A/N - This is the seventh story in a series of FanFics - I do recommend that you read the others first, as this one will contain spoilers and nods to the previous ones. However, it's not 100% necessary if you're determined not to - just know the backstory will be a tad confusing ;)

Disclaimer - I own nothing Star Wars, only the characters I've created and the storyline I've thrown them into. Everything else belongs to its respective creators.

The interior of the ship was all but silent, status lights glimmering gently on the control boards scattered around the cockpit. The quiet hiss of air could be heard as the ship's systems recycled air throughout the halls, along with the gentle swish of doors opening and closing on the new craft. The door to the cockpit opened a moment later, ushering in a green and gold armored Mandalorian.

Kadira Sal swept her helmet off of her head unceremoniously, tossing it onto the copilot's chair as she deposited herself into the pilot's seat of the Vanguard II. The only sounds were the quiet beeps of the new ship's consoles, a welcome sign of life that kept the place from feeling like a ghost ship. And kept her from feeling entirely alone out here.

The stars outside the viewport glimmered cold and distant as the ship drifted, and Kadira gazed out at them with a blank expression, grey eyes shadowed with thought and exhaustion. Bruises still stretched across her features from the last mission, and the skin on the palms of her hands had yet to recover from the pell-mell dash through the streets of whatever in haran the people of that force-forsaken world had named their city. She hurt, and her body showed the wear and tear of the past few weeks like a neon sign, hidden only when she donned her armour and the anonymity her helmet provided. But there was no one here for her to hide from, no need to keep acting like a leader and pushing others to keep going and fighting and spitting in the face of the odds just a little bit longer. No, it was just her, with the bruises and the cuts and the nightmares that dragged her from sleep sweat-soaked and shaking. Her muscles ached from nights spent training when sleep wouldn't come, and her mind turned the events of the past mission over and over again until it felt like she was watching reruns of the same old holo-vid. What with the last near-disaster of a mission, paired with the knowledge Mog was alive and breathing when he was supposed to be dead... Sleep felt a long way away most nights.

Kadira closed her eyes, leaning her head back on the seat as blue light flickered across her closed eyelids from the control panels of the ship. The Vanguard was entirely empty but for herself. After the last mission, she'd needed a hiatus from everything and everyone, and testing out the newest Vanguard's systems had been the perfect excuse for just such a break. Not to mention it allowed her to ignore the fact that after Jett had left her ship following the last mission he had simply… disappeared.

The former trooper had been the last off of the ship, and Kadira flinched in memory of the argument that had blossomed between the two of them once everyone else was no longer on board. Kadira had never seen Jett so angry, and her own calm fury had only seemed to incite him further. It had been fire and ice, hot fury versus cold rage. In the end Kadira still couldn't tell who had won. Neither of them, most likely. Jett had stormed off of the ship and simply vanished. No one had heard from him or seen him, despite the fact he was now a familiar face around Keldabe. Every contact she had in the city had reported no news of him, meaning he'd likely left right after departing the Vanguard.

Kadira knew full well the silence was intentional. Jett had been acting strangely for a good while now, and the disappearance was just the latest sign in a series that all was not well with the clone. Kadira had finally had to concede defeat, admitting that she couldn't help him if he wouldn't let her. And so for now she'd stopped looking. Allowing him the space and time to deal with whatever this was without her trying to track him down. She'd just have to trust that he would come back when he was ready to. Stars knew she couldn't force the stubborn chakaar to do anything he didn't want to. Bitterness rose up in her throat but Kadira forced it down with the ease of long practice.

Lately it seemed everyone was disappearing. A frown creased Kadira's forehead before she raised one hand to rub the expression away with a sigh. There had yet to be any word from Laniff, despite weeks of silence from the man. Iam and Kadira had stretched their network of contacts to the limit searching for signs of him, but he was either flying low under the radar or someone else was blocking them. Either way, she and Iam had gotten nowhere in the search for the pyrotechnician of the group, and so now were relegated to waiting for word from him.

Waiting. It was all shabla waiting, just sitting on the sidelines with bated breath. The signal to jump would come soon, on one side or another. It couldn't not.

"Osik," Kadira hissed, closing her eyes and leaning back in the pilot's chair. She was supposed to be here to ignore what was going on, not dwell on it further.

A sharp and incredibly annoying noise drew her from her thoughts, and Kadira opened her eyes to find the communications light flashing on the console before her. She winced as the sound echoed through the room once more, slapping the activation button to silence it before unfolding herself from her position to answer the call.

"Really going to have to change that," Kadira muttered, turning her attention to the image of Iam that swam into view before her. "Hey, buir. Any word?"

It was the same question as always, covering both Laniff and Jett in its scope. There was no need for specifics anymore.

::Nothing, ad'ika. Still listening though,:: Iam promised, earning a huff of breath from Kadira, followed by a quick nod.

"How did we get stuck with the two most stubborn chakaare in the shabla galaxy?" Kadira muttered, running one hand through her hair as Iam smiled. "You'd think we'd get at least one soul who was easy to work with."

::They can handle themselves,:: Iam assured her.

"Oh I know. But we all know how much Laniff likes explosions."

::And how little he pays attention to the blast radius,:: Iam added dryly.

"And now you see why I'm worried," Kadira replied.

::And Jett?::

"Jett almost got himself shot on the rescue mission," Kadira answered, the words sharper than she intended but brimming with frustration. "Repeatedly. If Black hadn't been there…"

Kadira shook her head, jaw tight with an emotion she couldn't quite name. Silence fell between them easily, formed by years of shared experiences and secrets. Iam knew her better than anyone, in many ways. He was more than her buir. He was the one person in the galaxy who knew everything about her, including the secrets that weighed more heavily on her every day.

"What the hell is happening to this team, buir?" Kadira asked finally, something akin to defeat coloring her words. "That mission wasn't easy, by any stretch, but…" Kadira shook her head. "It shouldn't have been enough to shatter him. And Laniff being quiet this long? I don't like it. Something isn't right."

Iam nodded in agreement, weathered features drawn. Kadira could see worry reflected in his gaze, and the knowledge he was just as concerned as he was did little to relieve her. She'd rather be overreacting to it all. But Iam's own concern served only to further rationalise her own.

::Not much we can do, Kad'ika,:: he said instead, well aware that the both of them had run through every back channel they had to try to find either of the men who had so efficiently disappeared. ::We keep scanning, keep our ears to the ground and hope we hear something soon.::

"If not, I'm going to the Dreysels," Kadira promised. Laniff's clan was already well aware of his extended absence, but thus far had chosen to wait as well. But Kadira knew they would rally as soon as the word was given. If the Dreysels were anything, it was loyal. Not to mention heavily armed.

Iam nodded in answer. ::They're already standing by to help if need be. For now they're letting us handle it, but the minute we need them, they'll be there.::

"Glad someone will be," Kadira muttered, her mind returning to Jett once more.

::Try to get some rest, Kad,:: Iam said, drawing her out of the dire direction her thoughts had taken. ::Something tells me life isn't going to stay quiet for long.::

Kadira huffed a laugh, tilting her head in acknowledgement of the point.

"When does it ever?" she agreed, offering him a tired smile. "K'oyacyi, buir."

Iam returned the wish and Kadira leaned forward, shutting off the comm once more before leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes.

Iam sighed as the holocall ended, running one scarred hand over weathered features. It had been a long few weeks, the stress of losing touch with Laniff made all the more difficult by Jett's disappearance. Kadira was right - something was shredding the team his daughter had so carefully constructed, and Iam was afraid the worst of it hadn't even begun. Events were starting to feel as if they were spiralling out of the control of the small team, bleeding into galactic conflicts that were far too large for any of them to want to get involved in. They were good at what they did, Iam had no doubt of that. But he knew Kadira well enough to know she had no interest in getting involved in a galaxy-spanning war. And neither did he. One such war was enough to last him a lifetime.

Both their interests were here. At home, with their people and the culture Kadira chosen to adopt as her own. She was fiercely loyal to te Mand'alor and Mandalore itself, but the Empire and its foes were all pieces in a game that Kadira had no interest in playing. She and Iam had no ties to either side, and both intended to keep it that way. Iam's choice had come after serving in the Clone Wars, training men who all shared the same face to fight and die for a Republic that treated them like droids.

Kadira's choice had been different, but no less firm. She had come up against both side of the brimming conflict in her line of work, had aided the Empire in some cases and stood against it in others. All for her vode. Everything else came second to that loyalty. But there were other forces behind the scenes, trying to rip her tiny team apart, keep her from accomplishing her goals of keeping her homeworld safe. And that put her and her entire crew in danger, a fact that often kept Iam up at night. He'd not raised her as a child, but she was no less his daughter for the fact he'd adopted her later in life.

He knew Kadira was stronger than she looked. She had a fire and a spark all her own, and a stubborn tenacity that carried her through many a disaster. But he also knew that she'd been placed up against things she'd never expected, never trained for. She'd worked alone or with her vode for years, training herself to be self sufficient. But fate had decided to turn her skills to something neither she nor Iam had ever planned for her. And while the chances and opportunities for success were massive, so were the stakes for failure.

Iam shook his head wryly, well aware of how this chain of logic always played out in the end.

All the pieces pointed one direction. Keep going. Keep fighting and pushing and sprinting until they could go no further. They were in this up to their necks now, for better or worse. To stop now would mean drowning. They would continue this battle to the end, even if it made no difference in the larger scheme of the galaxy. So many lives, so many battles and heroes and stories being told and woven together. Often threads became lost in the bigger picture.

But they had another thing in common. They didn't choose their paths in order to be remembered. Kadira and her team were not here to make a name for themselves as heroes, to stand out as conquerors or saviors. Kadira had said once that she had no desire to be remembered by many, no drive to make a name for herself amongst strangers. Instead she wanted to be known by her vode. Not for grand deeds or wars won. But for being there when they needed her. No matter the odds or how dire things looked. For showing up when no one else would. Fighting even without a chance of winning. For being one of the vode. One who would stand at the shoulder of her brothers and her sisters. Not a hero. Simply Mandalorian.

Iam sighed again and rose from his seat, snagging his helmet as he passed it. He could not alter his daughter's course now, nor would he wish to. But he could help in every way he could. Iam had no shortage of contacts, ranging from military, to civilians, to the less than savory classes of the galaxy. Laniff was still out there, somewhere. Whether his silence was intentional or a sign of something more sinister, Iam was determined to find the man. He was one of the vode. He was family, and he deserved to have his family at his side when he faced down the demons of his past. If only to keep those demons from devouring him in the process of being conquered.

It was time to get back to work.

Faint flashes of light banished the shadows from the small room before disappearing, darkness returning to claim its former domain each time the small beacon's indicator died. At the edge of the light's reach, Jayce sat curled up, knees hugged to his chest and arms curled around them as if to hold himself together. His eyes were open, staring at the floor as it was lit by the flashing light, only to fade into inky blackness once more. He could feel the grit beneath his eyelids, lack of sleep causing his lashes to dip each time the light came back on as relief washed through him for just a moment. But each time the light faded his eyes snapped wide again, his stomach jolting in fear. If the light stopped, if whatever signal he was sending halted...

He didn't know how long it had been since he'd activated the fire-armored man's helmet. Didn't know how long it would take the signal to get through to whoever was out there. In truth, Jayce didn't even know if he would have any idea whether or not someone had heard the beacon. They might not be able to reply to it. He might be left sitting in silence for days or weeks, just… hoping. Or believing that someone was coming when no one was.

Jayce glanced over his shoulder at Laniff's too-still form. The man was getting worse, that much Jayce was sure of. What Jayce could only guess were nightmares caused the man to thrash about in his sleep, shouting in a language Jayce didn't understand. At least, it sounded like a language to his untrained ears, but for all Jayce knew it was gibberish from a feverish mind, driven to the brink by pain and illness. They were running out of time, and Jayce's attempts at medicine and aid could only do so much. Especially in the face of injuries as severe as the armored man's. As it was, Jayce was struggling to keep both of them alive.

Jayce took a slow breath, the air tasting stale in his mouth even as he shuffled back against the wall. He hadn't dared to leave the hideout since activating the helmet, but for one trip to forage as much in the way of supplies as he could manage. Anything further meant leaving his fragile beacon and what could very well be Laniff's only lifeline. And that was not a risk Jayce could bring himsel fto take.

Laniff stirred in his sleep and Jayce's gaze snapped back to the man, hope burgeoning in his chest as it always did when Laniff showed even a hint of consciousness. Maybe the injured man would wake up. Tell Jayce what to do, how to get out of this mess. Jayce had little doubt he would first face the man's anger from Jayce's unintentional betrayal, but that seemed a much smaller problem right now than the looming question of 'What now?'. Jayce would be relieved to hand the responsibility over to someone else.

But the hope in his chest sputtered and died as Laniff settled back into silence, hands stilling against the ties that kept him from throwing himself off of the bed in his thrashing. Jayce had to swallow bitter disappointment yet again as he settled back against the wall. Laniff wasn't waking to take the weight of responsibility from Jayce's shoulders. That burden was still firmly with him, and he had pinned all his hopes on a damaged helmet and the friends of a dying man who might not even hear him. It was a longshot. But it was all he had left.

His eyes returned to the floor and the reflection of the beacon, tension drawing his shoulders tight and causing tears to prick at the corners of his eyes.

On…. Off. On…

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the reflection of the light on the floor. It could have been seconds, or hours. But when he did stir, it was with a determination rising up in his chest once more. He had survived on this planet his whole life on his own, or near enough to it. He was not going to give up. Not now. A beacon was only as good as its reach, and if that reach wasn't far enough, then Jayce was going to find a way to make it reach farther. He had to.

Jayce dragged himself forward, picking up the helmet and cradling it in his hands. He leaned his forehead against the battered dome, eyes closed as his forehead rested against cold metal.

"Please work…" he whispered.

Jayce took a slow breath and opened his eyes, turning the helmet over in his hands. Wires and tiny circuit boards were wired into the interior, and he moved carefully, fearful of dislodging any of his hard work. He reached for the tools he'd stolen, pulling them closer and settling in to work by the light of the still-flashing beacon.

It was as if the ship exploded into chaos, the sharp whine of an alarm snapping Kadira from an already restless sleep and sending her sprinting barefoot down the halls of the ship to the cockpit. Adrenaline surged through her, causing her to stumble slightly, her mind racing to catch up to her already moving body and causing her to lurch like a sailor long at sea suddenly placed on land. She didn't recall snagging her pistol from its place next to her bed, nor the small blade that now sat in her other hand, but both were there. Old habits trained into her years ago that served her well even now. Maybe not against the Vanguard's systems, but then again you never knew… Her motions steadied as her mind caught up to her body, allowing her to catch the edge of the cockpit's doorframe and swing around it without crashing into anything. Even so, she still wasn't fully awake even as she slapped the controls to silence the squeal of the alarms.

Definitely changing those.

She didn't need to wake up with a heart attack every time she received a distress call. Part of her wondered if Iam had intentionally set every noise in the ship to be as obnoxious as possible simply to annoy her. Though that seemed more like something Laniff would do, if she were being totally honest, but Iam had picked up enough habits from the younger Mandalorian that Kadira couldn't entirely discount the possibility. Either way, she was going to have to go through every shabla system on the new ship to keep it from driving her utterly insane.

Kadira swung herself into the pilot's seat of the ship, allowing her momentum to carry her around to face the control panel. She took a slow breath, trying to slow her racing pulse even as she drew her legs up under her and tucked her feet beneath her as she brought up the information on the distress call that the Vanguard II was picking up.

Grey eyes scanned the lines of information before her, taking in the remote planet - one that itched at the back of her mind with faint recognition. The signal itself was faint, barely being picked up even by the tech on board a ship as powerful as the Vanguard II. It was a miracle she was even receiving -

Her hand stilled as she saw the identifier and her tiredness vanished in an instant, replaced by a fresh rush of adrenaline.

She jerked forward, nearly falling out of her seat as she frantically typed in Iam's comm channel, making a note of the beacon's location even as she did so. Her other hand flew to a separate set of controls, locking on to the signal and sending a multitude of scans running, trying to strengthen the signal and extract as much data as she could.

She saw Iam's figure swim into view in the corner of her eye, the holograph bathing the cockpit in a ghostly light. She didn't wait for a greeting, her words sharp and urgent.

"Buir I've got him. I've got Laniff."

Kadira waited quietly, her hands clasped behind her back, feet set in a stance that was more military than smuggler. Not a surprise, given that she was addressing te Mand'alor, and the only person in the galaxy who could stop her from going on this mission if he so chose. Thankfully, it had never come to that with Shysa, nor did she think it would ever. That was never a fight she wanted to wage, nor a choice she would want to have to make. A choice between duty to Mand'alor and duty to her vode.

"You think this is important, Kad? Not a trap of some sort?" Shysa's lilting voice brought her back to the present and Kadira gave an immediate nod. The Mand'alor's image wavered slightly, the blue cast of the holograph lighting the inside of the ship with a ghostly light. But the man's gaze was direct as ever, and Kadira answered in kind.

"Definitely a trap, Mand'alor," she answered stoically, earning the slightest of smiles from the man. "But also important. If Laniff's sent a distress call with no other message and no details, then things can't be good. Something's gone wrong, and I need to find out what. And judging from the planet it's coming in from, what that ties into..."

Shysa was silent a moment, considering the information as Kadira waited quietly. There was so much unsaid, but both were aware of the deeper risks involved, as well as the threads tying together. Kadira didn't believe in coincidence even in the best of times, but this planet? There was simply no possibility. When Shysa finally spoke, the words were slow and measured.

"There's a lot more here than we know, aye," he acknowledged. "...You sure you can handle this, Kad? You look like osik. We can send someone else, scramble a team…"

But Kadira was shaking her head, a tired smile pulling at her features. She didn't even bother denying the exhaustion that dragged at her, or the injuries he could clearly see and those he could easily guess at. But this was her fight. Her vod. No way was she passing this off to someone else.

"No, Mand'alor. I can handle this. We can't do this the normal way, not if the planet is what it looks like. Which means we need the Vanguard, and someone who can read Laniff and predict where he might have holed up. It's going to have to be another unpredictable run. No one does that better than I do. I'll handle it because it needs to be me."

It was no a boast, but simply a calm statement of fact. Both of them were well aware of Kadira's strengths, and this was one of them.

"Think it's tied to anything in particular, lass?"

There was more to the question than the obvious, the deeper tones in Shysa's voice hinting at old secrets.

"I don't know," Kadira answered. "That's why I'm asking permission instead of rushing off to find him. If I thought there was no chance it was tied to… other things, then I would already be on my way," she answered candidly. "As it is, I want to go in dark. Whatever this is, I want to come in unannounced and wreak havoc without giving anyone time to respond or prep. Laniff was after his buir's killer, which means Death Watch. I want to keep my circle small, only people I trust implicitly. I don't want even the slightest risk that this might get out. If it does I could be facing an army, and I don't have the time or the firepower for something like that. Not now."

Shysa was silent a moment, eyes narrowed. Kadira stood quietly before the hologram, forcing herself to remain patient. This was not a simple decision and she knew it. Things were moving, pieces in an intricate game that had been played for far longer than anyone knew. And now figures were playing in the shadows, causing the game to shift and threatening to reveal more than just a few secrets.

Finally Shysa looked up and gave a sharp nod.

"Go get him. Do what you need to, but don't get yourself killed in the attempt. Find out what's going on, get Laniff out, and get back here. Preferably in one piece."

Kadira felt relief rush through her even as she gave Shysa a relieved nod.

"Ori'vor'e, Mand'alor."

"Oya, Sal."

And with that, the connection died.

Kadira let out a slow breath, leaning her weight against the holocommunicator, eyes closed for a moment. When she straightened, her grey eyes were calm, her stride purposeful as she headed to the armory of the Vanguard II. It was time to take stock, make a plan, and bring Laniff home. He'd waited long enough.

A/N - First and foremost, yet another apology for the long delays between updates for me. I do plan to try to lessen those by a large amount, but I am very grateful for the patience and overall awesomeness of those of you putting up with said delays.

That said, I fully plan to continue Kad's story, and I am ever grateful for reviews! They definitely make my day :)