#Pre Vizsla dies

[mercurydancer]

An Unexpected Chance Pt. 20

Taking Overs and Happenings

_

Boba would give Jango the pleasure of seeing all that he might have become had he grown up with a loving and caring father... - R. A Salvatore, Attack of the Clones Novelization

"The government he would serve would be Authority personified. Human Authority… At war's end the aliens would be crushed, stripped of all they possessed, and their systems and their wealth would be given to the hands of the only beings who could be trusted with them. Human beings. Dooku would serve an Empire of Man."

"He's no longer even entirely human. With Grievous, the use of those bio-droid devices is almost forgivable; he was such a disgusting creature already that his mechanical parts are clearly an improvement. But a blend of droid and human? Appalling. The depths of bad taste." [Dooku to Sidious about working with Anakin] - Revenge of the Sith Novelization Matthew Stover pg. 49; 51

(and anyway did you all know that Dooku was a racist ableist bitch because I tell you the fuck what... Dave Filoni makes those fucking weird choices broskis.)

_

          Shmi Skywalker stood on the exit ramp leading to a place that a piece of her heart had always lingered, and yet had never seen, and knew that it was time.

          Her husband, Cliegg beside her, Owen and his wife Beru, behind them, and even further back four Nightbrothers that had joined them in their quest, had become a part of the White Sun. To free others like them, certainly, to find the one that had saved them, absolutely.

          Shmi took a few steps into the Jedi Temple Hanger, aware of the eyes that were on her, the recognition that spread, and wondered how long it would take before…

          The doors at the far end of the hanger burst open, and for a moment Shmi was staring at the living embodiment of her own heart, staring at a young man in dark Jedi robes, Padawan haircut strange and resplendent, blue eyes that held the skies of Tatooine within them, and a smile that rivaled the sun.

          Ani.

          Her boy ran towards her with more speed than seemed possible, and enveloped her in warmth, in the depth of his love, and in that one moment it did not matter that he was taller than her, it did not matter that she could feel the power that radiated towards her in a way she never could when he was young… All that mattered was the arms that were wrapped around her belonged to her boy.

          Shmi Skywalker Lars was holding her son, and it was like no time at all had passed.

          Shmi pulled back slowly, reaching up to brush her hand through her son’s bristly hair, taking the padawan braid in her hand. She looked over the beading, the careful weaving, and then looked to her son’s eyes, smiling.

          “I am so proud of you.”

          Anakin’s eyes filled with tears, and he smiled at her. “Mom,” he said softly.

          “Hello, Ani,” she said, “it’s so good to see you.”

          “It’s…” Anakin took a step back, wiping his eyes, “it’s so good to see you,” and then he looked back at the others, taking in her small family – their small family, and the Brothers they had with them. “What…what brings you here?”

          “I came to see my baby,” Shmi said. “But I have also come to reunite Brothers and because White Sun was called.” She smiled at him, “You apparently have a lot of slaves to help free. We are only the first, the Mandalorians are coming as well.”

          “The Mandalorians?” Anakin asked, and then blinked, looking back at the Brothers, and then smiling at her. “You’ve been working with Maul.”

          “We have,” Shmi smiled. “But before he gets here come, I need to introduce you to some people.” Shmi took his hand and brought him over, standing him before her small family. “This is Cliegg Lars, he is my husband.”

          “Hello, son,” Cliegg said, and then almost immediately winced, “not…that I have to call you that now, you…you likely have to get used to the idea. I understand. I’m sorry, I…”

          “I…have a dad?” Anakin asked, his nose wrinkling slowly as he looked at him, and Shmi laughed aloud.

          “You do,” she said, walking forward to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek, and then taking Owen by the hand, “and this is Owen, he is your step-brother, and this is Beru – his wife.”

          Anakin absolutely boggled, and Shmi could not stop the laughter that rose in her chest, the warmth in her at seeing her small family interact. The Brothers were hanging back, but there was nonetheless a quiet sort of joy in the way they watched. Once Anakin seemed to have settled into the idea of having this bit of family, once he had realized that they were not vanishing, and could see the way they loved each other, could see the way they fit, Shmi took the hand of the oldest brother and led him forward, smiling at seeing how the brothers linked hands together, all approaching as one.

          “Anakin,” she said, getting his attention, “this is Venom,” she said indicating the tallest and the oldest, his tattoo markings standing out black on orange, “this is Spite,” she said about the shortest, who stood beside him, tattoos curling and elegant. “This is Grudge,” she said about the one whose skin was the darkest and whose tattoos were sharp and black. “And this is Wrath,” she indicated the last, skin yellow as the sun, and eyes quick. “They are looking for the one that saved them. They are looking for Maul.”

          “They have found him,” Maul’s voice rang out, and Shmi turned her attention back finding him standing there as well as other faces that she had grown more familiar with over the years, as well as two other Brothers.

          Shmi smiled, she remembered the reports from Soln, she knew who was standing there.

          Maul had brothers. She supposed the ochre one was Feral, the one that had been with Soln as he took him to the Temple. The other, Savage…well, she had been less than pleased to hear the report from the one that took him.

          Hondo was always a pain to deal with, made worse when he was preening, and he had been preening about something even more annoying given the fact that Shmi found herself interested. Shmi looked directly at Maul and found herself smiling.

          “I see that you have found yourself restored,” she said. “I am pleased to see it, though I see it came with a few added centimeters?” she raised a brow, smiling. Maul ducked his head briefly and she laughed quietly, approaching, and standing before him, putting her hands on his shoulders. His skin was warm, and whole, and he stood before her silently as she looked him over. “You look good,” she said.

          “Thank you,” Maul said. “It is good to see you, thank you for coming.” He paused. “Why did you come?”

          Shmi smiled, “I was called,” she said, backing away, and looked to Mace who approached, his hands folded before him. “I hear you have a lot of Blood Slaves that need help.”

          “We do,” Mace said. “I do not believe it will be the same that you usually deal with, but we are not sure. Tiq has been the one that has been talking to them the most, and he will be able to help.”

          “Healer Tiq, who helped both of my boys, where is this Rodian, I would like to thank him.”

          “Oh!” a voice called, and her attention swiveled to a blue Rodian, who took a few steps forward. She met his red eyes and smiled. “Hello,” he called out as he approached, and her smile widened, reaching out to take his hand that he was very happy to give her. “It is good to meet you in person, congrats on your marriage.” He dipped his head to her husband, and smiled at her family, and Shmi watched as her husband glowed, taking a few steps forward.

          “Thank you,” he said. “I got the best deal out of it, I’m sure.”

          Shmi laughed, “Hush.” She turned to Tiq again, taking in his smile, “thank you for doing what you have. Thank you for taking care of them.”

          “Of course,” Tiq said softly, “I had much help.” And the look he gave her was warm and significant, the Rodian that she had spent much time talking to through all hours as the night as they worked together a dear friend. “They have both been wonderful and I am proud of them every day.”

          “So am I,” Shmi smiled, and squeezed his hands in both of hers, before turning to look at Maul. “I brought more of your Brothers. They have been wishing to see you, and have been very patient.”

          Maul took a moment to look at Shmi, and then to turn his attention to the Brothers, Shmi very aware of the way Wrath took a few steps forward first, the others slowly following. But as Maul watched, as his attention fixed they froze. Shmi watched as Maul’s hand curled into a slight fist, and she could see the slow shifting of something like grief, something like sadness in his eyes.

          Feral walked forward then, laughing, and carefully hooked his horns in his brother’s, and as he did Shmi could suddenly see the resemblance for what it was, could see the similarity in jaw, in facial structure, and she beamed. Feral tugged Maul’s head into a gentle angle, pointing the horns off to the side, careful, “Don’t worry,” he called, “come on, Wrath, my brother is not going to fight. He was enslaved by another Master; he does not know yet how to make friends. We shall teach him, though, yes?”

          And Shmi watched the realization spread, even as Maul’s body language relaxed, as he fell further into the invitation, and Wrath’s face spread into a wide smile.

          “Of course, we will teach him much!” and the laughter that bubbled in his voice was audible. “First lesson, then?”

          “Destructions are always better when~”

          Shmi caught the way Feral whispered to his brother, caught the moment when Maul started to stiffen and then very carefully relaxed, and that was the moment when Wrath barreled into him.

          Maul allowed himself to be rolled over in a tangled mess of fabric and limbs and laughter, helped along by the others immediately working to join in, squishing in close, Maul sitting in the middle of a tangle of brothers, including two of his own blood…

          Shmi was aware of the tears that slid down her cheeks.

          Shmi did not care, unable to stop, and unwilling to, pride and joy mixing in her chest. She remembered the young man that had first found them, the one that was looking so hard for a place to belong, a place where he could be himself, a place where he could learn… To see this…? It was all that she had ever hoped for and more.

          Shmi could also see…the moment when it began getting too much.

          Maul was a complicated and utterly tragic combination of touch-starved and so utterly alone that overstimulation was not just likely it was almost always close to the surface. She saw the moment when his enjoyment turned to that prickling desire to pull away, to run. She also saw the moment when something else shaded his gaze as well, and she wondered.

          Being a child for nearly seven months, only to finally grow, to come back, and to be…so different. For everything to be different.

          His Master was dead. Had Maul even been given the opportunity to truly process that, to process what it meant?

          But her worry was alleviated when Savage softly began extracting them, when he pulled his brother up to his feet, and when Maul turned and walked away did not do anything to stop him, nor even appear upset. Instead, he took hold of Feral’s hand, and knocked his horns against the other Brothers, ones that Shmi realized Savage likely knew.

          “My brother has been alone for a long time, and much has changed,” he said softly.

          “It is alright, Brother,” Venom said, “he will be alright.”

          Shmi caught Tiq following after, and she turned her attention to Mace, before looking back to Anakin. “We will have more time to be reacquainted soon,” she said, “but we have been called for a reason.”

          “We have more Blood Slaves to help,” Anakin smiled, and Shmi could feel nothing but pride.

_

          Maul walked.

          He did not particularly know where he was going, and he was not sure if he cared. All he knew was he had to move, he had to…

          So much was happening, so much had changed, and he still did not feel right, and he had been… Maul had been behaving erratically for a Nightbrother. They had seen him and known that he did not belong and that was why… Maul thought of all the other Brothers that he had saved. All of the other Brothers that he had taken to safety before he had heard of the Holocron… All of the ones that had been distant, that had not wanted to stand near him…

          Maul had thought they had been afraid of him because of what he had rescued them from. He had thought it had been because they were wary of his touch and his presence… Now Maul was realizing that he had simply…warded them off. He had not known how to welcome their presence and so none of them had come.

          Maul was buzzing. He did not know if it was better or worse to understand that it was because he truly did not know how to exist as a Nightbrother.

          And then…and then…Maul’s Master, he had been…

          But…

          “Maul,” Tiq’s voice called out, sending his thoughts stuttering to a brief halt, even if his legs kept walking, and Tiq quickly caught up to him, walking alongside. “Talk, pressure, movement?”

          And the question was so familiar, was one that they had worked on, a quick and dirty sort of way to figure out what his first need was, and then the possibility of going from there.

          “Movement,” Maul said, almost without thinking of it, led by the feeling of itchiness in his skin, the slight stutter in his walk that he was sure only he could feel. He needed to get used to his own body once again, and the fact that it was once again was somehow even worse. How much more could he go through? What else was he required to give? How many bits of his own hearts would he have to sacrifice before…

          “Come,” Tiq said, and turned on his heel, walking without once touching him, and Maul followed immediately. It was a drill they had perfected over the years, one that Maul could fall into and just…not think about it.

          Maul was tired of thinking.

          Maul stood in the elevator next to Tiq, closing his eyes, bouncing on his toes, feeling the way he wanted to balance, aware of his own weight in a way that he was unused to. Everything was strange.

          “Obstacles or contact?” Tiq asked softly.

          “Obstacles,” Maul said. He did not want to touch anything, not even if it was to hit it.

          He was at the point where he was certain that he would wind up hitting harder than he wanted to.

          “That’ll be good for you, yes?” Tiq hummed, “give you an opportunity to feel how your limbs want to work.”

          “Yes,” Maul agreed softly. “I am sorry.”

          “Do not be,” Tiq said. “Let’s get your energy out, give you a chance to get used to yourself, and then we can go from there. Orientation times five, yes?”

          “Who, what, where, when, why,” Maul hummed. “What is the date?”

          “The fifteenth, fifth month of the year 7954. It is eleven fifty-four in the morning, and we are in the Halls of Knowledge on the elevator heading towards the Master’s Training Room. It seemed appropriate given the circumstances.”

          “I agree,” Maul said softly. “Tiq, who am I?”

          “You are Darth Maul,” Tiq said softly, “you are a twin, you are twenty-six years old, and you are the younger brother of Savage and Feral. You have an unnatural fondness for spice,” Maul smirked, “a tendency to fling yourself in situations that are much too big for you,” that smirk shifted to a smile, “and you are also someone that I care for a very great deal.”

          Maul opened his eyes and met Tiq’s own, taking in the smile.

          “I am very proud of you, Maul,” Tiq said. “You are alright. You have been given a great deal to hold all at once, do not worry if you find yourself unable to hold it all. It is expected that you will leak a little. Let us get all of that energy out of your system and we can work on processing it.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment, taking all of that in, and softly, “Pressure would not be bad…” he breathed.

          Tiq immediately pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing, Maul finding himself leaning into it, and finally going to hug him back.

          The sound of the elevator doors opening caused Maul to take a step back. The hollowness was still there in his chest, but it was not as yawning.

          “Come on,” Tiq said and led him to the training rooms.

_

          Tiq was aware of the way that Maul was buzzing, could feel the burn in the other’s presence, the flickers of flame that shivered. Tiq could not blame him, and when they finally came into the training rooms, Tiq walked off to the side, very aware of the way Maul launched himself forward into a sprint.

          Tiq picked up the player that he had left here, and flicked through the songs, before finally humming and picking the tune he thought would work the best, and pressed play.

          Tiq moved to sit with his legs crossed and watched.

          As the music swelled Maul ran, leaning further and further forward before finally rolling forward and springing up, landing on his hands and letting himself fall backwards in an arch, catching himself on his feet and once again springing. He smoothed his motions as the words in the song crooned, allowing himself to stretch his limbs, to roll and pose, to leap and to adjust.

          It was always spectacular watching Maul move, and he had only improved with age.

          As the song crunched Maul sped up, letting his knees go to his chest, his limbs to akimbo, his feet to nearly fly across the mats, twisting and rolling and spinning, and then when the singer’s voice began he once again slowed his movements, letting himself stretch, to grow accustomed to that extra length.

          Maul slowly grew more comfortable, letting himself leap higher, roll longer, and finally begin to leap off the obstacles that were scattered. He ran up walls, swung himself over edges and plummeted sheer drops, rolling and spinning and twisting as he did so. As the song ended, Tiq picked another, humming quietly as he crunched through and found one whose energy cranked even higher.

          The drums pounded, escalating, as it beat and beat and beat…

          And finally, it all exploded, and Maul launched himself into motion.

          There were no attempts to stretch this time, no attempts to slow it down, the motions violent, a kata in air, all swift kicks, and fists and what would be blood.

          And then finally the song cranked down, and Maul froze, foot high in the air above his own head, a straight-line drawn heel to heel, and he slowly lowered that foot down, brought it level to groin, and held it, still keeping to that line with his thighs. It wound itself up and Maul kicked straight up, fell backwards, and rolled into a series of twists and rolls, ending finally as the song warbled and trailed off with that same line with the other leg.

          And finally, he stood there, bouncing on his toes, and began slowly easing himself into a much gentler series of movements.

          And so Tiq played one last song, smirking softly as the soft cords resonated, and the song truly began, and Maul blinked, before laughing, and then closed his eyes and just let himself move.

          Sweeping low, all movements about length, about reach, about growing used to the limits of his own flexibility… He let his limbs stretch and curl and pull and push, shifting as the pitch warbled, as her voice bent and he slowly allowed himself to follow. Tiq watched as the last song moved him through a cooldown, as he let himself roll forwards along the ground, to touch his toes, to lean his chest to the floor between his split legs and bring them slowly up over his head, and then slowly to stretch out along the floor again.

          Tiq was certain his own bones would have broken.

          The song carried Maul through his final movements, through the drawing of several lines, and finally Maul lay on the ground completely flat, his eyes closed, and the tension that had been in his limbs, had been vibrating just under the skin had finally eased.

          “I would have thought you’d develop a spine with age,” Tiq called softly, “it seems I was wrong.”

          Maul laughed.

          Tiq counted it as a win.

          Maul slowly stood up then, shaking his limbs out once and then finally approaching Tiq, and Tiq could see how much smoother he was, how his gait had gentled, and he seemed to fit himself more, before finally sitting down crossed legged before him.

          “Hello,” Tiq said with a smile.

          “Hello,” Maul said, breathing deep and slow. “You said you had something for me?”

          “I do,” Tiq said. “And for as much as I wish to give it to you now, I think we need to settle everything else first. It’s…a gift, but it can also be a double-edged one.”

          “And double-edged sabers are handled with much care.”

          “Exactly,” Tiq grinned. “So first…how are you?”

          “I…” Maul laughed, rough, and understandably wet, “Tiq I do not understand, so much has happened, I just…” he closed his eyes. “I feel like everything is moving so fast, and I am… I have brothers? I have brothers and they love me, and I remember…so much and not enough, and I have…all of this is inside of me, and I do not know where it goes, I do not know where it fits with who I am and what I became, and… There is a part of me that feels like I can allow…I can allow…myself to breathe…the space to relax…and the other part of me that knows better. My Master is dead, and my brother killed him to spare me… My Master was the Chancellor, and he was…kind…to me…” Maul wiped his face.

          “Tiq, why was he so kind to me? Was he just…was he trying…and when he said…was he just trying to fool me? To destroy me?” Maul held his hands out and Tiq took them, holding them within his own softly. “Tiq I do not understand,” he breathed. “I do not want… I want…” Maul’s expression crumbled, and he pulled his hands back, fisting them in his lap, “why would I grieve? Why would I grieve when I know…I know that he must have… Tiq…do you think that he hated me?”

          Tiq smiled, and it was rough, and it was hard. “And so, we once again are at the question at the center, and this time I do have an answer. And it is one I think you know, which is why you keep questioning it. It’s the reason you find yourself grieving even when you hate. And I know you hate him. I know you do. I know that you are not grieving the man. You are grieving the ideal. You are grieving what you wished it could have been. And this, Maul, is the most natural thing in the Galaxy.”

          “I hate it,” Maul hissed.

          “I know,” Tiq said, “and that is okay. That is okay. It is perfectly understandable.” Tiq took a breath and sighed. “Maul, if I had…if I had any other choice I do not know if I would talk to you about this so soon. But things are out of my hands…  Count Dooku…was your Master’s latest weapon, and I was forced to blackmail him.”

          “You-Tiq…wait, what?”

          Tiq smiled, “you see, Dooku was under the mistaken impression…that he was worth something to your Master. That he was worth something to Darth Sidious…but he was not. He was a weapon. Something to be used and discarded. But…in order to get this through to him I was forced to tell him about you…and about the fact that while your Master believed him to be expendable, to be…exploitable… Maul,” Tiq breathed softly, “your Master did love you, as much as I think he could love anyone.”

          Maul was silent for a moment, his eyes so wide, and so… “Oh,” he breathed.

          “But Maul,” Tiq said, and reached out, Maul taking his hands, unthinking, unhesitatingly, holding so tight… Tiq could feel the tremor, could see… “Maul listen, this is one of the most important things about love that you have to understand – Love is not enough, and in some cases, in many ways…love can actually be used to hurt, to cut. And your Master cut you deep with it. His affection was possession, and his love was in the form of control and, too, in a way, on an ideal. That you could not meet this ideal is not anything to do with you. It is entirely to do with him. You did not deserve to be under that. You did not deserve to be controlled and twisted like that. In a way, it does not matter that he loved you. His actions show precisely what he was, and what he was…was cruel, and evil, and vile, and I am happy that fucker is dead.”

          Maul’s face broke into a grin, a laugh tickling at the corners of his mouth, and Tiq leaned forward, Maul’s horns pressing to his forehead unthinkingly, gentle, gentle…

          “You never deserved to be under the care of a man who told you that all you were was a body. You never deserved to be brought up by someone who hurt you, and good fucking riddance. Good fucking riddance I hope it hurt, I hope he was awake and aware all the way down, and I hope he knew just how powerless he was. I hope that he knew just how much we all fucking hated him. Because yes, Maul, I do not think there was a Jedi in that Senate that did not hate him. And we hated him for you. And I want you to understand something, yes? We were glad to hate him.”

          “I think I was right,” Maul said softly, “you probably would be a good Sith.”

          Tiq laughed and pulled back, pressing a kiss to his forehead, a gesture that made Maul grin, “Do you really think so? Would I be a good Sith?”

          Maul paused, the grin fading as he stared at him, thinking, and then he finally sighed. “Oh, very well, so I may be indulging in some wishful thinking.”

          Tiq laughed, “There is nothing wrong with that at all,” he assured softly. “I think I’m even flattered.”

          “You should be,” Maul sniffed, “I do not think that many Jedi would make good Sith, or even spend time thinking about it.”

          “Truly?” Tiq asked, grinning. “No one at all? Not even someone like…oh, you teased him enough about it, but Obi-Wan?”

          Maul pulled a face that was so utterly disgusted, so completely unimpressed that Tiq was hard-pressed to not burst out laughing. “Obi-Wan Kenobi would be the most obnoxious Sith in all of history.”

          Tiq failed at holding his laughter in.

          “He would…he would be so aggressively annoying,” Maul said, his mouth squiggling, his eyes narrowing, “he would…by the Force, Tiq, why would you wish that upon me?”

          Tiq laughed harder. “OH,” Tiq wiped his eyes, “that was about as funny a reaction as I had hoped it would be.”

          “Rude,” Maul huffed. “I am going to have nightmares.”

          Tiq lost it. “Oh, Force, regrouping, Maul, please, how do you feel?”

          “Better,” Maul said, and the complete lack of hesitation was so good to hear. “I…” Maul paused. “I…understand that his love was control. That it was bad for me, and it would almost have been the same as if he hated me. But it is…to know that he did love me… Why?”

          “That I do not know,” Tiq said, “but I do know that whatever the reason it would have never been good enough, and so in this instance the why is beyond consideration. Why? Because he could. Because he wanted control more than he wanted your well-being. Because he was perpetually angry and wanted to take it out on someone that relied on him, none of these reasons are good and none of them are ones that you should hold in your hearts as though they are ones you deserve. His meanings and his reasonings are utterly irrelevant outside of this one simple fact, are you ready?”

          “What is it?”

          “He is dead – and your Master will never be able to hurt you again.”

          Maul took that in for a moment, silent, silent, and Tiq was prepared for the moment when he bowed forward slow, and softly, “Tiq…do you have…do we have the footage. Please, please can I…”

          “Yes,” Tiq said, and pulled the player over, fishing through datachips to finally press one into the machine. “We were able to piece together a record of the fight and how it happened. The holocam in the Senate was damaged, but it was still running. We do have the footage. You can see him die.”

          Maul swallowed, shifting to properly see it, but it was not the death that opened it up, instead, Tiq showed him the interrogation.

          Maul could not stop laughing.

          The opening salvo, the first line of a simple ‘Shut up, bitch’ had been enough to send Maul into a near fit of it, doubling over and his hands over his mouth like he was trying to hold it in for dear life, but it escaped anyway.

          As Tiq chipped away at him, insulted his being and his job and his ability to listen… Maul remained scrunched, almost hiding it, but it was audible, and it was visible, “Very good!” the Tiq of the holocam called out, giving a loud and very exaggerated clap, “that is ten points to the Chancellor of the Republic, you are very good at this, aren’t you?”

          “Yes…I am…”

          And Maul finally started howling.

          Tiq paused the footage, let Maul get over his doubled-up pose, to straighten, to rub at his face and regain his composure. “Tiq,” Maul managed his voice choked, tears in his eyes, “Tiq, you cannot do this to me, this is too much.”

          “Your Master is a bitch! It’s not my fault at all.”

          Maul giggled, a sharp and breathless sound, but so full of joy, and Tiq beamed.

          Tiq let Maul take in the fact that it was an accusation of molestation that had finally gotten him to cave and paused it briefly. “It is, Maul, because I realized he did love you, and he would have had some lines in his behavior towards you. I made a guess as to what it was, and I got lucky. But I need you to know…”

          “That his love was poison,” Maul said briefly, “his love was a chain. And I am free from both.”

          “There is no more poison in your veins, and no chains around your neck,” Tiq agreed softly, “you are free. Now I’m going to skip…”

          “Do…do you have the part where you blackmailed Dooku, please? I want…I want to see that, and to see… I need to see…”

          “I will show you his death,” Tiq promised. “You will see him die, and you will know it to be true.”

          Maul huffed quietly, “am I that obvious?”

          “It’s understandable,” Tiq said softly. “We have claimed Sidious dead before, and it took a Holocron that reverted you to a child for us to be made aware of our mistake. I deeply regret that…”

          “It is alright,” Maul said. “I did not…I never once…”

          “That isn’t entirely true,” Tiq said, “do you remember banning Anakin from speaking to him on his own?”

          Maul blinked. “Do you think…that he would…”

          “I think he would have tried,” Tiq said. “Considered among so many Jedi to be the Chosen One to bring Balance to the Force? What would be a more thrilling conquest than turning that against us?”

          Maul took that in quietly, and softly, quietly, “he would have destroyed him.”

          “He would have,” Tiq agreed, “which is why it’s so crucial, and honestly quite so funny that you simply banned him from seeing him… It is a testament to Anakin’s love of you that he listened. It is very hard work getting a teenager to listen. You did it very easily.”

          “I made him promise on his mother,” Maul said.

          “Ah,” Tiq grinned, “that would definitely do it.” Tiq paused. “Still loves you a great deal, though.”

          Maul laughed. “He is like a younger brother…at least what I imagine it would be like… Tiq…” Maul stared at him for a moment, and there was something so amazed and something so soft in his eyes, “Tiq, I am a twin, I have brothers.”

          “You do,” Tiq smiled, “and I am so glad that you were able to meet them. I am so glad that you found each other.”

          Maul said nothing for a moment, almost basking in it, before he finally sighed, “you were going to show me how you eviscerated Dooku?”

          “Eviscerated is a little strong,” Tiq said, laughing.

          “Incorrect,” Maul said, grinning. “Now let me see!”

          Tiq laughed and worked on scrubbing through the fight, delicately avoiding the moment when he got electrocuted, and then finally let it play as Tiq pressed a few buttons on the chair.

          As Maul realized that Tiq had not known that he was about to call Dooku, as he realized that Dooku had habitually called him ‘My Master,’ Maul doubled over, and nearly shrieked with laughter.

          “HIS FACE!” Maul managed, tears sliding down his face as he absolutely lost his shit, “Tiq!!! You didn’t tell me…he outed himself???”

          Tiq laughed, “I was waiting for this moment. It was worth every second.”

          Maul finally settled slowly, watching the rest of the encounter, and as he took in Bail’s expression, he wiped his eyes. “I want to call him; can I call him?”

          “What are you going to do?”

          “Mock him relentlessly,” Maul answered, purring.

          “Maybe when we get him back to the Jedi Temple. He needs to be contained in a proper cell.”

          “Are you going to rehabilitate him like you did with me?” Maul asked, and there was something almost quietly tolerant.

          Tiq was quiet for a moment. “I do not know what we are going to do with him. With you…you were different in a way. The way you were trained…how you were raised…you knew no other way. It was rehabilitation but it was also almost reeducation. Dooku…” Tiq was quiet for a moment. “Dooku should know better. He was about to…I have seen what your Master was planning, Maul. I have…” Tiq’s face tightened. “Dooku was not just complicit with slave labor, he was working on undermining…” Tiq shook his head. “There is a great deal that he has been doing that is absolutely vile, a great many people have died because of his actions, and…” Tiq paused. “It is interesting, I believe, how a person can trick themselves so thoroughly into believing that they are doing the right thing.”

          “I do understand that,” Maul said with a nod and a shrug.

          Tiq smiled at him and opened his arms, Maul allowing himself to sink into the hug. “Thank you for asking if we do plan on rehabilitating,” he said. “Unlike you, Dooku exists and is a Citizen of the Republic, and he is being tried like one. If I have the opportunity I would, but admittedly I don’t know if he would listen to me.”

          “Why is that?” Maul asked.

          “I’m non-human,” Tiq answered with a shrug.

          “Fucker.”

          Tiq laughed. “Indeed,” he agreed.

          “I hope it stung like hell when he realized that I was the one our Master cared for.”

          “I rather do as well,” Tiq agreed. “But that’s vindictive and I will let that go.”

          “I’ll hold onto it for you.”

          “Thank you,” Tiq laughed. “But it is not necessary.”

          “I will do it anyway,” Maul said. “Because I want to hold it over him.”

          “Sith.”

          “Jedi,” Maul returned, and finally laughed. “I have missed you.”

          “I have missed you as well,” Tiq said. “I am so proud of you. I am so proud of you…you have done so much… It is so good to see that you are alive, and you are well.” Maul shifted to hug him tight, and Tiq laughed quietly, “You’re not quite as easy to hold anymore.”

          “I don’t know if I like it,” Maul said, pulling back. “You cannot tell anyone…”

          “Not a soul,” Tiq agreed.

          “I liked my height,” Maul said. “The fact that most people could pick me up…”

          “It’s a good way to alleviate some of the touch starvation,” Tiq nodded.

          “It is that,” Maul agreed, waving a hand almost grandly, “but more importantly it leads to the idea that I am easier to kill, and therefore makes them easier to stab. They pick me up, I merely…” he mimed stabbing at someone under the ribs, and Tiq wheezed, doubling over, and laughing aloud.

          “Maul!”

          “What?” Maul shrugged, “it is true! If I allow you to hold me in such a manner then…” he shrugged. “I care about you a great deal. Touch starvation or…” Maul trailed off.

          Tiq was quiet for a moment. “You worked with Mandalorians and with Hondo’s pirates, yes? As well as Shmi Skywalker?”

          “Yes,” Maul said. “I was…I was not completely alone.”

          “Just mostly,” Tiq said quietly. “Well. That likely may change.”

          “What did you find out, Tiq? What was my Master planning?”

          “First…” Tiq sighed, “First I am going to show you his death, and then I am going to give you what I found.”

          Tiq opened the footage and allowed Maul to take it in, watching the way Obi-Wan provided such a good distraction from the actual threat of Savage. Maul took the holoprojector from Tiq, replaying the footage, watching as his Master was impaled again…and again…and again…

          And finally put it down and shoved it away from him.

          “Tiq…” he breathed, “my Master is dead…”

          “Yes,” Tiq agreed quietly, “he is dead.”

          Maul paused for a moment, so still… And then, quietly, Maul began to laugh.

          It was a desperate broken little sound, hitched and broken, slowly shifting to something louder, fuller, and finally outright hysterical. It was a shattered, utterly desperate sort of laugh, Tiq waiting, watching, and when that hitched and pained sounding laugh became the start of hitched and pained sobs, Tiq was ready, and opened his arms. Maul folded himself close and wept, and there was such anger in the sound, such… “I hate him, Tiq,” Maul breathed.

          “I know,” Tiq said softly. “I know, it’s alright. You can mourn. It is alright to mourn. It is not fair, and it is not right. You are allowed to mourn.” Tiq held him until he finally ran out of tears and pushed himself back, wiping at his eyes… Tiq caught hold of his hands, squeezing. “Gentle,” Tiq said softly, “there is no reason to make yourself hurt. You are allowed to be kind to yourself, even for something like this. Grief is complicated.”

          “Grief is awful, and I hate it,” Maul grumbled.

          “Understandable,” Tiq said. “But still…be kind.”

          “What did you have for me, Tiq,” Maul said softly.

          Tiq paused for a moment and finally sighed. “Reach for my mind, Maul, feel.”

          Maul narrowed his eyes, and Tiq felt the soft tickling heat of Maul’s Force-presence reaching out for him. Tiq reached out slowly and offered the memories that he had stored. Maul’s presence flickered near them, before it flared in realization and wonder, and Tiq felt the way he brushed against them, and softly, softly… “Tiq…what is that?”

          “Those are your memories,” Tiq answered softly. “Your Master did not just cut them out he kept them. These…I have not looked at them, Maul, but I can feel them, and they are sound.  Your Master kept them, and I think…eventually he was going to give them back. But now…I am.”

          Maul blinked, “can…can you do that?” he breathed, “is it possible, can you…is my mind not too…?”

          “It is not too broken,” Tiq said, “nor is it too scarred over. The brain has a natural elasticity, and in this instance it wants to be whole. I believe…that should we work together, they should be accepted.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment, and softly, quietly, “please.”

          Tiq tilted his forehead towards Maul, feeling the horns press up against him, closed his eyes, and took a breath, feeling Maul do the same…and slowly.

          Steadily…

          Breathed out…

          And plunged into a mind that he knew.

          Maul pulled back with a gasp, standing, his body reeling, staggering away from Tiq and finally falling to his knees.

          “Maul, can I touch you?” Tiq asked, his voice soft, and Maul braced his hands against the ground, breathing, breathing, feeling like he wanted to throw up. There was so much…as so much was flowed into him, as his memories…

          As that dark pillar was given a face.

          As he stared up at Palpatine.

          And thought of him as father.

          Maul vomited into a wastebasket that hadn’t been there, shaking, his body heaving as he emptied everything in his stomach.

          It had been Palpatine, it was him, all of it was him, and then the wastebasket was moving and Tiq was closer, gently hushing, still not touching, still not…

          “Please,” Maul managed softly, and Tiq pulled him close, settled his head on his lap, let him sprawl out, ran a hand up and down up and down his arm…

          “It’s alright,” Tiq breathed, “it is alright.”

          “I loved him once,” Maul breathed. “I loved him. He raised me. I knew him from…my earliest memories…if only as a presence that… Tiq… Please…I don’t want…I don’t want to think of this anymore. I don’t want…”

          “Hush,” Tiq said softly, “you know that is not true.”

          “There is so much…” Maul managed, his voice trembling, “Tiq…”

          “A lifetime, right up until seventeen,” Tiq said. “It is alright. Let yourself settle, I’m right here, grab on.”

          And Maul reached, clinging tight to Tiq’s Force-presence, allowing himself to sink into the Jedi’s peaceful aura, letting it calm him, slowly allowing his mind to trail down paths and links that it had not been able to make in so…long…

          Tiq remained stable and cool, and Maul slowly let himself bask in it, letting his mind settle, flow the anxiety, the hurt, the… There was so much hurt…so much hurt… And it framed…all of those conversations, those moments…

          “Tiq…” Maul breathed, “he wanted me back…”

          “I do think so,” Tiq said, and the hand on his arm was protective, and the presence he basked in was warm, and so welcoming, “but he did not get you. And he will not. You are not his. You are not ours. You are yours. Your chains are broken, Sith. You are free.”

          Maul took that in, closing his eyes and breathing it close.

          Maul was free.

          He was free.

          “Thank you,” he breathed.

          “Of course,” Tiq said. “How are you feeling, Maul? Do you want a spar?”

          “I could use a distraction,” Maul said, and slowly began to push himself up.

          “Excellent,” Tiq said, “because I think that someone…”

          The door to the training room burst open, Obi-Wan marching forward holding…

          Maul was on his feet and as the pike that had been his weapon and his companion for so long flew through the air he reached out…and caught it.

          And let the red blade THRUM into existence, heat and death and warmth in his hand.

          “Aw shit,” Maul cussed, placing it next to him and taking in where the blade length rested on him. “It’s too short.”

          “That is a bit of a challenge,” Obi-Wan hummed, “but I’m certain it’s nothing you can’t overcome?”

          “Fifteen words to tell me to simply spar anyway, Kenobi,” Maul sniffed, eyeing him. “And yet you call me verbose~”

          Obi-Wan gave a regal shrug before pulling his saber from his belt, twirling it into his favored Soresu, and Maul could see the initial twirl had allowed him to readjust the power on it. It would scald, but not kill.

          Maul hummed, “A moment.”

          Obi-Wan gestured for it, remaining in his ready stance.

          Maul smiled.

          And then twirled the pike, his eyes closed, feeling the weapon, feeling the way it wanted to rest on him, learning where it pressed against his limbs, feeling the brief flashes of heat as it grew too close and adjusting it with the slightest of movements. Familiarity bloomed, and when he finally knew where it would fall, when he knew that he would not hurt himself as well as his enemy, he fell into his own opening stance, pointed at Kenobi, checking the balance to make sure, and casually readjusted the power in his own.

          It was truly only sporting.

          “Very flashy,” Obi-Wan hummed. “But have you ever fought anyone with an actual saber?”

          Maul grinned, baring all of his teeth, and let the low hum of his Force presence darken and darken, and BURN. “No,” he answered, almost purring, “and so I thank you for the opportunity, Kenobi~”

          Maul was aware of the others that were coming in, could see the way Tiq had gone to join Plo at the far end of the room, could see the Nightbrothers as they sat on either side of his brothers, and could see the utter curiosity burning in Ahsoka and Anakin.

          “You know I live to serve,” Obi-Wan said, flicking his saber, and finally, Maul flicked his saber into a guard, and launched himself forward – the pike leading.

          Obi-Wan pulled back, knocking the pike blade up into the air with his saber, only for Maul to catch it and spin it back, sending the butt of the weapon towards his chin. Obi-Wan leaned back, flicked his saber across and sent it to the side, and Maul pulled back, spinning it around with a flourish and as Obi-Wan went to block he twisted the mechanism that kept it solid and instead granted it added flexibility, the interlocking parts gaining just enough gap to grant just enough wiggle without threatening structural collapse, and best yet would allow it to still weather any need to block.

          It was one of the Armourer’s proudest achievements.

          “Oh, that’s not good…” Obi-Wan managed when Maul lowered it to eye-level, a grin on his face.

          “It might be smart to run~?”

          “Might,” Obi-Wan agreed, and then launched himself forward.

          Maul laughed aloud as he brought the butt of the weapon once again into play, forcing Obi-Wan back, and following up with a low sweep that threatened his ankles, the Jedi leaping up and still back. And then Maul twisted the weapon around so the pike was threatening and humming, allowed Obi-Wan the moment to realize it was pointing directly between his eyes, and then began a series of short sharp stabs towards him, always pressing forward, always at different angles, that added flexibility giving the pike an almost unpredictable amount of devastation.

          It was hard to tell where it was aiming, and as Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and began working on blocking and parrying, Maul grinned wider and wider.

          Maul twisted the mechanism to solidify it, spinning around with the butt of the weapon and managing a direct hit to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, causing him to stumble back, and as Maul swung the pike back around Obi-Wan launched himself forward. Maul grinned and rolled backwards, gaining distance. Obi-Wan spun his saber around, working on attacking while Maul’s focus was on retreating, and Maul finally launched himself up in the air, the lightsaber pike deactivating as he landed to balance upon it, a grin splitting his face.

          Obi-Wan blinked up at him.

          Maul took a breath, and with an internal laugh, channeled the Force in a scream of power that took the form of a single solitary word –

          “KENNOOOOOBIIIIII!!!!!!”

          “Oh, that’s not good,” Obi-Wan managed and he turned on his heel and ran.

          Maul twisted the mechanism, launched himself forward with his weapon rattling a terrible facsimile of a death rattle, and Obi-Wan managed a single hard block, but the pike went back around, hit the Jedi’s hand, and sent the lightsaber flying, that pike swinging back once again to point directly at the Jedi’s neck, that mechanism twisted yet again to stabilize it. There was no true point in burning him.

          “Well,” Obi-Wan managed. “That was…frightening.”

          Maul tilted his head. “Yield?”

          “Now,” Obi-Wan paused. “I could…” Maul leapt up and spun over the saber that had been aiming at his back, catching hold of the hilt with a boldness he never would have used if he had not known that it was still set low and therefore would not cut off his hand should he miss. As it was, it was a perfect catch, and Maul aimed the blue sword at its owner’s throat. “Oh, well, that was rather impressive. Yield, yes, I think that sounds like a good idea.”

          “Thank you.” He deactivated the saber and tossed it towards its owner, Obi-Wan catching it and hilting it. Maul deactivated his own pike, grinning. When Obi-Wan went in for a hug Maul initially blinked, feeling it close around him with a momentary start, before allowing himself to hug back.

          “Don’t ever yell my name like that again.”

          Maul laughed aloud and tightened his grip, hitting his back hard once. “I’ll consider it.”

          Obi-Wan pulled back and rolled his eyes at him, laughing himself. But it was good. Maul had needed something like this.

          “Well done,” a voice said that Maul had not been expecting, and he turned to find the one who had made the weapon standing there, as well as a medley of Death Watch that also included Soln. The Armourer approached, and Maul hesitated before approaching as well and holding out the weapon. She took it from him, held it in her hands, and then looked to him, her helmet cocked slightly as she took him in. “You did not grow in the way that I expected.”

          “I don’t know that it was expected by anyone,” Obi-Wan said, taking a step forward. “Hello, are you the one that made that weapon?”

          “I am,” she returned, “I am the Armourer. You fight well…for a Jedi.”

          “I will of course take that as the highest compliment,” Obi-Wan smiled. The Armourer tilted her head to him in a gesture of amusement, and Maul knew that he had managed to get in her good graces.

          “I will reforge your armor and the saber,” she said to Maul. “You will have need of them soon.”

          “Thank you,” Maul said, putting his fist over his chest and offering her a low bow. She returned it with a dip of her head and walked away, Soln approaching. “What brings you here?”

          “We were told you have a problem with some Mandalorians,” he grinned. “We are here to help reclaim them.”

          “Ah,” Maul said. “Fill me in.”

_

          Maul stood on the deck of a ship, staring out over the waters of Kamino.

          Maul had listened while Soln had spoken, listened as the Jedi filled further gaps. But as they spoke, Maul had remembered.

          Darth Sidious had never told him the entirety of the plan, but there were echoes, things that Maul remembered. A plot to destroy the Jedi. A plot to use the Senate they loved so much against them. It had made Maul want to laugh.

          There was a brilliance within it that was frightening, not the least because a part of Maul could admit that he admired it. It was a brilliant plan.

          His Master had always been brilliant.

          But now Maul stood overlooking what was meant to be his Master’s crowning achievement, and the knowledge that it would never be used against the Jedi… It would never be used against his family, or the Galaxy that they loved.

          Maul wondered if they realized how much they loved it. He wondered if this would have been what made them realize it just as it was stripped from them.

          The Separatists had been weeded out, cut from Dooku they had fizzled, and ultimately there was nothing to unite them. There was to be no war…

          And so, an army that had been created needed to be dissolved.

          And millions of men needed to be helped to find purpose beyond a war that would never happen.

          The Jedi’s entire Mind Healer force had been pulled from all corners, after they had managed to find replacements, of course, and were currently being debriefed by Tiq. Maul himself had helped in some of the debriefing.

          Yoda was currently on Kamino and had been making observations, talking to the Clones that were there. The knowledge that they were dealing with men that in some ways were a bit like Maul had been.

          Men fashioned into Weapons.

          Beings that had no concept of themselves as anything but tools of destruction.

          Maul was not sure if he was ready to see them. What Maul had not expected was for the way the Brothers understood. And not just Feral and Savage, but also Venom, Spite, Grudge, and Wrath. Yet…in a way he supposed he should have.

          What were they for?

          What were they for…

          But in the end they stood with him, and their presence was a balm in a way Maul did not know how to reach for. They often included him regardless, and he had learned slowly of the ways that a Brother asked for another’s presence.

          Tiq had also been with them, a constant presence, talking, gentle, as well as a consistent reminder that they did not have to see them yet. Maul could take his time. They all could. They would do what needed to be done.

          Tiq had laughed just about as hard as Maul when the Nightbrothers had looked at him.

          “Always remember you can take a step back,” Tiq had said, and they had promised to remember.

          He knew they intended to keep that promise.

          But for now, Maul was going to see what could be done.

          They came in for a landing, and Maul continued watching.

          As the rest disembarked Maul waited.

          He was unsurprised when the Armourer finally found him, and he turned to her.

          “It is finished,” she said. “The second iteration of my greatest creation. You will wield it well.”

          “I will,” Maul agreed, and followed her to where his armor waited.

          He took the pike in hand and finally left himself, clad in the armor of the Mandalorians that had been his own. Influenced by the aesthetics of the Sith. Influenced by his own.

          Maul kept his distance, his presence small, unnoticeable as he walked amongst them, and watched. His Brothers had approached, had walked to them with an intimate knowledge that Maul could not quite match. His own childhood had been spent in loneliness, in solitude, his own training wrapped around the fact that there was only himself… And the reflection he saw in glass. And the more that he saw the more he felt as though he was staring at an imitation, at a broken and shattered mirror that showed him so much of what had been…and ultimately what he no longer was.

          Maul stood in a transparisteel tunnel and stared out at a sea of men that moved in unison, trained in unison, that awkwardly attempted to talk to the Jedi that had spread amongst them, that had no idea how to integrate with them, even as he could see the way they longed to…

          The Mandalorians had spread, the splinter of Death Watch that Maul had stumbled upon when destroying the mines of Zygerria…and those were the ones that were ultimately the most gravitated to. Outside of course, of the Brothers…the Brothers that were gaining a following that was growing.

          Soln had been called for good reason and Maul wondered quietly whether or not this would be something they latched onto. Perhaps Death Watch would grow. Maybe they would finally be enough to destroy the group led by Pre Vizsla.

          Maul would not mind. From what he recalled Jango was considered a member of the True Mandalorians, but as Maul looked out at the men that clearly had no understanding of existence outside of battle…outside of fight…outside of being a weapon… He could not believe that Jango had remained a part of that faction.

          And the more he looked…the angrier Maul grew.

          There were children.

          More in pods waiting to be decanted.

          All of them had been meant for war.

          And a single man had agreed to it. A single man had seen fit to take these children, take these beings, and enslave them to war, and act as though they did not matter.

           Weapons.

          Maul was looking out at an army of weapons.

          It was something he recognized implicitly.

          Jango had been gone, a job he had been on taking him away, and it was during that time that they had begun their work, but Maul had little doubt that he would not be gone for long.

          Maul had avoided all Kaminoans, watching from above the way they interacted with the ones that had been under their care and known that he would be unable to keep the hate down.

          It was all too raw.

          Maul did not know what he would do.

          But Maul would find out.

          For now, he would watch, and as he watched Maul found himself so thankful for Tiq and his Group. Maul was so thankful for the Mandalorians he had found and their utter insistence that he come with them.

          It was strange to think that this had been the splinter faction that Meltch Krakko had belonged to.

          It was strange to think that he may have grown up amongst them if…

          But his Master had still been alive.

          It was likely that all Maul would have done would be invite death.

          Yet now…Maul’s Master was dead.

          Now…all of their chains were broken.

          It was simply a matter of getting them to see that.

          Maul took a breath and finally decided to move amongst them.

          His distance was no longer helping. Maul allowed his iron control of his presence slip, and began walking down to meet the rest of the men.

_

          Tiq was surrounded by an ocean of numbers.

          He was thankful for much, but the fact that numbers had always been easy for him to remember was in the top tier. It would be an awful thing to forget or to butcher when their batch numbers was literally all that these men had to their person. At least…until they either decided they wanted a name or decided that their number would fit for a name.

          Either one was acceptable, at this point it was closer to discovering another race than it was being amidst Clones of one man. If their naming practices involved a great deal of numbers then it deserved to be respected. And then Tiq’s attention was pulled to the Brothers, and he found himself smiling.

          “So…” one of the men was saying, CC-3636, if Tiq wasn’t mistaken, it was in the Aura – this one’s crackled, “you…you’re Venom, and you’re Feral, you’re Spite, and Wrath, and Grudge, and…you’re Savage?”

          “Yes,” Savage answered, grinning, “and he is Maul,” Savage nodded towards…

          Oh.

          Well.

          Tiq rather thought he understood how that could be terrifying.

          Maul had always been soundless, but to manage that with a suit of armor was a particularly intense sort of task. That black armor with its crown of horns that were so much larger than Maul’s own, the face that slowly came into view as he stopped before them and tilted his head slightly to look at them… And also offered a horn-lock, one that was immediately taken up by Feral, who hooked tight and grinned.

          “It’s not quite the same, they’re a good deal less…living, but I have to say I do like them,” Feral said, taking a step back and reaching up to touch the tips. “How many have you killed like this?”

          “Enough,” Maul answered and the grin in his voice was sharp.

          The Brothers laughed, a warm thing, amused, and there was a certain delight in the sound.

          Tiq felt the desire to roll his eyes, but there was no denying the way the men around them were reacting. There was a kinship there that they seemed to not have expected.

          And how could they have…but now that it was there, Tiq could see the beginnings of interest.

          “You can name yourselves things like that?” CC-1993 asked.

          “Why would you not be able to?” Venom asked. “Though admittedly most of us were named by our older Brothers.”

          “Oh, does that…does that mean you need to be blood to name another?”

          “Oh, apologies,” Venom said. “While it is true that we four are blood, and they are blood,” he indicated Maul and Savage and Feral, “Brothers is nonetheless what we call ourselves. We are Nightbrothers, even without Blood, we are connected in battle and in soul.”

          There was a slow building interest, and Tiq found himself smiling.

          This was an unlooked for, but certainly helpful line of familiarity.

          This was something that could be used to help.

          They had already started to shift from the way they stood together, the slow relaxing of shoulders, the movement to start to copy postures. They were also all very interested in the Brother’s tattoos. As they explained, the Brothers smiling as they indicated them and what they meant… The Mandalorians had also approached, and together they were pulling a crowd.

          There were younger ones approaching then, recently decanted, and the Brothers welcomed them with an ease that seemed to win the men over more…

          The sound of a ship passing by overhead drew Tiq’s attention, and he was aware then too of Maul.

          Maul who focused on the man that was coming in through the door dressed in full Mandalorian armor of his own, and as he approached, drew his pike, and then Maul’s voice cracked out, “Demagolka! Aruetyc hut’uun! Naast be ade! Aruetii ti aliit bal manda… Gar buir duraa.”

          Tiq felt his eyes widen. Well.

          That was one way to start a fight.

          Jango launched himself forward, a roar of anger and pain, and Maul met him. It was an almost wretchedly one sided fight.

          Jango was skilled, there was no doubt, and similarly no doubt that Mandalorians were warriors born… But so, too, were Nightbrothers.

          And Maul was not playing fair.

          Jango used whatever weapon he could think of, but if they ever threatened the crowd that was still watching a Jedi was able to send it back…but more importantly, Maul was willing always to use the Force, to rip Jango from his feet and throw him across the room, to send the flames that Jango sent at him back at his own face with a single palm raised up. And when Maul had finally tackled Jango to the ground, had finally knocked his helmet away and brought a single blade to his throat, that was when Maul finally tore off his own helmet and began to speak.

          “You call yourself a True Mandalorian, Jango?” Maul purred. “You call yourself someone your father would be proud of? Knowing that you call yourself a Mandalorian while you disobey the first basic tenant, while you allow yourself to become demagolka and destroy your manda and theirs? Why?”

          “They aren’t people,” Jango hissed. “They’re nothing…”

          The sound of a harsh and rasped gasp brought Tiq’s attention to a little boy, one that had… Oh.

          Tiq had heard of…

          “Filth,” Maul hissed. “Your vengeance has blinded you to everything…even the needs of the one you called son. Tell me, Jango? How can you possibly know that you are worthy of existence, worthy of love…when every single being bearing your face, bearing your soul is also worthy of extermination? How can you elevate one to a son, when you do not even see them as human?”

          And Jango was staring at his boy. Jango was staring at the child who had frozen, who stared into his eyes, “Boba…” Jango breathed, and that was when Boba turned and ran.

          Tiq kept track of the boy with the promise that he would check on him later. He had a feeling the boy needed time…

          Jango fought against Maul then, struggled to get out of his grip, but Maul was Zabrak. Maul had twice the muscle density and wound up pinning Jango on his front, that knife at his ear. “Stop,” Maul commanded softly. “Just stop. You have lost. You are just a man, Jango. You are just a man…”

          And Tiq could see the way the other men had straightened, could see… And he found a slow smile pulling at his mouth. And he understood what Maul had decided needed to be done.

          Maul had shown them that their tormentor was mortal. Maul had shown them that he could be beaten.

          And softly, quietly, “Jango…why would you attempt to get revenge on the people that only reacted to your orders? Why would you get revenge against them when you shot first and you know that by right their actions were just?”

          Jango said nothing.

          “Would you like to help us kill Pre Vizsla?”

          Jango blinked. “What?”

          “You killed Tor Vizsla, that much is true, but you have not killed all that remains of him. There have been others that have followed in his footsteps, have taken Death Watch in his image. Would you like to destroy them?” Maul asked. “Would you like to regain your honor? Would you like to avenge your father?”

          Jango paused, and then slowly looked up at him. “But Death Watch…?”

          Soln laughed quietly and stepped forward, crouching down alongside him. “We are Death Watch. Or rather…Death Watch as it should have been. Before Tor twisted us. Pre Vizsla has further corrupted what we stood for. Destroyed the honor that it once possessed, stripped the non-humans from its ranks, and has the gall to call himself Mandalorian by the rule of a sword he did not win. His father may have won it. It may run in his family…but it was not won by him.”

          “We are going to kill him and destroy the rest,” Maul said pleasantly, “and we are offering you the opportunity to make up for what you have done. There will be no war, Jango. The Jedi will not fall. But you can still have your revenge. A more…ultimate revenge.”

          Jango paused, and then tapped the floor twice. Maul let him up.

          “Who are you?” Jango asked softly, looking to him.

          “I am Maul,” he answered. “If you continue to test me you may find out why.” Maul grinned with all of his teeth, and Tiq heard the soft ripple of laughter that spread, the shock slowly dissipating.

          And then Maul stalked away, leaving Jango with Soln, who put his arm on Jango’s shoulder and also led him away.

          Tiq left to find Boba…and eventually found him with Maul.

          Tiq listened for a moment, took in the soft words, and gave the slightest of nods.

          For now…for now Boba would be alright. Upon turning, Tiq found a blond-haired man standing, and as he saluted Tiq smiled, “he’s just ahead. Maul is with him.”

          “Thank you,” he said. “I…thank you.”

          “There is no need,” Tiq said. “We are happy to bring you to freedom. It will be a hard road, but it is one you can learn to walk.”

          The man nodded stiffly, and looked beyond him, “can I…can I talk to them?”

          “Of course,” Tiq said softly, “I dare say Maul would even welcome your presence, and whatever help you can give…”

          “He’s still…” the man paused, and then softly, “he’s still my brother.”

          “He is,” Tiq agreed, “go.”

          “Thank you.”

          He slipped away and Tiq wished briefly that he had remembered to ask for what the man’s number was. Tiq hoped that he would be able to help Boba.  

          Tiq entered the main room once again to find the men buzzing. There was an energy and a spark in the air that had not been there before. He also saw more than just the one man going to find Maul.

          Tiq could not help but grin.

          Seemed Maul had broken more chains than he was perhaps expecting, and in its placed…forged a few rings. Perhaps more than a few.

          It was a good thing.

_

          Maul sat quietly, kneeling in the dark. The Armourer sat before him, her hands on her knees, silent.

          It felt like ages since the last time he had done this. A lifetime ago, and in a way it was. His Brothers were free…

          Maul had done it.

          All of the work…all of the sacrifices, all Maul had done… They had done it. The Brothers were free. And now they had freed the Vode. The Vode who had been fed the Liquor of the Sands, had come to their own freedom with their help, the Brothers standing as ally and friend, and slowly integrating.

          They had taken names, tattoos, and shared similarly Mandalorian customs, as well as their own culture that they had assembled in the hell of Kamino.

          Maul was proud, and he knew that he was not the only one, the Jedi a constant presence that had worked so hard… And then there was Shmi. Shmi and her family of White Suns. They had worked to be someone to gravitate to when the Brothers or the Vode felt lost. The Galaxy was big, and they were many, but they were relatively young in the Galaxy. There was so much to learn.

          But the Senate had been a big help as well, Padmé and Bail leading the work to allow them citizenship, to allow the Vode and the Brothers into the Republic.

          Bail had been promoted as Chancellor.

          Maul had voted for Padmé.

          Maul had almost forgiven Bail for winning.

          It had been over a year of constant work, of shaping the Galaxy around them, of learning their place and spreading out.

          But now they had come back.

          They had one last order of business.

          Death Watch needed to be unified.

          The Mandalorians must rebuild.

          And so, the Armourer had come to him…and Maul had no idea why.

           “Why…have you asked me here?” Maul asked.

          “We are going to kill Pre Vizsla,” the Armourer responded.

          “Of course, you are,” Maul said. “That has been a goal of Death Watch since I freed you from bondage…but what does this have to do with me?”

          “Vizsla has the Darksaber,” the Armourer answered. “He has the power to unify the masses under that banner which means whoever kills him has won it. They have won Mandalore.”

          “Mandalore is ruled by a Duchess,” Maul returned. “A Duchess that does not share in the beliefs of those that follow the Saber.”

          “But for those that do, they are the only ones fit to rule,” the Armourer returned. “And it is possible that these ones may…overthrow others…”

          “You wish to oppose Duchess Satine?” Maul asked, raising an eyebrow. “An interesting proposal. What do you plan to do when she asks the Jedi for aid? Would you turn against them?”

          “We do not need to directly oppose her,” the Armourer denied. “We Watch for Death, Maul, but that does not mean we are always the cause of it. I do not know that we would have to oppose her in direct confrontation, but there are those that may seek the Saber.”

          “Then you must think well of who you wish to wield it,” Maul answered. “The battle is to keep your head as well as the Saber, I would expect.”

          “It is,” she said. “Which is why I am asking you to fight for it.”

          Maul blinked.

          “What?”

          “Maul,” she said, and her voice was more patient than he expected she wanted it to be. “You are Sith, but you are also ours. You are Death Watch. You have more right to the saber than some could even dream, and you are also one of the most powerful beings in the Galaxy. But you are also loved by many. If you took the saber there may be some that might wish to challenge you…but they would have to get through many others to do so.”

          “And who, precisely,” Maul began, contempt lacing his voice, a skeptical hiss, “would fight for me?””

          Maul whirled to face the crash behind him, startled to find not just… It was not just Death Watch that had come. It was the Vode…it was the Brothers…as well as his brothers. Feral and Savage stood there, grinning.

          “We would have you as Mand’alor…”

          And it was Soln that spoke, Soln that stepped forward, the one that had been leading Death Watch since Maul had freed it.

          Maul stood slowly, turning to face them, to look at them all…

          And blinked at the presence of Jango.

           Jango stood staring off into the distance, his arms crossed over his chest, defiance in his posture…but as Maul approached he straightened, meeting his gaze evenly.

          Jango had been talking to Tiq, Maul was aware, but the complexities eluded him. In a way, Maul had not cared. He knew that Boba was safe, was with someone who loved him for his own sake and that had been enough.

          It was one of the reasons Maul had not gone through with his proposal to Padmé to take Bail out, the knowledge that Boba had been given to Bail and Breha and was doing very well. Much better than Maul believed he had ever been with a father that had seen him more of an experiment to how he would have turned out. A child that was not loved for their own sake was rarely a happy child, and Boba had deserved better…just as the rest of the vode had.

          But now here Jango was, and the realization of what it meant…

          “You would have me for Mand’alor,” Maul said, staring at him.

          Jango said nothing for a moment. “Yes,” he said finally. “I would see you as Mand’alor. We have too long been divided…and I know that you have united more than just Death Watch to your name. The Armourer is right…you are the right choice.” Jango paused. “You also saw to it that Boba…that Boba was taken care of. I know you were one of the first to help him, and I…” he paused. “I am grateful.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment. “Have you asked for visitation rights?”

          “I do not know that Boba would want to see me,” Jango returned.

          “Try,” Maul said. “I will vouch for you.”

          “Why?”

          “Because that is the first I have heard that you actively considered Boba for his own sake. Because I can see that you miss him.”

          Jango said nothing.

          But Maul could see the slight smile on his face…and he could feel the contented excitement in his aura.

          It was a step…and it was a very good one.

          But now Maul still had the choice. Now Maul had to stand with the weight of the fact that they had asked him to rule.

          “I had planned…on rebuilding the Sith,” Maul said. “I joined your Death Watch in honor of a father I lost. I follow your tenants, but at the core of me I am Sith.”

          “The Mandalorians and the Sith have worked together before,” the Armourer said.

          “And the Sith need a people and protection while you are growing,” Soln said, stepping forward. “You need not split yourself in two. And you do not need to rule without help.”

          Maul took this in for a moment. “You want me as a figurehead.”

          The laugh was soft, and Soln put his arm around him, “This is not about use, Maul. We do not wish to use you. We wish to help you. Advise you. You would not be a puppet without power. I don’t know that we could do that to you to begin with.”

          “You could not,” Maul said. “I would not take it well.”

          “Thought not,” Soln grinned.

          Maul took in the offer, looked at the ones standing there, the Brothers he had thought to invite, to try… And thought of what it would mean. He would be giving a true unification to his people and the Vode, given the opportunity to unify Death Watch with a people that still needed a home, to create a world where they were home.

          And he would not have to do it alone.

          “Very well,” Maul said softly. “I shall be your Mand’alor.”

_

          “Jango.”

          The call of his name was enough to bring Jango’s attention back, finding Maul standing there.

          The Zabrak had changed into his armor, outside of the helmet which he was resting on his hip, the horns that covered his own, weapons in themselves, but he knew it was not all the Nightbrother had.

          “Maul,” he returned easily, as Maul stepped up next to him. “What is it?”

          “Will you be my Second?” Maul asked, turning to meet his gaze.

          Jango blinked. It was an unexpected question. Jango had initially thought that Maul would have gone with Soln, or perhaps one of his own brothers. There were many that would have jumped at the chance to watch Maul’s back…and yet he had gone to Jango.

          “Why?”

          Maul sighed. “I have no ulterior motive, Jango,” he said. “I merely asked you ages ago if you would like to be the one to claim revenge. I intend to give it to you, and while you cannot be the one to kill him…I would nonetheless trust you with my back.”

          Jango took that in for a moment, staring at a man who he realized was giving him the opportunity for everything that he had wanted…that was doing his best to give him what was promised. Jango didn’t even mind that it was late, it had needed to be. There had been so much that had needed to be done. So much that had needed to be done to fix Jango’s mistakes.

          “I will be your second,” Jango said. “I will watch your back. Though you must promise that this fight is fair. You cannot use that darjetii osik, Maul. If you fight him in a way that he cannot match then you will lose – not just honor but face. They will challenge you.”

          “You don’t have to worry about that, Jango,” Maul said. “I intend to fight him fair. I have no doubts in my ability to kill him without the Force.”

          “So, you’ll give him what you didn’t give me?” Jango asked, the slightest of smiles on his mouth.

          Maul eyed him like he had said something incredibly stupid.

          “It was not about fighting you fair,” Maul said, “it was about proving that you could be beaten. That you were not the most powerful thing that those men had ever seen…and you were more mortal and breakable than they thought. It was about showing you were a man, Jango, and not some monster that was unbeatable.” Maul paused. “That’s my job.”

          Jango laughed aloud, unable to help it, taking in the flashing fangs in the other man’s smile, the slit of his eyes and grinning, even as he felt that twist in his chest. “I don’t know that it worked. They love you, and I am grateful for it. You were right to do it,” Jango said finally. “And you were right to challenge me. I did abandon everything. I did allow my need for revenge to destroy my principles… I did…shame my father.”

          “Grief does strange things,” Maul said, staring out at the starscape, his gaze distant, and it brought his profile into sharper view.

          Jango looked at him, taking him in in a way he had not before…and found that he was young.

          “How old are you?” Jango asked.

          “Twenty-six,” Maul said without hesitation, apparently without thought, “I had thought twenty-seven, but I was informed that our gambling with my age had proven incorrect.”

          Jango stared at him. “You do not want to be the Mand’alor,” he said softly.

          “I am willing,” Maul said. “There is much that I can do with that position that I have wanted to do.” He paused. “But no. No. I do not know how well I will lead these people… You claim that there are those that would advise me, but I am…” Maul spread his hands. “No one has claimed their position. I do not know if they are waiting for me to prove victorious…”

          “I would,” Jango said, looking at him. “I have not…I do not have a good track record when it comes to my decisions. If I had not chosen to shoot first…if I had merely attempted to talk to the Jedi then it is possible…” Jango said nothing for a long moment. “Healer Tiq would be proud of me. I don’t know that I have said that without growing angry before…without trying to deny it…”

          “Healer Tiq is frequently proud of all of us, I believe,” Maul said softly.

          “I was young,” Jango said. “I recognize that now.”

          “I am young,” Maul returned.

          “You are. And a better man than I was.”

          Maul laughed, bitter, almost scoffing. “I have been given opportunities and I have played them,” he said softly.

          “We all deal the hand that we are dealt,” Jango agreed. “I am older now. And wiser…if you would seek what I have…”

          “I would take it,” Maul said. “I would also…so long as it was not a challenge for the Darksaber…be willing to indulge you in a fair spar?”

          Jango grinned and clapped the man on his shoulder. “I would be honored. And do not worry, Mand’alor. I know where my loyalties lie. Now tell me, how do you intend to counter the saber? Your pike may be considered an unfair advantage, as would your double-bladed weapon.”

          “Do not worry,” Maul said. He paused then. “Would you like to meet the man who originally offered to be my Second?”

          “You turned him down?” Jango asked.

          “I made a promise,” Maul said with a slight shrug. “I intended to keep it. I agreed to accept his weapon, though. He was willing to agree to that.”

          “Oh?” Jango asked, following Maul as he headed out into the ship. Jango walked beside him, watching the man in his peripheral vision as he greeted the people he passed with a nod, or a gesture.

          “Yes,” Maul said finally, looking to him out of the corner of his eye. “He was my Teacher. I attempted to be a Jedi for a time.”

          “Did you,” Jango said softly, a brow rising.

          “Didn’t take,” Maul said, a smile pulling at his mouth. “I am too angry.”

          Jango laughed, surprised.

          He paused for a moment and then briefly, quietly, “You were wrong, though.”

          “About?” Maul asked.

          “I always did love my son. But it was in that one instant that I…” Jango paused. “You made me recognize that I had been hurting him. In a way that I…” he trailed off. “I wanted to thank you for that. And for…for following up and fighting to allow me visitation. He is happy.”

          Maul was quiet for a moment.

          “I am sorry, Jango,” Maul said. “I did not want to keep you from your son forever.”

          “I know.” Jango paused. “They do not think that it has to be forever. But there is much I have done without…knowing.”

          “It is hard,” Maul said.

          “It is.”

          And then they finally turned the corner into a meditation room…and there sat a tall dark-skinned man, his eyes closed, meditating silently. It was a Jedi, which he had suspected, but one with a sterner expression and heavier countenance than Jango had anticipated.

          “Teacher,” Maul said, and the man looked up, and Jango watched as his expression softened.

          The man stood smoothly, approaching, and his attention turned to Jango.

          “This is Jango Fett,” Maul said. “Jango Fett, this is Mace Windu. He was my Teacher, as I said.” Jango inclined his head to the other man, something that was returned. “He is the one that I have promised as my Second. He has agreed.”

          Mace Windu took that in for a moment and then nodded, looking to Jango directly. Brown eyes met his and their gaze was fixed and stern. “Take care of him.”

          “You have my word,” Jango said, putting a hand to his chest. He knew a worried buir when he saw one. Jango understood. “I plan to see to it that he only has to focus on the fight before him.”

          “Good,” Mace said, and his expression pulled into a smile, “thank you.” He paused and then turned to Maul. “Would you like to take it now or later?”

          “When are you comfortable parting with it?” Maul asked.

          “I am comfortable with you growing familiar with it,” Mace returned.

          “Then I shall take it now,” Maul said, and Jango watched as Mace pulled the lightsaber from his belt and held it out to Maul.

          Maul took it carefully before igniting the blade, and purple streamed out.

          It was a beautiful weapon.

          Jango nodded.

          “That’ll do.”

          “Indeed,” Maul said softly.

_

          Feral stood alongside his twin, Savage framing his other side, and Jango at Maul’s back.

          Feral understood why he could not be Maul’s Second, and even understood why Jango was the one that they had chosen, but it nonetheless rankled. Jango had inclined his head politely towards the two Brothers when he had seen them, and Feral had returned the gesture. But ultimately, Feral wanted to be with his brother.

          Feral was so proud, and so utterly amazed that he sometimes did not know how to handle it.

          It was strange to think that this was the same brother that he had gotten to know. It was strange to think that this was the same brother that would hide with him from younglings by lying atop pillars, would tease them with limbs just out of reach to allow them to try and catch… The same brother that would similarly use those pillars to hide from Obi-Wan and have Feral inform him that he would not be talking to him.

          Feral had learned so much about his brother, Savage often joining them when he was able, which was not as much as he would like.

          Savage had agreed to help Viscous. He was the spokesperson for the Nightbrother Diaspora that were still attempting to settle and so was often busy, but they always were together when they could be.

          Maul had spoken of the possibility of making this more common, of the opportunity to unite their peoples with the Vode, and the Mandalorian splinter group that was still in existence and had been growing.

          Feral did not understand much of Mandalorian politics… He understood that there was technically a Duchess, one that Maul seemed to hold in some manner of…not perhaps contempt, Feral had seen his brother hold people in contempt before and she did not hold the same level of ire, but certainly a level of annoyance. But they were not attempting to retake the whole of Mandalore. Not yet, as Maul had put it with a very intent look at Obi-Wan which the Jedi had pretended to ignore.

          The Duchess had apparently called Maul after that, and Maul had simply hung up on her.

          Repeatedly.

          Feral had been unable to stop laughing.

          But from what Feral did understand, Maul had no intention of going after the Mandalorians that were upon the planet, and instead was perfectly willing to leave them be… But he was planning on reuniting the factions that were under another man.

          A man that Maul had to kill. A man that Maul needed to take a saber from.

          Feral could understand that.

          Symbolic weapons that held the power to unite the peoples underneath them was not an unknown concept to Nightbrothers, though theirs had all been lost to them. As it was, Feral walked next to his brothers, and knew that he would kill to keep them together.

          Feral walked next to his brothers and thought of a small boy that had stood in their midst and the man that he had turned out to be. Feral was proud.

          And more than a little amazed.

          Feral knew it was not all his brother.

          Feral knew that the Jedi had helped the Vode, and similarly he knew that the Vode had latched onto the Nightbrothers, and he also knew that the Death Watch had been what had helped free the Brothers, and similarly so had White Sun which had been so instrumental in not only showing the Brothers that not all women wished to enslave or hurt them, but also that there was more out there. There was a constantly reaching hand that had been extended towards each of them…

          But Feral could not forget Maul in that Holocron as he spoke of not knowing if he would ever come back.

          Feral could not forget the little boy that had loved.

          Maul looked to him briefly and Feral smiled.

          “You ready to be the Maul’dalor?” Feral asked, his smile given teeth.

          Jango laughed, even as Maul rolled his eyes.

          “We should start calling it that,” Jango said, laughter in his voice. “Mandalore is still under the rule of the Duchess, and supposing you don’t mean to take over…”

          “Obi-Wan is not here, is he?” Maul asked, looking around unnecessarily.

          “He is not,” Savage answered, laughter in his voice and in the slight curve of his mouth. “As you very well know. You forbade him from coming, and as you are about to be Mauld’dalor…”

          “That is even worse than calling me Mand’alor,” Maul said.

          “Very well, Mand’alor,” Jango said immediately.

          Feral and Savage both roared with laughter, Maul turning to stare at Jango, the man smiling at him without fear or worry.

          Maul rolled his eyes once more and continued walking.

          “I do not have an interest in actively opposing or hurting the Duchess Satine because she is…well. I do not know if she considers me a friend…”

          “You have probably seen to it that she does not,” Feral laughed.

          “But I do enjoy her company,” Maul said, talking over him. “And I do not wish her harm. She is an idiot. Her ideals on pacifism are not only misplaced they are extreme, but I believe they are reactionary to what the Mandalorian people had become. And I do respect her ability to stand by those ideals even if I do think that given enough pressure she would break her own people before she allowed them to break.”

          “You have thought about this a good deal,” Jango said briefly.

          “I have,” Maul answered. “I have also decided the possibility of stealing her citizens right underneath her nose by simply being a better ruler of her people would be more entertaining than any attempts I make to actually dispose of her.”

          Savage laughed. “It likely would be,” he agreed.

          Jango looked at his comm briefly, giving a soft sound. “They’re in position. We can seek an audience with Vizsla whenever you feel up for it.”

          Maul paused at that.

          “I am hesitating aren’t I?” he asked.

          “You have made us walk around the perimeter…four times now,” Savage pointed out.

          “I was waiting for them to get set up,” Maul said. He paused. “Can I do this?”

          “Take Vizsla’s head off?” Jango asked. “Undoubtedly. Rule an entire people?” Jango paused, “your Brothers are loyal. The Vode adores you. Death Watch…” he trailed off. “It is funny to me…that I have joined with someone who is seeking to rebuild what killed us.”

          “We were thrown out before you even entered the picture,” Maul said. Then paused. “Fuck.”

          Jango laughed. “You’re claiming it. You have recognized its history. You know its tenants. You are willing to follow.”

          “I have. I do. I will.”

          “You care.”

          “I do.”

          “I think that will make you a great leader,” Savage said.

          “I think they would kill for you,” Feral said. “And they will not be the only ones.”

          “More importantly…” Jango said, and his voice was low, and it was hard, “I think they would die for you.”

          Maul made a soft sound at that.

          “Are you ready?”

          Maul closed his eyes, for a moment breathing deep and allowing himself to center, Feral feeling the tension in the bond that connected him to his Brother, the uncertainty. Feral brushed up against it, and Maul grabbed hold, Feral gripping tight to his brother’s aura and feeding him slowly with feelings of certainty, of loyalty, of love.

          Feral had no doubt that Maul could do this.

          Maul’s hold tightened briefly, warming Feral with feelings of acceptance, of gratefulness…

          And then Maul slowly let go, breathing out.

          “Very well,” Maul said. “Tell them we are going to enter the compound.”

          Jango sent the message across, and Maul led them into the mines.

          Pre Vizsla was waiting.

_

          Pre Vizsla hung up the comm, his head bowed.

          Talking to Satine was exhausting. He stood before her as her chosen Governor when for years…for years all Pre had wanted to do was claim her spot. All he had wanted to do was rule Mandalore, to return it to the Glory. All his life Pre had heard of the battles of his Ancestors. The sword that he carried a legacy to a people that had been. To his family and what they had created.

          Pre had looked back upon his line of greater men and found himself small in a way that he could not stand.

          He was standing upon their shoulders…but there was nowhere he could reach.

          Pre had joined with the Count, made attempts to broaden his resources, to reclaim Mandalore…

          And yet here he stood, and the Separatists had fallen to pieces.

          The Count had been imprisoned.

          Grievous was even gaining therapy the last he had heard, which he would never have believed.

          There was nothing left. All that was there was him…and Bo-Katan, and the remains of a force that they had created.

          The problem was, Pre had no plan.

          Pre could no longer operate in the shadows. There was no way to show that Satine’s leadership had holes. There was no way for him to take over in a way that would lead to the people trusting him.

          There would be no war…there would be nothing that he could use to conceal his efforts.

          They would have to start again.

          Pre wondered idly whether or not it was even worth doing. Dooku had been captured, surely…surely at some point he would tell them of Death Watch.

          Surely Pre’s life would be forfeit as would the rest of them. He had no doubt that Dooku would attempt a plea bargain, and it would be everyone else’s neck but his. It was infuriating.

          Pre had no desire to spend his last years in a cell. Pre hated idleness and he hated the idea of wasting away more than anything.

          His ancestors had been proud warriors, ones that had even stolen from the Jedi themselves, and now here he stood…

          Here he stood.

          In an old mining catacomb in a moon that had almost been destroyed… Governor of a people of warriors that could not fight.

          Pre wished for many things.

          An honorable death was one of them.

          Pre looked over as Bo-Katan approached, taking in the woman as she nodded to the members of the Watch she passed, her gaze nonetheless fixed on his. Pre did not know what to tell her. She had abandoned everything, family her home, her sister in order to be with the Watch, had carved out the Nite Owls. Her dreams had been the same, to see The Mandalorians returned to the warring peoples they were. To see their honor and glory restored…

          But what did they have left?

          Pre sighed, turning to face her as she finally came to a stop before him.

          “What did she say?” Bo asked.

          Pre thought back to the conversation, wondering what was actually useful, what Bo actually wanted. Sometimes he thought that she missed her sister. Sometimes he thought that she wanted for him to tell her that she had changed her opinions, that Death Watch should be reinstated. Pre wasn’t even all that sure he blamed her.

          Satine was still her sister.

          But at the same time, there was the way that she had said it. There was the annoyance in the tone, and Pre could never tell.

          “She spoke of Dooku,” Pre said. “About how he was going to be making a plea bargain. Mentioned Death Watch.” Pre paused before smiling. “She told me to be careful.”

          “Then it’s all over then,” Bo said softly. “Unless we run now…”

          “Where would we run?” Pre asked. “Would you have us go underground? Have us refuse to take off our helmets, go into a galaxy as common bounty hunters? Leave our names and selves behind?”

          “There has to be a way,” Bo said. “Maybe we create our own army. We have…”

          “What resources do we have?” Pre asked. “Who would we go to that are not villainous scum? How can we trust them to have our backs? What happens when they realize that Death Watch does not have the numbers to truly oppose them?” Pre sighed. “I cannot see a way out, Bo. Can you?”

          “There must be something,” Bo said. “Surely…my sister would offer clemency, we could…”

          “You wish to take an offer from your sister? Even if it would put us in the position to betray her later?”

          Bo said nothing.

          “I had thought not.”

          There was silence and Pre sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

          “Are we just going to give up then?” Bo asked. “That’s it? This…this is it?”

          Pre looked to her, spreading his hands. “What would you have me do? All of our power, all of our dealings we had in secrecy, but they were nonetheless underneath Satine’s nose. They were nonetheless done with a group that is now being prosecuted.”

          Bo drew herself up, angry…

          An explosion shook the camp, and Pre stood up, for a moment wondering whether or not Satine had figured it out and had sent for them… But this was Satine. She would never have resorted to violence.

          So, what…was this?

          The sounds continued, a fight, coming towards them, and then…

          The doors were blasted open. His troops poured in, retreating, sending bolts that…

          That froze…in mid-air… Hovering before them like some sort of deadly light show.

          They stopped firing, and the shots were sent away, sent back into the walls harmlessly.

          Pre could not believe what he was seeing. Three men entered first, one of them dressed as a Mandalorian all in black, and the two behind them were… They were Nightbrothers. The one in front was a Nightbrother, his horns tall, each of them walking forward with an air of utter confidence, a swagger that spoke of warriors born…

          And behind them came another man… A man that was repeated in the faces on the ones behind him, and… More Nightbrothers.

          And then someone that Pre remembered, someone he never thought he would see again.

          Soln.

          Soln Wor.

          Death Watch had been cleansed of the non-humans that had once inhabited it by his father. Soln was amongst the number, as were… And as Pre watched he realized what this was…

          And found his attention drawn once again to the Nightbrother at the front.

          Blood-red skin…eyes that glowed in the dark, and an expression that was almost…

          Bored.

          And then those eyes locked on Pre.

          And Pre remembered hearing of this being.

          Pre remembered the whispers of the one that was tearing apart Zygerria. Pre remembered the temporary fear of what would happen if those stripped from Death Watch came back. He remembered fearing what they may do…

          Pre looked into those eyes…

          And he saw his death.

          Pre watched as the force before him spread out… His gaze fell upon Jango Fett… Jango Fett…who was staring at him with a smirk on his face…

          And then the one who walked forward froze in the wide arena that they had used to challenge each other in, the arena that would be his death.

          “I am Maul,” he said, his voice a rich growl that rumbled low, and then a singular finger pointed towards Pre Vizsla, “and I challenge you – one warrior to another…for the right to wield the Darksaber. I challenge you for the right to rule Death Watch.”

          Pre looked back to the men and the women that had followed him, the ones that he did not know how to help… And stared at the one before him.

          Maul.

          Pre tilted his head.

          “So be it,” he said, and stepped forward into the ring.

          Pre knew that he would not be fighting fair. He had seen the way the Nightbrothers had used the Force. He also knew that the one that had to lead their people was one that had to be tricky, had to be quick, had to know that life would not play fair…

          And so, he stood before him and ignited the Darksaber.

          And then Maul ignited his own weapon, and purple came forth.

          The blade of a Jedi.

          But Pre did not think that this man was a Jedi.

          It was only as he attacked with the Darksaber, it was only as Maul met him on even footing…that he realized that Maul intended to kill him without the Force.

          Good.

          Maybe he would be able to give him a scar to remember.

          Pre attacked fiercely, attempting to put the man on the defensive, to get him to stumble back, but Maul was even with him, and indeed was more skilled. Pre could see the slightest of smiles on his face, and the realization that he was amusing him was almost more than he could take.

          The feeling of a boot in his face, sending him back caused him to pull a blaster, firing immediately and with every shot Maul deflected it, none of them were back towards Pre, but it was clear that Maul could block him. Pre launched himself forward with the saber once more, the jetpack boosting him forward.

          Maul caught the blade with his own, pushing him back, and Pre changed his angle, managing to elbow the man’s head…

          It was only as Maul reared backwards in surprise at the sudden blow that Pre could feel ringing through his bones that he realized he may have made a mistake.

          That same head that Pre realized was crowned in horns and was made for it bashed into his own heavily, Pre finding his vision going temporarily black, stumbling away, and he slashed with the saber instinctively, feeling it be caught, aiming another stroke, and then sending his wrist-mounted flamethrower directly towards him.

          Maul dropped below it, diving forward, sending Pre toppling, the flamethrower dying as it became too dangerous… Pre also realized his danger in grappling with a Zabrak.

          Pre could feel it, the strength in the limbs that sought to pin him, to keep him…

          Pre sent the blades mounted in his wrist straight-up, Maul forced to back away, fall back, and for a moment he saw blood…

          There was that scar…

          Pre rolled himself to his feet, and once again launched himself in the air, throwing bomb after bomb as Maul rolled…

          And then he launched himself up towards him, one of the first times that he actively utilized the Force, and it was to equalize their playing field. Pre felt the boots on his chest, felt the crunch as he hit the ground and rolled, pressing the button to release the death-trap from his back and kicking it towards Maul, who dove underneath it and came up with the saber yet again.

          Pre brought his own saber up, attacking and parrying, feeling the jar in his arms as the blows from someone so much stronger rained upon him. And all the while blood trickled down Maul’s face, trailing through the red of his tattoos.

          Pre knew that he was grinning.

          Pre kicked, feeling the impact of a boot on his own face even as he sent Maul backwards with his own. Maul stood first, Pre forcing himself upright, unable to let it happen like this.

          It would be on his feet, or it would not be…

          Pre shot his rope trap, catching Maul around the legs… Maul cut the rope off, and Pre shot the saber from his hand, charging forward, and the hope… There was a hope…

          Pre attacked and Maul caught hold of his sword arm, and Pre knew that was it.

          Maul bent his arm back, nearly breaking it across his own shoulder, Pre forced to let go.

          And that was the moment when Maul once again began attacking.

          Fists and feet and Pre could not keep up… Maul was a superior warrior.

          Maul sent him to his knees… And Pre could not…

          Pre forced himself to tackle the other man, to send him back, to go for his throat… Maul forced his way through Pre’s hands, smashing his horns against Pre’s forehead, and the black spots were back, and they were worse… Pre fell backwards, sent to the ground…

          Maul stood…and Pre heard the sound of the Darksaber…the knowledge that Maul had claimed it.

          Pre forced himself slowly to his feet and Maul waited, watching, the blood trickling down his face…

          “It is as you said…” Pre said roughly, feeling his legs tremble beneath him, staring into the face of his death. “Only the strongest shall rule.”

          And then nothing.

[duchess-of-mandalore]

“Duchess. Pre Vizsla and his men have entered the palace. Should we stop them?”

“How can we? The people are on their side now.”

[gffa]

THE MANDALORIAN TIMELINE

50 Years Ago - Grogu was born ?? Years Ago - The Mandalorian Civil War.      Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn were sent to help Duchess Satine Kryze and protect her from insurgents as her people were embroiled in civil war, killing most of them.  Jango Fett fought in these wars at some point. ?? Years Ago - Din Djarin doesn’t have an exact age, but he’s likely in his 40s, so he would have been born at some point in here. 41 Years Ago - The Phantom Menace, Boba Fett is born 31 Years Ago - Attack of the Clones, the Clone Wars begin, Kamino’s clone army is discovered, Jango Fett dies on Geonosis 31 to 28 Years Ago - The Clone Wars      While Mandalore attempts to remain neutral in the conflict between the Republic and the Separatists, Death Watch uses the rising tensions (and are secretly working with Count Dooku of the Separatists) to stage attacks on Sundari, attempting to kill Duchess Satine Kryze and take over the planet.      At some point in the war, there seems to be an attack on Din Djarin’s home planet and they’re shown being fired on by Separatist battle droids, when Mandalorians come to rescue him.  The Mandalorians are wearing the symbol of Death Watch (despite that they’ve previously been allied with the Separatists?), though, it’s unclear what the connection between Death Watch and the Children of the Watch is.

     Pre Vizsla of Clan Vizsla is the governor of Concordia (a moon of Mandalore), voiced by Jon Favreau, secretly leads the Death Watch and reveals that he has the darksaber when he fights against Obi-Wan Kenobi after its revealed that Pre is part of Death Watch.       Clan Vizsla is one of the most central Clans of Mandalore, including the only known Mandalorian Jedi (Tarre Vizsla, creator of the Darksaber) was from their House, which is why Pre feels entitled to it, despite that Tarre left it with the Jedi.  Paz Vizsla is also likely from this clan.      The Children of the Watch were also hidden on Concordia at the time of the Great Purge, which is how they survived the genocide of their people.      Bo-Katan Kryze is also part of Death Watch at this point in time.

27 Years Ago - Bo-Katan and Ahsoka meet when Death Watch invade and occupy a village on the planet of Carlac, though, they are enemies at this point in time. 28 Years Ago -  Darth Maul (who was found still alive on the garbage planet of Lotho Minor and rescued by his birth mother, Mother Talzin, and another Nightbrother from his clan, Savage Opress) was defeated and stranded, but is rescued by Death Watch.      They use the Sith for their Force abilities and connections to crime syndicates for resources and to play the invader while they play rescuer to get the Mandalorian people on their side.  Their ruse works and Duchess Satine is overrun, placing her in prison, while Death Watch rules a puppet master Prime Minister.      Because Death Watch betrayed Maul once they had taken over Mandalore, he fights his way to the throne room, battles Pre Vizsla and wins the Darksaber (decapitating Pre), as well declaring himself ruler of Mandalore, having won the fight.      While most of Death Watch kneels and swears allegiance to Maul, Bo-Katan refuses to follow an outsider as ruler of Mandalore and leaves Death Watch.

     Maul uses the prisoner Duchess Satine to lure Obi-Wan Kenobi to the planet so he can have revenge, killing her and forcing Obi-Wan to retreat, leaving him in charge of Mandalore with no one to oppose him.      Not much later, Sheev Palpatine (Darth Sidious) decides Maul has become too much of an unknown variable and thorn in his side, so he travels to Mandalore to fight him.  He kills Savage and secretly imprisons him, but the puppet Prime Minister (Almec) remembers that Maul freed him previously (after he was imprisoned for being corrupt) and sends Gar Saxon and Rook Kast to free him.     After rebuilding himself for a bit of time, Maul regains the Darksaber and returns to Mandalore to take it over once again.     Bo-Katan, having left behind Death Watch, gets in touch with Ahsoka Tano and asks for her help in fighting off Maul, who agrees and they go to ask the Jedi and the Republic to send troops.

     While the Republic has no legal standing here--and is in danger of violating several treaties, as well as this is an invasion of a neutral planet, but Mandalore needs taking care of, because Maul is dangerous--they send enough clone troopers to defeat Maul’s Death Watch.      Ahsoka defeats Maul and Bo-Katan is left in charge of Mandalore (the clones staying behind to help clean up the mess, but within a day or two, Order 66 is enacted, the Jedi are genocided nearly out of existence, and the Empire rises, folding Mandalore into its clutches and they are no longer a neutral system.     Emperor Palpatine leaves Gar Saxon as Governor of Mandalore and the clans of Mandalore go along with this, because they are in too bad of a shape to resist. (It was a busy year, okay.) 11 Years Ago - The crew of the Ghost (from Star Wars Rebels, including Sabine Wren, of Clan Wren, of Mandalore) come across the Darksaber and take it with them.  It passes into Sabine’s possession.       Fenn Rau works to convince Sabine, as the daughter of House Wren of Mandalore, to take up the darksaber and unite Mandalore with it.  It’s a symbol of House Vizsla and the other clans greatly respect it, so if Sabine of Clan Wren, a vassal of House Vizsla, were to show up with it, she could unite them.       Sabine briefly trains with the Darksaber, but struggles to decide how to proceed with it and her contentious relationship with her family.  Returning to Krownest (a planet in the Mandalore sector, home to the Wren clan) to talk with her family, Sabine’s mother Ursa Wren gives the Darksaber to Gar Saxon. When Saxon threatens to kill off the entire Clan Wren, aiming for Ursa first, Sabine steps in to fight him with Ezra’s lightsaber, defeating him in combat for it. 10 Years Ago - Sabine Wren, having won the Darksaber in combat, rallies her family into deciding to fight back against the Empire’s occupation of Mandalore but gives the darksaber to an initially reluctant Bo-Katan Kryze.         Leaders of several clans of Mandalore swear allegiance to her and they vow to fight the Empire, after many years of living under Imperial rule.

~9-10 Years Ago - Mandalore is united under Bo-Katan’s leadership and they fight back against the Empire, but it does not go well and the Empire basically glasses Mandalore, a planet that was already devastated by years and years of civil war, the only habitable zones being under glass domes.      "Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordnance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in the Night of a Thousand Tears." --Moff Gideon

9 Years Ago - A New Hope, the Death Star is destroyed, the crew of Rogue One die in getting the plans for it 6 Years Ago - The Empire Strikes Back 5 Years Ago - Return of the Jedi, the Second Death Star destroyed, Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader and Yoda all die, the early formation of the New Republic happens, Boba Fett fell into the Sarlacc pit      Operation: Cinder takes place just after Palpatine’s death, it was a backup plan devised by the Emperor that, if he should die, several key worlds would be orbitally bombed out of existence, because if the galaxy failed to keep him alive, he wanted it punished.       Not much longer after the ending of ROTJ, Boba climbs out of the Sarlacc pit and is taken prisoner by the Tusken Raiders. 0 to 5 Years Ago - It’s unclear the exact timeline of The Book of Boba Fett’s events, but he must stay with the Tuskens for several years because he was taken in by them shortly after ROTJ (4 years ago) and is shown regaining his armor in season 2 of The Mandalorian (0 years ago), which he has in the current day flashbacks of TBOBF. 4 Years Ago - The Battle of Jakku happens, widely considered when the Empire fully fell.  The wreckage on Jakku that Rey is scavenging in The Force Awakens is from the massive battle over the planet. 0 Years Ago - The Mandalorian, season 1     Din Djarin meets Grogu and is tasked with finding a Jedi to deliver him to, meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and Boba Fett and Luke Skywalker along the way.  In rescuing Grogu from a kidnapping, he wins the Darksaber in combat (end of season 2) and is still in possession of it during TBOBF.      It’s unclear how much time has passed since season 1 started, but it’s unlikely to be more than a year or so.  (Pedro Pascal said not much time passed between s1 and s2, so it’s probably safe to assume not much time passed between s2 and TBOBF, maybe a few months.)

[impossibleprincess35]

Politely and respectfully, I speak calmly into the void:

In the conversation about Satine's pride leading to the Shadow Collective and Maul gaining ground in Mandalore, I must disagree. Satine's pride had nothing to do with it because so long as Pre Vizsla and his quest for power was a factor, Mandalore was doomed.

Maul and the Shadow Collective didn't scope out the galaxy and find a flaw (re: pacifism) in Mandalore and go, "Oh, hey, there's our opportunity to infiltrate."

Pre Vizsla and Death Watch manufactured a plan in which they opened up the pathways and allowed Maul and the Shadow Collective to flood Sundari and stage a scene to undermine Satine's rule.

(I could write for hours about my thoughts on parallels between the attack on Sundari and the real life insurrection on the U.S. Capitol on 1/6/21, but I'll spare you all.)

Pre Vizsla committed acts of treason and endangered his own people, caring about nothing other than his goal of obtaining the seat of power with the weak justification that he would restore Mandalore to its warrior past. Bodies are dropping, people are being traumatized, and he's orchestrated these things - and he had to orchestrate them because otherwise, Mandalore was peaceful and safe.

And it wasn't just one event.

You had the attack on Sundari, but also the Peace Park bombing, and the incident on Concordia when he tried to kill Satine and Obi-Wan; and here's the thing about that, Obi-Wan was a visiting Jedi Master/General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Maybe the Republic would have turned a blind eye to Satine's death, but Obi-Wan's? Republic forces could have been on the ground in days with a full scale invasion. Such prowess! Much strategy! Wow.

Keep in mind, Pre thought he was going to double-cross Maul, throw him and his brother in a prison cell, and sit around victorious in the Grand Salon as if he had earned the throne through real merit. Had he been a real warrior and worthy of leading Mandalore, he would have achieved the seat of power through honorable means; but his pride led him to seek an alliance with shady crime syndicates and a fucking Sith, which was never going to work out in his favor.

And in the long run, what kind of ruler would Pre Vizsla have been if he hadn't been beheaded by Maul? His entire rise to power was built on deception. He would have become an absolute nightmare, wielding fear and the Darksaber, but not towards "enemies" in the galaxy, but towards his own people and those closest to him in an attempt to keep his power.

And what happens when Pre dies? Death Watch crumbles. The schism is profound and no one immediately rises up to carry on the work and keep the faction together and operational. Because what was the work? It was never really about restoring Mandalore to some glorified past. It was about Pre Vizsla's quest for power. Not even Bo-Katan honors the ways of their warrior past when Pre is bested in a duel for the Darksaber. Because it's never been about their warrior ways, so much as it was about Pre wanting the throne. (This paragraph is complete conjecture, but it's what I think and I'll die on this hill.)

Was Satine prideful at times? Yes, but blaming her for the fall of Mandalore is tantamount to finding no fault in Pre Vizsla's never-ending efforts to create conflict where there was none, all so that he could sit upon the throne for a few days until Maul rightly rocked his shit.

[tmae3114]

they're not going to do it but in a better world the writers would use this particular decision to give Sabine the darksaber back as a way of symbolically returning it to its true purpose (the lightsaber of a mandalorian jedi, entrusted to the care of his fellow Jedi after his death) and freeing it of being the blood soaked tool of conquest it was turned into after Clan Vizsla STOLE IT

watched the first episode of the Ahsoka show and I have EXTREMELY MIXED FEELINGS about That One Thing They Did With Sabine

[mandalorianchronicles]

Mandalorian History 101

The following is a simplified timeline of all the major events in Mandalorian history leading up to The Clone Wars. This is compiled from the section of The Bounty Hunter Code dealing with Death Watch and Mandalorian history. It is copywrite 2014, the first year of the new canon. Though the book is not included in Disney canon, it was published after TCW episodes dealing Death Watch and not been refuted by anything in current canon, so there is no reason to believe it is not accurate. 

approx. 7000 BBY - The Taung race (Progenitors of present day Mandalorians) cleanse Mandalorian space of its inhabitants and lay down roots

approx. 4000 BBY - Mandalorians fight alongside the Sith in the Great Sith War, but are betrayed - Mand’alor the Ultimate opens up the creed to their slaves and conquered people because their race is dying out - They begin a campaign for galactic conquest called The Onlaught, but it was more to fill out their ranks with new recruits - They are defeated by the Republic and the Mandalorians lay low for a time

approx. 1100 BBY - Mand’alor the Uniter brought the best and brightest Mandalorians from the throughout the galaxy home - Warriors ruled, protecting the artisans, manufacturers, and laborers who supported them, and the vassals and servants who supported them in turn - The Darksaber is forged by Tarre Vizsla (the only Mandalorian to become a Jedi)

approx. 700 BBY - Mandalorians begin to stir again and the Jedi take up arms, nearly wiped them out in the “Annihilation” - The New Mandalorians who rejected the warrior ways gain power when the Republic installed them in the government - The Aka’liit (The Mandalorian Faithful to the warrior way) lived in the shadows, giving the allegiance to the True Mandalores they appointed

approx. 200 BBY - There is a split among the Faithful – some wanted to conquer any potential threats while others argued against starting wars and living by more peaceful means

approx. 60 BBY - The Faithful chose Jaster Mereel as the True Mandalore, who wanted to implement honorable rules of conduct for all Mandalorians on how they earn wealth by bounty hunting or the red trade - Tor Vizsla, who dreamed of Mandalorians returning to their roots as conquerors, split away and formed the Death Watch, becoming the Secret Mandalore. The Death Watch used the Darksaber (an heirloom of House Vizsla) as a symbol of their authority and made a decree than anyone could challenge the Secret Mandalore for leadership and “win” the Darksaber*

52 BBY - Tor Vizsla killed the True Mandalore, Jaster Mereel - Jango Fett’s adopted father

44 BBY - The Death Watch tricked the Jedi into eliminating the True Mandalorians for them

approx. 44-39 BBY - The Great Clan Wars take place within the ranks of the The Faithful - Adonai Kryze is killed in battle - Duchess Satine Kryze of the New Mandalorians assumes the throne of Mandalore - Tor Vizsla is killed by Jango Fett in 42 BBY - The Darksaber is entrusted to Pre Vizsla, governor of Concordia and the new Secret Mandalore of Death Watch, who takes in Bo-Katan Kryze as his protege

Since the Great Clan Wars take place after the True Mandalorians are wiped out, we know that Adonai Kryze was not part of their ranks. The following quote from Tor Vizsla concerning the Kryze family suggests that Adonai was one of his men, or was at least revered by him. Considering that Tor dies shortly after this is written, it’s not a big leap to see how Bo-Katan came to be on Concordia with Pre Vizsla, his successor. 

“Meanwhile, centuries of New Mandalorian lies had left the Mando’ade weak and soft. One of my kinswomen, the Duchess Satine Kryze, had been sent offworld as a child by her father, a mighy clan warlord, and she fell prey to the lies of the Jedi. After father perished in the Great Clan Wars, she betrayed his memory by becoming the leader of the New Mandalorians. Aided by Jedi tricks, she became the newest Anti-Mandalore, whereupon the exhausted Mando’ade flocked to her banner. Some of our warriors were exiled to the moon Concordia. Others – myself included – slipped away to resume the ba’slan shev’la.” - Tor Vizsla

* The decree that one could become Mand’alor by winning the Darksaber in combat from the current Mand’alor was an invention of Death Watch (in canon and legends), so it suggests a strong tie between Death Watch and the Children of the Watch that the latter is so hung up on this “tradition” when it’s only been a thing for about 70-75 years. 

[titikawai]

They need to address Bo’s trauma

Alright so this is going to be a super long essay about Bo’s trauma as I have been doing some research for the next chapters of my fic Mind Games. I went through her background and thought I would share with you my headcanons surrounding that. I especially realized that with her deaging came quite heavy consequences and thought we could discuss them. 

There are of course going to be HUGE TRIGGER WARNINGS : Grief, Grooming, SA, anxiety, depression, s*ic*de. DISCLAIMER I am no therapist so this is just me drawing from some of my how experiences with trauma and doing some researches online. 

Please know your limits and do not attempt to read this if you feel uneasy around those topics, I wouldn’t want to trigger anyone. Same goes with the potential comments that will be left under this post

So first, I’ll start with the implications of deaging Bo-Katan as they did. When we watch Clone Wars, we are led to understand that she is Satine’s younger sister but there are no indications on her age. If we think about it logically, there would probably be around an age gap of maximum 5 years between them. However, as many already pointed out, it would mean that she’d be around 60 years old in the third season of the Mandalorian. I watched a few of Katee Sackhof’s interview where she was saying that Bo-Katan was way younger that many thought she was. Indeed, with her being cast for Bo and Rosario Dawson for Ahsoka, I figured that it probably that the two were probably around the same age in CW, hence them becoming “friends” starting 7th season. It thus means that she probably was in her late teens or early twenties. However, the directors’ decision to deage her has quite huge implications : 

 Headcanons : 

* First of all, it means that there was quite a huge age gap between Satine and her sister: 15 to 20 years approximately

· We figured from the first episodes of season 3 that Bo-Katan has known her Dad and that he fought and died in the Great Mandalorian civil war. There was no mention of her mom so I just assume she died in childbirth of during the civil war as well. 

·  When her dad died, Satine became duchess of Mandalore and probably didn’t have time to personally take care of such a young sister, especially considering that she went under Qui-Gon and Obi Wan’s protection. The latter never met her so it means that she probably stayed on Mandalore with her nannies or relatives, witnessing the horros of the Civil war. She probably felt abandoned by her sister. She probably wished the war to end as soon as possible (some have theorized that her dad probably taught her how to fight so she probably wasn’t scared of using violence to defend her planet), explaining why she never understood why her sister was a pacifist.

· I am a strong believer in Satine being Korkie’s mom (I mean there is no third sister). So it means that Bo-Katan was probably a child when her big sister got pregnant with Obi-Wan. Probably, she witnessed her sister going into hidding to have her baby to try and not become a pariah. I figure this would explain Bo-Katan’s resentment against Jedis and particularly Obi-Wan as he didn’t reach out to her sister nor stepped up for her nephew (with whom there isn’t such a big age gap)

·       So, I have seen this theory going around the internet and read it in some fanfics. It makes sense to me and would explain many things in Bo-Katan’s behaviour. THIS IS WHERE THE TW BEGINS (Grooming) : I figured that Bo-Katan probably met Pre Vizsla after the civil war as he was part of the clan of the enemy. He probably quickly became her mentor, an authority figure that she felt like could replace her dad (she definitely has daddy issues). He probably made her feel understood and special, filling the whole of her parents and Satine’s absence. I honestly believe in the grooming theory saying that he manipulated her into a relationship and death watch to take over the throne of Mandalore taking advantage of her status as the duchess’ sister (as he knew it would humiliate the latter). 

·        TW (SA) Bo probably became very secretive and broke contact with her sister, probably experiencing quite a lot of anxiety : as groomed individuals cannot give consent she was victim of SA. One proof of that would be that “imfamous” butt slap she gave Ahsoka upon meeting her (which is also SA). This sexualized behaviour is not appropriate for a teen or young adult. 

*        Her exposure to this type of trauma probably made her feel like she felt invicible to danger and that is when she developed a violent, criminal behaviour (let’s not forget she participated in the burning of a village and the enslavement of its inhabitants). 

·        Then Pre Vizsla died by the hands of Darth Maul and she started feeling  grief but also probably self doubt, being hit with what she had done and went back to her sister.  She did horrible things while in DW and probably enjoyed them back then through her broken perception of things.

·        Then Satine died and she felt guilty for her death because obviously she she betrayed her. This changed her deeply as she was bombarded with her overwhelming feelings of blame, regret, guilt and confusion, probably struggling with TW drug or alcohol abuse, self harm or suicidal thoughts. 

·        She ended up leading her people, most of them probably hating her for what happened to their planet, Pre Vizsla and her sister, for Maul and of course later, the Purge… She was not her sister and I don’t think that she had ever thought through becoming the duchess of Mandalore. She definitely wanted the power but probably was not ready for that responsibility. Her people respected her because she was royalty, nothing more. They did not have love for her, nor respect : hence why they all left her once she didn’t have the darksaber anymore.

·        All those events had a huge impact on her adult life considering she had lost the majority of people she cared for and struggled to build strong and healthy relationships

She definitely struggles to be vulnerable around others tie that scene with Grogu where she asks him what he is looking at in episode 2) 

·        When it comes to romantic relationships, I picture her having an avoidant attachment style used her sex appeal as a tool to manipulate men AND women (we stan a bisexual queen), to feel in control. I feel like if she started feeling someone catching feelings for her, she would flee (that’s probably what happened with Axe as many of us assume that he was in love with her and was her ex FWB because of his bitterness and her reluctance when talking about him). 

 ·        When it comes to her relationship with Din (sorry I’m a Dinbo shipper) I feel like when she met him he struck her as really different to the other guys she met : 

-first because she had been forced to reflect on her past and draw lessons from it while she was alone on Sundary for two years

-then because he wore a helmet : so she did not see his face and struggled to sexualize him which forced her to focus on who he is inside and really bond with him on an intimate level (here I speak of real emotional intimacy and not sex)

- because he, himself, did not consider her as a piece of meat (I picture Din as asexual or demi-sexual) and he quickly showed her he cared about her and not her title, showing true loyalty to her for the first time in forever (except from her relationship with Ursa Wren and Ahsoka, I assume she didn’t have very deep friendships, most of them probably being shallow)

-because of Grogu, Din is starting to shift from an avoidant attachment style to a secure one and is way less guarded than in the first season

-so I guess she is intriged by this new form of intimacy with him, the way she feels at ease with him and not feel like she need to be hypervigilant (the scene in the cave where they sit super close shows that). Both of them lost their parents quite young and I feel like it could be a shared experience they could bond over or already have unconsciously. 

When it comes to her relationship with Ahsoka : 

PLS WRITTERS I BEG OF YOU show me a real healthy female relationship without toxicity and where they support each other no matter what. 

[midnightcreator12]

Chula Verd Ref Sheets 2023

Read about where she's at in the Hunter and Turtles Series

More about her under the cut

Chula Verd is a hybrid between a Mandalorian Human and a Lasat. She weaves pieces of both cultures into her lifestyle but, since her mother died very shortly after she was born, she was raised by her Father and thus, leans more into her Mando heritage.

Sadly, the Mandalorian Clan War's end also brought the death of her Father. The pair had been with Death Watch for a time but Chula's Father did not agree with the plan Pre Vizsla was making. He had planned to sabotage the first attack on New Mandalore but Vizsla's followers learned of the plan and Vizsla ordered Chula's father be killed for treason.

Despite managing to escape, Chula's father was mortally wounded and died, leaving Chula orphaned and labeled a traitor to Death Watch at fifteen.

Chula traveled a lot over her next few years of life, her father had instilled a love of the star in her early on. She was angry and reckless but her Lasat heritage plus her fathers armor and training let her walk away from just about every fight unscathed.

In her Early twenties, she was in a cantina when a Jedi approached her. The Jedi, Astra Ader, had been tasked with recovering the local royalties daughter from kidnappers, since the ransom demanded for the princesses return was not at all feasible and her abduction had put a very delicate peace treaty in jeopardy. Astra said that she had planned to go alone but she heard a few whispers of a very skilled bounty hunter that happened to be in the area and since this mission was time sesative, she wished to hire Chula to track down the princess. Chula didn't much like the idea or getting mixed up with so political garbage but...the Jedi was offering a good sum and she was pretty and Chula was a little starved for some action.

The mission took only a few days, mostly because the kidnappers had moved the princess off planet, but Chula did her job. The Jedi was grateful and paid as she promised, Chula was surprised to find a little extra, and the two parted ways.

Chula assumed she'd never see Astra again but they kept meeting. The time between them meeting varied but, somehow, Astra kept approaching her in shady bars or crowded markets, with the promise of handsome pay for another job.

Eventually, Chula just gave Astra her communications code, saying that if she was going to be on the Jedi's payroll, might as well have a direct line. Astra seemed more than happy to call upon Chula's service anytime finding a person or persons was needed in her missions.

All the mission together drew the pair closer. Chula almost didn't notice how hard she was falling in love until years down the line. She never said a word, very aware that the Jedi frowned on their Knights courting people.

It didn't make it sting any less when the Clone Wars started and Astra's calls suddenly stopped.

Chula figured that she wouldn't see the Jedi again and, eventually, she'd move on. Except a few month into the War, Astra called, sobbing and begging Chula to help her becasue she didn't know what she was doing and she'd frozen and it had gotten her men killed. 'I lost so many, I killed them, I failed, please, I need help.'

Chula ran to Astra, because how could she say no? And helped the Jedi to be a proper general. It was at this time that Astra confessed that she had feeling for Chula. It wasn't an easy relationships, because Astra still held her duty to the Republic and Jedi over all else, but Chula would take it.

Chula became the honorary Commander of the 244th Battalion. She helped Astra with her tactics and working in active war zones, she started training the ARC troopers in Mandalorian fighting styles, she would spend days at a time on the star-ship, just bonding with Astra and the Clones. She planned to whisk them all away after the war (they were all to invested to even entertain the idea of a successful kidnapping during the war) because she knew that the Republic would not take care of them after the war ended.

But one mission threw all those plans out into the deepest voids of space

Chula is passionate, loyal, and adores children. She is very eager to help those she dubs friends and will not hesitate to crush her enemies. And despite the fact she doesn't like staying in one place for very long, she also doesn't do well when left alone for too long (depression, thoughts of suicide disguised as 'missions') And she wants to raise a little child of her own but, somehow, she keeps adopting teens and young adults.

[bojangos]

🖊️ + Taraan Kryze

TARAAN. satine's older brother and korkie's father in my brain for followers who don't know. also confession I saw the name used elsewhere spelled Taran and changed it a bit. i am afraid i do not recall the original user.

fun little headcanon. i think he and pre vizsla were close in age and went to school together. taraan tried to mentor his slightly younger cousin and guide him away from all the 'vizsla family feuds' (aka death watch). when taraan died suddenly (in canon) that sort of set pre back to ground zero. rip pre you were close to being okay.

since half of that is about pre here's another taraan tidbit; as of the righteous rn, even though he's Ten, he's technically Prince Regent of Kalevala, since dadaanai is Duke of Mandalore Proper (which i take to mean control over the System as a whole if not the sector).

[fellthemarvelous]

Please try to remember the Death Watch are terrorists.

"We are the Death Watch. Our people were warriors. Strong. Feared! Now they're ruled by the New Mandalorians who think that being a pacifist is a good thing. They've given away our honor and tradition for peace. Duchess Satine and her corrupt leadership are crushing our souls, destroying our identity. That is our struggle." -Pre Vizsla

Maul met the Death Watch and their shared hatred for Obi-Wan and Satine is what destroyed Mandalore.

Read Pre Vizsla's speech here closely. Like so close.

Satine Kryze is not to blame for the destruction of Mandalore.

The Death Watch ARE EXTREMISTS!!!!

They used violence and death to take down an unarmed woman.

Satine Kryze did not cause Mandalore's downfall.

Maul and the Death Watch did, and they did so with cruelty because they made Obi-Wan watch helplessly as Maul murdered her.

She chose to LIVE IN PEACE because it is the right of people to live in peace. She didn't illegally obtain power. The other Houses entrusted her with Mandalore's safety.

It was the terrorist minority that had a problem with her. Satine refused to bow to terrorists.

Because war is not natural. War is not fun. War is pain and loss and a man-made creation of mass destruction.

Satine was so strong in her convictions that entire star systems made her the leader of their council of neutral systems because she was able to give her citizens the access to the peaceful life they deserved. She refused to let Mandalore's legacy become one remembered only for its bloodshed and violence. She knew she would probably end up being killed for her beliefs, but she stood up to every single person who told her that picking a side was the only way to peace when she and Mandalore were already living proof that it was possible to do that without Republic interference.

She died refusing to give in to all the men who tried to scare her into joining their side, and when she died on the blade of the darksaber after it fell into the hands of the angriest being in the galaxy, she still died with love and conviction in her heart. Her final words were not "avenge me". Her final words were "I've loved you always. I always will."

The other Mandalorians were right to trust her, not because she used fear and power to intimidate but rather love and compassion to give Mandalore the tools it needed to thrive.

I saw someone try to say that she didn't do pacifism correctly and I just...

She carried a deactivator, not a blaster. She defended herself even though she chose to carry a weapon only meant to neutralize. Her guards existed to neutralize threats. Not kill them.

What does it say about a person who thinks Satine deserved her fate because she refused to arm herself instead of looking at the person who murdered her? What does it say about yourself if you think a person deserves to die because they refused to arm themselves with a lethal weapon in the first place?

Excuse me???

Not to get political, but Death Watch and MAGA are basically the same. Spoiled brats who believed they should have inherited the throne based on blood rather than qualifications, and really mad to know they are in the minority of people who don't want peace.

A bunch of men repeatedly trying to kill the woman who has proven time and time again that hope is stronger than fear.

She proved that it's possible to live peacefully if people would learn to just stop fucking killing each other, and she is not wrong for choosing to give that small bit of comfort to the others who survived the Mandalorian civil war.

The people chose her because they trusted her to take care of them. And she did. For almost 20 years. She cared about what the people wanted and she chose to give them exactly that for as long as she could.

She didn't make them forget their history. She reminded them that they don't have to live the same way for the rest of their lives. It's okay to put down the weapons and it's okay to want peace. That's not a weakness at all. It takes strength maintain a light like that for as long as she did.

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

Side note: Pre Vizsla bragging about the darksaber as war booty from the Fall of the Old Republic gets so much worse in retrospect with the reveal of the official timeline.

Tarre Vizsla forged the darksaber circa 1050 BBY. The Old Republic officially fell in 1032 BBY. This wasn’t a House long lost their way going back to a famous ancestor, this was Tarre Vizsla’s own close family, robbing the grave of a man most of them still remembered. They knew what that sword represented. They knew that it was Tarre’s symbol of his dual heritage and of the potential of Mandalorians and Jedi together. And not only did they violate the peace he forged, they stole the symbol of it and used it for their own selfish schemes.

And a thousand years later, Pre Vizsla waves it in a Jedi’s face, tells him about how many Jedi died on its blade, and speaks of its theft like it’s something to be proud of.

Frankly this is proof that any reputation of the darksaber being cursed or choosing “rightful” rulers is superstitious bullshit meant to feed a political cause that has long since abandoned what that sword actually represents. If the darksaber had any true agency in who wielded it, it would have blown up in the Vizslas’ faces the moment they grabbed it.

[juniperika]

Your soul is ill, but you will not find a cure (12598 words) by KindOfASorcerer Fandom: The Mandalorian (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV)/Bo-Katan Kryze Additional Tags: Adonai Kryze & Bo-Katan Kryze - Freeform, Bo-Katan Kryze & Satine Kryze - Freeform, Bo-Katan Kryze & Pre Vizsla - Freeform, Bo-Katan Kryze & Ahsoka Tano - Freeform, Bo-Katan Kryze/Koska Reeves - Freeform, Hanahaki Disease, Non-Fatal Hanahaki, romantic and platonic love, Time Skips, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, I'm trying to be canon compliant but canon is a mess, Blood, Injury, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, Zabrak!Armorer, The Armorer has a name, Implied Sexual Content, Marriage, Happy Ending

Summary: “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Your Highness.” “You said she has it,” Father hissed, his voice cutting through the confused silence. “How long before she suffocates?” The healer sounded genuinely baffled as she answered, “Your Highness, with all due respect, no one dies from a broken heart anymore.” “Her mother did,” Father gritted out. Bo withheld the urge to look up. They never discussed Mother. She didn’t even know what she’d looked like, never having seen a portrait, and everyone around her kept saying how much the little princess took after her father with her rust-coloured hair and freckled cheeks. Or, everything is the same, except whenever Bo-Katan refuses to acknowledge her feelings, she coughs up flowers. There might be a correlation.

This is the only thing I've written these past few months apart from spamming my WIP folder, see sob story in the endnotes

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Don't mind me. I'm just making sure the Americans know who they're supporting because it wasn’t clear enough.

[cienie-isengardu]

Jango Fett and Walon Vau: Age Difference and Childhood Trauma

Edit: other part(s): The Laws, Orders, Jaster Mereel and True Mandalorians (pre-Galidraan)

For @delkios

This won’t be a traditional analysis as sadly, there isn’t enough data about the relationship Jango and Walon had, especially since Republic Commando book series and game tie-in material did not provide any scene in which those two characters directly interacted (in contrast to Jango and Kal Skirata, who had a chapter in Triple Zero). Due to these limitations, the following work took the shape of investigation and case building more than anything else as I was forced to rely on information from third parties whose opinion was often subjective and knowledge incomplete, the circumstantial evidence and even the comparisons to present how alike Jango and Walon could be, as similarities often connect people.

The collected data is separated into categories focused on different aspects. Each category has its direct quotes or comic book frames from available source materials while some examples get an additional commentary and/or point of interest if the topic discussed may be expanded upon by secondary sources that do not directly concern the relationship between Fett and Vau, but which provide a broader picture of the issue.

AGE DIFFERENCE

A bit of established chronology based on Jango Fett: Open Seasons, Fact Files and Jedi Master Magazine:

BBY - Battle Before Yavin

22 BBY - Attack of the Clones / Battle of Geonosis - Jango’s death and start of Clone Wars

32 BBY - Dooku interrogate Jango’s former allies, the best known example: Silas (as stated by JF:OS issue#2 “ten years before Geonosis")

44 BBY - Battle of Galidraan[1] 

52 BBY - Battle of Korda VI / Jaster Mereel death (as stated by JF:OS issue#2, “twenty years ago” with date of Silas’s torture as starting point)

58 BBY - death of Jango Fett’s parents on Concord Dawn and the orphaned boy joining Jaster Mereel / True Mandalorians (as stated by JF:OS issue#1, “the events takes place 36 years before Attack of the Clones)

The comics and Fact Files did not provide data about year of Jango’s birth however Star Wars Jedi Master Magazine places it in 66 BBY:

[1] the date for Battle of Galidraan is actually not that clear, as comics issue#3 places it “twelve years before Geonosis” which would mean 34BBY and Jango being 32. However Fact Files vol.3 #14 states “Fett led the Mandalorians for eight years, during which the hunt for Vizsla was never far from their minds”. Similarly, the comics too imply that between Korda VI and Galidraan eight years has passed (Silas said “twenty years ago” for events of Korda, Galidraan was supposedly be “twelve years ago” however comics used Geonosis as reference point, instead of 32BBY - the date the “present” story takes place, as Dooku’s memory about Galidraan was told in that year. Otherwise there would be little time for Jango to gain a reputation as Bounty Hunter, as he said in the same comics (issue #4) “I rotted on spice transport for years.” - the plural form means at least two years, so he would be freshly out of slavery. The lore usually places Galidraan in 44BBY so I prioritize the eight years between Korda VI and Galidraan over comics flawed calculation.

The collected data allows us to establish that Jango was:

 8 years old during attack on his family on Concord Dawn

14 years old when Jaster died on Korda VI and Fett became leader of True Mandalorians

22 years old when his True Mandaloris were killed by Jedi on Galidraan and he was sold into slavery

34 years old when became DNA donor and father of Boba

44 years old when killed

There is a little well-documented chronology for Walon Vau. From the bits of information, we can established that 

Walon run away from his biological family at young age

“That strill had stood by him since boyhood” [Republic Commando: True Colors]

and

“Mird has been with me since I joined the Mandalorians” [Republic Commando: Triple Zero]

or

"Vau," he said carefully, "is still a fit man. A soldier since childhood, just like you and like Kal'buir. [Republic Commando: Triple Zero]

Of course, Vau joining Mandalorians does not necessarily mean joining right away True Mandalorians.

he was part of Jango’s True Mandalorians at least just before Galidraan

Vau didn’t meet Skirata’s eyes for a moment, but he glanced at Jusik. “I could have been at Galidraan, but I wasn’t, and I never forgot that. Not my fight. Should have been my fight.” [Republic Commando: Order 66]

So Vau knows Jango at least for 22 years (since 44BBY to 22BBY, the start of Clone Wars) however depending on interpretation, True Colors may implies, Walon could recall Jango’s undernourished appearance as a youngster:

Vau looked at Mereel in profile and tried to see Jango in him, but it was surprisingly hard. Odd as that might have sounded to an outsider, it was true: the clones usually didn't remind him of Jango Fett at all. Part of that was living among them for years, and becoming blind to the superficiality of appearance, but there were many ways in which they didn't even look like their progenitor. Jango - born of parents who lived hand-to-mouth, undernourished as a youngster - hadn't been much taller than Skirata, but the Kaminoans had managed the clones' nutrition carefully from the day the egg was fertilized, and they'd turned out tall and muscular. In a hundred and more ways, they weren't exact replicas of Fett.

From vocabulary.com:

Youngster is a good, generic way to talk about a person who's younger than you are, especially a child.

Jango in 44BBY was 22 years old, and Mandalorian for 14 years, so it is possible that due proper training he gained appropriate body weight and was better nourished - if Walon knew Jango only as an adult man, would he had so hard time to see Jango in clones he trained since they were two years old?

For a better picturing this matter, below a reaction of people who knew Jango only as an adult man and already met a clone troopers:

Attack of the Clones by R. A. Salvatore 

Jango Fett walked in, dressed in simple shirt and trousers. Obi-Wan recognized him immediately, though he was many years older than the oldest clone, his face scarred and pitted, and unshaven. His body had thickened with age, but he was still physically imposing, much like many of the old gutter dwellers Obi-Wan encountered in far-flung places. A few extra pounds, sure, but those covered muscles hardened by years of tough living. Tattoos crossed both of Jango's muscular forearms, of a strange design that Obi-Wan did not recognize.

The Cestus Deception by Steven Barnes:

If Obi-Wan was entirely honest with himself, he had to admit that large groups of clone troopers made him slightly uncomfortable. Easy to understand and explain away. One factor was the fact that they were the absolute image of the notorious bounty hunter Jango Fett, who had come within a hair of killing him on three separate occasions. More disturbing still was the fact that, although genetically human, they had not led human lives: clone troopers were born and bred purely for war, without the nurturance of a mother's embrace, or the safety of a father's loving discipline.

or

As he came out of his thoughts, again he had the sense that she was staring at him, and this time he felt uncomfortable. "Why do you look at me that way?" She shook her head. Then, as if she thought herself the biggest fool in the galaxy, she shook with peals of deep, rich laughter. "I suppose I keep expecting you to remember me. That's crazy, of course." She laughed again, and Nate just felt more confused. "You have to pardon me." "I don't understand." "I suppose I should have told you before. I knew Jango Fett." He didn't quite believe what he'd heard. Worse, he wasn't sure how to react. "You did?" She nodded. "Yes, twenty years ago, in quite another life. Seeing you was kind of a shock. When you took those helmets off-wow!" Her laugh was throaty and vibrant. "It's him, all right, and just about the age he was when we first met." Nate's head spun. "I should have expected that, I suppose. Certainly some of my brothers have also encountered people who had known him ... I've just never spoken to one."

As Walon said, living among clones for years made him blind to the superficiality of appearance, but I think it is safe to assume Vau knew Jango for longer than the established minimum of 22 years. 

There is no proper date of Walon’s birth, however the books either mentioned he is past his prime 

Boss stands his ground. "You can't carry it all on your own."     "I can carry enough." I can haul a fifty-kilo pack all right, maybe not as easily as young men like them, but I'm motivated and that shaves years off my age. [Republic Commando: True Colors]

or Walon is outright called an old man, both by himself or other characters:

"You're conspicuous in that black armor, Sarge," Scorch said kindly. "It's worse than having Omega alongside. What say you back out of here and leave me to hold them?"     If anyone was going to do any holding, it was Vau. "Humor an old man." He fumbled in his belt for an EMP grenade. "I stop the droids, you pick off the wets." Wets. Organics. He was talking like Omega now. "Then we all run for it. Deal?" [Republic Commando: True Colors]

or

"Walon, whatever we've said or done to each other before this moment, it doesn't matter. Cm vhetin. A fresh field of snow." Vau looked at him blankly for a moment. Maybe he knew how precariously Skirata balanced on the edge of his resources right then, but that craggy humorless face softened for a few telling seconds. "Cin vhetin." Vau grasped Skirata's arm in a vise-like grip. "Mhi vode an, ner vod." Vau seemed purged. He slapped his thigh plate, and Mird trotted after him into the galley. "Sorry about that, Bard'ika," Skirata said. It couldn't have been easy for the kid to hear all that bad blood about Jedi on this particular night. He might have turned his back on them and put on the beskar'gam, but they'd been his family, and some of those killed must have been his friends. Jedi were living beings, too; some might have got what was coming to them, but others were probably decent like Etain and Jusik. "We're tired old men, with tired old grudges."

or

Vau did his icy I-know-something-you-don't smile. "Sport-fishing isn't sport unless you run the risk of being caught yourself, is it?"     "There's always relaxing on the beach," said the Rek. "Or a pleasant walk around the harbor."     She seemed to have classed them as two old guys trying to rediscover their youth through destructive machismo, maybe with Mereel as the fit young minder who could haul them out of trouble. It was perfect: whoever Ko Sai had as a contact here-and she'd need one, if only to get hold of supplies- wouldn't be tipped off to the fact that Mandalorian bounty hunters were in town. [Republic Commando: True Colors]

or

"Someone has to pilot Aay'han, because those things won't have much range," Vau said. "And I'm volunteering. I had my midlife crisis about ten years ago, so you can go play boy racer this time, Kal..." [Republic Commando: True Colors]

Additionally Commentary:

The definition of a midlife crisis is a period of transition in life where someone struggles with their identity and self-confidence. It happens anywhere from 40 years old to 60 years old and affects men and women. A midlife crisis is not a disorder but is mainly psychological. It occurs when someone looks at where they are in life compared to where they think they should be by a certain age.  Who is affected by a midlife crisis?  Men and women can both experience a midlife crisis, but it may look different for each. On average, most people experience one between the ages of 40 and 60 years old, but you may have it before or after those ages, as well. [From acendahealth.org]

As True Colors takes place in the second year of Clone Wars - if Vau’s words were meant to be interpreted as fact - the midlife crisis would happen around second year on Kamino. Of course, Vau may be sarcastic here but he could also mistake depression for the psychological crisis as the book series often pointed out how time spent on Kamino was depressive for Mandalorian training instructors and Vau was no less affected by that. This actually can be supported by the same book:

Scorch is about twelve years old. He's also twenty-four, measured in how far along that path to death he actually is, which is the only definition I care about. He's running out of time faster than me. The Kaminoans designed the Republic's clone commandos to age fast, and when I think of them as the tiny kids I first knew, it's heartbreaking-yes, even for me. My father didn't quite kill the last bit of feeling in me.

Side note: if I calculate right, the clone commando training started in the second year (8 years before Geonosis, as around that time Kal Skirata showed up on Kamino and was soon to start training clone cadets. Logically, each batch should start their training at the same time, so the “midlife crisis” could easily happen when Vau started training too young children for Republic and Jedi as this challenged both morality and principles of Mandalorian culture.

Kal Skirata was said to be around 60 years old [RC: Order 66] and book series keep describing him and Walon as “old men”, so it is easy to assume the age difference between Jango and Walon was quite significant, most likely more than a decade. Depending when Walon joined True Mandalorians - before or after Jaster Mereel’s death - there is also a possibility he could help train Jango when Fett was still a cadet or at least knew him (if not just heard about him), as Jaster Mereel had a special spot for the kid:

Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #2:

Jaster Mereel: Make me proud, Jango. Jango Fett: Yes sir, Jaster. Montross: I think he sometimes forgets that you're not really his son. Hnh. That's dangerous. Clouds his judgment. And yours. [...]

Fact Files vol. 3 #14:

"Jango became a favorite of Jaster Mereel, something that didn't sit well with one of his men, Montross [...]"

Additional Commentary:  It makes sense to think that older and/or more experience Mandalorian Mercs helped to train the cadets however it is worth to keep in mind that Walon Vau was introduced into story as specialist of interrogation and True Mandalorians in fact trained their members to endure tortures [Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #2]. This information comes from Silas, who was part of True Mandalorian first under Jaster Mereel's and later Jango's leadership. It is hard to tell when and how interrogation became Walon’s expertise, but if he took part in training of cadets, his training may as well be pretty brutal to endure. On another hand, if Jango spent eight years keeping the hunt for Vizsla in mind all the time, Vau could be one of the people responsible for gathering information about Death Watch from captured enemy soldiers or other suspects. If he was that good as books implied he was, this could make him a valuable addition to Fett’s army.

CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

[Prime source] Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #1

Imperial Commando: 501st

Jusik didn't know what to expect; he just knew that she'd been hurt, physically and emotionally. Jango had told Vau just the barest detail about the Death Watch punishing his father for harboring Jaster Mereel, and his mother shooting one of them dead so Jango-eight, maybe-could get away. That was the last he saw of all of them, his mother shielding fourteen-year-old Arla, his father on his knees yelling at him to run. Jango thought they'd all died.

Additional Commentary: For a supposedly the barest detail, the short description accurately presents what happened in original source [“Death Watch punishing his father for harboring Jaster Mereel”; “his mother shooting one of them dead” “his mother shielding fourteen-year-old Arla”, “his father on his knees yelling at him to run”], so maybe it is not Vau who get the simplified version from Jango, but Jusik from Walon?

For better contrast, below a story Jango told Zam Wesell:

"Did you know I was an orphan? My family had a farm. There was a civil war. We got caught in the middle of it. I don't know what would have happened to me... if someone hadn't come along and saved me" [Source: Zam Wesell comics, 2002]

Additional Sources: Jusik and Kal Skirata were aware that Jango Fett had a sister in previous book (RC: Order 66), as this was their main motivation to abduct met by accident Arla Fett from the asylum:

"I thought I was a chancer," Skirata said "but Bard'ika, you make me look like a Neimoidian accountant. You know who that is, don't you? If she is who she thinks she is, anyway. Because she's supposed to be dead." "Oh, I know," Jusik said. In the last few years, he'd absorbed all he could about Mandalore and its people, both from Mando'ade themselves and from aruetiise who knew them all too well-like certain Jedi. "And that's why she deserves our help." "So who is it?" Vau asked plainly irritated. Mird watched the woman with head cocked tail slapping. "We'd better have a good reason for taking a psychotic killer with us tonight." "We have," said Jusik. "That's Arla Fett-Jango's missing sister."

In the same book, Fenn Shysa also seems to be aware about the fate of Jango’s biological family:

Shysa was making an awfully big assumption about Boba's willingness to take over where his dad left off. "Fett's got an older sister, you know. Arla." "No, Vizsla killed them all." "Not all." "Now you tell me. Are you having me on, Kal?" "No, ori'haat. I swear. Jango thought they all died, but the girl survived somehow [...].

It makes sense that Mandalorians, especially the survivors of True Mandalorians (and Jusik who learned from them) to some degree were familiar with their leader's past, however their knowledge doesn’t necessarily need to come from Jango himself. 

Additional sources outright say or strongly implies Jango wasn’t willing to confide in others about his childhood trauma.

Internal memo penned by Hali Ke, senior research geneticist, Kamino, 27 BBY (source) 

I have now logged many sessions with our prime clone Jango Fett, and concluded that he embodies his species’ contradictions. He is a killer many times over, ending the life of others without hesitation if paid to do so, yet his anger was obvious when I suggested he lacked morality. He is one of the most able, competent humans I have ever observed, remaining calm in situations that would leave most organics helpless with terror. Yet he witnessed horrors in his childhood that he will not discuss, and around which his mind has constructed apparently impenetrable barriers.

Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #2

Important thing to note: Jango only described the enemy as “ex Mandalorians who split with Jaster Mereel years ago” instead of personal information like killers of his biological family. It could be due to being under enemy fire, however the fact that Silas has no clue who Death Watch was in the first place, strongly suggests that Jango did not mention his childhood trauma in any specific detail to him, while comics presented Silas as deeply loyal to Jango, both as first person to stand by him against Montross’ claim to leadership

and as a man who endured for a whole year a torture because he refused betray Jango and who used his last breath to ask Dooku (the torturer) to not tell Jango about his failure.

As Imperial Commando: 501st states, “Jango had told Vau” about his childhood trauma and there is no reason to think Vau lied about this to Jusik. So far, within the broadly understood Republic Commando series, Walon is the only mentioned character to whom Jango voluntarily confided about things he normally did not speak.

(Unless, as pointed in my additional commentary for Age Difference, Vau did in fact trained Jango to endure torture and he managed to break Fett to get this information from him during "exercise" while he simply omitted that detail when sharing his knowledge about Jango's childhood with Jusik. Personally I like more the implication of trust given to Vau what fits well with his role in Kamino program, however I feel obligated to mention this possibility as another interpretation.)

However when it comes to Vau’s own biological family and his aristocratic title, Republic Commando: True Colors says Kal Skirata was most likely the only person he told about before Clone Wars. 

"What's in there, Sarge?" I'm not robbing for gain. I'm not a greedy man. I just want justice. See? My Mandalorian armor's black-black, the traditional color of justice. Beskar'gam colors almost always have meaning. Every Mando who sees me understands my mission in life right away.     "Part of my inheritance," I say. "Father and I didn't agree on my career plans."     Justice for me; justice for the clone troops, used up and thrown away like flimsi napkins. "The drinks are on you, then," says Boss, Delta's sergeant "If we'd known you were loaded, we'd have hit you up earlier." "Was loaded. Cut off without a tin cred." I've never told them about my family or my title. I think the only person I told was Kal, and then I got the full blast of his class-war rhetoric.

Additionally commentary: Once Walon and Kal joined their forces to provide clones a future outside the army, Vau started to mention his aristocratic family more often (sometimes simply to annoy Skirata). This of course does not cross out the possibility that Jango wasn't privy to this "secret", as Fett could easily learn that from other Mandalorians, like his mentor Jaster Mereel (if Walon already was one of his True Mandalorians while Jango was a young cadet himself), or even straight from Kal who was passionate about the topic enough to lecture Walon - something that was mentioned through the books on few different occasions and these two men knew each other for decades.

Republic Commando: Triple Zero

   "Yes, we all know." Vau turned to Etain. "This is normally where he starts lecturing me on his ghastly childhood as a starving war orphan living feral on some bomb site, and how I just ran away to become a mercenary because I was bored with my idle, rich family."     "Well, that saved me some time," Skirata said irritably. "What he said."

Thus it is up to debate, if Jango knew and if he knew then how he learned that and if he didn’t, why Walon did not mention it at all. There are potential possibilities like that Jango simply wasn’t interested in Vau’s past so he has never asked (the other, out-of-universe explaination is that the author did not had at that time outlined the plot-twist about Jango and Walon’s much closer relationship than Jango and Kal - the main character of book series since Triple Zero. This is the most likely the case, as Karen Traviss’ Legacy of the Force books that predate Order 66 pretty much ignore Jango & Walon relationship in favor of Jango and Kal mentions in Boba’s POV characters. But about that more later.) 

[Next part coming hopeful soon]

[erikacousland]

Pre Vizsla & Bo-Katan Kryze - Star Wars: The Clone Wars S5E14 Eminence

Pre Vizsla was Bo's uncle who raised her after her parents died.

It was my pet theory, and it's a secret canon that already been confirmed by Katee Sackhoff herself. (My eyes hurt when I saw a fanart that painting them as a couple.)

[inquisitor-apologist]

Ok, I know I joked about it yesterday, but here’s what I think are the viable ‘paths’ for ownership of the darksaber, accounting for the whole Maul Ownership Debate:

1. Regardless of Maul’s right to the Darksaber, if it can only be earned through official Mandalorian trial by combat: ownership passes from Pre Vizsla to Maul, and since Maul dies without engaging in another official duel, upon his death, ownership passes to whoever earns it in trial by combat. Sabine Wren defended her claim to the darksaber in official combat against Gar Saxon, so once Maul dies, it passes to her. Sabine Wren is the rightful owner of the darksaber.

1.2 However, if Sabine giving the darksaber to Bo-Katan is her surrendering her claim, then the darksaber is unclaimed until someone wins it in combat. Upon defeating Bo-Katan, it passes to Moff Gideon, and from him to Din Djarin. Din Djarin is the rightful owner of the darksaber.

2. If the darksaber can be claimed outside official Mandalorian combat, and Maul has a claim to the darksaber: Maul is defeated by Sidious, who is eventually defeated by Vader. Vader dies, but Luke very soundly beats him right before he dies. Luke Skywalker is the rightful owner of the darksaber.

3. If the darksaber can be claimed outside official Mandalorian combat, and Maul does not have a claim to the darksaber: Sabine becomes the owner upon defeating Saxon, and Bo-Katan becomes the owner when Sabine gives it to her. From Bo-Katan it passes to Gideon, then to Din, then briefly to eye-ball droid thingy before returning to Bo-Katan. Bo-Katan is the rightful owner of the darksaber.