treats can be found in records as far back as 4000 BBY. Originally a savoury staple, the Fireroot Cookie has become over the centuries a favourite sweet fiery treat. From its humble beginnings to it’s now more elaborate conatiations bestowed upon it by the traditions of the New Mandalorians, this biscuit has stuck firmly within the Mando’ade culture as firmly as the six tenets of their creed.

One of the oldest used spices, Fireroot has long been favoured within the Mando’ade. It’s medicinal properties have been well known for centuries, used to soothe a cold or flu, ease digestion and most notably aid in relieving nausea. However it is the root's spicy warm bite that makes it perfect for these sweet treats.

Originally baked in clay earth ovens by the nomadic ancestors of the Mandalorians the recipes of these biscuits have long been passed from generation to generation. Each making their tweaks and adjustments as to what ingredients were available. Earliest dated sources of these ‘Fire Rocks’ were first mentioned to be spiced with peppers and chillies. Only in later years did they become a sweet treat when new sugars and syrups were discovered.

The specific spice mixture used is unique to each clan and house and is often a closely guarded secret. What now are seen as beautiful and sometimes elaborately designed biscuits were once just rough looking ‘rocks’. As everything was with the old Mando’ade nothing was left to waste. Each biscuit would be hand rolled and shaped against the heel of the maker's palm. Now they are crafted into beautiful shapes, decorated and iced with a mixture of fine powdered sugar and Fireroot syrup.

Unlike the rich and sticky treat Uj'alayi (or Uj cake as it is more commonly known) these were dry robust biscuits that became a staple part of their everyday diet. The mixture could be made sweet or savoury and spiced fit for either a newly teething tot or an aged warlord. Sometimes topped with spiced pickles or rich cheeses, these simple but versatile biscuits have long been a go to for the Mandalorians as a simple but high energy snack.

One of the first tastes of heat a child gets, unlike most Mandalorian cuisine these little treats are all well tolerated by even the most mild of pallets. But like all home cooked delights these can be altered to suit their faction. Most remember them as a fond reminder of childhood. A treat that many older warlords would have denied liking, it has however not been unheard of for elder warlords of the clan to demand their bakers to craft more when they had seen the biscuits barrels running low.

Made once as an early store food (what would now be seen in the modern-age as rations), the modest biscuit has in recent years become a signature of marking the celebration of those swearing the Resol’nare. Made into the shape of the Kar'ta Beskar (the Iron Heart) these simple but significant treats are a nod back to simpler times and the celebration of another entering the fold of the clan as an equal.

As new traditions were crafted over the centuries, it is one of the more recent reimaginings of the Fireroot cookie that has seen the humble ration become a symbol of demonstrating both the remembrance and change that Mando’ade have come through. The beautiful glass like centre of the ‘Fire Rock’ Iron Hearts is a tradition that the New Mandalorians brought into being almost a thousand years ago. The destruction of the coloured candies and sweets that are used to make the beautiful glass-like centres represent that, from ruin, beauty and light can still survive. That at the heart of every Mandalorian unity can be achieved.

A known favourite of the Kryze-Kenobi household. The delightful smell of these homely Fireroot Cookies can always be smelt wafting around the kitchens and lower quarters of the Sundari Palace. Shared below, from the renowned kitchen of the Sundari Palace, Head Chef, Orin Rouss, has shared with us his staple recipes and a simple spice Mix that all could put together.

~*~

Both the recipes below have been made vegan and gluten free for my own diary requirements but they can easily be swapped for other products that suit you. Enjoy!

~*~

Orikih Tracyn Ruun - (makes 30 cookies)

100g non-dairy butter (hard block not soft)

110g brown sugar

40g golden syrup

250g rolled oats

100g gluten-free self raising flour

½ tsp bicarb

2tsp ground ginger (Fireroot)

4 to 5 pieces of stem ginger chopped finely

Preheat the oven to 190C/170C fan/gas 5 and line 2 baking trays with parchment paper.

In a bowl cream together the butter and sugar until pale in colour and fluffy. Add the golden syrup and mix.

Add the flour, bicarb and oats into the butter and sugar mix.

Once combined add in the chopped stem ginger. Mix well with a wooden spoon until it forms a dough. It may seem a little dry at first but it will come together, you may need to use your hands to bring it together at the end.

Wrap the dough in cling film and place in the fridge to rest for about 30 minutes.

Divide the dough into 30 equal pieces. Roll each piece into a small ball before pressing it against the palm of your hand to form a rough disk shape.

Place 6 on one of your lined baking trays and bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden in colour.

Leave to cool on the tray to firm slightly before moving them to a cooling rack.

Note from Orin Rouss: I like to bake them in smaller batches so that you can have a rotation going between your two baking trays.

~*~

Shun'ika'tracyn Kar'ta Beskar - (Makes 12)

100g dairy free butter (Hard block)

60g golden syrup

100g dark muscovado sugar

½ tsp bicarbonate of soda

1½ tbsp ground ginger (Fire root)

1 tsp ground cinnamon

225g gluten-free self raising flour

12 different coloured boiled sweets, crushed

In a small pan melt together the butter syrup and sugar. While this cools in a large bowl mix together the flour, bicarb, ginger and cinnamon. Add the melted butter and sugar mixture and combine well. (it may look very wet and running. Do not add extra flour. Pop in the fridge in the mixing bowl for 30 minutes before tipping out and wrapping in cling film and putting back in the fridge for another 30 minutes to firm up.

Preheat the oven to 190C/170C fan/gas 5 and line 2 baking trays with parchment paper.

Take the dough out of the fridge. Roll out the dough between two pieces of greaseproof or parchment paper to a thickness of about 5mm (¼ inch). Using a knife (or premade cookie cutter if you have one) cut out the desired shape and place on your baking trays, 6 on each.

Using a sharp knife cut out a rectangle in the centre of each biscuit. Using a teaspoon and small pieces of the crushed sweets into the hole. Pop the trays into the fridge for 15 to 20 minutes to allow the biscuits shapes to firm up again before putting in the oven.

Bake each tray individually for 11 to 13 minutes. If you are wanting to hang them, make a little hole in the top of each one before they come out of the oven before they cool. Leave on the tray to cool for at least 10 minutes. Slide the baking paper off the try with the biscuits still on them onto a cooling rack. Do not lift the biscuits off the paper until they are completely cold.

All my love Cara xxx

~*~

#she said the word #more than blood #fanfic gift #mandalorian culture #mandalorian cooking #mandalorian baking #the result of a deep hyperfixation #star wars #Obitine #mandalorians #mandalorian recipes

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colehasapen · 4 years ago

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(ONE SHOT) he says he wants to as well, but he is a liar STAR WARS

Jangobi Week Day 3 - Undercover

A03

Jango sweeps through the halls like a violent summer storm, all but spitting in anger, teeth bared in a furious snarl under his buy’ce. They had been betrayed. He had been betrayed.

Ben had betrayed him.

Almost a year ago, they had found a scrawny, underfed redhead barely out of his teen years wandering Manda’yaim , just another victim of Kyr’tsad and the Kalevalan pretenders. His story had been one that they’d all heard, orphaned by Kyr’tsad as a child and raised among the New Mandalorians’ sickening idea of foster care. They’d all considered him one of so many unlucky children, but he’d proven that he was Mandokarla despite the dar’manda way the Kalevalans had raised him, without a connection of aliit or a proper education as a Mando’ad. He hadn’t allowed himself to be brainwashed by their propaganda, had seen past it, and he hadn’t let Kryze and his ilk destroy his connection to the Manda.

They’d taken him into their homes, had welcomed him as one of them, and taught him what it had truly meant to be Mando’ad. Jango’s own vod Myles had adopted Ben Naasad into his Clan, had made him Ben Rau of House Mereel. He had given him the name and soul that had been denied to him his entire life, had helped him forge his beskar’gam and complete the verd’goten that the dar’manda New Mandalorians had never allowed.

Jango had fallen in love with him, had asked him to exchange the riduurok with him, and now he can’t help but wonder how much of it was a lie. Ben - if that even was his name - had been a spy. He had been spying on them all along, passing on everything he learned to Kryze, the Republic dog that he is.

Had it all been a lie? Had the love Ben had felt for him, for all of them, been just a ruse? All that time together, all those times they’d fallen into bed together and given over pieces of themselves to the other. The warmth in blue eyes, the sweet lingering kisses and the teasing drag of graceful hands across Jango’s skin; had it really been just a mission to Ben?

Jango had nearly torn the compound apart looking for his ven’riduur after the Republic-New Mandalorian attack that had shaken his home, when he’d learned that Ben was missing. He had figured then that they’d purposely captured the intended of the Mand’alor, had taken his captive; Ben had been sick recently, could barely get out of bed in the mornings with throwing up everything he had eaten the night before. He had been clammy and feverish, and Jango had been trying to convince his cyare to go see a baar’ur because he didn’t know how to help him. When the attack had happened, Ben should have been in the Mand’alor’s suite, resting surrounded by verde who would protect him, but Jango had returned to his rooms, victorious in repelling the attackers, to find the guards he had assigned to his ill ven’riduur unconscious on the floors.

The beskar doors that should have been protecting him had been cut away at the walls, by a lightsaber. Jango had nearly been overcome with protective terror, seeing the melted, warped stone and his missing ven’riduur who had been too sick to even get out of bed that morning, who definitely wouldn’t have been able to defend himself against a Jetii, no matter how skilled of a fighter he had grown to become over the year with the Haat’ade.

It hadn’t taken long to organize an attack group; Jango’s people loved his intended. Ben was easy to like, spunky and feisty, but gentle and kind at the same time, a vicious fighter who cared so much for ade that he spent most of his free time with the Clan children and Foundlings. He and his people had rarely ever attacked the New Mandalorians, saw it as dishonourable to fight those who wouldn’t even pick up a weapon to defend their own children, and kept most of their battles solely in negotiations - Jaster was especially good at cowing Kryze and his ilk, who took one look at the crippled former Mand’alor and thought themselves above him, who seemed to forget that it was Jaster who had made the Haat’ade who they are - but in working with Jetiise, who had nearly killed Jango and his super-commandos on Galidraan, to take Jango’s ven’riduur, they had given the Haat’ade an open invitation for war.

It had been criminally easy to take over Sundari, to steal the city out from under Duke Kryze and his Kalevalan pretenders, and retake it for Mandalore. It had been far too easy for the enraged Haat’ade to take the palace, to take custody of the children of House Kryze, to take the Duke’s youngest daughter and grandson as wards. Neither Bo-Katan or little Korkie would come to harm among the Haat’ade, instead they’d be adopted into a different Clan while House and Clan Kryze were dissolved and declared dar’manda, and the New Mandalorians and noncombatants that surrendered and swore to Jango as the Mand’alor would be given leniency and a chance to achieve cin vhetin.

It had been far too easy for all the trouble they had been giving him, but Jango had ensured his hold of Manda’yaim.

While his verde had been taking the capital, Jango had gone hunting, intent on finding where his ven’riduur had been hidden, and trusting his connection to the Manda to lead him to where he needed to go. He hadn’t been led towards the cell block like he had been expecting, instead, Jango had found himself marching through the guest wing of the palace, where the Duke’s most important visitors were to be housed. He had found his ven’riduur laying in a plush bed, looking a little green, wearing the distinctive robes of the Jetiise, the shaggy red hair that Jango had so loved running his hands through shaved down to the cut of a hibir. He’d jerked when Jango had burst into the room, staring at him with shock and fear as he’d fumbled with the hilt of a jetii’kad, and for a moment, they’d only stared at each other as Jango tried to understand what he was looking at.

He had still been processing it when the Jetii had attacked. The large Human had come out of nowhere, but Manda’s warning and the widening of Ben’s eyes had given him the time he needed to dodge the green kad’au the could have taken his off of otherwise. The fight that had followed had been a blur; his anger and fury had given him the strength he needed to win though, but the moment the Jetii’s body had dropped, Ben had screamed .

Jango had known then, what it was that his ven’riduur was.

A Jetii and a spy; but still, this was the man Jango had loved. He had ordered the baar’ur to treat him, when they’d brought him back to Keldabe, but instead of being moved to their room, like he should have been if he hadn’t betrayed them, Ben had been locked away in a cell, to await his fate while Jango finished up meeting with his council and setting up a loyal governor to take over Sundari. He’d taken longer than he usually would, trying to work his way through the tangled knot of hurt betrayal in his heart, had tried to ignore the ache in his chest.

He’d only had one heart to give, after all, and he’d given it willingly to a man who had been lying about everything.

Jango meets Myles outside of the cell block. His vod’s hurt is a palpable thing in the air around him; Myles had loved Ben too, just as much as Jango did, and his vod’ika’s betrayal had hurt him just as much as it had the young Mand’alor.

Wordlessly, Jango claps his battle-bonded brother’s shoulder in support, and Myles’ buy’ce dips. They’re both silent for a long moment, taking strength from each other just as they would on the battlefield, before Myles speaks.

“It couldn’t have all been a lie.” He says slowly, and the vocoder in his buy’ce may hide a lot of things, but Jango knows his vod just as well as he knows himself, he can hear the shakiness of unshed tears, the cracking of a broken heart, and Jango squeezes the other man’s shoulder. “Right?”

Jango thinks of the man he had fallen in love with; thinks of the genuine kindness and delight in blue eyes, and fiery spirit of a fighter that couldn’t be faked - the way he had flourished learning the ways of a Haat’ad. Ben had kneeled at his feet and sworn to the resol’nare, had declared his desire to follow the path for cin vhetin. He had kissed Jango with such gentle passion, had let Jango show him how to make love, and had accepted Jango’s proposal to become one.

Not all of it could have been a lie. No one could have faked all that for over a year; not even a Jetii.

A memory rises above his distress, of ancient texts and listening to his Buir late at night as they’d gone over the history of Mandalore. There were ways, old ones, to truly seek cin vhetin, Jango remembers, and once the idea is there, it takes root and flowers. Ben had sworn to cin vhetin, had sworn to a fresh start, and there were ways Jango could lead him on that path. Ways that not even the Jetiise could poison.

But he wants to hear what Ben has to say first.

“We won’t let it be a lie.” He swears to Myles, watching the way he perks up, despite his confusion. “Ben is one of us - whatever he was before doesn’t matter anymore. He swore cin vhetin, and that’s what he’ll do.” With that, Jango steps past his second, feeling the other man fall in step behind him more than he sees him, and they sweep deeper into the cell block.

In front of him and just outside of the only occupied cell on this level, Baar’ur Nawara straightens. Helmetless, the Twi’Lek salutes, “Mand’alor!” Xe greets, and Jango nods to the older Mando’ad.

Beyond the red laser shield, Ben sits huddled on his cot, back to them and eyes on the wall, and Jango can’t force his eyes away from his ven’riduur despite his words being for his baar’ur. “Anything to report, Nawara?” A flinch travels up his ven’riduur’s spine.

“'Lek , alor.” A gesture of a hand signals for the doctor to speak, and Nawara only hesitates momentarily. “I ran some tests, to see what could be making him so ill, and I received some positive results.” Xe swallows nervously, “He’s pregnant, Mand’alor, just past eleven weeks. The fetal DNA is a fifty-percent match to yours.”

Jango stills, and he watches Ben - his pregnant ven’riduur - shiver. The joy of learning that he’s going to be a Buir is undercut by his anger at his cyare for leaving, but now, he can’t help but wonder how willing Ben had been to leave. He could have easily let the Jetii into their suite if he was really running, could have left, but instead the Jetii that Jango had killed had forced his way in, had cut down the blast doors and taken him. Ben could have interfered in their battle at any time, could have leapt to the Jetii’s defense, but instead he’d watched. He hadn’t even fought when Jango had sedated him for transfer back to Keldabe, and the Mand’alor knows that he could have.

Perhaps Ben had come to them as a spy - but it seems likely that he’d grown to genuinely want to be among the Haat’ade.

“Why?” Jango’s voice pierces the silence that had followed the doctor’s words, but they’re not aimed at Nawara.

“I was given a mission.” Ben’s voice is quiet, thick with tears, but he doesn’t look at Jango, and he’s no longer using the Kalevalan accent he must have appropriated for his deception, it’s High Coruscanti instead, but Jango can hear the underlining burr of the Concord Dawn accent his knows his ven’riduur had picked up from him. “I was to infiltrate the Haat’ade and report back to my Master. To ensure you didn’t get more of a foothold on Manda’yaim, and to support Duke Kryze and his Heiress’ claim to the system.” His head droops lower, “The Senate wants access to the beskar mines, but can’t move openly because of the treaties, not without looking like the aggressor to the other systems. I’m young enough that it was decided that I was the best option to complete this half of our mission; an orphan of the Clan Wars looking to join you would be more believable than a man nearing his fifties.” Ben’s voice breaks, and Jango wants desperately to hold him, to comfort him and wipe away his tears.

“But it wasn’t about the mission anymore.” Jango says slowly, “Was it? If it was just a mission, you wouldn’t have accepted my courtship, wouldn’t have let me fuck you -” Ben twitches, “- because you’re not that kind of person, are you, Ben?”

“It’s Obi-Wan.” Ben whispers, voice cracking, “Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“No, it’s not.” Jango states, voice confident, “You swore cin vhetin. Obi-Wan Kenobi no longer exists.” Slowly, the Mand’alor steps forward, keying himself into the cell and pulling off his buy’ce as he moves. “A fresh start - who you were before no longer matters.” He comes to a stop next to the cell cot, and slowly reaches out a hand. His fingers move through short, prickly strands of copper hair that lack the waves that he had grown to associate with his ven’riduur, and his nose crinkles at the sight of the ugly nerftail and braid he wore. Neither would be comfortable under his buy’ce . Ben melts into the touch like he always does, hiccuping faintly on a sob. “You’re Ben Rau, of House Mereel, soon to be of Clan Fett.”

“This wasn’t part of the mission.” Ben sobs, one hand pressing against his stomach as he lifts his head so that Jango could meet his ven’riduur’s bloodshot eyes and see the tears trailing across freckled cheeks. His gaze is pleading. “Master Qui-Gon said I was getting too attached, and ordered my extraction. You were never part of the mission.” He shakes like a newborn striil, “I didn’t want to leave.”

Jango steps forward again, gathering his cyare into his arms and letting the younger man collapse against him. “K’uur.” The Mand’alor soothes, “I know, Ben. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

In his arms, Ben breaks, but Jango is confident in his ability to help him put himself back together.

Taglist: @a-mediocre-succulent @yellowisharo @spoofymcgee @roseofalderaan @everything-or-anything @bellablue42 @tumceteri-fratres

#cole writes #jangobi week 2021 #jangobi week day 3 #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #Jangobi #alternate universe #mandalorian obi wan kenobi #true mandalorians #star wars fanfiction #myles (star wars)#mand'alor jango fett #jaster mereel lives

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swanandphoenixsong · 3 years ago

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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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iellarenuodolorian · 4 years ago

Text

Mandoctober Day 9

Darksaber

Summary: The first part of this prompt is dedicated to what we actually know about the Darksaber from the cartoon shows. After the “〰️”is when my AU takes over and I get carried away with how it came to be in a certain someone’s possession.

Words: 3.5k (YIKES sorry ya’ll I got carried away!)

Warnings: war, death, fighting, angst (mild), scattered fluff

Pairing: Din DjarinxF!mandalorian reader

~2BBY

The strangest event had happened. Bo-Katan had returned to your clan with a new gift. It was the Darksaber.

As you stared at the silver hilt in Bo’s hands, you tried to remember what you knew about this legendary weapon.

It was created centuries ago by Tarre Vizsla, the only Mandalorian to ever be part of the Jedi Order. The Jedi must have been different back then for Vizsla to agree to be one of them. No Mandalorian these days would agree to such atrocity. Tarre used his skills as a Jedi to bring peace to the war torn Mandalorians and for the first time in centuries Mandalorians knew what peace was. But that peace did not last, because after Tarre died, the peace he had worked so hard to build was torn apart and Mandalorians were at war with each other again.

After Vizsla died, the Jedi kept his saber in their temple, as a relic. House Vizsla “liberated” it from the hands of the Jedi, and the Darksaber became a symbol of leadership to all Mandalorians after Vizsla had wielded it for so long and lead the Mandalorians to peace. That wasn’t to say that whoever wielded the Darksaber was fit to always be Mand’alor. Anyone who wished could challenge them to combat for the right to be Mand’alor. Mandalorians had always believed only the strongest should lead, and only the strongest should wield such a relic.

House Vizsla had kept the Darksaber in their clan for many years, and the next Vizsla to have a history with the Darksaber was Pre Vizsla. During the Clone War, he created a group of Mandalorians who believed in the old ways, not the pacifist ways of Duchess Satine and her followers. Vizsla and his group he named the Death Watch, Kyr’tsad, were a rogue group of lawless killers who obeyed no one and only followed Pre because he brought them glory in combat. The goal of Death Watch was to liberate Mandalore from their pacifist enemies and restore the mando’ade to Mandalore. Originally Death Watch aligned themselves with the Sepratists, but after many failed attempts to take Mandalore back Death Watch the alliance is broken and Death Watch sets out to try and build their own army.

Death Watch stumbled upon two Sith brothers, Pre makes the mistake of thinking that because these brothers are Sith they could be allies and be joined by their hatred of Jedi. Little does Pre know that Maul is only using Death Watch to start his own crime syndicate, Crimson Dawn. Maul has his own agenda which does NOT include taking back Mandalore in a timely manner.

When Pre realizes this, he challenges Maul to a fight, that he ultimately loses. Bo had told you this part of the story because she had been close with Pre, once upon a time. Watching Maul kill Pre was horrifying for Bo and because she believed no outsider, aruetii, should rule and wield the Darksaber, she deserted and took a handful of loyal Mandalorians with her.

Bo returned to Mandalore with her nephew to break her sister out of jail, but with no small amount of convincing from her nephew, Korkie Kryze. The small group only managed to escape to the edge of the city of Sundari where Satine managed to send a transmission to Master Kenobi with a plea for help. Master Kenobi showed up some time later, only to also fail in his attempt to save Satine, and Master Kenobi was forced to watch as Maul killed Satine with the Darksaber. Bo and the Nite Owls helped Master Kenobi to escape and told him to tell the Jedi Council what has happened but to keep the Republic from sending troops to occupy Mandalore.

After many years of recruiting loyal Mandalorians to her cause, Bo set out with a small group of her loyal Nite Owls to find a Jedi she had met years before when she was part of Death Watch. Bo had hoped that if she could find this Jedi she could use said Jedi to recruit help from the Jedi council to take back Mandalore from Maul. Bo and the Nite Owls eventually found this Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and recruited her to train in the Mandalorian ways. Ahsoka eventually agreed to talk with her old Masters, Kenobi and Skywalker, and see if there was a way to send troops to Mandalore to capture Maul.

Ahsoka was given command of half of the 501st Legion, and the Siege of Mandalore started. It was a long and bloody six months, with neither side making any sort of gain. Maul eluded capture again and again, and finally, after most of Sundari was in flames, was Maul finally captured. Except the Darksaber was nowhere to be found. Maul must have hidden it somewhere only he knew, and now this ancient relic that could unite all the Mandalorian clans was lost, possibly forever.

The Force works in mysterious ways, you could testify to that from your own life experiences, and the Darksaber was not lost forever. A member of House Wren, Clan Vizsla, had come across a shrine on the planet Dathomir dedicated to the late Duchess Satine, and on a pedestal was the Darksaber. Having stolen the saber from Dathomir, this member of House Wren was reluctant to learn to wield it. She knew the responsibility and power it carried and felt that she didn’t deserve it. But after accepting who she could be, Sabine Wren accepted that the Darksaber had come to her for a reason. Sabine was dedicated to the Rebellion, and knew she could not divide her loyalties between her Mandalorian family and her Rebellion family. She passed on the Darksaber to Bo-Katan to unite the clans and to take back Mandalore.

〰️

Bo-Katan traveled to some of the larger clans to ask for warriors to come out of hiding and to take back their home with her. Many joined, only some stayed behind to protect those too young to fight and to pass the Mandalorian culture on to the next generation.

Many thousands of Mandalorians gathered Carlac to form the army that would take back Mandalore. You were an anxious mess, knowing at some point Din Djarin would show up and you would be able to see him again after more than a year of being apart. In the last decade you had only managed to spend a few days with him once a year, in a cold dark corner of space hiding from the rest of the Galaxy in stolen moments of passion. The passion was like a supernova, burning hot and bright for a short period of time, only to implode into a black hole with the loneliness and depression of being separated again after such a short time.

It was two days before the attack was to take place, and you were going over plans and cleaning your armor and weapons. You had spent the day training and catching up with Ailyn to distract yourself from the fact that Din still had not come to join the attack group. Ailyn had to end the session early, you were taking all your frustrations out on her. You were so focused on polishing your helmet and checking the wiring in your HUD you failed to notice someone sneaking into your tent. You whirled, blaster aimed, ready to tackle the intruder when he threw his hands up shouting “Hey, its just me! Udesii.”

“Jare’la di’kut.” You lowered your blaster and sighed to yourself in frustration. You watched Din take his helmet off and gently toss it onto your makeshift cot. His arms reached for you at the same time as yours and you wrapped each other in the tightest of embraces, holding on to each other for as long as possible, afraid this was only a dream.

Din began pressing kisses into your neck, as your hands found his curls, gently tugging and pushing the curls around. Din kissed his way up your jaw, and finally his lips found yours. Not wasting any time you eagerly pushed your tongue against his lips, just begging to taste him. It had been so long and you had almost forgotten what his kisses were like.

After you had finished reacquainting your mouths with each other, armor was removed and set at the end of your bed. You had gone out for food and brought it back to your tent, so you and Din could share a meal in peace and catch up.

“How are things going with the Bounty Hunters Guild these days?” You asked him.

“Work is work.” He shrugged as he took another bite. “I keep busy, nothing is too challenging. Sometimes it's almost too easy. But then I remember I’m getting older, and my back loves to remind me of that fact.” You laughed at his statement, almost spitting out your bite of food.

“You are not old! Because if you are old, then so am I and I am NOT ready to accept that fact of life. We are just hitting our prime!”

The rest of the meal was spent with Din telling stories about some of his more, eventful, bounties while you shared that you had not been doing much but traveling to the different hidden clans making sure they had enough supplies and that no one was trying to kill each other. Bo-Katan had given her Nite Owls the task of making sure the clans were taken care of in hiding.

It was late when you had finished telling your stories, so you curled up next to Din under the blankets. Using his shoulder as a pillow, you curled up next to him trying to be as close to him as possible. You would only have tonight to enjoy him as much as possible, tomorrow night everyone was to load up and head out to make the jump to Mandalore. You played with his hair until if put both of you to sleep, and for just one gloriously perfect night, you slept peacefully.

You wished you could always wake up to Din in the morning, his bed head was legendary. You weren’t sure if it was from sleeping, you playing with it in your sleep, or both. Either way his face in the soft morning light made you wish for just a moment that you both had different lives and that it was possible for you to always wake up like this.

The day was spent doing some light training with Ailyn and Din, making sure everyone’s weapons were functioning at 110%, armor was polished and functioning properly, and everyone’s munitions belts fully stocked with charges and spare power packs. When everything was as ready as it could be, you, Din and Ailyn went to your respective ships to start the pre-flight checklist. Your secure comlink connection to Din’s helmet kept you entertained through the checklist as you talked about silly memories to keep you distracted from the nerves of the coming battle. It was entirely possible that one of both of you would not return from this mission.

You were leading the squadron of Gauntlet fighters to the underground tunnels in Sundari. Your group was tasked with taking the tunnels while Ailyn was taking a group to secure the loading docks. Bo-Katan was taking another group to the Palace to capture Saxon, and secure the throne.

As soon as your group came out of hyperspace, something in your mind was screaming, “trap!!” The recon and intel that had been gathered for weeks before the mission had to be accurate, there was no way that the Empire could have changed anything in such a short amount of time. You would have to trust your training, which was more like automatic reflexes, and trust Bo-Katan and her strategy.

Suddenly, a Star Destroyer came out of hyperspace on your port side. I have a bad feeling about this, you thought to yourself as swarms of TIEs came streaming out of the Destroyer.

Bo-Katan’s voice sounded over your speakers, “All fighters head for the surface! Only engage if you have to. We need as many troops on the ground as we can get!”

After dozens of close calls, minimal damage, and only one Gauntlet lost along the way, your team made it to the surface. Your thoughts momentarily wandered to Din, wondering if he had managed to make it to the surface with Bo. He was part of her group responsible for taking the Palace. But you had to focus leading your own group through the tunnels so that you could set as many traps for later when Imperial troops were fleeing.

The Imperials were more than prepared for your attack on the tunnels. The nagging feeling in your mind that something was just wrong kept pushing its way to the front of your thoughts. You were met with squads of stormtroopers at every junction in the tunnels, and it was taking far too long to try and flank them to get around and to the central drain that would lead to the surface of Sundari. You knew the surviving members of your group would need to be split between reinforcing the loading docks and helping to secure the Palace. But something was just wrong about the entire situation. The stormtroopers seemed to know every move before you even made it. If you didn’t know better you would have said that whoever was leading them had a book on Mandalorian tactics and had studied it very well.

After what felt like days of fighting, your group had finally reached the main tunnel that led to the surface. With your comm working again, you reached out to Ailyn to see how her fight was going at the docks. Her group had things held down for now, but Ailyn had not heard from Bo-Katan in hours. She should have checked in by now with a report, good or bad. And that was when the nagging feeling hit home. Something had gone terribly wrong in the Palace, and the two people who meant the most to you in the Galaxy were stuck in the trap. You had to come up with a plan, but what?

You couldn’t just charge into the Palace, shooting at anything that moved and being a one woman show. The Mand’alor was in there, probably held captive by Saxon, and surrounded by troopers. Ailyn pulled up a holo of the Palace, and together the leaders of the four squads that were going to pull off this rescue mission.

With a plan in place, you took your squad on the long route to the throne room. Ailyn was going to create a distraction with an attack at the front, one squad served as the backup for any team that needed extra firepower, while the last squad was being saved as the last effort to save the mission.

You were amazed at how many troopers were stationed in the palace, far more than there should have been after the estimate you had added up in your head from your own experience in the tunnels and from what Ailyn had told you from the docks. The only way that there could have been this many troops to reinforce the original recon numbers was if a Moff or someone higher than that in High Command had pulled strings to make sure Mandalore did not fall.

The nagging feeling in your mind only grew stronger the closer to the throne room that your squad came. You knew Din was still alive, and you hoped that Bo-Katan was alive too. Without her the clans would surely fall into civil war again, and this time it would be a civil war that ended the Mandalorian culture.

Upon finally reaching the doors to the throne room, both yours and Ailyn’s squads stormed the room, taking out the troopers stationed around the spacious room with ease.

Your eyes fell to the throne, and the man sitting on it. That man was not Tiber Saxon. Who was this man with dark hair and dark skin, and black stormtrooper armor?

“My name is Moff Gideon.” A baritone voice drawled. “You may remember me from years past as the Imperial Security Bureau Agent in charge of rounding up and executing Mandalorian traitors to the Empire. As you can see I managed to escape from that pitiful prison the Rebels tried to hold me in. You do not know the extent of the powers I have, nor the powerful friends I have in high places. You have underestimated me. And now you will pay for your costly mistake.”

He ignited the Darksaber, and held it to Bo-Katan’s neck. “Lay down your weapons and surrender if you want your precious Mand’alor to live. I have no qualms using this blade to kill her, and the rest of you for that matter.”

With a glance at Ailyn, you knew that your final contingency plan was going to be called into action. Din wasn’t too far away, with a jump and a quick burst of your jetpack, you should be able to protect him from what was about to happen.

“Lower your weapons. Now.” More troopers began filing in from behind the throne, and slowly you and Ailyn signaled to your troops to set their blasters on the floor. The audio sensors in your helmet had picked up the sound of the jetpacks of the fourth squad, and your jump to protect Din had to be timed perfectly or it would give the whole plan away. 3… 2… 1…. JUMP!

You wrapped Din up in your arms and curled your body around him as much as possible to protect him from the missiles that were being sent into the throne room from the Mandalorians outside. Ailyn made a jump similar to yours for Bo-Katan, and in the chaos of the dust and blaster bolts the Mandalorians made their escape.

Back on the base at Carlac, you and Ailyn sat down to talk about what happened with Bo-Katan. She would need several days rest before she could be moved back to her clan’s hiding spot.

“Who was that man and how did he manage to defeat us so easily?” You asked her.

“Many years ago, in the first Siege of Mandalore, when we asked the Republic for help in dethroning Maul we made the mistake of thinking the Republic was on the right side. It turns out we only made it easier for the Empire to occupy Mandalore after the Clone War ended. Gideon was put in place to oversee the submission of Mandalorians to the Empire. When we refused, we were imprisoned and killed. Gideon spent his time interrogating his prisoners before he would kill them, so he could learn as much as possible about us to make it easier for him to wipe us out. And now he possesses the Darksaber. I fear Mandalore is lost, for without the Darksaber to unite the clans there will be civil war again. We must go into deeper hiding, to protect ourselves, our families, and our way of life.”

After saying goodnight, you and Ailyn left Bo to sleep for the night. Tomorrow would come and be a new day to look at the problems facing the Mandalorians.

You told Ailyn you wanted to check on Din before heading to your tent, and admitted you would probably end up staying with him for the night.

As you walked into his room, you saw he was already asleep. The droid had told you outside that he would be fine, his wounds had already been healed with some bacta slave. The only injury that would require a bit longer to heal was the broken ribs. You walked over to his side, and kissed his head brushing a few curls off to the side and running your fingers through to the ends a few times. Tears formed in your eyes as you thought about everything that had happened the last few days, and how you could have lost him. You refused to let more than one tear fall though, because he was here and everything was going to be fine.

You pulled up a chair next to his bed, and laid your head on your arms next to his legs, and wrapped your hands around his and fell asleep with your face next to his hand.

In your dreams, you had visions of a man in silver beskar’gam, wielding the Darksaber. He felt familiar to you in the way that dreams tend to blur the line between reality and dreamland, but in dreamland grasping at familiarity is like trying to smell colors in reality.

Aruetii- traitor, foreigner, or outsider [ah-roo-AY-tee]

Mand’alor- sole ruler [MAHN-dah-lor]

Mando’ade- sons and/or daughters of Mandalore [mando-AH-day]

Kyr’tsad- Death Watch (lit. Death Society) [KEERT-sahd]

Udesii- take it easy/calm down/relax [oo-DAY-see]

Jare’la di’kut- you’re asking for it dumbass [jah-RAY-lah DEE-koot]

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Thank you for taking the time to read my silly little story!! It mean the world to me 💙💙

#mandoctober #the mandalorian #din djarin #my fics #I’m actually really proud of this one #ive probably peaked with this chapter and the rest of the month will be a flop

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twinterrors29 · 4 years ago

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so Korkie Kryze

Satine’s nephew

where did he come from?

a lot of people, for good reason, believe he’s Satine and Obi-Wan’s son, because, among other things, Satine’s only known sibling is Bo-Katan, who absolutely would not have let her sister raise her son as a pacifist

but there are two ways someone can have a nephew

the first is if your sibling has a son, which in this case is not terribly likely

the other is if your sibling-in-law has a son

so if Obi-Wan had a sibling with a child, and something happened to them, you can’t tell me that even a pacifist Mando’ad would turn down the opportunity to take in a nephew if he needed somewhere to go and his uncle couldn’t help

so in conclusion: Korkie really is Satine’s nephew, but that doesn’t mean he’s not also a Kenobi

#star wars #the clone wars #korkie kryze #satine kryze #obi wan kenobi

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direwolfrules · 2 years ago

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3 Mandos and a Baby AU: The OCs Part 1

I have a bunch of Mando OCs that I’m just throwing into this AU willynilly because I firmly believe New Mando society wasn’t just a bunch of identical tall blondes and like 1 red head. I’m not letting Clone Wars budget constraints also constrain my imagination. Plus I need competent people to replace all the corrupt folks that get taken down and more characters to flesh out the world. A little disclaimer: only the human/near human OCs on this list have portraits because I can’t draw so I’m using Artbreeder.

Harik Vhen:

I’ve finally given everyone’s favorite theater mando a name (okay, my favorite theater mando). Harik’s family were Haat Mando’ade from the planet Vanquo, which despite technically belonging to the Republic controlled Meerian sector, has a long history of being conquered by Mandalore. After the massacre at Galidraan his family integrated into New Mandalorian society so they could survive. What was left of his clan found work in the smuggling business.

Harik’s parents taught him the True Mandalorian way of life. They had to do it in secret, but they were adamant their people’s legacy, and the legacy of Mandalore the Reformer, would not die with them.

Though they weren’t important in the least, Harik’s folks managed to get him into the Royal Academy of Government on one of Duchess Satine’s culture scholarships. His obsession with musical theatre actually had a use, who knew?

Because the Academy’s administration is elitist as hell, all the kids from lesser clans seem to get grouped together. They get the crappiest dorm rooms, the worst class schedules, and depending on the professor, the harshest grading. Harik’s been passed over for staring roles since he was eight, and has to endure the mocking of his more “noble” peers. It’ll all be okay though once he graduates and gets a job in the Ministry of Culture. Then he’ll be able to afford a place in the Sundari mid-levels for his clan, and they won’t have to risk prision just to ensure the ad’ike won’t starve.

He’s a little betrayed when his friend and roommate Alrich Taldyn (Alrich needed a maiden name okay? It was bugging me not having a canon one) starts seeing the heiress to Clan Wren of Krownest, but what’s he gonna do? All his doubts about her vanish the moment the weirdly prescient heir to Kalevala introduces them properly and Harik gets drawn into the most mandokar plot ever.

Vel Batin:

After Korkie and company purge the corrupt from Mandalore’s government, their sector needs a new Senator. Enter Vel Batin, veteran of the Great Clan Wars, former Captain of the Ordo system Protectors, and three-term Mayor of the city of Keldabe.

She’s a certified badass with an axe to grind against the Republic. She lost family on Galidraan, two siblings and six cousins gone within a day, all because the illustrious Republic Judiciary Forces couldn’t do more than two minutes of research. When Mand’alor Kryze announces they’re going to be running the elections for Senator a bit early this year, Batin applies immediately. She makes it clear when meeting with the young Mand’alor that should she get the job she will take every opportunity to throw mud at the Senate. Korkie is ecstatic to hear this and endorses her for the position.

The Clone Wars break out right when Senator Batin is elected, and she gets the pleasure of spending time with Korkie and his friends on the journey to Coruscant. His plan for a clone freedom trail is particularly interesting to her, and they spend much of the flight hashing out the details. Whatever reservations she may have had about swearing allegiance to a 16 year old are quickly washed away by how competent he seems.

The get to Coruscant, Senator Batin is sworn in, and then she turns the pod over to Korkie. Vel has plenty she wants to say, but she figures she’ll get plenty of chances to tear into the Senate. Let the Mand’alor have this one.

She becomes an active participant in the Mando-clone freedom trail, and before the first year of war is over she’s already adopted like seven clone sons. Three of them are fully grown clone troopers, while the other four range from physically 15-ish to freshly decanted tubies. All of them have a “defect” of some kind.

Her three adult clone sons are Rex’s original batch brothers. They were split up when they were four (equivalent to eight standard) due to all of them having minor defects (for fucks sake Nala Se blue eyes isn’t a defect). Despite the longnecks looking for any excuse to kill them, most of their batch makes it off Kamino. Except for Farr, whose only crime was having hair that was a bit too curly for the cloners. While the Coronet Kryze-Kenobi holodrama is going on her and Rex are swapping stories and commlinks so he can talk to his brothers.

Solus Bralor:

The older of the two Bralor twins, Solus’s parents made the immensely creative decision to name her one, and her sister two. The twins have Barolian heritage, hence their offensively blue hair (well, hence Solus’s offensively blue hair. T’ad dyes hers).

She’s an angry edgelord of a kid. She’s totally bought into the propaganda that Duchess Satine is committing genocide against Mandalorian culture. She’s never even so much as spoken to a New Mando, but her buire used to say so, before they died in the 2nd battle of Concord Dawn. Now it’s just her, her twin, their older brother, and their little sibling.

Solus’s loyal to her family, Pre Vizsla, and the Nite Owls, in that order. In the last timeline, she was one of those who sided with Maul’s Shadow Collective. In this timeline, Bo-Katan manages to turn her against Pre with the help of foreknowledge.

In Bo’s last timeline the youngest Bralor, Tio, died because Pre ordered the younger cadets through a live fire exercise. Tio was only seven, and died because they were only seven. In this timeline Bo just happens to be drilling her Nite Owls near the range where Pre’s just straight up shooting children. A couple of daring jetpack maneuvers later and Tio’s being handed off to their shocked siblings while Bo-Katan throws every insult she knows at Pre.

Later, when Bo’s proudly wearing the shiner Pre gave her in response to her tearing him a new asshole (the Nite Owls know that’s not the only bruise she got, they all share a barracks), all four Bralor siblings basically consider her their new god.

T’ad Bralor:

T’ad has spent her whole life following her sister. One and two, Solus and T’ad. It’s just who they are. T’ad even died her hair to better match her sister. When her sister set her mind to joining Lady Bo-Katan’s Nite Owls, T’ad joined her in the training yard. When Solus volunteered for a mission, T’ad would be next to raise her hand. And when Solus sided with Maul’s Shadow Collective over Lady Bo-Katan, T’ad followed her. Followed her right into the grave.

T’ad is smart. Capable. But she lacks any ambition outside of following her sister. Their brother Tracyn worries about that, but she always insists she’s fine. Honestly, she does have a hobby that’s seperate from Solus. Tracyn doesn’t think that setting up a bi-weekly karaoke night for her unit counts as a hobby, but he drops it for now.

When Korkie takes over Mandalore he needs a PR department and Harik recruits T’ad to his staff. She tries to turn it down, she really doesn’t like to do something without her sister, but Harik tells her no. She’s his only other department member and he needs someone to sort through the eighty billion videos of Korkie being an adorable dork. This position is an honor for her, her clan, and anyone else would be chomping at the bit to get this job, so just take it dammit! (She takes the job)

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