CHAPTER 50

Fury of the Heir

Krownest – 1 BBY

Balancing wasn't easy, especially on such a thin surface area. There was a natural flow to it, however, almost as if the practice completely escaped one's immediate consciousness as it was mastered…and Alhara found that the most fascinating of all. On a proper training rig, as opposed to the many improvised ones she had been forced to use along the way, it was just too easy.

"I'll be damned," Rondir huffed, letting out a hearty laugh. "Took me until I was eleven to get that down as quickly," he quipped, before ramming his forearm into Arrum's shoulder. "Took you even longer."

Arrum steamed. "Fine…it's…a little impressive."

Alhara hopped down from the rig, feeling a blush manifest as she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"You hear that, kiddo? Arrum just gave you a compliment. It'll be another century until you hear one again," he jabbed, only to get pushed back by the man in grey armor.

"No great warrior ever came to be with soft-hearted compliments like 'good job'," he pointed out. "It takes grit, and an unbreakable spirit from the beginning."

"You done?" Bo Katan asked, and then turned back to Alhara. "Nice work, but now you're getting hasty. If you rush it, you'll—"

"Spin out of control when I have a jetpack," Alhara finished for her, crossing her arms. "I know, I know. Sorry."

Still, showing off a little? Totally worth it.

"Even so, Elise can do twice as many reps when it comes to your strength," Arrum pointed out. "You're going too easy on her in that regard, Kryze."

Bo Katan shrugged. "Guess we better pick up the pace."

"Triple it for good measure," Alhara suggested, closing her fists. She hated being outdone, even if Arrum was lying. If someone else, especially her age, was doing more, she had to rise to the occasion. Nothing else was acceptable.

"Ha! You have no idea what you've just unleashed," Rondir said, prompting Arrum to cross his arms with feigned indifference.

The light moment was rudely interrupted by the blaring of Bo Katan's gauntlet. It was the same one that had been used by Nara to prompt stand by orders…or silent warnings…and they were never good news. Alhara watched Bo's brow slant into focus, keying off the alert with a press and scooping up her helmet.

"What the hell is that?" Arrum asked.

"I don't know," Bo Katan shrugged. "But it's a warning. Nara has spotting something dangerous."

In the next moment, Alhara heard the common rumble of a Kom'rk-class starfighter come overhead…and another…and another. Reinforcements? But…everyone in Clan Wren was here, unless…

Warriors of Clan Wren burst into the training room, their blasters raised and quickly outnumbering them before they could even slip their helmets back on. Alhara felt a harsh hand pull her behind her mentor, and Bo Katan, Rondir and Arrum all had their backs to each other in a protective formation.

"If all of you wish to die, by all means!" Arrum shouted, blasters in hand.

"Fire that blaster, and I'll drop you where you stand," a woman growled from across the room, and Alhara had to peer through their stances to see Ursa standing at the far end, her blaster trained on the three of them. "Surrender your weapons…all of you."

Bo Katan growled. "You know you're wasting your breath, Ursa. I won't let you get away with this."

Alhara swallowed.

"There is nothing to get away with," another voice entered, and Alhara felt her toes press against the floor as Gar Saxon entered, followed by a compliment of Imperial super commandos…and Ursa's own son. "Because she is loyal…just not to you."

Valkyrie – 1 BBY

Katara, thus far, had tried to actually forgive both of her parents for the current fiasco that plagued their family…but it had proven to be far less simple than she expected. Part of her was just embarrassed, unable to face either of them after she had allegedly choked her mother with the Force. This hadn't been the first time her abilities had spiraled out of control without her knowledge, but it was definitely the most recent, and severe, case.

Right now, she didn't want to talk to her father, even if he was looking for her. She needed space…a distraction.

So instead she "hid" on the Fury, hoping it would be empty, but with most of Rava's advanced hardware and processing power stored on the ship, the android was there. Her memories of the automaton were mostly positive, as she had to care for her many times when she was much younger. Sometimes she would play chaperone…much to her displeasure as Katara could see in hindsight. However, she could always be counted on for one, elusive target.

The cold-hard truth.

"You know how I feel about intruders in my brain," Rava warned, just as Katara wandered into the VI's hub. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"

Katara winced. Of course she'd tapped into the Valkyrie's computers, data logs…and personal request files. Apparently, she had been a BB unit before she gained access to her android body, one she had constructed herself. By now, it looked fully feminine, and was nearly sleek enough to wear actual clothing. She still had the common grooves and blocky parts that was common among most droids, but easily she was the most organic-looking artificial construct Katara had ever seen.

"I don't want to talk to him right now," Katara answered, watching Rava work her scomp link, her eyes flashing intermittently.

Rava finished whatever she was doing and pulled the plug free, allowing her right arm to slide back into its normal form of a hand. "Congratulations. You've discovered my permanent demeanor when it comes to your father."

Katara snorted. "You're always picking on him."

The android rose to her feet, sliding one of the modules back into place…and had no response, seemingly returning to whatever next task she had lined up.

"Um…still getting used to picking around your own brain?" Katara asked, letting her hands settle behind her back.

Rava knelt beside another module and shook her head. "No. I only need one occurrence to adapt to a new concept."

Katara snorted. "Lucky."

No response once again…making Katara wince with the awkwardness as Rava pulled open the casing and began to scan the hardware. She had also forgotten that Rava wasn't much of a conversationalist, especially when it came to small talk.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here, or do I have to guess?" Rava said, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "The last thing I want is to suffer your father trying to scold me about 'making parenting difficult'. Really—the audacity of that insufferable incel. No offense, but how someone as smart as your mother ended up with such an insignificant morsel like him is beyond me."

Instinctually, she wanted to laugh, but then felt a little guilty about that. "Hey, my dad is smart."

Rava turned, giving her a deadpan expression.

"O-okay…fine. Maybe he does…some…stupid things—"

"Some?" Rava pressed again. "He sent your little sister to a bunch of trigger-happy meatbags with little to no intelligence whatsoever, and expected to see her again. The man has no sense."

Katara clenched her fist, her already roiling emotions beating down on her temper. "Alhara wanted to go…she…she…" she trailed off, realizing that now she was just defending something she didn't even agree with.

"You wanted to kill your mother earlier today. Does that mean you should've done it?" Rava said…and Katara felt herself die inside.

"I-I didn't want to kill her…I just…I don't…" she turned away…once again feeling that internal rage rising once again, threatening to spill over. "I don't know!"

Rava watched her for a moment, and Katara had to look away. She didn't know what to do…how to feel. Her mother, the woman who had raised her, loved her and always been there for her…had been one of the worst mass-murderers in the galaxy at one point. Was Katara wrong to love her? Was it her duty to make her mother answer for all the crimes she had committed…or had that already passed? Surely someone had come along and made her pay for it…or she herself had already atoned. If she hadn't, the Alliance would've never accepted her, and Katara would've never been born.

That had to have been the case…right?

She never noticed Rava was standing right beside her.

"Everyone here has done terrible things, Katara. Myself, your father, the Admiral, your mother…even a paragon of such virtue like Cal Kestis. Some may be worse than others, but the Empire pales all our sins in comparison," she said. "What they did to your mother…you'll never understand. She was nothing but an empty shell when I met her, despite all her power, all her wisdom…she was nothing. Hit with one jolt, and her entire demeanor would collapse," she snapped her fingers. "Just like that."

Katara blinked, looking down. "So…it's true then. The Dark Side…makes you another person?"

"I'm not entirely privy to all the nuances of the Force, but I've been able to observe and gather some valuable design feedback over the years and through my analysis. The Dark Side and Light Side of the Force seem to be conflicting energies vying for dominance over a host. These energies enhance certain traits while suppressing others, usually in direct contrast with each other—"

"Rava, I…know all this," she interrupted her. "Skip to the part with your conclusion."

"Who you are depends on your desire and your will," Rava explained. "The Dark Side is a desire for pleasure, while the Light is a desire for joy. Pleasure is more powerful, while joy is more permanent."

"Hm," Katara mused. "I never thought of it that way."

"It's from much older texts I managed to siphon from the darker areas of the Imperial Holonet. They've tried to silence such knowledge, but nothing digital can ever be deleted," Rava then chuckled to herself. "Heh…autocratic morons."

Unfortunately, Katara was too distracted to notice her joke. It had certainly felt like she was doing the right thing when she had…choked her mother…almost like a defense mechanism. There was almost natural, inherent justification…not to mention the fact that it had felt…empowering.

What is wrong with me?

"Rava…I…have all these thoughts in my head, and I don't know what to do with them," she held her temples, but didn't expect an answer.

"I know what that's like," Rava said to her surprise. "When my cognizance processors were improved, and I had gained the ability to feel emotions…I had no idea how to manage them. It's like if an infant had been born into an adult's body, unable to deal with all the raging newborn feelings all at once."

"Was it…scary?" Katara asked, looking up to her.

"Terrifying…but your mother helped me make things smaller…how to compartmentalize all those emotions into more coherent data. I'm not sure what your equivalent would be, but I can assume it would be the choice to ignore certain thoughts."

Katara almost whimpered. "It's…so hard."

"I never said it was easy…but if this is something you're struggling with, it's something you should speak to your mother about. If anyone knows how to suppress vile thoughts and emotions…it's her."

Talk to her mother again…right…because that went so well last time.

"If that bothers you, then Merrin would be another option, or perhaps Zahira."

Katara scowled. "Zahira just tells me I have to feel nothing all the time. I hate that. It makes me feel like a robot—erm—no offense."

"None taken," Rava smirked. "I am not classified as one anymore."

"Oh," Katara scratched her head bashfully. "Good."

The android's eyes flashed for a moment, and Katara could sense a presence ascending the ramp. "It seems your father has found you."

Katara grimaced.

"There you are," Xur greeted, trying to look…superficially jovial. She could tell he wasn't happy. "I asked Reyna to send you my way, but I guess the message wasn't sent."

"Oh, it was," Rava corrected, making Katara tense. "She just wished to speak to me instead."

"O-oh," he stammered, looking down to her. "Is everything okay?"

Katara huffed, crossing her arms. "What do you think, Dad?"

"Not to worry. His insight was never his strength," Rava jabbed, drawing a growing annoyance within her father. "Your daughter I think has suffered enough of your false assurances for one day. Perhaps try again tomorrow."

"I'll do what I want. She's my daughter," Xur glared. "Besides, I just wanted to see how she was doing."

Now he suddenly cared about how she felt. He didn't when she was younger, and now that they had left Artakha…he was just back to his old ways…absent from her life. All that jovial carefree attitude could never hide the fact that he cared more about…everything else than he did her.

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Dad," Katara finally just said it. "Why don't you just leave us again, and go back to work?"

"Hey, what I do is important," he pointed. "I can't just let the Empire keep expanding, otherwise you'll never be safe."

"I don't need you to protect me anymore!" Katara yelled out, and the loose bag of tools beside her feet sprawled out across the floor, rattling against the metal. Their conversation was forced into silence, allowing her to stare into her father's eyes with all the defiance she could muster.

To her surprise, his expression softened. "I know, Katara…that's why I want you to come with me."

She blinked…stunned. "What? Where?" she asked, then realized she was asking all the wrong questions. "No…why?"

Xur shrugged. "I think you've been sheltered long enough. Time to get your hands dirty."

Katara tried to pry into his mind, searching for the hint of deceit to just disprove it as another joke…but she found none. He was serious.

"M-mother said is was okay?" she asked, abruptly feeling a little giddy. "I can go…somewhere?"

"Well, she didn't say it was okay exactly, but she didn't say no," he winked, crossing his arms. "Come on. It'll be fun. Got a call from a man I thought I'd never hear from again, and I hear he's got a Jedi with him. Could be good practice for you."

Katara couldn't believe it. She'd never been able to be anywhere else besides the Valkyrie or Artakha, and finally she would be allowed to see the galaxy for what it really was. A grin worked its way onto her face. "Y-yes! Yes, please? Can we go?"

"I said yes didn't I? Go on, strap in kiddo," he waved her off.

"Wait! You can't take the Fury. I need it to complete my upgrades," Rava argued.

"Oh not to worry, Rava," Xur smirked, feigning caution. "You're coming too."

The android shivered. "L-like hell I am! I-I'm needed here, I couldn't possibly waste time on some insignificant field trip!"

"It's not a field trip, trust me, and we're gonna need you to siphon the data we're after. The Admiral's already approved the mission. Go on, check the board," he shrugged.

Rava's eyes flickered for a moment, and Katara almost giggled as a scowl broke through her expression. "Fine."

"Perfect," Xur clapped his hands together. "Let's move out."

Katara pulled at his arm. "Can I fly the ship?!"

"No."

"Awwww."

Krownest – 1 BBY

Bo Katan never let rage consume her, not since it had dominated her younger years and steered her down a dangerous path…but now, she was feeling its pull once again. She'd sent Nara as potential backup should the meeting go sour…but she never expected it to go down quite as poorly as this. Ursa had been loyal to her through everything, all the way back to their years with Death Watch, through Maul's reign of destruction, and even after Saxon had seized power. For her to betray her now…it was unforeseeable.

Unforgiveable.

"Your movements have become just as predictable as I expected, Kryze," Saxon stepped forward, his fists loose at his sides as his escort followed. "It was almost disappointing when Ursa told me you had come here seeking her help."

"Trust me, I can lighten your mood whenever you want," she glared his way, letting her indomitable will bore into his eyes, and while no one else noticed it, she watched him flinch.

Saxon smiled. "She betrayed everything you believe in to bring me here. It's…admirable," he praised, shifting his gaze towards Ursa. "Clan Wren has once again proven its usefulness to me."

"I remember a time when you had honor, Gar," Rondir reminisced, disappointment readily available in his voice. "Now you're just a puppet for your scraggly old Emperor."

"And you are nothing but a discarded shell waiting to die for a woman who has done nothing but fail our people time and time again!" Saxon bellowed, and Bo Katan felt genuine surprise at his passion…despite the words and reality. "But…you don't have to die with her, old friend."

"The only one dying here today is you, traitor," Arrum spat venom through his teeth.

Saxon chuckled. "And Rondir calls me a puppet. When are you ever going to break free from the leash still tied around your neck? Clan Vizsla is ashes now, thanks to your inability to rise on your own, constantly guided by a woman you have no respect for."

"Pre Vizsla respected her," Arrum argued, but Bo Katan could hear the hesitation. This was the moment she had always dreaded…the moment in which Arrum realized he didn't need her anymore. Ursa had always warned her she was playing with fire by keeping him around, as a hungry dog was always a viable weapon…until its hunger outweighed its loyalty.

"And Pre Vizsla is dead," Saxon continued, pacing around the three of them, although keeping himself out of arm's reach. "Because he had trust…and he was a fool. He did not acknowledge the superior power before him, just as the three of you refuse to acknowledge that the Empire has already conquered Mandalore."

"He was loyal to Mandalore," Bo Katan countered, still feeling the inherent desire to defend the man who had raised her. "What are you loyal to? Yourself? Is that all?"

Saxon stopped his pacing, situating himself back in the spot he had begun. "A dead woman's questions mean nothing to me. Now, as I said, surrender your weapons, or we shall execute you one by one…beginning with the child."

Bo Katan felt her eyes widen, pulling the girl closer to her…and again, by then she knew she was too late. She had given him exactly what he wanted; the lever he could pull to finally break her resolve.

"I figured that might entice you," Saxon sneered.

She scanned the area, desperately hoping to find anything, but there were just too many of them, even for her. That many trained guns would be plenty to punch through her armor before any of her shots punched through theirs', and in the process, Alhara would certainly be killed.

But this…this was for Mandalore. Its entire fate rested on her shoulders, and the Darksaber could not fall into Saxon's hands, or the Empire would win.

The war would be lost, but Alhara might live.

Lose the war, or lose Alhara. Both were unacceptable…but which was the lesser evil?

Alhara pressed against her hip, looking up to her with pleading eyes. "Bo…you can't surrender to him. You can't give up!"

Bo Katan blinked, frozen in that moment. "I…I can't…"

I can't choose.

Saxon laughed. "You see, girl? She cares more about that Darksaber than she cares about you. Stings, doesn't it?"

Alhara glared at him. "I have nothing to say to you, traitor."

"Hm," Saxon shrugged. "A shame. I was considering letting you live, so that you could be trained to become one of us instead…but I'm afraid it seems her lies have rooted themselves too deeply within you," he flicked his head to his men. "Kill her."

The super commandos stepped forward, raising their rifles towards Alhara…and Bo Katan made her choice.

Blaster bolts clanged against beskar as she wrapped Alhara in her embrace, dropping her blaster as she held her tight, feeling the heat of each bolt pounding against her back. It was unrelenting…terrifying, but she held firm, even without the protection of her helmet.

She would never let go.

"Enough!"

The room went quiet, and the heat subsided. Boots pounded between her and Saxon, and Bo felt herself pull away from Alhara, the girl still breathing in her grip.

"You…saved me?" she asked.

Bo Katan nodded, brushing the girl's hair from her eyes with a gloved thumb. "I would never abandon you."

Alhara gave her an approving nod, and looked past her with intrigue, drawing her own gaze to the commotion.

Standing between them was Ursa.

"I will not allow this in my own home," she growled, holding steadfast before him. "Are you heartless?!"

"I'm doing what needs to be done," Saxon answered. "Clan Kryze is a threat to the Empire, and must be eradicated, all the way down to it's last, breathing member. If you would like to join them, I would be more than happy to oblige you."

One of the super commandos shifted, removing his helmet to reveal himself as Ursa's son. "Governor, wait! It doesn't have to be this way."

"Unfortunately for your mother, Tristan, she just protected a known traitor to the Empire, and thus she and her Clan must be made an example of," Saxon declared, and each of his men angled their blasters towards the warriors of Clan Wren, prompting Ursa to stand ever taller. "However…you have served me well. I will give you a choice: stand with me, or die with your family."

Bo Katan rose to her feet, drawing eyes, but now she felt the odds begin to shift in their favor. Grasping at Alhara's arm, she gave her the prompt to stay close.

Tristan leveled his blaster at Saxon.

"Then it appears Clan Wren ends here," Saxon sentenced, raising his blaster. "Open fire!"

The far glass wall shattered as a jetpack roared into the room, followed by the familiar voice she had been waiting for.

"Surprise, fuckface!" Nara barged in, unloading a full salvo from her twin blasters from above, catching one of the super commandos unawares.

Saxon snarled. "Kill the alien!"

It was insanity. The warriors of Clan Wren jumped to Nara's aid as soon as the super commandos opened fire upon her, and before long, it was a full-on firefight.

Pulling out one of her blasters, she grasped Alhara's hand…and smacked it into her palm.

Alhara blinked. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Bo Katan nodded, and rose to her feet, reaching for the Darksaber, only to grasp at air. Looking down at her belt, only then did she notice it was gone.

"Bo!" Ursa cried out too late, and Bo Katan felt the wind from her lungs disappear in an instant as something careened into her side, and carried her through the hole in the glass Nara had created. Desperately gasping for breath, she slammed into the snow, rolling over and onto the frozen lake as whatever had hit her released. Protecting her head, she pulled her body inwards, riding the roll until she slid to a halt, the frigid cold drawing her face numb as she did so.

Taking a breath, she rose to one knee, and was forced to raise both gauntlets to hold off the screeching slash from the Darksaber, its blade now wielded by Gar Saxon.

The man who betrayed her…who betrayed all of Mandalore. She'd watch that blade fall into the wrong hands once before, and she'd stood idly by as it happened.

Never again.

Saxon growled as he pressed the blade against her beskar gauntlets, the ring of its heat growing ever louder as she felt it against her skin.

"No more games, Kryze!" Saxon bellowed, the sparks of the blade stinging her skin. "Today you join your sister!"

He pulled off and swung again, but this time Bo Katan somersaulted away into a handspring and back to her feet, blocking the follow up with her gauntlet. Her wrist blade unsheathed, and she swiped at his neck, only to catch air as he fell back on the defensive, catching her next errant swing with an armbar and trying to stab the ancient blade home. Taking advantage of his overcommitment, she slid out of the way and pressed herself into his chest, pulling at his arm as she tried to knock the blade free from his grip.

Sharp pain shot through her as a knife blade sunk into her hip, earning a cry from her before managing to free the hilt from his grip, and it skipped along the ice before spinning to a stop a ways from them. Grunting, she spun around, finding that putting weight on her left side was becoming more and more difficult as the fight persisted. Instead, she embraced that pain, using it as fuel to enhance her dogmatic focus as they traded swipes with their metal edges without success.

Time to change the game.

Activating her jetpack, she unleashed her flamethrower as she backed off, nearly engulfing him before he rolled away, firing back with a wrist blaster. His blasts ricocheted harmlessly off her wrist-bound holo-shield as she fired back with her own blaster, tracing his movements until finally landing a few to his chest. His armor held, but his reaction to the direct hits told her that his Imperial armor didn't have the same legendary durability carried by pure beskar.

Now was her chance.

Angling forward, she blazed towards the Darksaber resting atop the ice, reaching out desperately to secure the weapon that could end this threat forever…and redeem all of those she had lost to Saxon's treachery.

Saxon rocketed directly into her, and slammed his free fist into her wound as she held him off, drawing a hefty scream from her lungs. They landed, now with him atop her, and his blade coming down atop her head. She reached out, grasping his wrist with both hands just as the tip was about to kiss her forehead. His fist slammed into her wound again, and she grunted, the pain now taking its toll as she felt herself slipping, but her combined strength of both arms was plenty to hold off his one. Obviously, Saxon understood this, and with drool seeping from his mouth, he leaned forward and pressed on the blade with both hands.

"Ugh…die!" he growled; his eyes rancid with rage as the blade pressed forward. She held strong, keeping it off her skin as her wound pulsed with hot, searing pain…but only watched it inch closer and closer. "When he killed your sister…" he continued, inching closer. "I was the one who dumped her body into that sewer. I knew you would find it…and I wanted you to know how she suffered at our hands."

Bo Katan felt the blade prick at her forehead.

"When you're dead, I'll do the same thing to that girl, and then all of Mandalore will remember how you could never protect anyone you cared for."

Cared for.

I shouldn't have treated you as an aberration, Bo, no matter how different we were. You were my little sister, more precious to me than you could've ever imagined. I should have been there for you, not pushed you away…and I know by now there is nothing I can do to change what I've done.

A tear rolled down her face as she closed her eyes.

You're a warrior, Bo. You're a guardian…a leader. You can be more than a terrorist, or a thug, or a bully…or even a Duchess. You can pull yourself from the ashes.

You can lead our people out of the darkness.

The pain began to soften, and Bo Katan opened her eyes.

And into the light.

A bellow erupted from her mouth as a newfound strength pressed back against his efforts, and with a heave, she threw him clear of her entirely. He stumbled, stunned by her display of strength as he scuttled along the ground, only to meet a boot into his chin as she swing her leg around. Dazed, he tried to shake it off, lunging forward, but Bo Katan was ready.

Sidestepping behind his swipe, she pulled her arm up and underneath…and felt her wrist blade sink into the soft skin of his jugular.

"Send Maul my regards," she hissed, and then pulled the blade free, allowing the blood to flow from his severed wound. He gurgled, choaking in the crimson substance, before his body collapsed onto the ice, and his pool of blood continued to grow around him.

Gar Saxon was dead. Finally, Satine could truly rest.

A rifle locked into place, but a gunshot rang out. Bo Katan turned to see a super commando standing straight, yet aimless; a smoldering hole smoking in his chest as he went limp and slowly collapsed on the ground…with Alhara holding the blaster that killed him.

Bo Katan winced, stumbling as her hand snapped atop her wound, and she fell to one knee, her adrenaline sapping away her natural resistance to the stab she had taken. Alhara ran to her, trying to help keep her blood from continuing to leak from her body with her smaller hands, but Bo Katan pulled them away.

"You're hurt," Alhara insisted, still trying to help, but she held firm, keeping her away.

"I'll be fine," she grunted, looking up to the now-taller girl standing in front of her as she knelt. "What about you? Nara protected you, right?"

Alhara nodded. "Yeah…but I still got some shots off, then I saw you were in trouble, so I ran to help, but that guy beat me here," she pointed to the sizzling armored corpse. "If only I had a jetpack—"

Bo Katan chuckled, squeezing the girl's shoulder. "First day using a real blaster and you ask for more…should've guessed."

"I'm not trying to be greedy or ungrateful, but—"

"You're just trying to help, I know," Bo Katan nodded, pulling her arm away as she smiled. "Thank you."

Another jetpack entered the vicinity, but this one was far more of a relief to see than the last one, out ahead of the pack as the blasterfire seemed to cease back at the stronghold. Nara holstered her blasters as she landed, pulling off her helmet to flash her a smirk.

"You dying? Can I have your stuff?" she joked darkly, earning an eye roll from Bo, and a scowl from Alhara.

"It's not funny!" the girl protested. "And what took you so long?"

"Oh, I don't know," Nara waved off. "I was just killing everyone else you left behind for me. You know you missed quite a few."

Alhara still didn't seem to be amused, and Bo Katan couldn't blame her for caring. After such a trying span of time, one that only had lasted a few minutes, Bo herself felt their bond had grown exponentially. She had been willing to give herself up to preserve Alhara's life, and despite the hardship the decision had come with, she felt…good. It was hard to describe, but the deed had raised her spirits, giving her a fresh boost of joy amiss the brutal fight with Saxon, one that had lead finally to his demise.

"You gonna be okay?" Nara asked, dropping the prodding mood as her tone turned genuine. "Stab wounds can be deceptive. Better let me take a look at it."

Bo Katan was about to protest otherwise, but a wave of lightheadedness rushed over, and the look on Nara's face said plenty as she rushed in beside her to begin treating it. "Could probably use a patch up."

"No need to fret, I have the means to keep you stable," Ursa interjected, pacing within distance, followed by her son, Rondir and Arrum, all looking to be in good health. Meeting her gaze was difficult, especially after the circumstances, but she managed to look back, and inclined her head with gratitude.

"I'll take—ugh!" she grunted, jerking away from Nara's touch as she shot her up with a stim. "Watch it, please."

"Sorry," Nara apologized, but still fought her. "Hold still! The faster this is done, the faster you can get back at her for selling us out."

"Nara…" Bo Katan admonished. "Enough."

The chiss sighed, pressing in again and making her grunt, but the pain was beginning to subside, at least.

"I take it this is my…replacement," Ursa noted, her eyes fixed on Nara.

"Upgrade, more like," Nara muttered, only to get a batted elbow into her ribs. "Good to meet you, I mean."

Ursa raised her brow, but dropped the subject. "And a chiss, no less. Interesting."

Tristan's eyes widened. "You're a chiss?"

Nara scoffed. "Don't worry, it's not contagious."

"Nara!"

"Sorry."

The boy's mother seemed to betray nothing, her mind seemingly fixated on something more pressing than Nara's jokes and jabs. "I suppose she can lighten the mood, if that kind of skill is ever required."

Nara tore a patch from the perforated quadlet, and then stuck it gently against Bo Katan's wound, and then rose to her feet, dusting off her hands. "I live to serve, after all. Go on, Bo-Bo. Your legs still work."

Bo Katan tried to stand, but her slight struggle was helped along by Alhara's rushing aid, and sure enough, she was displaying her full height without any discomfort. It wasn't perfect, but with the speed of the patch job, it was about as best as she could hope for.

"I assume, based on your decision to help us, that you've reconsidered turning us in to the Empire," Bo Katan returned straight to the matter at hand, regarding Ursa with an unintrusive, yet firm demeanor.

The woman's eyes panned down for a moment, before reassuring herself with a straight posture. "I have. I was…wrong to bring Saxon here, but I see that maybe it has worked out better than we'd hoped."

"With Saxon's death, there is no Imperial Viceroy of Mandalore," Rondir pointed out. "Meaning only chaos awaits the Clans."

"Perhaps chaos is what we need," Bo Katan pointed out, turning to the Darksaber, which was resting atop the ice where it had slid. With confident steps, she scooped it up, and returned to their circle, the triad of clan leaders eyeing her carefully. "Maybe that's what will finally spur our people into the fight it needs to be free."

"And that," Rondir began, bowing his head respectfully. "Is why you should be the one to lead us, My Lady. Clan Ordo stands with you, as it always has, and always will."

She felt herself grip the hilt a little tighter as she gave him a gracious smile, but felt it fade, prompting her to look back down at the weapon in her hand.

"I think I can safely say Clan Kryze is with you as well," Nara spoke up, interrupting her thoughts. "That's two."

"Make it three," Ursa added, albeit more hesitant than Bo Katan was comfortable with. "Bo, the things I said, about you not being able to care…I was wrong. You showed me that today, as well as reminded me of my duty to my family and to Mandalore."

Bo Katan shook her head. "No, what you said was true…and it made me realize what's important to me," she looked down to Alhara, pulling the girl beside her as her bronze cheeks turned red. "Thank you, Ursa."

She inclined her head…and all eyes turned to Arrum.

He watched her…studied her, and the scowl he wore only deepened…before shaking his head.

"No," he denied. "Clan Vizsla will not recognize you."

Rondir growled. "Arrum, how long until your pride destroys us all?"

"It's not pride," he spat. "It's about what's proper. This chase against Gar Saxon was nothing more than a personal squabble…a matter of revenge that Bo Katan had to earn closure for. If that is all it takes to be declared Mand'alor, we'd never be strong enough to defeat any of our enemies."

Ursa growled. "Burn in hell with your hypocrisy. It's pathetic."

"Call it what you like," Arrum pointed, keeping his eyes fixed on Bo Katan. "It doesn't make my words any less true. Gar Saxon was hardly a worthy opponent—"

"He was more of a man than you give him credit," Rondir pushed at him, prompting the armored man to stumble. "He's dead. No point in mocking him."

"Touch me again, and I'll split your skull."

Bo Katan watched the two jaw at each other, while Ursa eventually pitched in to the argument. Nara, uncharacteristically, was keeping quiet, perhaps because she didn't trust herself in her knowledge of Mandalorian archaic customs to share an opinion. Besides, everyone already knew where she stood, and there would be no changing that.

She had killed Gar Saxon, traitor to the throne and Viceroy of Mandalore; defeated him in single combat without even a proper weapon to counter his ancient blade. With that, it was almost impossible to discern any other conclusion other than the fact that she should be the one to lead their people. Through this, she may have finally earned the blade she wielded.

But had she earned the title?

Three clans at her back was nothing to scoff at, but it was hardly the majority of the Mandalorian people. If anything, this was little more than a start…and no matter how much Arrum's words were as hypocritical as stated, they were true.

To a degree, but enough of one to matter. The blade was hers…it belonged to her now more than anyone else, but she still had a ways to go.

They all did.

"That's enough," she called out, stepping forward to insert herself between the two. "Arrum is the head of his clan, and if he doesn't think I'm worthy, then he's entitled to that belief. That being said, I will accept your commitments to me, if you still offer them."

The bickering subsided, leaving Rondir agitated while Arrum maintained his stubborn point. None of them moved to change their decisions.

"Then it's decided," she declared. "Call your banners and your forces. Tell them…it's time to go home. We make for Mandalore at first light tomorrow, with the intention of rescuing Alrich Wren from Imperial captivity. With such a victory, we will show all of Mandalore that it is ready to rise against our mutual enemy."

There was gratitude in Ursa's gaze, but she kept it hidden, and inclined her head. "It will be done," she said, and turned to her soldiers. "Ready our ships! Tomorrow we follow Bo Katan of Clan Kryze to war against those Imperial dogs!"

Chats in agreement were thrown their way with raised fists, and Rondir bowed his head. "I will alert our brothers and sisters already on the heart world to prepare for your arrival."

"As will Clan Vizsla…to follow your efforts," he made clear, before turning away and pacing off across the ice. "Nothing more."

"We're really going to Mandalore?" Alhara asked, looking up to her.

"Yes," Bo Katan repeated. "It's time you saw our homeworld."

Alhara's eyes gleamed for a moment, but then flashed back into focus, the trance gone before it had even begun.

"About time. I've heard it's got desolate dust plains, scorched earth…more dust…" Nara trailed off, then crossed her arms. "You always take me to the nicest places."

Ursa glowered slightly. "Where did you find this one?"

"In a stripper joint on Nar Shaddaa," Nara shrugged. "But before that I was a Commander aboard the Vigilant of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. Racked up more confirmed kills in three years than most do in their entire careers."

"Adorable," Ursa rolled her eyes.

"Ha! Good luck impressing this one. She's as rigid as a patron's sha—oh…little one here," Rondir stopped himself.

"You were gonna say a patron's shaft—"

"Alright, that's…enough, please," Bo Katan pulled at Alhara before she could continue. "Nara's a little eccentric, but she wouldn't be here if she weren't one of the best. I think you can trust my judgement."

Ursa narrowed her eyes, but eventually shrugged. "Very well. Not like it matters."

"Aw…is someone jealous?" Nara prodded, only to rear back in slight fear as Ursa puffed out her chest. "Kidding, kidding!"

Lothal – 1 BBY

It was a long speeder ride across the Lothal plains, but as uneventful as Kallus could hope for. He'd covered his bases, checked his corners and secured his alibi…and with Admiral Vorchenko on the verge of tracking down Thrawn's fleet, this would be the last piece of the puzzle. After ascending the ladder to the top of the distant tower he had used to leak all his intel, he kept his steps quiet in the night as he pushed aside the drapes into his workplace.

Everything still in order.

Taking a knee in front of his comm scrambler, he fine-tuned the knobs to utilize Fulcrum's network, and beam a virtually untraceable message to the Valkyrie.

"This is agent oh-five-two-two, sending coordinates now," he spoke into the microphone, and uploaded. "Confirm receipt."

No response. He adjusted the knobs, figuring he just missed one.

"I repeat, confirm receipt."

After a moment, the scrambler finally blinked green. He smiled.

"Thank you, Agent Kallus," a cold, chilling voice spoke from behind him, and he whirled around to see Grand Admiral Thrawn waiting there for him, his red eyes glowing brightly in the night. "Your exemplary service to the Empire will be noted."

He sprung into action, but already an unstoppable force was upon him, ramming into his chest and cracking a few ribs in the process. Crying out, he felt his back slam next, and finally, once his vision cleared, he could see he was in the grip of Thrawn's own personal bodyguard.

Commander Nerah.

How? How did they know? He'd taken every precaution, framed Lieutenant Lyste as the informant, and covered up every last trace of his fingerprints on anything he had touched. What did he miss? Was Thrawn just…that good…or…

Then, he knew. Just as the fist that clouded his vision black impacted the bottom of his chin…the name resonated.

Elena.

I'd like to thank each and every one of you, as this story just breached the 50,000 view mark. Never has any of my stories even reached halfway to such a count, and I could not thank you all enough. I don't know if I'll do anything special for this, but I'll be sure to let you know if I plan to.

Thank you, all of you. Could not have been possible without your support.

Coming soon, and probably with a delay or in two parts: the Admirals clash!