Cu'bikahd was an interesting game, Fenn Rau mused, certainly more interesting than the more widely popular dejarik.

The grizzled warrior, a former bodyguard to Duchess Satine Kryze and founder of the Protectors of Concord Dawn, current prisoner of the nascent rebellion against the Empire, studied the eponymous holographic cube, noting the position of his blades, which were colored cyan, and those of his opponent, colored orange. Normally, if anyone in this damned pathetic excuse for a military would play a game of strategy with him, he would welcome it.

That is, if they weren't a kriffing dar'manda oathbreaker and traitor, like the one sitting across from him now.

He had met the infamous White Raven on Concord Dawn, when she and that Jedi, Jarrus, were seeking retribution for the attempted murder of Jarrus' lover, Hera Syndulla.

Fenn had to suppress a sneer. Syndulla's near-death incident was the cause of two enemy combatants engaging each other in hard contact. It was war, nothing more, nothing less. To think Wren had the gall of accusing him of cowardice…sometimes he wondered if he could have throttled the traitor right then and there, given his lack of restraints at the moment, were it not for the guards and the fact that her crew would go to great lengths to avenge her.

Especially that cold, dead-eyed Grey Wolf.

He had heard the stories about his brutality from the guards, rumors about how he mutilated the bodies of Imperial stormtroopers and officers, sticking their heads upon pikes and painting chilling messages in their blood, all to warn the Empire that their tyranny would no longer be tolerated.

Fenn scoffed. Robb Stark was a fool. The Empire was too vast, too technologically advanced, and too powerful to ever take down. Many nations had tried to fight the Emperor and his fleets and legions- all of them were either eradicated or made to serve the will of Coruscant and its master. One man, no matter how good, could never hope to tackle such a beast.

No one could.

He took his mind off such brooding thoughts, however, and refocused his attention back to the game at hand. He was immediately intrigued, however, when he saw the strategy his opponent was attempting.

Or the lack thereof.

"Blade to Cubeface-4?" he inquired, somewhat amused at her boldness. "That's a brazen strategy. You play with far too much bravado."

Sabine smirked at him. Oh, how I want to rip it off. "Strategy is an art, Rau," she boasted, making that irritating comparison to her love of the arts. Again. "Maybe I'm just luring you into a false sense of security."

Fenn guffawed. "Ha! There's nothing false about it. Blade to Cubeface-2," he indicated to the droid, who moved the piece accordingly, knocking out Sabine's key piece and turning the entire board Red.

Score one for the loyalist.

"I win," he bragged, smirking back at the traitor. "You know, I've bet your game has slipped since you fled Mandalore." he gloated as he let his smirk settle into a frown. "Why do you keep coming back here? You and your friends have imprisoned me. My men have orders to give you safe passage through our system, so what more can you want?"

Sabine didn't answer him, at first, instead motioning to the droid with her head. "Reset the board, Chop," she commanded, before deigning to answer him. "I want what we've always wanted, Rau; for you and your Protectors to join the Rebellion. To fight the Empire."

Fenn scoffed. Really? Again? This was what her little social call was about? Alright, he'll humor her.

"I made a deal with the Empire to survive," he stressed, not expecting her to understand. He didn't care. "I made a deal with your rebellion to survive. But joining you?" he spat, pointedly ignoring the fact that her amber eyes had hardened into steel. "My only true loyalty is to Mandalore, something I don't expect you to understand," he insulted, causing her to glare at him. "You know, though, I do admire your persistence. You would have made a good Protector, where it not for your treasonous past."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Not this, again."

"You know, you can still redeem yourself," he pressed, not entirely sure why he was doing this. "If I were released, we can join forces and fight not for the rebellion, nor for the Empire, but for Mandalore."

He saw the wheels turning in her head, as she folded her hands in front of her mouth and adopted a thoughtful expression. She looked like she was about to reply when they were both interrupted by her Lasat companion; Zeb, he thinks he called himself.

"Sorry to interrupt your playtime, but Hera needs you on the bridge," he commanded, turning to glare at Fenn. "Both of you," he added with much hesitancy.

Fenn's eyebrows shot up in surprise. What would she want with him? Certainly, not a social call- he did almost kill her, after all, and he doubted either her lover or her adopted son have forgiven him entirely for that. Still, if the Rebels were needing him that badly, it had to be something of importance. Besides, it certainly beat sitting in his cell for another month or so.

"So, shall we?" The traitor asked him tersely, beckoning him to follow her.

Fenn snorted. "As you wish, Wren."

CR90 corvettes were not large ships, Rau discovered when they made the short walk to the command center. At only a scant one-hundred thirty meters long, and armed with only two dual laser cannon turrets and four single cannon turrets, it could not stand against even an Arquitens-class light cruiser, let alone an Imperial-class Star Destroyer.

Then again, it's role was not intended to be a battlecruiser, was it? No, it's role was primarily to slip in and out of blockades and to act as an anti-fighter platform.

A perfect vessel for these rebels, then, he thought amusedly as he was brought to the bridge of the Liberator.

"Journeyman Rau," the commander of Phoenix Squadron, Jun Sato, greeted him nonchalantly as he came to the bridge.

"Commander Sato," he replied just as dryly, eager to just get this over with and back to his cell, away from these fools. "Why did you bring me up here, Syndulla?" He turned to the leader of the squadron's fighter wing. "Did you rebels suddenly decide to warm up to me?"

"Nope," Hera fired back. "Just making sure you aren't about to plant a dagger in our backs."

Dagger in their backs? What the hell is she talking about? Fenn thought incredulously before the Twi'lek captain punched in a few keys, and the display table lit up with a projection of a planet, with swirling purple clouds and a huge chunk of the southern hemisphere blown to kingdom come.

Concord Dawn.

"We've lost contact with the Mandalorian base on Concord Dawn, about five standard hours ago," Hera informed, and Fenn swore that the air dropped a few degrees in temperature.

Sato turned his attention to him, and he swore he could feel the sudden cold evaporate in the heat of his glare. "Rebel command is concerned that you and your Journeyman Protectors are setting a trap for us."

Wait?

What?

Fenn fumed. How dare they question a Mando's sacred honor? When one swore an oath, one was expected to keep that oath to the point of death, or forever be cursed as dar'manda, a man without a soul.

"Impossible," he spat. "My men are loyal to my word, and my word alone. Your safe passage through our space is secure. If you've lost communication, something's happened."

The traitor stepped forth. "I'll go check it out," she declared with certainty and finality. He was almost taken aback. Was the White Raven truly loyal to this cause? He cleared his head of those thoughts. No, you fool, he mentally chided himself. She's simply using them for her own ends. Regardless, my men will never listen to her…

"I should go with you," he requested, beginning to hatch a plan. If this worked, he could be home free, doubly so if he turned the tables, captured Wren, and brought her to the Kar'a for trial. "They're my men, I can talk to them."

"Wait a minute…" the Lasat grumbled. "Isn't this bugger our prisoner?" He complained.

The blind Jedi, Kanan, smirked. "More like our very cranky guest," he snarked. Rau had to chuckle slightly at that, though last time he had seen Jarrus, he had his sight.

He wondered what had happened these past several months while he was cooped up in a prison cell.

"Alright..." Hera drawled out, apparently distrusting of him. "He can go, but he stays in binders. You're in charge of the mission Sabine. Take Ezra and Chopper, and do a recon sweep of their base. But you are not to land or engage. If you encounter trouble, I want you to come right back home," she commanded, then looked pointedly at Bridger's direction. "And try not to lose the Phantom II? We just got that thing."

"Understood, ma'am," Bridger sighed, then walked with Sabine and their droid to their new replacement shuttle, already painted and ready to fly. Rau's mind went into overdrive, as his heart soared with elation at the news.

Wren, she would be more cautious around him, that was for certain, but Bridger? Oh, the boy may have been a good warrior, he'll give him that much, but from what he had heard, the orphan from Lothal was still socially awkward and somewhat naïve. If he could get Bridger alone for a few minutes.

"With your permission, ma'am," a deep, Kuati-sounding voice rumbled out of the back of the war-room, and Rau froze in his tracks. "I'd like to accompany Ezra and Sabine on their mission."

"Any reason why, Robb?" Hera asked the black armored man, and Fenn's heart sank. If Stark was going to be going on this little mission of theirs, escape was going to be much harder than originally anticipated. Wren and Bridger he could handle, but Stark was nothing if not hyper-vigilant. Untrusting except for those closest to him, and unlike the rest of the crew, he had no qualms about using deadly force as a first option. A true, hardened killer in the midst of a ragtag group of farm boys and idealists.

Rau grimaced. Great, just when he thought he was getting out of here.

"I don't trust Rau," Robb said, pointing a thumb in his direction. "The man is dangerous, and Sabine and Ezra will have their hands full just doing the recon sweep. Besides, I've been coupled in on Atollon for far too long while you were having all the fun."

Hera snorted. "Having a run in with the best commander the Empire has to offer isn't my idea of fun, nor is Sabine almost getting herself captured during that mission to Skystrike, nor is half my crew nearly getting killed on that planet full of old battle droids," she sighed. "Alright, Master Chief, you have my permission to tag along on the mission. Just make sure the kids don't do anything reckless."

Robb flashed her a cheeky grin. "If they're anything like their parents, Hera, they have nothing to worry about."

The Twi'lek pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's what worries me, especially with Ezra taking after Kanan."

Robb shot her a sharp salute, which she immediately returned, and then began to stalk his way towards where Rau was standing, still in binders. Cold sapphires gazed into stormy oceans when Stark got close enough, and when he spoke, he spoke in a voice that was void of all the emotion he had conveyed to Hera. Of course, he wasn't in his little pack, Rau mused to himself.

"Well, Journeyman." The wolf spoke, beckoning him on. "Shall we?"

Concord Dawn wasn't too far from Atollon, at the very heart of Mandalorian Space, therefore only taking a couple of standard hours to travel.

Fenn mused silently to himself, as he sat across from the Grey Wolf while Wren and Bridger were manning the cockpit. According to the star charts, more than a thousand systems in the Northern Outer Rim lay under the suzerainty of Mandalore, making it almost as large as the territory controlled by the Hutts in the south. Once, the Mandalorians were the masters of the entire Rim, an empire that was feared and respected in equal measure, and made the Republic tremble in terror, before the Grey Knight, Revan the Butcher, and his Revanchists turned the tide and crushed them at Malachor. Ever since then, the Mandalorians had seen their ups and downs, but only fairly recently had they seen their decline and subjection under the Empire. Once more, Rau cursed House Vizsla. If not for Tor's lust for power and Pre's recklessness, Manda'yim would have remained strong and proud under the wise leadership of Jaster Mereel, the last true Mand'alor.

He had only heard stories about what Mereel was like from his mentor, Kal Skirata, but from what he had heard, it was the last time Manda'yim was truly strong and whole. Satine had tried her best in the aftermath of the devastating conflict with Death Watch, those traitors, but her overly idealistic ways and stubborn refusal to change her stance had alienated her from much of her support from the ruling clans, who became so enraged by her policies that most stayed neutral, turned to mercenary work, or outright joined Death Watch. Despite all this, he was still loyal to the throne, and thus joined the Journeyman Protectors; the ancient and revered militia which mostly kept the balance in Mandalorian society.

He smiled in slight fondness at the memory. As eventual leader of the Protectors, he could decide whom he would fight for and when. Fortune had it that the Kyr'tsad initially joined up with Dooku and his so-called "Confederacy of Independent Systems", which made his choice rather easy; he had signed his forces on with the Galactic Republic.

Oh, what battles there were. Flying through the skies and through the vastness of space, cutting down vulture droids like a scythe through wheat. Slogging it out on the ground with legions of clones, ripping through battle droids left and right. It was like the times of old come anew, and the spirit of his ancestors flowed through him.

But in the end, it had all been for naught. Mandalore fell to the Death Watch, Satine was killed by Maul, the Republic became the Empire and slaughtered it's Jedi protectors, and Gar Saxon assumed power as Imperial Viceroy, styling himself as "The Hand of Palpatine".

Fenn gritted his teeth. Clan Saxon; those men were the very definition of dar'manda. When Pre lost his head, they found a new leader in Maul. When Maul was driven off the planet, they sided with the Emperor and assisted him in the brutal subjection of their own homeland. To say that he despised them greatly…well, that would be like pointing out that space was black.

"What is your problem with Sabine?" Robb's quiet voice brought him out of his musings. The Protector looked at the Grey Wolf, his eyes gleaming like cold lakes.

Fortunately for Rau at this very moment, the door to the cockpit was closed, leaving just himself and Robb in the passenger section, so he was able to give his opinion of her freely and truthfully, without having her meddling Jedi friend step in and lambaste him over things he did not understand.

But then again, when has that stopped him before?

"Dar'manda," he spat, the word slipping off his tongue like oil. "She and her whole family are nothing but traitors and turncoats."

"And you are good and true?" Robb questioned back. "From what I heard, when you and your men saw the Empire's legions bearing down upon your worlds, did you valiantly raise up arms against them? Or did you tuck tail like a beaten dog and prostrate yourself before them, just so you could meek out a meager existence on some remote planet?"

Fenn's eyes narrowed in anger, and his nostrils flared. "Be careful with your words, Stark. It's easy to call a man a craven if he's in chains."

"And what would you do if you were out of chains, hm?" Robb quirked an eyebrow. "Try to gut me? Strangle me? Your chances of that are slim, especially if you underestimate me. And even if you do manage to strike me down, my friends would pick up my blade and avenge my death. Sabine, especially." Robb calmly informed him as he flexed his right hand. "She saved my life, you know? Stabbed Maul in the back when I lay before him, helpless and injured. I'd be dead if not for her. She has more than earned my trust and loyalty."

Fenn sputtered, not quite believing what he was hearing. "You can't trust her, she's-"

"-honorable and forthright, which is more than I can say for some," Robb replied calmly to the veteran Protector.

Fenn gritted his teeth. "She's an oathbreaker, Stark!" he seethed. "She forswore her sacred vow made at the Academy, and ran like a craven when Mandalore and her clan needed her most."

"Does the Force smile upon those who keep their oaths to men they know are evil?" Robb juxtaposed to him. "Aye, I will admit, Sabine is still something of a summer knight, green as grass itself. But what she did at the Academy- standing up for what she knew was just- that takes courage, Fenn of Clan Rau, and I notice the same kind of courage and honor in her and young Bridger, both."

Fenn said nothing for a long moment, his thoughts churning and boiling until at last, he drew slowly.

"Tell me…Stark…you speak of honor and courage, and yet how honorable is it to butcher soldiers merely doing their jobs like cattle? To mutilate their bodies and paint messages in their blood? You are nothing more than a bandit and a bully. You see fit to lecture me on bravery, yet you hid from your crimes every kriffing day, thinking that by joining this band of idealistic fools and idiots you somehow atone for your crimes!" he ranted. "Well, let me tell you exactly what you are doing, Stark; you aren't helping anything! The Empire is infinite! For every patrol you butcher, they raze a settlement to the ground. For every officer you hang on a cross, they do the same to some farmer and his family! And sure, the fools in the Rim might love you for it, but in the Core, they burn your effigy. You can't win!" he snarled, his breath now coming out haphazardly. "No one can. Not against Palpatine."

Robb hooded his eyes for a moment- just a brief, antagonizing moment, before he glared at Rau, again. "You're wrong, Rau. I do not hide from my crimes- I live with the consequences of them every day. Every night, I am haunted by the faces of my past, both the people I failed and the young men whose lives I have cut short. Every one of them drives me forward. Aye, I will not lie, I am not a good man, anymore, not by a long shot. But I will continue to fight, Fenn, so that the truly good men and women of this galaxy have a chance to live, to experience life in all its joys and sorrows." He corrected, then pointed to the cockpit. "And the Empire is not as all-powerful as you think. If they were, the rebellion should have been stamped out long ago, but it hasn't. Even with every loss, every defeat, it continues to grow and grow." He paused for a moment. "I was once a lot like you; a cynic who didn't believe in anything or anyone, just content to drink my life away in some cantina on a backwater planet. That is until the day I saw what Bridger and his kind can do," he said, pointing to the cabin. "They made me believe in something worthy, again. They made me see that there is still something worth fighting for."

Fenn said nothing, instead choosing to contemplate Robb's words as the ship pulled out of hyperspace, the door to the cockpit sliding open to reveal Concord Dawn before them.

"Whoa..." Ezra whistled. "What happened here."

"Numerous civil wars happened here," Sabine answered, her voice filled with sadness. Fenn, despite his dislike of her, could only agree with her solemnly as they pulled closer to the planets orbit.

"Mandalore has weathered many trials in the past," he explained. "We will weather the Empire and this rebellion."

"Too bad we can't seem to weather our people not wanting to work with one another." Sabine replied, pointing to the broken southern hemisphere. "Face it, Rau, the clans haven't gotten along with each other since the death of Jaster Mereel."

Fenn could only nod. Gar Saxon may have been named Viceroy by the will of Palpatine, but he was, by all accounts, a usurper. Perhaps one day, a true leader could claim the throne and lead their people to greatness once again.

Perhaps.

"Concord'vaar'tur Abiik'bral, ibici Prudi Rayshe'a. Gedet'ye me'vaar ti gar?" Sabine keyed to the airbase on the third moon of the planet, as their droid conducted a planet-wide recon scan, and Bridger appeared to be reaching out with what the jetiise called the 'Force'.

An alarmed wobble from the droid alerted everyone in the shuttle, as Bridger turned worriedly to his friend.

"Bean, how big did you say this base was?" he asked, his voice growing full of trepidation. Now Fenn was growing alarmed. What was going on down there? What had happened to his brothers-in-arms?

Sabine repeated the transmission a third time, and again, not receiving any response from the airbase.

"Sabine…" Robb began, keeping one eye on Fenn. "I think it's time we get out of here."

"No!" Fenn snarled. "Not until I find out what's happened to my men!"

"Hera ordered us not to land…" Sabine began to protest but was cut off by Fenn.

"I believe your orders were to find out what happened to the base!" he snapped. "You can't very well do that from here, can you?"

"You aren't our superior, Rau," Ezra snapped back. "Besides, if they aren't responding to anything we try, they're most likely either dead or trying to ambush us."

"I already told you, boy," Fenn rebuked, "my men are loyal to me! How can they be plotting an ambush if I'm not there to command them to?"

"ENOUGH!" Robb's yell cut through the rising tension, silencing everyone onboard. The Grey Wolf turned to Sabine. "Look, Hera's orders were to find out what happened here. That takes priority over staying in the air. All we are doing by staying up here is failing in our mission."

Sabine turned to him, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You do realize that I'm in command of this mission, right?"

Robb nodded. "Of course, but as a senior non-commissioned officer, I can still advise you on what to do and not to do," he pointed out to the moon. "Besides, if Hera yells at you for this, I'll take the blame. Tell her our mission parameters changed due to unforeseen circumstances. Which, in all honesty, they probably have."

Before they could continue the discussion further, Chopper warbled something in alarm.

"Ship incoming!" Ezra yelled. "I don't recognize the class."

"I do," Sabine groaned. "Kom'rk-class fighter/transport. IFF bears two markings."

"Which two markings?" Robb asked worriedly, although Fenn probably already knew the answer.

"One's the Imperial cog. So, we know they aren't friendly. The other…" her voice trailed off. "The other is the sigil of Clan Saxon; black serpent on a red field, eating its own tail."

Fenn's eyes narrowed. "What are they doing all the way out…" he trailed off, realizing the implication. "No…."

"Rau, what is it?" Sabine asked, her voice filled with worry.

"We need to get down there, now!" he yelled, moving towards the control console before being shoved back into his seat by Robb.

"And we will. We have to if we want to evade them because somehow I get the feeling it's faster than us." Robb said, pointing towards the window, where among the backdrop of black space and distant stars, they could make out a single point of light growing bigger and bigger. The crew took the hint and dove towards the moon below

"Set down in one of the canyons." Fenn pointed out, waving his hand to a rocky outcropping on the planet's surface. "Their sensors can't track us in there."

With the grace of a falcon, Sabine swiftly turned course and headed for the gorge, choosing to land on a flat patch of earth with an outcropping of limestone over it.

As soon as the ship landed at the end of the canyon, and it was safe for the party to disengage the landing ramp, the oathbreaker turned to the crew.

"Alright, since the last plan went south, we're going with a new one," she informed as she programmed coordinates into her vambrace. "Chopper, you stay here and make sure no one spots the ship. We'll call you if we need back up. Rau, you'll accompany Ezra and me to the main Protector's encampment. Robb, you'll provide overwatch for us on one of the cliffs surrounding the base."

"Roger," Robb sounded off, hefting his DC-15s, and copying the coordinates to the base before exiting the shuttle.

"Well, Fenn..." Sabine fixed him with a stare. "You wanted to find out what happened to your men. So, you lead the way."

Fenn had almost forgotten how arid and dry this little moon was. Even though it was the early evening, the temperatures here were still sweltering. Fortunately, the place where they had set it down was only a couple clicks away from the base, so they didn't have to walk too far.

He was growing more anxious by the minute, though he wouldn't show it in front of Sabine and her Jedi companion. His mind raced with all the possibilities, as he tried to ignore the pit of dread that had been forming in his stomach ever since Syndulla told him that his men had broken contact with them.

Soon enough, they ascended over one of the hills that surrounded the base, and before him…

No. His mind screamed as he surveyed the damage before him.

Laying before them was the base of the Protectors, or what was left of it. Buildings once housing dozens of men were burning, the orange flames illuminating the evening sky. Everywhere, the bodies of his men were scattered, broken and bloody.

He wanted to claw his eyes out right then and there, so he could erase the sight of his brothers' twisted bodies from his mind. He wanted to throttle that traitor on the spot, then use her broken corpse to beat Gar and his men to death with. But in the end…

…all he could do was drop to his knees in disbelief, and curse everything around him.

For the Journeyman Protectors- that ancient and noble order of guardians- was no more. Destroyed by an Empire, capricious and malevolent.

He had failed, again.

A/N: Well, that was a pretty long chapter, eh?

In truth, this is probably the greatest amount of exposition I've done so far, but it's all for a reason. Fenn Rau, while an awesome recurring character, doesn't have much backstory as far as it goes, asides from bits and pieces told by Pablo and the rest. So, I made up my own for him.

It never made sense for me that Hera wouldn't consider the possibility that the Protectors might be…well…dead, and that if you are going to recon an area, you need to do a COMPLETE recon of the area, not just aerial. Besides, something about her plan…to me it felt like it allowed no room for contingencies, which is essential in planning an op, but what do I know? I was only a scout for three years of my life.

Yep, Robb has been promoted to the rank of Master Chief Petty Officer. I didn't want to give him an officer's rank (there are enough of those), but I felt that his personality would fit in well with that of a crusty old Senior NCO.

I based the Clan Sigil of Clan Saxon on the Norse version of the Ouroboros, just as I based Clan Wren's sigil off a version of Odin's ravens.

Mando'a, for those wondering:

Cu'bikahd: Mandalorian board game. Involves knives, patience, and cunning.

Dar'manda: Without Soul. Used as a colloquium for referring to Mandalorians who have lost their sacred honor, and are thus viewed as soulless traitors.

Kyr'tsad: Death Watch. A group of Mandalorian extremists who believed in returning to the glory days of the Crusades under Mandalore the Indomitable.

Komr'k: Gauntlet.

Concord'vaar'tur Abiik'bral, ibici Prudi Rayshe'a. Gedet'ye me'vaar ti gar?: "Concord Dawn Airbase, this is Specter Five. Please respond, over?"

Kar'a: Name of an ancient, legendary council. Now used to describe the council of clan chieftains and counts, which decide on matters of the gravest emergency, such as the election of the next Mand'alor.

Manda'yim: The homeworld of the Mandalorians

Mand'alor: The warrior-king of the Mandalorian people.

Mando'ade: The Mandalorian people.

Mando'a: The language is spoken by those residing in Mandalorian Space alongside Galactic Basic.

Jetiise: Jedi.

Till the next!