A/N: This story takes place 13 years after KOTOR-2 and assumes light-side endings to both games with gender neutrality for both Revan and the Exile.
Full Summary: No longer content to live as an oddity among her clan, a young Mandalorian decides to explore the mysteries of the Force. When a tragic mistake results in her exile from the Jedi Order, Shukla Ven embarks on a journey of discovery that leads her into the heart of a looming civil war, guided by a Master determined to complete her training in defiance of the Jedi Council.
Beskar. The word itself was as light and hard as the metal that bore the name.
The perfectly balanced blade of beskar felt natural in her grasp. The strips of leather woven around the hilt kept it lodged firmly in her palm as she grasped it with an armored hand. She had heard it said that the only thing stronger than beskar was a Mandalorian's heart. It had also been said that the only thing tougher than a Mandalorian's armor was the warrior within.
Both statements would be tested in this challenge, she thought as she moved carefully and soundlessly forward into the darkened cave. Armed with the curved blade of her beskad, Shukla Ven crept closer to her prey, careful not to wake it from its slumber. The task of moving quietly was made much more difficult by her beskar'gam; the metal plates of her layered armor had not been designed with stealth in mind.
A sleepy animalistic grunt from the darkness ahead let her know that her prey was close by. Ven grinned with grim satisfaction when her visor adjusted to the darkness and the dim light from behind could be seen reflecting off the dark purple scales of the beast she hunted. Those scales, she noted in passing, were each the size of her own hands.
Easily the deadliest predator on the moon, the drexl was a creature to be respected. Their long lithe bodies were armored with thick reptilian scales and their leathery wings were powerful enough to keep them in flight during even the most powerful of storms. Their mouths could engulf a man whole and their teeth would tear flesh as easily as any blade.
They were brutal creatures, and on the entire moon of Dxun, this one was the dominant male. She estimated that its wingspan alone was nearly thirty meters.
The tactic of approaching by stealth seemed odd, since most any Mandalorian would rather have assaulted their prey directly, but others had tried that before with this very creature and had achieved little more than becoming an armor-plated meal. They had been foolish and their clan was thus strengthened by their absence.
Unlike them, Ven had entered the lair unnoticed and approached close enough to the creature that its entire body was visible. Its head faced away toward the back of the cave. The creature's body heaved with every breath, which was doubtlessly the source of the foul stench of decayed flesh that assaulted her sinuses. The drexl's great wings were folded at its sides while it lied curled in a heap that occupied the entire width of the cave, which barely seemed capable of housing such a beast.
She found her target: a section of the creature's body just beneath the base of its massive head. Not only was it where she expected her beskad could do the most damage, but in the ensuing struggle it would be the only place she could hang on to the creature by its bony protrusions and take refuge between its massive wings to protect herself from being crushed into the rock walls of the cave, since not even beskar'gam could protect her from being ground to a bloody pulp elsewhere. The greatest difficulty, of course, would be managing to not be thrown from the beast before it fell.
Time was against her, and if Ven hesitated to act quickly the sleeping beast would be aroused by her scent. The time for action was upon her and she clenched the beskad, crouched silently, and then leapt.
Mandalorian iron penetrated the thick reptilian scale with more ease than expected; the beskad slipped deep into its flesh and the curve of the blade anchored it well enough to be a firm handle. What began as a shriek of pain from the great beast quickly changed to a bellowing roar of rage while Ven fumbled to take hold of one of the drexl's horns with her free hand.
The creature bucked instinctively in an effort to throw her off or crush her against the rock, but one booted foot managed to lodge itself under a scale and gave her the means to stay flat against its back. She gave up all hope of grasping a horn and instead placed all her trust into grasping the hilt of her beskad in her left hand with as much strength as she could muster. With her free hand, she loosed the ascension-gun from her leg that she had used to scale the sheer cliff to reach the monster's lair. She placed the folded hook under a scale and fired the gun, which drove the hook deep into the beast's flesh. She dropped the gun and wound her armored right arm into the cable.
Firmly anchored to the creature, she could then see that her placement of the blade had been perfect: driven into the back of the creature's throat. The raging drexl's hot black blood escaped the mortal wound, slicked its scales, and coated her armor. It slammed against the cave wall twice, which caused her hand to slip from the beskad, but the cable that secured her arm to the beast held fast and allowed her to recover her hold on the blade's hilt. The drexl turned around quickly and tried to scrape her off with the rock, but the bony structure of its wings shielded her from being crushed while hardened Mandalorian armor protected her flesh.
Confident that she could outlast her prey, Ven allowed herself to smile and enjoy the thrill of the moment. That sense of assured victory fled quickly, however, when the creature did the unexpected; it lunged for the cave's opening, spread its wings, and then took flight. It let loose a roar of both agony and challenge while it soared into the sky.
The reality of her situation was immediately apparent. Ven was riding the drexl, high in the skies of Dxun with the jungle-covered ground now far below. She found the strength to tighten her grip on the beskad and she trembled with the thrilling mix of exhilaration and terror.
The nearby world of Onderon was visible on the horizon when the creature began to dive toward the jungle and the humid air whistled loudly against her armor while they flew at an alarming speed. Verdant swaths of trees dimpled by small bodies of water stretched out in all directions below, and ahead of them the jungle ended abruptly at the ocean's edge.
"I've got it," an electronic voice chimed in her helmet. Before Ven could bark a warning that she was attached to the creature, a supercharged particle beam split the air directly in front of the drexl, which caused it to pull up and slow to a near stop in a single beat of its monstrous wings.
Before it could change direction, Ven seized the opportunity and put all her strength into twisting the beskad. The drexl's bellow of agony sounded hollow; its terrible voice was muted and its strength waned as it began to choke on its own blood. It thrashed violently in the air, which finally succeeded in dislodging her grip on the beskad.
The monster's pained hesitation was its undoing. Another blast of energy from the ground was aimed perfectly; it left a smoking hole in the top of the drexl's scaled head that killed it instantly. Ven thought quickly and released the ascension-gun's cable, then pushed herself off the beast's gliding body into freefall.
The ground rushed up to meet her, but at the press of a button on her wrist, a plume of fire erupted from the small pack on her back that slowed the last handful of meters of her descent enough to alight on the jungle floor with enough grace that she only needed to drop to one knee to keep her balance. With the rocket pack silenced, Ven started to stand.
Something in her mind registered danger and she dove forward and rolled away just before the drexl's massive corpse, no longer held aloft by its rigid wings, made a thunderous impact with the ground.
Ven collected herself and stood, then turned to look at the carcass. Even devoid of life it looked fearsome, but the surge of triumph she felt welling up inside her would not be diminished in the least. She lifted a wing to remove the beskad from the drexl's flesh and then knelt to wipe away as much of the black blood as possible with a large leaf from a crushed tree before she sheathed it on her thigh.
A few moments later, the snapping and crunching of brush under armored feet announced the arrival of her partner. His large stature and dark armor made for an imposing presence against the backdrop of the jungle. He paused for a moment to consider their kill before his attention turned to Ven.
"Not bad, kid."
It was the closest thing she would ever get to a compliment from him. She removed her helmet to reveal a proud grin, but despite being free from its confines, her short brown hair was slicked with sweat and stuck to her head. "That was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced," she said gleefully.
The man grunted. "Zakrad's hunting party has been trying to flush this drexl from its den for weeks. They won't be happy about it, but they'll certainly respect our victory."
Ven rolled her dark eyes and faked a frown. "He'll find a way to diminish my role since I was hunting with you."
"Hah," the other said contemptuously. "I'll be sure to remind him that his entire squad got beaten to the kill by an old man and a girl. I have to admit, though—that bit of riding the drexl was unexpected."
"I wasn't exactly given a choice."
"So, that little toy of yours finally came in handy," he added to poke fun at the small rocket pack integrated into her beskar'gam.
"Is that a touch of jealousy I hear in your voice, Mandalore?" she teased. "I'm surprised you haven't tried one yourself."
"I have in my mind, but that's the only part of me still young enough to enjoy it," he pointed out, then gestured toward the corpse. "I'll keep watch here and keep the scavengers away. Go get the cargo sled and a few extra hands to haul this back to the bunker."
Mandalore watched as Ven left and allowed himself a prideful smile. Her blood-covered beskar'gam and triumphant posture would be unmistakable when Zakrad and his squad saw her.
He turned his head to listen to the silence that had been following them through the jungle for the last several hours. There hadn't been any indication that they were being followed—not so much as a snapped twig—but there was always an uneasy, unnatural quiet that had pursued them ever since their departure from the bunker early that morning.
"What did you think?" he asked the silent watcher.
Something like a veil in his awareness was pulled away and a fair familiar face emerged from the jungle. "You were right," she said softly as she approached his side and stared to where Ven had disappeared through the brush. "She is drawing upon the Force whether she realizes it or not."
Mandalore took in her face and found it somewhat less fair than he remembered, and her long brown hair was just starting to show a few strands of gray. "I've never hidden the truth of what she is from her," he said pointedly, "only who she is."
Bastila's eyes were hard when she faced him. "She knows what she is, and yet you still lead her into battle and make death a common part of her life?"
He wished that she could see the scowl on his face through his armor. "Whatever else she is, she is a Mandalorian first," he insisted, then gestured toward the fallen drexl. "The convergence is only two cycles away. That beast would have crossed the atmospheric bridge to Onderon and killed hundreds before their beast riders could slay it."
"And instead you teach her to hunt and kill it for something it might do," Bastila countered. "Did you also forget to explain that this great beast kept the others of its species in line? That next season there won't be just one, but three beasts competing for dominance in the vacuum of power, each also capable of killing hundreds?"
"Then we'll have three times the glory next season," Mandalore harrumphed. "I only mentioned the deaths of hundreds to appeal to those Jedi sensibilities of yours."
Bastila's face softened. "I'm sorry that my sensibilities aren't as simple as they once were."
Mandalore snorted in amusement. "That's not a bad thing." He looked again toward where Ven had disappeared into the jungle. "Ven's a good kid," he noted, "but she's mastered every challenge this moon has to offer. What little she lacks in physical strength, she makes up for in tenacity – as all my warriors do. But there's something more to her, and others are starting to take notice." He looked to Bastila once again. "She can't stay hidden among our people much longer."
Bastila nodded her understanding. "I had hoped she would adopt your people as easily as you adopted her."
"She has," he said confidently. "Ven is as much a Mandalorian as I am, but she knows there's something different about her." His voice lowered. "She remembers her mother."
Bastila was slow to respond. "She does?" she asked rhetorically.
"She remembers a few lessons about the Force," he added, "and practices when she thinks I'm not aware."
"She hides this from you?"
Mandalore shifted. "Ven knows our history. She probably worries that I might disapprove."
"And do you?" she asked directly.
Mandalore shook his head. "Never. Not with her. If anyone will disapprove, it will be your Council."
Bastila blinked in uncertainty. "The Council… Oh." She grasped one arm with the other and appeared to consider carefully. "You don't know what you ask."
"Did you think I asked you here just to relocate her? If protection were all Ven needed, then there's no safer place in the galaxy for her than with our clan."
"Of course," Bastila conceded. "To ask that she be trained, though… That is something of a surprise."
"She'll ask for it herself when she finds the words."
"Most of the Council doesn't even know she exists," Bastila reminded him. "And those that do will be very difficult to sway."