Chapter: 10 Daughter of Mandalore
Vala spent the next few weeks crafting her armor. She only ate and slept when the need for either was dire. Dee never left her thoughts. Regret haunted Vala to her core. She kept wondering what would've happened if she'd just ran away with Dee. What would've happened if she'd just left Dee in her prison cell? Vala hated blaming herself for Dee's death, and tried to pin her loathing on Pre Vizsla. The man didn't even give her a chance to prove herself. He decided to pass judgement himself and take a life that could've helped his cause. For a man of honor, Vizsla was no stranger to needless violence. He flaunted his darksaber as a symbol of dominance, one he hoped to assert on Mandalore some day.
Weeks turned into months. It appeared as though only Vala remembered Dee. She was disgusted by Evrus' lack of sentiment towards her death. He had become a prominent warrior alongside Vizsla himself. Evrus donned his freshly forged armor. Each piece of it was as black as his mentor's heart. Silver streaks stretched above and under Evrus' T-shaped visor. As a token of Vizsla's esteem, Evrus was permitted to keep the wampa horns he was sent to retrieve. In fact, he welded them to the sides of his helmet, giving him a far more intimidating image. He also etched Vizsla's triple-pronged mark to his shoulder armor. Now he and Vizsla were practically horned twins. Vala couldn't recall the last time she saw Evrus without his helmet on. She forgot the youthful face beneath it. There were moments where she wondered if that bold man who taught her to shoot and defended her from a drunkard was still in there. All of those moments were bludgeoned by her rising hatred for Vizsla.
Vala did all she could to impress Bo-Katan. While progress on her armor was slow, her physical attributes were improving every day. Running had become second nature to her and she was able to best some of the other Nite Owls. Vala may not have had the gift of Evrus' deadeye, but her shooting only improved. Determined to become the best, Vala focused on her betterments and kept to herself, never speaking to anyone. Meals were always quick to finish and she rarely ate in the mess tent. Whenever she couldn't sleep and her eyes strained from welding, Vala would find the sturdiest tree in the forest. She'd grip its thickest branch and perform pull-ups until her forearms burned. When she couldn't pull any longer, she'd mount the branch and do crunches until her abdomen was destroyed. Her muscle tone increased significantly over the next two weeks. Yet no matter how Vala's physique improved, she still compared herself to the other warriors. It was not until one fateful afternoon that she would put her conditioning to a real test.
The snow fell stronger than usual that afternoon. One of Carlac's most violent blizzards ravaged the landscape. The extremely hazardous conditions forced Death Watch to seek shelter in their tents. Vala sat in the elongated mess tent with her fellow Nite Owls. Her armor neared completion. All that remained was for Vala to forge her helmet. While she fastened her shoulder pad at the table, she stared at another woman's helm. Like Bo-Katan's, its viewport was more rounded and reminiscent of a pair of eyes. This feminine design strongly contrasted the masculine T-shape visor. Vala's analysis of the helmet was cut short when its wearer spoke. "So how long did it take you to put Lazro in his place?"
A man across the table cracked his knuckles. His voice was deep, yet inviting. "No less than ten seconds," he boasted. "I'll humor that hothead in single combat any day."
"Single combat?" asked Vala. The two warriors craned their necks to her.
"Well, old timer?" said the woman as she nudged her friend. "Fill the rookie in, Zal."
He nodded. "In accordance with the ancient laws of Mandalore, a warrior may challenge another to single combat. This is often done to prove one's strength and gain prestige in a clan. In other instances, someone can challenge the leader of a clan in order to usurp him or her. In that case, the warriors serving under that fallen leader are honor-bound to follow the victor." He placed a hand over his heart and spoke in a dramatic tone, "Such is our proud and revered tradition."
Vala sipped her warm brew. "And anyone can challenge anyone?"
The man chuckled and nodded. "Don't tell me you want a piece of me too."
"No," she replied. "You'd be much too easy." She placed her cup down and took a deep breath. She raised her voice so all could hear. "I claim the right of challenge." Every warrior under the tent peered over at her. She could see Vizsla and Evrus watching from the corner of her eye. Vala stood up, feeling the heaviness from every pair of eyes around her. She raised a fist and declared, "I, Vala Ketra...challenge Lieutenant Bo-Katan to single combat!" She pointed across the table until the tip of her finger led to her target. Chatter erupted from some of the warriors while others eagerly awaited a response.
Bo-Katan was certainly caught off guard. She flashed a brief expression that screamed "Are you serious?" She felt the same pressures Vala afflicted her with when she first refused to follow orders. Bo-Katan wasn't humiliated then, and she'd be damned before she permitted herself to be now. She placed her helmet on the table, honorably making the fight fair for Vala. The lieutenant didn't say a word as she stepped towards Vala. Her green eyes remained ever fixed on the youth's blue gaze. The tent's inhabitants silenced as Bo-Katan spoke. "Sit down, Vala." she intoned. "You don't know what you're doing." Vala remained standing. "Sit down!" boomed Bo-Katan.
Vala sneered and replied in a husky tone, "No." Bo-Katan was testing her, or so she believed. True Mandalorians never backed down under any circumstance. They didn't shy away from adversity, cower before a master, or bend to a threat. "I challenged you," she asserted. "And by the ways of our warrior past you must abide by the code!" Bo-Katan's eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled. She despised being told what she already knew. Vala didn't waste another moment. She threw a punch towards the lieutenant's head. Bo-Katan easily caught her fist and delivered a swift jab to her torso. Vala felt the wind forced out of her as she staggered back. She fought through her swelling pain and swung her leg at Bo-Katan. This too she effortlessly countered by grabbing Vala's leg and flipping her to the ground. Ignoring her soreness, Vala leapt to her feet and tackled Bo-Katan out of the tent. Both fighters went tumbling through the snow as the blizzard raged around them. Warriors continued to survey the fight from inside.
Bo-Katan forced herself on top of Vala, pinning her against the ground. She proceeded to deliver two heavy punches across her face, leaving Vala in a daze. Bo-Katan then stood up and trudged her way back to the tent. She was almost to it when Vala scrambled to her feet and charged. Bo-Katan elbowed her in the face and then shoved her back to the ground. The force from her armored pad was enough to make Vala's nose bleed. The bruised blonde felt Bo-Katan's boot press against her chest domineeringly. "Stay down," she ordered.
Every urge for Vala to quit was drowned out by thoughts of Dee's passing. She lunged up as soon as she felt Bo-Katan's boot leave her chest. A shake of her head was enough to stall the double-vision and keep her focused on her opponent. Vala snarled and swung her frost-coated fists at Bo-Katan. The lieutenant swerved and weaved her body to avoid each belligerent strike. All Vala could punch was the frigid air. Once she tired, Bo-Katan initiated a fearsome offensive. She delivered a flurry of rapid punches into Vala's abdomen, and roundhouse kicked her with enough force to send her sailing through the air. Vala landed face first into the snow, groaning from the bodily aches consuming her. Bo-Katan seized her by her long blonde hair and violently yanked upward. She hissed from the pain of having her hair tugged so savagely. Once Vala's face was high enough, she jeered in her ear. "Don't get up if you know what's good for you." Bo-Katan clenched the back of Vala's head and brutally dunked her back in the snow. She kept her smothered for a moment and then released her grip. Vala wearily raised her face, coughing and wheezing for air. Her bloody nose painted the ground with scarlet splatters.
Bo-Katan turned away, reassuming her walk until she heard the snow crunch behind her. She slowly turned to see Vala still moving. Though her arms were shaking, she made herself rise. She furiously brushed the hair from her face and stared down Bo-Katan. No amount of pulsing pain could hinder Vala from raising her fists again. Vala hobbled and limped back into the fight. Bo-Katan closed in and threw a punch. Vala ducked to evade it, only to end up meeting her foe's other fist. She endured the ache from the punch and threw one of her own. Bo-Katan snatched Vala's arm during mid-punch and pulled her into a devastating headbutt. Vala's world spun around her. Her eyesight blurred and her ears popped. The blizzard around her intensified as her wounds did. Amidst her bludgeoned and stunned state, Vala felt Bo-Katan grab her by the waist. She tried to fight back, but her energy was sapped from the initial beatdown. Everyone watched as Bo-Katan lifted Vala over her head. Her hapless flailing was no match for Bo-Katan's firm grip. Once she raised Vala as high as possible, she threw her to the ground. Vala felt as though thousands of needles were injected into her body, each flooding her with unsurpassable pain. Her breath rasped in her throat. Somehow, Vala willed herself to grab Bo-Katan's ankle with her left arm. The lieutenant eyed Vala's grip and stomped on her wrist. A crackle sounded from the tip of her heel and Vala shrieked in response. She clenched her dislocated wrist, mortified by its grotesque contortion. With this injury came a throbbing pang that ravaged her carpus. Vala bit the inside of her cheek to suppress her agony. Her face flushed red and her eyes watered. She battled every urge to weep from the excruciation. Bo-Katan's past words echoed in her mind.
"Mandalorians don't cry. Stop it."
Just as Vala cradled her wrist, Bo-Katan kicked her in the face. The strike was hard enough to make Vala roll across the snow and land with her face half submerged in it. She closed her eyes as the snow numbed her bruised face. The pain from her wrist pulsed constantly. Yet as she sunk deeper into the snow, the pain seemed to leave her. She felt the blizzard's flurry snowfall coating her in a fresh blanket. She lost track of time and delved into the recesses of her darkened mind. Her hearing shifted from the outside world and focused on the slowing beat of her heart. Somewhere in the void between reason and imagination, Vala believed she was dying. She pondered if she was taking her final breaths, and that something beyond all of her struggles awaited her. Then a voice sounded from the void of her mind's eye. It was a hoarse and fatigued voice. No doubt her mother's.
"You could not be a greater disgrace to the Ketra family."
Her father's angry words quickly followed.
"What is wrong with you, child? Is this all some game to you? To speak against our free world like one of those Death Watch barbarians."She could hear the New Mandalorian prison official scolding her.
"What a waste you are."Next came Dee's words, each burning a hole in her spirits.
"Help me, Vala? All you've done is make my life worse."
Vala replied through her subconscious, but her lips mouthed the words, "I'm sorry, Dee."
Then a voice barreled through Vala's thoughts. One of which came from the only man to ever see potential in her.
"Nothing is going to get better until we take a stand. Where will you stand?""Carden," Vala whispered to herself. No matter the situation, nothing would ever improve if Vala hadn't taken a stand. Now it was the only thing she could do. She warped herself free of her deep thinking and the feelings of reality returned. Her eyes shot open and she raised her head from the snow. The blizzard subsided, leaving the combatants standing across a barren plain of snowfall.
Bo-Katan walked away again, only to hear Zal exclaim, "Look!" The lieutenant turned to see Vala shifting in the snow. Her right hand clawed forward while her left dragged behind. Vala forced her leg forward and firmly planted her foot. With an empowering growl, Vala stood up and took a bold step towards Bo-Katan. The lieutenant was bewildered. Beneath her grim exterior stood a very astonished woman. She remained idle, observing how far Vala was willing to carry herself. The other warriors chattered amongst one another while viewing the resilient sight.
Vala trudged forward, nearly falling in the process. She gazed up through her bruised face and locked eyes with Bo-Katan. The lieutenant cracked her knuckles and bolted for Vala. She rocketed a punch straight for Vala's face, but the young blonde ducked and lunged forward. She wrapped her arms around Bo-Katan and drove her knee into her chest. Vala kneed the lieutenant with such vehemence, that she roared a resounding "HAH!" Bo-Katan buckled forward and Vala kneed her twice more. She then pulled away and landed a ferocious right hook across Bo-Katan's face. The strike was enough to make her spin and stumble to the ground. Vala threw another punch, but Bo-Katan caught her fist.
No matter how she struggled to break free, Bo-Katan held her in place. Vala's heart sank when she yelled, "Nite Owls! To me!" Vala watched Bo-Katan's warriors rally to her side. There were enough of them to practically have Vala cornered. She struggled to resist the urge to panic. Flashbacks of what Vizsla and his men had done to Dee plagued her mind. If the same was to happen to her with the Nite Owls, she was in no shape to defend herself or even make a quick getaway. Bo-Katan stared Vala down and then released her grip. "Take a good long look, Nite Owls. Strength is life, for the strong have the right to rule. The first tenet in the Mandalorian code. This recruit has demonstrated incredible tenacity despite be overwhelmingly overpowered. As you can see, Vala doesn't give up. She doesn't break. She also has some deadly knees." Bo-Katan pressed her hand to her chest. She raised Vala's right arm. "THIS is what a Nite Owl looks like. This is what a true Mandalorian fights like! We could all learn a lesson from her valiance. In fact, I say we put her stout heart to the test." The Nite Owls cheered in agreement. "Vala, I hereby appoint you to join my personal detail as a bodyguard."
Vala's resolve calmed. She was dumbfounded by Bo-Katan's kindness, just as Dee had been weeks ago. "Thank you," Vala murmured from her reddened face. "I would like that very much." To Bo-Katan's surprise, Vala actually saluted her.
"That's good," replied Bo-Katan. "Because the promotion wasn't optional." She departed with a smirk. The rest of the Nite Owls slowly dispersed, all except for Zal.
"Alright, I'll admit I'm impressed. But if you're rising up in Death Watch, you'll need to finish your armor. Need any help?"
Vala nodded. "The helmet's challenging."
Zal cackled. "You should have seen me when I was your age. My first helmet was as dented as a kinrath's face!" Vala remained silent. "Never seen a kinrath, have you?"
"Read about them," she grumbled.
Zal looked down at Vala's wrist. "That looks grievous. Here, let me take a look." Vala winced as he took her hand. "The damn thing's dislocated!"
"I know," hissed Vala.
"Well here, I'll pop it back into place." He clenched her wrist and readied himself. "On three."
Vala flashed a condescending grin. "You think I don't know that trick? When we get to two, you'll-"
SNAP!
"Aaaaagh!" growled Vala. "What the hell?!"
"What? I thought you knew the trick?" chuckled Zal.
Vala felt a mild relief in her relocated wrist. "But we didn't get to two!"
"Technically, you said two." Vala rolled her weary eyes as Zal guffawed away. "Come on, let's see what we can do about that helmet of yours."
Vala's great struggle yielded fruitful results. Her fight with Bo-Katan demonstrated what she was capable of, and more importantly, what fire she had within. There was something about unleashing her rage in that fight that brought her a measure of peace. She found herself opening up to the other Nite Owls. Her chats were mostly with Zal, whom she came to learn was one of Bo-Katan's bodyguards as well. She took pride in her prowess and doing so sent a message to all who observed her. Vala was a rising warrior, furiously improving with each day that passed. Ironically, talk about Evrus diminished. There were even times Vala heard Vizsla berating him. She always pondered the reason, but never long enough to actually care. Rather than enjoy her achievement at a higher rank and slack, Vala strived to perfect herself. Without even meaning to, she was truly disciplined. From the moment she awakened, Vala devoted herself to her training. She knew she was good, but never boasted. Bo-Katan did plenty of that for her. Vizsla still wouldn't give Vala his time, but what did she care? He was busy contacting a foreign ally away. While her hatred for him still festered within, her personal aspirations drowned it out. Vala returned to her original vision of a restored Mandalore. One where every young person was as much a warrior as she had become. She trained every day imagining herself rocketing in with the Nite Owls, storming the Duchess' palace and overthrowing her sickeningly pacifistic regime. She dreamt about it, yearning for the day such a glorious event would materialize.
"Vala...Vala!" exclaimed Zal. "Wake up!"
She stirred from her cot and grumbled. "What? What's going on?"
"Suit up. You're not going to believe what's just happened! What Vizsla's boys have caught!"
Vala rubbed her groggy face. "What's happened, Zal? What'd they catch?...Zal?" He had already departed from her tent. "Damn old coot." She slid out of bed and peered into a hanging mirror. A gift from Bo-Katan. Vala took a moment to examine herself. It was almost a year since she'd joined Death Watch. The scars across her cheek and chin had healed, leaving faint, discolored streaks against her skin. Her torso flexed as she leaned forward. Her prominent abdominals and toned obliques were testaments to her conditioning. When Vala looked into the mirror, she saw a true daughter of Mandalore. She brushed her hand across the top of her head. Her flowing locks of blonde were no more. As a symbol of her warrior transformation and tribute to Dee, Vala trimmed her hair until it was short and bristly. The style also made putting a helmet on more comfortable.
After fastening her ebony flak, Vala hastily equipped her completed, slate-colored armor. Once she brandished her black belt, she holstered her Westar 35 to her hip and reached for her helmet. Thankfully Zal had helped her sculpt the damn thing. She glared at the helmet's curved viewport and then examined its indicate coloration. Every Mandalorian's armor told a story. Two streaks of white contrasted against the sides of her helmet, each symbolizing an ascending soul. Carden's on the left cheek, Dee on the right. Vala etched the V insignia of the Nite Owls to the forehead of the helmet. She could hear Zal's teasing from when she first created the mark. "You sure that's not a V for Vala?" he'd joke. After rekindling such an eye-roll worthy moment, Vala equipped her helmet and her jetpack. The Z-6 was a nimble, well-known model and a Mandalorian trademark. The top-loaded missile made the jetpack as equally deadly as it was distinguishable.
As Vala departed from her tent, she did so as proud Nite Owl of Death Watch.
Vala activated her jetpack and rocketed off of the ground. Her ascension towards the night sky was slow and wobbly. Flying never was Vala's specialty, and a jetpack would take time to get used to. She flew across the settlement, wondering what the hell Zal had woken her up for. This was the one day Bo-Katan ordered her to rest and recover. It was that she caught a glimpse of the other Death Watch warriors. They were gathering around Vizsla's tent as several men jetpacked in. Their whipcords were dragging some squirming, horned beast into camp. Vala optimized her rangefinder. The scanner shifted in front of her right eye, permitting her to zoom in on the target. Further examination revealed that the beast was a woman. It was not horns she saw, but rather montrals, the iconic mark of the Togruta species. Her face looked familiar to her. Someone from her past, no doubt. Someone she knew from a time when she was nothing more than a rebellious student. In fact, this captured woman had been her lecturer, and was unmistakably a Jedi.
Vala's eyes widened with realization. "Ahsoka?"