"This is Blood Battalion Officer Third Brass Jack Orin. Respond?"
"Hello, Jack Orin. I'm…" He hesitated, forcing down the embarrassment of his given name. "I am Boot, second in command to Mandalore the Prosperous."
"Ah, Boot. I am glad to hear from you again and the Blood Battalion is forever in your debt for the work you and your people have done. However, proper procedure dictates that I refer you to your designated liaison-"
"I don't trust Hyne."
"I can assure you, our Officer Second Brass working with your clan is more than qualified for her position."
Boot noticed a pause before the diplomat's response, along with something else. A sneer perhaps? And he already knew her rank? "I apologize. I spoke wrong. What I have to say is just something I couldn't send through the proper chain of command."
"Of course. I understand." There was a touch of disdain in his voice.
So, he was close with Hyne. "We now know that one of the attackers at our base was a Jedi. I would like the chance to offer my expertise in handling a problem like that."
Jack was taken aback by that information, but did his best to hide it. "Of course. You Mandalorians are renowned Jedi killers."
He was nervous. "We ai… We are still not sure if the other attacker was a Jedi and that is why I wanted the chance to offer my services now. If one Jedi has shown up in public, then there are probably six more under the floorboards. Everyone on Centrallis, but especially in this base, is in danger."
The Bloods never liked Jedi. The diplomat was no different. He did not hide his discomfort well. "Yeah, I will get you an audience with the Huntress, immediately."
The Huntress? Boot had expected a higher ranking officer. The diplomat was even more worried than he seemed. "Perfect. I will speak to you again, soon."
Boot cut the line before he had to listen to the long winded signoff the Bloods always did.
He stepped out of the communications hub, which laid beneath the twisted metal tower in the center of the compound.
"I'm done," he told the communications officer, who headed back inside the small building without a word.
Boot headed back to the main headquarters, past the rows of yurts and several warriors walking around without their armor.
It disgusted him. Their wall wasn't even repaired yet and even if it was they had a reputation to uphold. The prestige of the Mandalorians hadn't been built on a foundation of complacency. It had been built on conquest and blood.
His quarters were right next to those of Mandalore himself and it was only once he was inside that he finally removed his armor. Every piece was treated with reverence.
Even if it hadn't been Beskar, it was an extension of him, just the same as his rifle, his code and his name.
"My name," said Boot, lastly removing his helmet and looking at his reflection in the silver t-shaped visor. It was something he dared not try to change. It would always be a part of him, but soon a new name would be the one written into the history books. It would be etched into every tome under images of his visor and the list of worlds he had conquered and burned. "Mandalore."