CHAPTER 36
Relapse
Dantooine – 2 BBY
Bo Katan paid a little extra this visit, watching as their server droid placed a bowl of stew about twice the size Alhara had before in front of her. The girl, dirty, tired and beat, finally had another smile on her face as the reward came through, and wasted no time satisfying her famished body as the droid rolled away. Watching her do so made her lips curve into a smile in an uncontrollable fashion, and then patted her back slightly as she paid no mind.
Alhara choked slightly, and Bo stood up in alarm, only to see her swallow after a moment, followed by a laugh. Not finding it particularly funny at first, her contagious joy reached out, and Bo found herself chuckling as she reclaimed her seat.
"Sorry," Alhara apologized. "I'll slow down."
Bo Katan snorted. "Smart choice…no need to rush to spend your entire reward in one sitting. You earned it, so spend it wisely."
She nodded, and then returned to eating, this time much more conservatively.
Bo Katan felt her own stomach rumble, considering the prospect of having her own bowl of stew, but eventually decided settling for her ration sticks back at their camp would serve her better. She didn't have unlimited credits after all.
"Have you heard anything from Nara?" Alhara asked, her eyes still fixed on her bowl, drawing Bo's attention back to her. "Is she okay?"
She swallowed, shaking her head. "No…and it's making me…"
Trailing off, the person of interest entered the cantina, drawing eyes from the alien patrons towards her gleaming armor until they lost interest and returned to the meals and drinks. Nara had no one with her, and just by her walking posture, she looked sullen…and sluggish. She took the empty seat across from Bo, removing her helmet as soon as the server droid rolled back over.
"Two shots of Rancor's Gut, please," she asked, setting the helmet at her feet and wiping her eyes while the droid rolled off.
"That bad?" Bo Katan asked, leaning forward.
Nara nodded, snorting heavily to reveal the mental destitution she currently suffered. "That bad," she answered, falling back in her chair and turning to Alhara with a tired smile. "Hey girl."
"Hey," Alhara greeted, still focused on her meal.
The server droid returned with the two shot glasses and began to pour. "Where are your two friends?" Bo Katan asked.
"Fuck them," Nara rolled her eyes, just as the pouring was finished and they were left alone again. "They can both rot in fucking hell for all I care," she shrugged, swiping up the first shot and wincing during its entire journey down her throat. "Fuck…that shit's disgusting."
Bo licked her lips, letting out an exhale. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Nara's eyes met hers, and all she found was pain and despair. The chiss shook her head. "It's all bullshit, Bo. I don't want to talk about it."
So it wasn't just that bad…it was that bad.
"Everything went to fucking shit," Nara cursed evermore, seeming to have no intention of cleaning up her act in front of Alhara. "I don't even know where to start."
"We can talk about it later," Bo Katan eased. "For now, I'm just glad you're back."
Nara smiled slightly at that, nodding her head. "Me too…" she turned back to Alhara. "I want to hear how this stud has been slugging it."
"Better than you would've," Alhara quipped, still looking down at her bowl.
Nara chuckled at that, as did Bo. "Ah…I missed you…you little schutta."
It was a long story, Bo Katan realized, plenty long enough for she and Nara to watch the sun dip behind the horizon as it was told. Alhara had finished her drills some time ago, and had fallen asleep in the tent not far from where their ship had remained while Bo and Nara sat beside each other in the soft grass. Dantooine was known for its tranquility, and she was glad they had happened to be in such a place for Nara to unveil all her frustrations. In all their years together, she had never heard Nara so subdued…so unwilling to let her chipper attitude destabilize the seriousness of the moment. Everything she depicted was completely genuine…and gut-wrenchingly depressing. Bo Katan had suffered many similar tragedies during her slightly longer life, and was able to provide some bits of empathy…but there was only so much she could do.
"I like to think she let me live because she still loves me," Nara figured, her voice low and arm wrapped around one propped up knee. "But I saw her eyes…all that hatred. She wanted to do it. She wanted to kill me."
"But she didn't," Bo reasoned, sitting tall as a sign of support. "She had all the reason in the galaxy to pull that trigger, and she chose to let you live."
Nara shook her head. "Thrawn said I was still useful to the Ascendancy…right before a sharpshooter blasted me in the shoulder," she wrapped her knuckles against her armor. "I think that's why I'm still alive to even tell you this."
Bo frowned. "I thought you left your people behind?"
"I did," Nara scowled, and Bo realized her tone sounded more accusatory than she intended. "You want to charge me with treason or something?"
Bo Katan flashed her a warning glance. "Nara…"
Quickly, the chiss noticed her outburst, and bowed her head. "Sorry…I…"
"It's fine," she waved it off with a sigh, looking towards the setting sun. "You're frustrated and hurt, I get it."
Nara shook her head, resting it atop her knee, followed by a heavy sigh. "I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do, Bo. This whole thing is a fucking mess, and I'm sitting at the center of it."
Unfortunately for her, Bo Katan really didn't know what to tell her, aside from offering motivational advice that bordered on 'suck it up'…which she had determined would probably be counterproductive. The only thing she'd ever been good at was combat, bloodshed and war. Trying to help someone navigate their feelings was another matter.
"So you left to get closure and instead found more uncertainty…and that your own sister is one of Wraith's fellow 'people'," she recalled. "Sounds to me like you've got to figure out where you stand in all of that."
"I stand with you," she made clear. "That isn't going to change…"
Bo raised her brow. "But…"
Nara let her leg stretch back out, leaning back on her hands. "But I'm not as alone in this corner of the galaxy as I thought I was…and if the Ascendancy has managed to breach the Chaos…"
Bo Katan narrowed her eyes. "You think they might come for you?"
"Maybe…" Nara swallowed. "But I don't think so. My family had all but abandoned me after I proved unfit to take part in the Project that turned my sister into what she is…and no one in the Ascendancy really cared about what happened to me."
Bo watched the woman shift uncomfortably, but she could not tell if it was because she was adjusting her position…or if she was lying about that last part. Sometimes she wished she were a Jedi, and was able to just feel when the occurrence was taking place. It probably would've spared her the backstabbing she'd had to endure throughout her most recent years.
She ignored it. This seemed to be the perfect place for them to shift to the here and now anyway.
"Now that you're back, we're going to leave Dantooine at first light," Bo said, catching her eye. "We've got people to visit."
Nara gave her a solemn nod, and then rose to her feet. "Looks like I better go get some rest, then. Thanks for hearing me out."
Bo inclined her head. "Any time."
Nara would need that rest, certainly. Where they were going…it wouldn't be an easy day in the slightest.
Chimaera – 2 BBY
"And now extend."
Nerah did her best to follow the medical droid's instructions, but her swollen elbow made her yelp in pain as she tried to extend it as requested. The droid recanted its request, gently pressing against her inflated flesh with its appendages…a touch that still made her wince in pain. The bacta tank sessions had done much to heal the auxiliary damage around her body, but the stomp against her elbow had been where the most severe damage had taken place. After two surgeries and many days of physical therapy, she was certainly on her way back to full functionality. She'd actually been lucky…as if the section seals has not been there to hold the shape of her elbow in place, she very likely would've lost her arm entirely.
The thought of that was enough to frighten her, so she stowed it away. Still, her arm would be scarred for life, and those scars would be a reminder of the man who had given them to her…a man she was slowly learning to hate. That was twice now he had interfered with her missions, and how Thrawn had ever predicted his arrivals was even more puzzling. The man was an enigma, indecipherable in his nature according to Separatist records…and yet if it hadn't been for Thrawn, she probably would've never been able to beat him in the first place.
Did she beat him?
Nerah snorted to herself as she continued to let the medical droid do its work. Not a chance. There was no reported confirmation of his death, nor should she expect one. If she'd learned anything from her first two encounters with the man…it was that he was extremely difficult to kill.
One day, she knew. One day she'd run her blade straight through his heart, and the Iron Demon would be no more.
"Your swelling has decreased 20% since your last visit," the droid said, releasing her arm to return it to her sling. "I suggest more medication to help speed the process, as well as maintaining its immobilization."
"How much longer until I can go back in the field?" Nerah asked, already knowing the answer, but seeking some confirmation.
"Three to four days at the earliest. Two weeks at the latest. Of course, Imperial protocol states that your commanding officer can still call upon you if he or she deems it necessary."
She swallowed. That was a much larger window than she wanted…but maybe she'd be lucky, and Thrawn wouldn't need to call on her until beyond that timeframe. She didn't think he would call upon her before then anyhow…but they lived in very uncertain times.
The door opened, and on cue, Thrawn stepped through.
"Commander Nerah," he greeted. "I trust your recovery is continuing to run smoothly?"
Nerah nodded, just as she finished securing her arm in the sling and the medical droid had moved to another patient. "Hopefully, I will be back to full mobility in about four days," she reported, and then felt a hint of embarrassment. "I'm…sorry it's taking so long."
Thrawn frowned. "This is far beyond your control, Nerah," he assured her. "Besides, I had already planned multiple contingencies should your battle against the Wraith turn out unfavorably. Your field services will not be needed for the immediate future."
It was a nice sentiment, but she still felt useless.
"There has to be something I can do to contribute," she insisted, not bothering to hide her slight scowl at the situation…and then realized she had once again become too comfortable speaking to him. "…um…sir."
Thrawn nodded. "There is," he said, gesturing for her to follow. "Come. There is something you must see."
Nerah had definitely wondered what exactly Thrawn had found on Azure that was worth all the trouble she had to go through. She hadn't necessarily asked, being outside of consciousness for the past few days, and it was truthfully none of her business. If Thrawn was just another Imperial Grand Admiral, she'd most likely have been reprimanded several times for the manner in which she spoke to him. It was all instinctual, she reminded herself, but there was no excuse for it, and it didn't look good to her peers if she was taking advantage of the relationship she had with her commanding officer.
Then again, the Empire was filled with sycophants and bootlickers who definitely altered their tone depending on which commanding officer they spoke to. Nerah and Thrawn conversing as if they were friends would probably just be seen as more of the same…but it didn't matter to her. The simple fact was, Nerah was far from the same as her peers in appearance and status. As a marine Commander, Nerah answered only to Commodore Faro or Thrawn himself, and it was no secret that the higher ups tended to have more relaxed relationships, especially if each of the figures in question enjoyed each other's company.
She rolled her eyes to herself. It was silly, really…a personal preference more than anything else. She'd speak to Thrawn the way she felt was proper, and if he thought she was being too casual, he'd tell her. Simple.
Unable to fully wear her armor without assistance, Nerah had instead changed into a black version of Imperial dress greys; a side gift granted to her for her promotion. She hardly ever wore it, but she figured it was better than a sports bra and medical pants. The boots were a little tight around her feet, but she figured if Commodore Faro could wear them every day, then she could wear them for one little briefing.
"I've…never seen anything like it outside of an antique shop, Admiral," Faro noted, looking down upon the cubical archaic transmitter Thrawn had taken from the safe house on Azure. "Is this really what the rebels were using to communicate?"
Thrawn was standing just beside her, his arms crossed in thought as his eyes glazed over the object. "That is our theory, however we have noted multiple failsafes in our initial scans that conflict with tampering. We will not be able to send out a transmission without an optical, thumb and voice print…not to mention the fact that we do not know the frequencies needed to access certain rebel cells."
Faro squinted as she began to study it herself, and this was the part in which Nerah knew she was supposed to offer insight. Unfortunately, she still had no idea what she was looking at. Not even back during her days with the Ascendancy had she seen tech this old.
"How does it even reach long distances?" Nerah queried. "I feel this may require comm buoys."
"That, we have deciphered," Thrawn confirmed. "Do you see it, Commodore?"
His first officer studied it further, and then afforded him a nod. "It's not a comms device, but a comm scrambler. It makes the data so incomprehensible that the Empire believes it is nothing but solar wind interference, and only its sister devices can interpret the nonsense."
Nerah mentally grimaced. How did she not see that? It seemed straightforward enough of an explanation…although as she thought on it, she realized she would've still been staring at it cluelessly if it hadn't been for Faro's insight.
"That last point is still up for debate, but that is my conclusion as well," Thrawn agreed. "Unfortunately, until we discover how to bypass its security, the device itself is mostly useless to us."
Nerah frowned. Then what was the point of the entire thing? To confirm that the rebels were using old devices to scramble their comms? That felt rather obvious.
"Do you have a comment, Commander?" Thrawn asked, pulling Nerah's glowing red eyes to his own. "You seem distressed."
She considered keeping it to herself…but saw no use in it. "It just seems like we're still where we were before we went to Azure, Admiral…and judging by what it cost us," she motioned towards her currently useless arm. "I feel as if we only lost from this endeavor."
Thrawn fixed her gaze with an expression of slight disappointment, which nearly made Nerah commit the mistake of looking down in shame. "Commander, do you not recall what we deciphered before we even entered the arcology on Azure?"
Nerah blinked, digging through her memories the best she could. A lot of them were hazy, especially since her emotions had run so high when she had pressed her barrel against…
No, no…not now!
It was too late. Nara's name reentered her conscience, and Nerah felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Her own sister was an enemy of the Empire…and that meant no matter what she did, Nerah would be forced to kill her one day. Her own sister…
Her own sister. Nara…virtually her own spitting image, had looked back at Nerah with such fear that her eyes had blazed themselves into Nerah's brain forever. She'd tried everything she could to just go through with the inevitable and be rid of it, but she knew she would never pull that trigger…not if she had to look into her sister's eyes as she did it. If it weren't for her necessity to complete Thrawn's plan and hold off the Wraith…it might've been different, and perhaps through all that rage she felt, it would've numbed her enough to do what had to be done.
Who was she kidding? Nerah was a solider…but she wasn't a murderer, even less of a kinslayer. It all made her feel so helpless…
"Sir…" Faro whispered to Thrawn, but Nerah's sharp ears caught it.
"Give her time," he insisted. "I may have to speak with her on this subject in private. The ordeal she suffered on Azure was more than just…physically taxing."
"No," Nerah shook her head, finally getting ahold of herself. "We discovered, that since the traps had been so specifically fine-tuned, that there had to be a spy implanted in or aware of the Chimaera's mandate."
"Indeed," Thrawn inclined his head. "Continue."
Nerah pursed her lips. "We…also discovered that the second super solider, Banshee, is still active, since they used ultraviolet beams for the traps, and umbarans can see into that range," she paused, sifting through the memories for what Thrawn was trying to get at. "You drew them out with our own trap, deployed the dark troopers and slipped away during the battle, while I engaged them on my own…engaged Wraith on my own," she amended, and then felt her eyes widen. "What happened to Banshee?"
"She attempted to stop my advance to their safehouse," Thrawn revealed. "However, her impulsiveness proved far too easy to exploit. I was able to render her unconscious with an energy net as she rushed into the safehouse. Off her, I took a sample of the gaseous compound required to keep her alive, which was why she never was able to remove her helmet, unlike her counterpart. Unfortunately, she came to far too quickly for me to end her life…but since her supply of gas had fallen too low to sustain her, she was forced to flee as my sharpshooter fired upon her."
It took a moment for Nerah to realize that her jaw had been slowly opening wider and wider as he went on. "Admiral…that was…risky," she suppressed a scowl, realizing she had no place scolding him for what he had done.
"Indeed," he agreed, and then revealed the metal capsule that was glowing dark pink from inside. "This is a gaseous version of Venisium, denoted -313, and after the Clone War, its production has become scarce. It is made from a mineral that only exists on an unpopulated planet in the Tion Cluster…not far from the major shipping hub in the region."
Faro shifted, her eyes glistening. "The planet Lothal? That's Governor Pryce's sector, isn't it? Do you think she is supplying this compound to keep this…Banshee alive?"
Thrawn shook his head. "I do not, but it was the last planet in which the Chimaera stopped before beginning our journey to Azure. I believe our spy is implanted in her administration, and has been coordinating with Fulcrum to keep their supply from running short. Based on the secure secrecy of our previous missions, this seems like the most logical explanation."
"But that doesn't mean it's the correct one," Nerah warned, to which Thrawn actually gave her a small smile.
"Yes," he agreed. "But it certainly warrants investigation. Commodore, if you will, inform the bridge that we will set course for the planet Lothal within the next few days, four at the latest. We wish to give our Commander enough time to assist our efforts properly."
Nerah held back a glower, and then realized there was no point to it. Thrawn would just tell her this was all part of the plan, but he didn't have to make it seem like she was the only one holding back the operation. She could shoot perfectly straight with one hand, and the thought had her give in.
"Admiral…I respectfully request that we head to Lothal as soon as possible. My well being is not as important as the Chimaera's security."
Thrawn observed her for a moment, and she was surprised to see him even consider it. Maybe her initial assumption was wrong, and this was all about her…but why would he do that? He would risk their entire operational security just to ensure she had enough time to heal?
"Your sacrifice is noted, Commander," Thrawn said, his voice sincere. "However, I will need you at your best in the coming weeks. You play a pivotal role in this, and the entire crew of the Chimaera recognizes that…and also that this chosen path is not…special treatment."
Nerah looked to Faro, and she nodded. "I concur with the Grand Admiral. Our operational strength is down 15% when only you are out of commission, our analysts say…and personally, I feel a lot safer when you have two good arms."
They both shared a slight smile, and Nerah bowed her head. "Alright, Admiral, but may I request we shorten the time from four days to two?"
"Let's make it three then," Thrawn countered. "I will need time to study Lothal and become familiar with our potential enemies. That is my final offer."
Nerah nodded. "Yes, Admiral."
"Very good. Commodore, I will likely call you to my office within the hour. Until then, you both are dismissed."
Kom'rk-class Fighter – 2 BBY
"You have confirmation that he's not there," Bo Katan asked again, looking down at the holographic projection of Ahsoka Tano. "Our lives might hang on your certainty."
The togruta fixed her with an unblinking look. "Bo…Maul is dead."
Her answer flew over Bo Katan's head, and she leaned in. "What do you mean he's dead?"
"I mean, his body was found on Tatooine by one of my agents…" she trailed off, but never continued again.
Bo Katan felt her fingers go limp as the reality set in, and even her skepticism began to fade away. Ahsoka, so far, had never been wrong. Even what happened on Botajef was still solid intel, which meant that if she was saying Maul was dead…
Maul was dead.
Burn in hell.
If that were true…then he was…and finally her sister could rest. The monster who had single-handedly destroyed everything she'd ever loved had been repaid, his body left as carrion for the scavengers under the scorching Tatooine sun. Everything she had ever done…it was…it had all been…
Bo Katan fell into the seat beside her, shutting her eyes as a laugh worked its way up her throat. Maul was dead. Mandalore was finally free of his influence…finally.
"Who killed him?" Bo asked, still with a small smile on her face.
Ahsoka met her with a concerned glance, and then looked away. "I…can't tell you that, Bo."
Another way of saying a Jedi.
"His enclave is there on Dathomir. You'll find the Darksaber there," Ahsoka flipped back to the subject. "And I've been on this line too long."
Bo frowned, pulled from her blissful trance, and looked down towards the comm scrambler attached to her commlink. "What's wrong?"
Ahsoka shook her head. "Nothing. Things have just gotten more precarious. That's all," she said, and then reached for the switch. "Good luck."
Her image faded, and Bo Katan was alone again.
Maul was dead.
Remaining in her seat and disconnecting the scrambler, Bo Katan chuckled for a long time…hiding the few tears that leaked from her eyes.
Nara almost had whiplash as the fighter lurched forward suddenly, and then lost all its momentum in a short, neck straining time. Holding on to her seat harness, she slowly looked over to Alhara in the pilot's chair, who blushed with embarrassment.
The chiss chuckled. "You don't need to pull the throttle back that far," she eased. "Slow and steady, girl…slow and steady."
"Okay," Alhara breathed, reaching for the lever with her smaller hands, and then slowly pulled it back, allowing the ship to accelerate at a softer speed through space. "Like that?"
"Exactly," Nara praised. "Now, slow us down, nice and—ugh!" she whipped forward again as the fighter screamed to a halt, rustling the various loose trinkets around the cockpit. Once again, she winced, looking back to Alhara. "Easy on the breaks there, sister."
Alhara let out a nervous chuckle. "Sorry."
The door to the hold opened just as the ruckus ceased, and in strode Bo Katan. "Is someone trying to shear my ship in half?" she commented, her tone much more chipper than Nara was used to…fully complimented by a light, playful punch to Alhara's shoulder.
The girl didn't seem to know how to react…neither did Nara, frankly, but eventually took the jest in stride. "Ah…sorry, Bo," she scratched her head bashfully as she began to rise from the chair. "I'll do extra reps to make up for it."
Bo Katan gently grasped her shoulder and pushed her back into the seat. "This one's on the house. Keep at it."
Alhara furrowed her brow in slight confusion, but didn't protest her acceptance. "Uh…sure!" she nodded, resituating herself, now being even more careful with the controls.
Nara turned in her chair as Bo took the one behind her, taking note of the grin that still hadn't left her comrade's face. "You're looking a little less grumpy today."
"There's not as much to glower about," Bo quipped, leaning forward in her seat. "Maul is dead."
Nara froze, looking to Alhara to make sure she was focused on her piloting, and then leaned in, lowering her voice. "The one who killed your sister?"
Bo Katan nodded, letting out a small chuckle through her nose. Nara smiled back at her, wishing she could experience the full range of emotion she would never be able to share, and did her best to look as pleased as she could. "Don't you realize what this means?"
All Nara knew about Maul was that he had taken control of Death Watch and subsequently Mandalore, but her details were all hearsay from that point forward. Deciphering where Bo Katan was going with this wasn't what made her pause, as it was more her inability to comprehend this complete change in her friend's demeanor. Bo never acted this jovial about anything, and someone's death, enemy or not, had never given Nara any satisfaction.
Then again, she had no idea what kind of pain this Maul had put her through, and that fact alone was enough for Nara to go along with it.
"So what happens now?" Nara asked, leaning back in her seat. "Since you…never told us where we were going."
Bo Katan mirrored her movement, her eyes peering out the viewport to the stars Alhara was guiding them through. "Now, we find where Maul's hideout was, take back the Darksaber…and take back Mandalore."
It seemed simple enough, but Nara blamed her ignorance mostly for that. The Darksaber wasn't at all unfamiliar to her, and she understood exactly what it represented. Whoever held that blade had the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne…anyone. There was no birthright, ideally anyway. Nara was sure some played favorites, but no one was disqualified from becoming Mandalore's next ruler. Not that she ever would, but there was nothing stopping Nara herself from trying to lay claim to it, even if Bo Katan were far and away the better choice.
Was she?
She mentally grimaced. Stop it. Power had never interested her. If it had…she'd be in her sister's place right now.
Perfect. Reminded of her sister again.
"You…don't think that's wise?" Bo Katan gave her a suspicious look.
"No!" Nara shook her head, affirming her answer without a doubt. "I mean…yes, it's fine. Mandalore deserves a leader like you."
Bo Katan frowned. "Me? No…no, not me," she turned away, her joy seeming to evaporate in an instant. "Someone. I can't just take the Darksaber and declare myself Mand'alor. That's not how it works."
Nara furrowed her brow. "Why not? It's just a lousy sword—"
"It is not just a lousy sword!" she bit back, and then was shoved forward by Alhara's breaks, while Nara merely was pressed back into her chair. Bo Katan scowled at the girl, making her quiver slightly in fear at her mistake.
"S-sorry…I thought—"
"It's okay, Alhara," Nara assured, flashing Bo Katan a slight glare. "Just keep trying at it. Don't worry about us."
"Okay…" Alhara said, slowly turning away with quivering arms of anxiety.
Lowering her voice again, Nara returned her attention to Bo. "The hell's wrong with you?"
She winced, leaning back in her chair again. "Nothing…sorry," she apologized. "But as I said, the Darksaber must be earned, not found. All we are doing is securing it back into Mandalore's hands. Once that's done, we'll have to find someone capable of wielding it."
Nara shrugged. "I still don't see why you can't wield it."
"It's not that I can't wield it, it's that…" she trailed off, once again losing Nara's gaze…but even then she could see the hurt. There was a chapter in Bo's life that had so much pain that not even Nara had become aware of it yet, and it had to do with when she had been betrayed by Gar Saxon and his spineless Imperial cowards. She'd never revealed that before…and Nara had never dared to ask.
With how happy she had just seen Bo Katan a moment ago, she didn't want to ruin it now.
"You don't want to," Nara finished for her. "Or you don't feel you're worthy."
Bo Katan sighed. "I had my chance. It came and went. I failed. I feel that's all the indication I need that I'm not the leader we're looking for."
Nara snorted, shaking her head. "Load of bullshit if you ask me," giving her a smile. "I've been around the others. They all look to you, even if they won't admit it."
"That…doesn't mean anything," Bo protested, looking away.
"Sure it does. You think all those people don't feel the same way you do? That some asshole bent over backwards for the Empire, and sold out his entire culture just to backstab you?" Nara said, leaning forward and demanding her gaze. "Bo, you're already Mand'alor and you don't even realize it."
She didn't respond immediately, mulling her words.
"A wise woman once said: 'Just because you feel and smell like bantha dung, doesn't mean you are bantha dung'."
Bo Katan nodded slightly, then looked to her quizzically. "Who said that?"
Nara swallowed, pretending to think on it. "I…don't remember."
"Are you trying to phrase your own words as if they were wise council?" Bo asked, giving her a suspicious sideways glance.
The chiss shook her head with mild offense. "I would never do that…to you."
"Right," her mentor deadpanned. "Well, I guess if you didn't feed me your daily dose of bullshit, I'd think you were an imposter."
Nara cocked her head. "Are you sure?"
They stared for a moment, watching each flinching neck muscle, until they both reached for their blasters and pointed with the same grip.
Bo Katan chuckled as they held their poses. "Same grip I taught you. Made up for whatever dysfunctional excuse the chiss had burned into your brain. Not even a clone could match that."
Nara lowered her blaster and slid it into its holster. "I'm improving your technique."
A flashing light from the ship's dash pulled them out of their conversation, followed by a determined yelp from Alhara. "Uh…guys…I think I might've got us trapped in the planet's gravity well."
Bo Katan flicked her head to Nara, and the chiss quickly spun her chair around and took command of the ship. "No worries, girl. You did great…now just let good old Nara guide us in."
"The old part is definitely right," Alhara said bitterly.
"Hey," Bo Katan lightly tapped her knuckles against the girl's shoulder. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Alhara blushed, realizing she didn't think her little joke through all the way. "I was just kidding!"
Nara laughed, just as she got control of their descent towards Dathomir. "Careful what you say, kiddo. You never know if it will instantly explode in your face."
"Yeah, yeah," Alhara waved off. "Sure thing, good old Nara."
Chimaera, Orbiting Lothal – 2 BBY
Senior Agent Elena Markov had flown into Lothal as quickly as she could, directly at the request of Colonel Yularen…at last freeing her from the subordinance of High Agent Gideon. After spending two years forced to watch his ruthless efficiency and intolerance of failure, she had grown quite wary of completing her tasks correctly. It was difficult to be rid of that paranoia even after she had arrived on the Chimaera, the ship in which she'd done some of the best work she was most proud of for the Empire.
Following Yularen through the halls of the star destroyer without uttering a word, per the discretion parameters they had both agreed upon, they entered Thrawn's office. It was the same art-filled spotless gallery she remembered, its beauty much more pleasing than she last remembered…perhaps because there was a slew of new pieces displayed along the walkway.
"Your silence is appreciated, Senior Agent," Yularen praised, just as they passed by Thrawn's personal dojo, taking note of his strenuous combat workout between two combat droids. He moved gracefully and purposefully, spotting every swing and exploiting every opening the droids offered. It was quite impressive…very impressive.
"Of course, Colonel," she nodded, leaving Thrawn to his exercise. "I understand you asked for me specifically. May I enquire what the trouble is?"
Yularen stopped before the door to Thrawn's main office. "I'm afraid that is for the Grand Admiral to reveal. All I can do now is warn you to be on your guard."
Subversives, then.
It wasn't hard to deduce what he meant, and Yularen knew it. She inclined her head. "I understand."
As they entered Thrawn's office, Markov had to do much to contain herself in front of the Colonel, greeted by a sight certainly relieving to sore eyes.
"Agent Markov," Nerah greeted with a smile, dressed in full armor with an E-11D held over her waist in a resting grip. "I…don't know if you remember me."
"Of course I remember you," Markov assured her, offering a hand. "Commander."
Nerah's expression lit for a moment, before returning to its professional joy, shaking with her right hand. She couldn't help but notice the woman's left arm begin to shiver slightly as it held the barrel of the blaster steady, and it only stopped once their handshake had concluded and her second grip had been resecured.
"Congratulations on your own promotion as well," Nerah praised, wincing slightly as she turned to address Yularen, offering him a crisp salute. "Colonel."
The shaking in her arm returned.
"A pleasure to see you again as well, Commander," Yularen traded his own handshake. "I remember all those years ago when you began with that training course on Coruscant. You're a credit to your uniform."
"Thank you, sir," she blushed slightly, but the struggle in her voice made its way out, and the shaking once again stopped when her arm was able to reaffirm. "I am…sorry I cannot get into why you have been called here. Unfortunately, we will have to wait for the Admiral for us to begin."
Markov studied her for a moment while her attention was still on Yularen. Nerah was much more subdued than she remembered…and the shaking symptoms suggested ailment. An injury, perhaps?
Before she could enquire, the door behind them opened, and Thrawn stepped through in full officer garb. "Thank you all for coming at such haste. I apologize for the emergency call, but I believe this situation is dire enough to justify it."
Thrawn took a seat at his desk, and gestured for the two of them to take the open ones across from him, while Nerah assumed a guardian stance just behind him.
"There is a spy in our midst," he revealed. "Feeding weapons shipments to the rebel informant, Fulcrum…and perhaps today we will discover their true identity."
