A New Threat:
D3/1 BBY, Mandalore
Captain Hark and his fellow Super Commandoes were feeling rather like the rotten yogans in the bushel of fruit. Almost every single Mando in the camp was giving them dirty looks and avoiding them like they carried the plague. A few had even gone so far as to spit at their feet, one of the worst insults you could deal a fellow Mando.
After ten minutes of this, Jett came to the conclusion that it was time for drastic measures. He needed a paint gun and he needed one now. All this Imperial white needed to go. And getting rid of the Imperial symbols on their bodysuits wouldn't hurt either. White was a rare colour on Mandalorian armour for a reason that went back millennia; it was too shabla easy to see.
And right now, he and his men felt like walking targets.
He'd like to just fly home to the Saxon Stronghold, but Jett was now stuck in a strange limbo position. He'd declared loyalty to the new Mand'alor, but aside from him and his men, there were no other Saxons here. Which meant the clan was not allied with her. At least not yet. He fully intended to change that.
With Tiber Saxon now assuredly deceased, the rightful heir of the Countship fell back to Gar Saxon's son, Drago, but the boy was only ten years old; much too young to lead. The next two in line had been cousins, but they'd both been killed yesterday by the Wrens before the Duchess had done its vile work. The power vacuum at the Saxon stronghold would cause a great deal of chaos as soon as people found out, which he assumed would be very shortly. Bad news had a way of travelling in the speediest of fashions despite all the odds against it.
Jett had every intention of filling that power vacuum and taking over as Count of Clan Saxon. But it was best if he bid his time, letting the other power seekers fight each other first, wearing themselves out. With the right timing, he should be able to walk right in, challenge whoever was left standing, and take command.
So that meant he was going to stay here for a day or so and make nice with the other clans. But they weren't going trust him as long as he looked like an Imperial.
With his men trailing behind him, Jett made his way back to Mand'alor Kryze's vicinity, wishing he'd never left it in the first place. At least when they were near her, people left them alone.
She was currently talking to Fenn Rau and Alrich Wren of all people. Just his luck. The leader of the Protectors was bound to have a hate on for him for what he'd done under orders to the Protectors, and he'd been taunting Wren about seeing Sundari for the last time just yesterday while on their way to the man's scheduled public execution. Karma was really coming around to bite him on the shebs now, wasn't it?
Telling himself to suck it up, he approached the group and interrupted their conversation when there was a hint of a pause in it. "Pardon me, my Lady, but I was wondering if you happened to have a supply of black and red paint lying around somewhere?"
All three of them turned their focus on him and his men, a light of understanding dawning in their eyes as they took in the white armour and Imperial symbols, and the nasty looks being cast at their group from anyone how happened to glance their way.
"I'm afraid I do not," Kryze said in apology.
Rau crossed his arms over his chest and just looked smug, the bastard. He was enjoying this. "Serves you right for following Saxon and what you did to my men."
"I only followed the orders of my Count and Governor like a good Mando," Jett replied, crossing his arms in return. "It was nothing personal."
Rau raised a brow in blatant disbelief for a moment. "So Bo-Katan was telling me. I find that hard to believe, but I will accept that for now. It's the only reason I'm not calling you out as we speak. But if you ever give me any reason to doubt your loyalty to our new Mand'alor, I will kill you."
Jett smirked under his helmet. He'd like to see the older man try. But for the sake of keeping the peace, all he said was, "Understood."
"My daughter may have some paint," Wren said, adding his voice to the conversation. "But I doubt it's black. She's generally inclined towards brighter colours." His mouth was twitching with amusement at what he undoubtedly felt was well deserved payback.
Both Rau and Kryze snorted softly at what was definitely an understatement as Jett thought about the new Countess Wren's armour and purple paint bomb she'd hit Wren's transport with. Bright colours indeed. "We'll take what we can get," Jett said in a resigned tone, his men shifting on their feet in dismay, but too well disciplined to say anything. "I'll ask her," he said as he saw the young woman in question appear at the top of the ramp of the Wren coloured Kom'rk.
Jett felt a great deal of admiration and a definite attraction for the vibrant female. He'd had more than a few encounters with her so far, almost all of which included him getting hurt in some fashion.
The first time he'd met her, if you could call it that, had been more than half a year ago when he'd chased her and the young Jedi all over Concord Dawn's moon. He'd been shot out of the sky by a blaster bolt returned right to him from the Jedi's lightsabre and crashed to the ground of the canyon in a spectacular fashion. He'd come out of that one with a dislocated shoulder and bruises. Sucking up the pain, he caught up in time to see her hold her own against Gar Saxon in a no holds barred fight, which was no easy feat. Gar Saxon was a brutal fighter and had no qualms about fighting dirty, as he knew firsthand.
Encounter number two occurred on Krownest in the Wren Stronghold. Instead of capturing the two Jedi, he and his men had been defeated by the Wrens, and Gar Saxon once again went up against Sabine Wren. From his kneeling position in the great room, with a blaster pointed at his head and his arm burning like a sonofahutt from where the older Jedi had redirected his own shot back at him (really got to stop aiming at the Jedi), he'd seen glimpses of their fight over the frozen lake. She had been spectacular, defeating Gar Saxon at his own game with the legendary Darksabre and a green one that belonged to the younger Jedi. For some reason that he didn't understand, she had let Saxon live. But her mother had ended his leader's life when Gar Saxon moved to shoot Sabine in the back. (A very dishonourable act that he deserved to die for.)
Encounter number three had been in Sundari. She and her brother had come to the city to seek out information on the whereabouts of her father, who was being held in the Saxon Stronghold at the time. Despite being very young, Tristan Wren had been one of his best Commandoes and was well on his way to earning the rank of second in command. Jett had also considered him to be a good friend. To see him once again wearing Wren colours had felt like a slap in the face and also inspired a twinge of jealousy that Tristan got to look like a Mando again as opposed to a glorified stormtrooper. Before they could get in trouble with any other Imperials, he'd called for backup and then chased them out of the city. He'd ordered his men to fire warning shots only, not quite able to bring himself to shoot at Tristan or his very hot older sister for real.
Encounter number four was just yesterday, when he'd been in command of the convoy transporting her father to Sundari. He'd seen her slender outline flying around through the purple paint as reports came in over his HUD from troopers and commandoes alike that they had been taken out of the game and that there were at least three Mandos and two Jedi attacking the convoy. The report had been verified when a green lightsabre had thrust its way up through the consol, barely missing killing the driver. He'd gone to look under the transport, but had seen nothing. Not even a minute later, he'd been kicked out of the speeding transport by the young Jedi, hitting the ground hard and dislocating the same shoulder again since it was now prone to it. At this rate, he'd end up with a mechanical right arm before he was thirty, since over the course of his lifetime, he'd dislocated it about a dozen times, broken it twice, and been shot in the elbow. He was sure the med droids were making bets against the survival of his arm.
And lastly, he'd seen her early this morning as Taber Saxon tortured her with her own weapon design. (And him too, the shabuir. He never did like him much.) To turn it around on him in only a minute of fiddling had been bloody brilliant and then to lock him to it as the machine went haywire... He didn't think he'd ever find a more suitable warrior female that would compliment him better.
Jett wanted her for himself.
There was just one problem. And he was currently walking down the ramp with his fingers interlaced with hers. Jett scowled at the sight of the young Jedi poaching on his prize. What was she doing letting a Jedi scum touch her? It was bad enough she worked with one, but understandable since the Jedi were formidable warriors and got things done.
She looked amazingly beautiful at the moment. Her eyes sparkled. Her cheeks had a rosy tint to them. Her lips were redder and plumper than he remembered and curved sweetly in a joyful smile. She was entirely focused on the Jedi as they strolled down the ramp, their eyes never leaving the other's. Jett wanted to be the one to make her look that happy. He had so much more to offer than the Jedi. All he had to do was make her see it.
"You go get Kanan," she was saying. "And I'll talk to Bo-Katan about having a meeting about my grand plan."
"Sure," the Jedi said eagerly. He kissed her cheek and was turning to leave, but Sabine hadn't let go of his fingers yet. He turned back with a raised brow when his arm stretched out. "Was there something else?"
Sabine grinned at him. "I just wanted to tell you that you've accomplished what no other person has ever done."
"And what's that?" the boy said curiously. And he was a boy. He was clearly younger than her, not even filled out yet into full manhood. What did she see in him?
She flicked her eyes towards the interior of the ship. "You made me forget my helmet for an entire minute," she said in a tone of mock horror and disbelief.
His eyes widened comically. "No!" He raised his free hand to his heart as if to still it. "I'll have to tell the galaxy's news stations that I, Ezra Bridger, have made Countess Sabine Wren forget her helmet for the first time in her life. It will be the juiciest piece of gossip ever heard, cause everyone knows that the famous artist warrior is never more than a metre from her helmet at any given time." He lowered his voice down to a conspiratorial tone. "It's even said she takes it to the refresher with her."
Sabine was giggling as she swatted him playfully on the shoulder. "Stop, you goofball, and get going before you start weird rumours about me." She grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him around, and pushed him towards the red and black Kom'rk that he'd overheard a few people gossiping about. It seemed the ship used to belong to Maul and was now owned by the Jedi boy. Between that and Sabine having possession of the Darksabre until she GAVE it to Bo-Katan has made everyone both wary and semi respectful of the pair of young people. If they could defeat Maul, then they must be formidable indeed.
The Jedi turned back around so he was walking backwards, grinning widely. "But you like my goofy side, Sabine. And besides, even if people start gossiping about you, I know you'll kick them back into submission and have fun doing it, so it's all good."
She shook her white and purple head at him as she started walking back up the ramp. "You know me too well, Ezra Bridger."
He stopped when his foot bumped into the ramp of his ship. "Ditto, Sabine Wren," he called across the distance. They exchanged a look for a long drawn out moment before he turned and leapt up the whole ramp in one effortless bound, making Jett blink in surprise.
Sabine sighed softly and then disappeared back inside her ship.
Jett glanced at her father and found him smiling indulgently, apparently perfectly fine with his daughter's choice in boyfriend. Rau was also smiling like a pleased parent. And Kryze had an amused slant to her lips as she shook her head.
"I did not think that choosing a Jedi was the wisest thing Sabine could have done, especially now that she is going to be under the scrutiny of so many," Kryze said to Wren when he focused on her. "But they are clearly bonded already and he has proven himself to be honourable and a useful ally. She will have my support."
"Thank you, Mand'alor," Wren said with a bow of his head. "I appreciate that very much."
"Please, Alrich," Kryze said with a roll of the eyes. "We've known each other for decades. Stick with Bo-Katan."
"As you wish," he said with a smile.
"I'm going to go ask Countess Wren about paint," Jett interjected, and then took off before anyone could object, giving his men a subtle hand signal to stay put.
He was seething that everyone important seemed to be perfectly fine with Sabine choosing a Jedi. So what if they were friends? That didn't mean she couldn't choose someone else as a husband. Jett was determined to at least try and change her mind. And failing that, maybe he could scare the Jedi off. Then she'd have to choose someone else. A true Mandalorian warrior like her deserved so much better than a Jedi scumbag BOY.
He strode up the ramp with determined strides, catching her returning to the cargo bay with her helmet tucked under her arm.
Sabine was feeling very light and carefree at the moment thanks to Ezra. Possibly a little giddy even, and she was not one to be 'giddy'. Stars, she'd missed him these last few months. She'd missed the easy camaraderie of her entire Ghost family, in fact. Which was why she was liking her newest idea for Lothal more and more.
Krownest just didn't feel like home anymore. Not even when her mother and brother were there with her. And now that they were gone? Sabine just couldn't see herself making the winter planet her long-term home whether she was the Countess Wren or not.
With any luck, Bo-Katan, Fenn, and her father would also be agreeable to her idea. It would work out to everyone's benefit in the long run, she was pretty sure.
Mentally crossing her fingers for the coming meeting, she bent down and grabbed her helmet off the floor, sighing over the new scuff mark in the paint from her mistreatment of it. Good thing she'd brought her paints with her so she could fix it. But then again, she always had her paints with her, in one form or another. If the opportunity to paint her phoenix symbol on something Imperial presented itself, she just couldn't stop herself from doing so.
Turning back around, she gave her helmet a thorough inspection as she walked, finding a few more little scuffs that needed attention from the day's activities. And if she looked closely enough, the entire paint job actually looked a little bit frazzled and blurred, courtesy of the Duchess. Frowning, she glared down at her chest plate and found the same problem. Grrrr. Now she'd have to repaint the entire set as soon as she had some time. It would bug her to no end if she didn't.
The good news was that she had been thinking about changing up her armour again soon anyway. Maybe to something that more reflected her new attachment to Ezra. Something with a lot more blue in it.
Walking into the cargo hold, she paused in surprise to see someone else coming in from the ramp side. "Can I help you with something, Captain?" she asked the Super Commando that she'd encountered a few too many times in the past for her liking, but she was giving him the benefit of the doubt in regards to his new loyalties until he did something to prove otherwise. Tristan had said he wasn't as bad as he could be, too, considering the viper pit he originated from.
He pulled off his helmet, revealing his face to her for the first time. He was younger than she was expecting; mid twenties maybe. His features were pleasantly put together in a rugged way. His head was covered in short black hair that was very similar to Ezra's current cut, but didn't shine blue under the lights, making it a true black. His eyes reminded her of Imperial grey hallways and the smile on his mouth didn't reach them.
Sabine still didn't like him.
"Your father said you would be my best bet to find some paint for my armour and that of my men's," he said genially. Glancing down at his almost entirely white armour with a hint of red ruefully, he added, "We're not feeling very welcome at the moment."
"I don't know why," Sabine said, trying to rein in the sarcasm but failing miserably. "You were fighting for the wrong team just yesterday."
He shrugged apologetically. "Just following the Head of my Clan. But they're all deceased now and there is no one left to follow." He puffed his chest out self importantly. "I'm going to fight for the title of Count Saxon when I get home. Then the whole clan will follow the Mand'alor."
Sabine was getting the impression that she was supposed to be impressed by this. She wasn't. She smiled indulgently anyway to help this move along a little faster. "Good luck with that. As far as painting your armour goes, I don't have enough to cover all that white on nine sets in anything resembling a matching fashion, so I won't even try. As far as the Imperial symbols go, have you thought about simply taking off your armour and bodysuit, since the symbols are on the upper arms of the bodysuit? There must be nine spare shirts or tunics lying around here somewhere. Go find them. Or kriff, borrow a cape and go buy some new bodysuits from the city and a bucket of paint in the colour of your choosing. It's not rocket science."
He blinked at her stupidly for a few seconds, frowned, and then visibly forced himself to smile. "That is a very good idea. I feel stupid for not thinking of it myself. Thank you for your time." Sabine's opinion of him rose half a fraction because he managed to be gracious about it.
"You're welcome," she said as she passed him and walked down the ramp with the ex Imperial traitor following her.
Ezra was waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp, watching them curiously. "What did he want?" he asked quietly as they watched him walk back to his men and Bo-Katan only a dozen metres away.
"He wanted me to paint all of their armour," she murmured, rolling her eyes slightly. "I also got the feeling he was trying to impress me."
Ezra glanced at her. "Another of the multitudes of men you've had to turn down?" he teased in a whisper, his beautiful blue eyes smiling at her.
Sabine rolled her eyes harder, shoving him with her shoulder. "Something like that. Anyway, keep an eye out for him. Something tells me he's not done in his attempts to get on my good side. And we all know what kind of environment he was raised in. Backstabbing and treachery are probably in his nature."
"Got it," Ezra whispered back with a smirk, obviously not worried about anything the commando could dish out. He raised his voice back to normal. "Kanan will be out in a minute, along with Hera in hologram form. I hope that's okay?"
"Of course," Sabine said as she started walking towards Bo-Katan, Fenn, and her father. "Now I just have to convince everyone that my idea is worth the risk."
"And what is your idea?" Ezra asked.
"Yes, we've all been wondering that ourselves," Bo-Katan called as Captain Hark and his men marched off in the direction of her Kom'rk and Kanan and Chopper emerged from the Gauntlet. "What scheme are you hatching now, Sabine Wren?"
Sabine grinned to everyone as they assembled around her and Hera's hologram flickered to life via Chopper, drawing out the moment for effect. "A really good one. What do you think of adding the Lothal system to Mandalorian controlled space?"
