Chapter 1:
Haa'it
Year 959 Post-Reformation
Andui, Planet Takodana
Sheila was once a proud Mandalorian, she was. She lived and breathed the Resol'nare. Honor was once her bedfellow and pride her constant companion. How she had relished the idea that one day she would raise her child in the ways of a Mando'ad! How she had thought it a grand, distant dream and then, one day, unexpectedly, it was a distant dream no longer.
The how, of course, was an academic matter, as one did not simply just get pregnant on their own. The who – that was, admittedly, a little bit more nebulous. Not that it particularly mattered, as she was a Haywood of Mandalore and nowhere in the Resol'nare did it state that having a partner was a requirement to be a parent. You are or you are not, there is no in between. In this, as all things, her people are a most practical people.
In the beginning, she had been so excited. She had been so proud.
And then the dreams came and with them, the horrifying, shameful knowledge that the child she is carrying is no true Mandalorian – he is a Jetii.
Or, possibly, something far worse: dar'jetii.
A vision swims behind her eyelids and her stomach churns, phantom contractions racing through her.
"Don't show me this," she murmurs. "Don't show me this."
But he, lost in his dreams, doesn't listen to her and she is suddenly standing in his boots once again, in a muddy wasteland on a planet she feels like she should recognize but does not for all the ruin it has endured. She has been here so many times now and it does not change. She simply pays more attention to the details, hoping to spot a clue that may explain what he shows her or why he is drawn to this repeating nightmare.
"Vod," says a chorus of identical voices, coming from men with the same face, the same helmet, spiraling off into the distance and filling it with their presence. They are of Mandalore, that much is obvious, but the how and why of them remains a terrifying mystery, even after months of this torment. That their shadowed faces are almost familiar is that much more alarming. If the light shifts just a little bit more, maybe she can see whose face they wear and, yet, the shadows stubbornly cling to them.
"Ner vod," he says, through her mouth, and there is a snapping hiss as he raises his hand, her hand, and the lightsaber shines bright, blinding and indistinct in color. "OYA!"
He leads them, he leads these Mandalorians into a battle, but the Jetiise are not generals, they are not warriors, not like this - not like this, she knows this.
And yet, this is what he shows her, again and again.
"Why do you do this?" she asks, desperately, and hates the silent, dreaming terror that grows within her all the more. This is not what she'd wanted when she'd thought of having children and, not for the first or last time, she curses Hod Ha'ran for her fickle fortune.
The vision pitches and shifts, a shadow falling from somewhere behind them. It races over everything, bathing them in frigid cold. Somewhere, someone screams as blaster fire erupts around them, and there is a great bellowing roar. In the distance, she can see a great building with five spires burning. The ground is covered in blood and bodies – Jetiise bodies.
"No!" tumbles forth from his lips, from her mouth, into her voice and she is awake, reeling on her feet as she tries to find purchase in reality.
Shaking, Sheila stands. "Who are you? What in haran will you become?" she asks him and clutches at the fluttering life within her belly.
I am a Jedi.
That isn't his voice. It's someone else's. She knows his voice from the dreams and this is not his.
And yet… it comes from him. It wraps around him, seeping into her through him, and she can hear the echoes of whispers coming with it.
Sheila clamps her hands over her ears and sinks down onto the floor. "K'uur! Damn it, stop!"
A sudden heavy rustling of cloth catches her attention and she jerks her head up, instinctively drawing her holdout blaster. In the shadows of the doorway, there is a tall figure in black, with armor that seems to absorb the light and a masked helmet that looks like a skull. In one hand, he holds the weapon of a Jetii, but the blade is a bloody red.
She blinks and he is gone.
"Copaani gaan?" asks the man standing in his place.
He steps into the light and she recognizes him – how could she not? He was once a True Mandalorian to the bone and loyal to the Resol'nare. He's changed – leaner, a sallow cast to his skin that speaks of recent illness, and the shadows of loss in his eyes – but, ah, to see him back in his beskar'gam once more! Truly, he is the favorite of fate!
"So, you're still alive, Fett," Sheila states, forcing a grin. "I thought they named you dar'manda."
Jango Fett rolls his shoulders in an easy, dismissive shrug. "They tried," he pauses, narrowing his eyes at her. "You don't look so good, Haywood."
Sheila draws back her lips, baring her teeth with a hiss. "I'm well enough to kick your shebs clear to Coruscant, you besom di'kut."
"Sure you will," he drawls, offering a hand. "Screaming and carrying on like that – the haran is going on? Your ad coming or something?"
Sheila gives him a waspish look as she takes his hand with her free one and uses it to pull herself to her feet.
Ner vod.
Abruptly, she yanks her hand away and takes a step back, eyes wide at the sudden words rippling through her. She looks down at her belly in horror and her whole body shakes with realization.
The child she carries calls him vod. Why would he? What connects them?
"What the – Haywood? Udesii!" Jango manages, bewildered. He looks at her like he might look at a spooked bantha, his eyes flicking to the holdout blaster she still has in her hand.
Sheila looks at it, too, her thoughts a scattered, desperate mess as she attempts to wrap her head around the potential implications of what she's heard. "What have you done?" she manages. She doesn't know who she's asking, really, not anymore, and it is so tempting to just shoot something or someone – anyone, really, and Jango's honestly looking more and more like an acceptable target.
He will take this child from her, Hod Ha'ran take the shabuir. She does not know how she knows this, but she does, and that alone is something worth shooting him over.
Jango takes advantage of her distraction and lunges for the blaster. They grapple for it – she gets in a good elbow to his face and he manages to break at least one of her fingers.
That is when her water breaks.
The two of them stare at each other, eyes wide.
Har'chaak, those hadn't been phantom contractions after all. "Truce?" she offers.
"Kark, no," Jango spits out, his lip busted from where she'd elbowed him. "I know you, Haywood. You'll shoot me."
"Probably," she agrees, "But I have another battle to fight."
The next words don't come easy, halting on her tongue. She is afraid, afraid of the child she carries and the future he dreams, afraid of what he might become. This is nothing like what she'd wanted and, yet, she cannot go any way but forward. What choice is there now?
But Jango seems to know what she intends to say. "I'll watch your back for you."
She nods, solemnly, and that's the end of the matter.
Their people have always been practical, after all.
Notes:
Crossposting from my A03.
This fic, part of the Jason is a Jedi AU, springs from me asking myself the question of "What happened to Jason's mom/is the Sheila bit still canon for this AU?" and I had this great and wild idea that Sheila was Mandalorian, since their relationship with the Jedi is pretty antagonistic. It also allowed me to work in a bit more weight for some stuff I've planned down the line with Rise (And Try Not to Fall) regarding her, Catherine Todd, Jason and Talia, as well as Jason's relationship with the clones of the GAR.
It also establishes that Jason's Force Visions have been going on since before he was born and that he'd unwittingly horrifically traumatized her because honestly you can't expect a fetus to know how to shield the Force in-utero and the Force is just literally throwing out warnings that Order 66 is coming. Not that anyone realizes that's what it's trying to tell them about, but you know...
And then Jango Fett decided to show up. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Why not, right? He's pretty much fresh off of getting his revenge against Tor Vizsla for Galidraan and still recovering from being poisoned around this time, if we're going by the Legends materials. TBH he was gonna be just a cameo for giggles and SUDDENLY.
Sheila also mentions Hod Ha'ran - an ancient Mandalorian trickster deity who represents the fickle nature of fortune.
Also, Jason shares his birthyear with someone important.
SO
Mando'a being used here:
oya - let's hunt; colloquially a call to arms/battle, hoo-rah
ad - child
copaani gaan - need a hand?
besom - ill-mannered, rude person
di'kut - idiot, jerk, moron, fool
Har'chaak - damn it
shabuir - son of a bitch
haran - hell
shebs - rear, ass, butt
vod - brother, sister, comrade
udesii - calm down/take it easy