MEMORIES III

Bo Katan Kryze

Vizsla roared as his arms swiped across the table, spilling countless hours of planning and strategy onto the floor in disgust.

"That backstabbing bastard!" he shouted. "I swear on Mandalore's name, I'll kill him."

Bo Katan hardly felt any better than he, but rage fits weren't really her style, especially in front of her leader. Pre Vizsla had ample reason to be upset, but that was no excuse for her to join him in his tirade.

But her blood was boiling inside. Months of anticipation gone in an instant, swept away by a meddling Republic interloper who had managed to convince the Senate that the Republic did not need to invade the currently neutral Mandalore, thus preventing Death Watch, with the Separatists, from taking it back in one, swift maneuver. Months of waiting to see the look on her sister's face when Pre Vizsla took the throne, rerouting her people down the path they were meant to walk.

All of it utterly wasted.

"There will be another time, Vizsla," Rondir Ordo assured, grasping the man's shoulder. "We should take this chance to regroup."

"Regroup…regroup?!" Pre spat, igniting the Darksaber and splitting the table in two, making Bo blink from its blaring light. "We wouldn't have needed to if Count Dooku had merely held up his end of the deal!"

"Then let's kill him, Uncle!" Pre Vizsla's much younger nephew, Arrum, insisted with a closed fist held out in front. "Let's show the Separatists never to betray Death Watch again!"

"If you wish to get us all killed, boy, go right ahead," Gar Saxon waved his hand in dismissal, situated just beside Rondir. "We don't have the numbers to kill a Sith Lord."

"Coward!" Arrum cursed, pointing his finger in accusation, which only earned a growl from both Saxon and Rondir as they stood off.

Bo Katan rolled her eyes.

"Idiots, the lot of them," Ursa Wren whispered into her ear, just to her left as the shouting match ensued. "So fixated on fixing a problem out of reach."

Out of reach.

Too much noise.

"Enough, all of you!" Bo Katan stepped forward, her voice ringing throughout the tent bringing all voices silence. "If we'd shown this kind of resolve to the Duchess, we would've taken Mandalore months ago!"

Arrum scowled at her, his eyes filled with that same sociopathic cold the teenager never feared to show. She met him with her own, and she watched that cold melt away, his head turning with distain.

"Pre Vizsla will decide what we do next," Bo Katan inclined her head, taking a step back. Vizsla sent her a look of gratitude, and then retook the floor.

"Nicely done," Ursa praised.

"Thanks," she whispered back.

"You all entrusted me to lead you back to glory…to return Mandalore to its storied warrior past by any means necessary," Pre recalled, looking much more composed than before. "While your concerns are noted, Gar, we cannot call ourselves Mandalorians if we leave any betrayal unpunished. I will take any warriors who are willing to live up to their name with me to exact our just revenge against Count Dooku and his contingent of weak-willed cowards."

There were murmurs among the assembled leaders of their respective clans, some rustling among the observers as well. Bo Katan, for one, was actually in agreement with Rondir and Saxon. Count Dooku wasn't their enemy, and if they wasted resources trying to take his head, they may not have enough to turn back to their true enemy when the time came. Even if this opportunity had come and gone, that didn't mean another wasn't right around the corner, and she imagined Vizsla would only be even more furious if they were forced to miss that one as well.

Despite all that, Bo Katan could see the resolve in her leader's eyes. Right now, all he could think about was how Dooku had left them for dead, certainly with New Mandalorian forces prepping to retaliate against their exposed hideout on Concordia. As that realization set in, she felt that anger seep back into her, overriding her original common sense for a more salivating chance at revenge…a chance she had been dreaming of earning against her sister for years now.

To hell with regrouping. If Pre Vizsla thought making Dooku pay was their best course of action, then she was all for it. He'd never been wrong before…and Bo Katan didn't think he would start now, in fact she couldn't even believe she had questioned him in the first place. She owed him everything, and the least she could do was back him up.

"I'll go," she stepped forward once more, bringing the murmurs to a halt. "I say we teach the old man a lesson."

Ursa, to no surprise, followed her example. "So will I."

"And I," a few others joined in.

By the time the agreements came in, only Rondir and Saxon were left remaining, and the warrior from Clan Ordo, albeit reluctantly, nodded his head. "Very well."

Saxon scoffed, crossing his arms. "I suppose I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Good," Pre smiled, and then raised his voice. "Then ready our troops! We shed the Count's blood by week's end!"

Finally…someone's blood.


By the end of the week, just as Pre had promised, they were situated at a mesa's edge on the outskirts of the Zygerrian capital, watching as a Separatist convoy left the city's gates.

"I can't help but point out there are more droids than we thought," Ursa whispered just behind Bo Katan as they lied in wait, hidden behind various natural cover.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a couple extra marks," Bo Katan quipped, keeping her blaster handy. "The tin heads can hardly tell up from down."

"They can still shoot a blaster," Saxon warned, situated not far from the two Nite Owls. "And there are plenty of them to kill you."

Bo Katan prepped her retort, but Pre Vizsla's raised fist brought her to silence. "Both of you shut up. The Count is in that speeder, and that's all that matters. You all know the plan. Kryze and Wren, you're with me. Saxon, Ordo, Arrum, you're on cleanup. Get those damn droids away from our prize. Dooku is mine."

"We'll get it done," Bo promised, falling into position as the convoy made its approach. She lowered her antenna with a pull, and zoomed in.

The convoy was certainly more than they expected, but not as far as make and design. Six vehicles. One central, where the Count was certainly situated, two in the front, one on each side, and one in the back…each armored and definitely filled with battle droids.

Easy enough.

"On my mark," Pre whispered, and rose to his feet, just as the convoy began to make its way below them. "Now!"

Bo Katan followed his lead, felling the wind rush against her armor as she fell, the intensity of the coming battle filling her veins with adrenaline. She felt a smile curl her lips as her jetpack activated, slowing her descent just enough to land atop the armored transport. Their appearance was fast enough to catch the initial defenses off guard, and Bo and Ursa both utilized that hesitation to fire their EMP bolts into the transport cannons. They whined and drooped, deactivated with time to spare as the others entered the scene, doing the same to the forward transports. Some, however, weren't fast enough, and faced the full fury of the defensive canons tearing their armored bodies to shreds.

Flicking their mini IEDs upon the transport, Bo Katan and Ursa jetted to the central transport, triggering the explosion and watching as it tumbled far behind the continuing convoy in a spout of fire and dust. Vizsla was waiting, his finger over his helmet comm.

"Blow the canyon!" he ordered.

In the next instant, the tops of the canyon before them erupted in balls of flame, spitting boulders down into the path of the convoy as it approached. Metal screeched as the front transport was buried under the rubble, forcing the others to grind to a halt.

That was when the super battle droids poured out of the remaining vehicles. Blasterfire raged as the skirmish began, the droids taking heavy losses, but far outnumbered the Death Watch commandos currently present.

Vizsla wasted no time, blowing the hatch into the central transport and sliding in, Bo Katan and Ursa right behind him.

The quiet of this interior was a stark contrast to the deafening battle outside, not to mention its rather luxurious tone. The carpet was soft to the step, and Bo Katan almost felt a bit of pity her boots had to soil it…until she quickly remembered why she was here.

"Quaint," Ursa regarded, her blasters in hand. "No wonder the Count is so soft."

Bo Katan huffed in agreement, hunched over as they squeezed through the tight corridor and into the main cabin. Inside was a table, its silverware and pottery scattered around the floor from the sudden stop, and Bo nearly collided into Vizsla's back as he paused.

"Pre Vizsla," Count Dooku brushed off his shoulder, still looking eloquent, despite the predicament. "I do hope you have a reason for bursting into my caravan."

Vizsla bowed and removed his helmet. "You left us for dead, Count," he spat. "No betrayal can go unpunished. Defend yourself if you will!" the Darksaber shimmered to life in his hand, and its glow only seemed to elicit a smile from the old man.

"I do miss the old ways," Dooku removed his cape, revealing his own blade. "However…your escort…"

"They will not interfere. You're mine, Sith," Pre growled.

"Not to worry. I have my ways of…ensuring the situation."

Bo Katan's frown was interrupted by a sharp yank that roiled her insides, her head whipping backward as she and Ursa collided into each other. Dazed, she rolled to her feet, only to feel a hard fist crash into her helmet, blurring her vision evermore until she gasped, lifted upwards with her feet dangling. It had all happened far too quickly for her to react, and when her vision finally focused…she saw it…the red optics.

Wraith.

Ursa kicked into the back of his knee, making it buckle long enough for Bo to twist her body in his grip, kicking at his head with her second leg wrapped over his arm. He let go, but Ursa's attack was cut short by his larger fist closing around hers, her grunt distinct as she was immediately overpowered. Now free, Bo Katan unsheathed her wrist blade and slashed at his armor, only to see it have minimal effect, and have her own wrist caught in his grip.

She nearly screamed as his crushing force encroached on her bones, the armored man refusing to give any letup on the two of them. Desperate, Bo angled her head towards the back end of the vehicle and let loose her rear rocket, watching it blow the hull to the outside world. Activating her jetpack, she turned and let the fumes blaze his direction, freeing herself as well as Ursa, who had the same idea. The two of them landed, drew blasters, and unleashed the most powerful salvo they could. The blaze of yellow was a wave that was followed by other Mandalorians who joined in, well aware of who they were facing…and had every intent of ridding the man from the galaxy forever. Flames jumped from wrists, smoke enveloping him until he was no longer visible, last seen holding up an arm to shield himself.

"More!" Bo Katan demanded. "More!"

Missiles joined the fray as the battle droids were dispatched, more Death Watch coming up beside the two of them to add their arsenal, leaving the ground they had left scorched…with the smell of burning flesh.

"Stop!" Bo held up her fist, and the quiet settled in as the last soundwave traveled through the canyon.

Silence…and smoke.

Ursa breathed, holding her blasters steady. "Think that was enough?"

The smoke did not shift, only continuing to slowly rise into the sky as they all waited for that final, satisfying confirmation.

A cable lurched from the smoke, wrapping around a warrior to the far left, and then was pulled screaming into the haze…and then was silent.

"Open fi—" Ursa cried, but was cut off by a high caliber round shattering her beskar and cutting into her hip, leaving her screaming in pain as she fell to one knee.

"Ursa!" Bo Katan screeched, only to watch another not be so lucky, the rounds punching through his armor and tearing his heart to shreds.

"Coward!" Arrum Vizsla cursed, firing into the smoke, only to watch more of his comrades fall to the same fire. Lightning arced from the haze…and Pre Vizsla landed on his back, his face scorched with a lightsaber slash just beside his eye.

"Fall…back…" he ordered. "Fall back!"

Jetpacks flared to life, some escaping, but many more falling to the bolt's intensity. Scooping Ursa into her arms, Bo Katan followed them, Pre Vizsla just behind with a look of humiliation and scorn ruining his expression.

She dared to peek back…the image of Count Dooku and his pet red-eyed monster forever burned into her memory.

"I can…fly…on my own," Ursa winced, holding her wound.

"Shut up and let me carry you."