CHAPTER 5

Favor for a Favor

2 Years Later

Chimaera – 2 BBY

The three-eyed aquatic creature that served as the circular design for Nerah's right shoulder guard looked as beautiful as she expected, the use of red, white and black perfectly molded and faded together. It almost left a blissful grin upon her face, stemming from a sense of pride at finally marking herself as a permanent member of Grand Admiral Thrawn's crew. After careful maneuvering, political assistance from various benefactors, willing and unwilling, and no shortage of good luck was she finally allowed to be fully under the wing of Thrawn and Thrawn alone. That meant no more busy jobs or guard duties for high-ranking Imperial officers and Governors, and now strictly, and only service for a higher purpose.

Nothing about her transfer was seamless, of course. The last person she served was Administrator Arihnda Pryce on the outer rim planet of Lothal, working to root out a growing hotbed of rebel activity, and she had been none too happy to learn that her greatest asset was being taken from her disposal. She didn't take the news particularly well, but in the end, Thrawn had won over the sway of Grand Moff Tarkin himself, a favor used for when Nerah had prevented a near-successful assassination attempt against the Empire's most influential officer.

No good deed should ever go unpaid, not in the Empire's cutthroat power structure anyway…and Nerah couldn't be more glad she was surrounded by familiar faces again…as well as some new ones.

"Commander Vigan'era'hrorra. Please report to my office as soon as possible."

That was the other incredible part. She was a Commander. Years of service without any recognition other than "Special Forces Asset", she'd finally proven to understand and adapt to the Imperial structure to be granted citizenship, and subsequently a rank worthy of her commitment.

It was hard not to be giddy when she heard it for the first time. "Copy that, Grand Admiral. I will be there shortly."

No hint of her native accent was present anymore. Completely Coruscanti.

Her cheeks heated as her heart swelled. Commander Nerah, citizen and officer of the Galactic Empire…an alien no less.

Her stroll to Admiral Thrawn's office was a short one, passing by various stormtroopers who now saluted her as she passed, before continuing on their way to their respective duties. Whether they approved or not was immaterial, and it hardly mattered to her. The gesture was more than she was used to receiving anyhow.

The one at his door clicked her one as well. "Commander. Code cylinder."

Nerah fished the silver metal object from her shoulder sleeve, despite the irregularity. "Expecting trouble, Lieutenant Commander?"

He accepted it, plugging it into the console and letting the interface log her entrance. "I don't ask questions, sir. I imagine the Admiral will fill you in."

Nerah took back her cylinder and placed it back into its spot, just as he stepped aside with the open door. Pacing through the immediate lobby, she came to his proper office entrance, the automatic door sliding as soon as the sensors picked her up.

Thrawn was always found doing various observations, but Nerah had eventually reached the realization that these tasks were inherently similar or limited to one recurring subject.

Art.

Nerah herself never had a knack for it until she had met him for the first time, and his lessons had taught her to appreciate and accept it, even adopt it. She somewhat prided herself as an artist on the battlefield, utilizing entirely bloodless methods to slay entire armies on her own, or subvert entire operations for the fatal kill blow at a vital weak point. All of it had stemmed back to what he had taught her when she was barely a teenager, and not remotely fluent in Basic.

"Grand Admiral," she stood at attention, waiting for her fellow chiss to turn her way. "You asked for me?"

Thrawn did not respond immediately, and that gave Nerah a chance to observe the projected art pieces he was currently studying. Most of them seemed like common battle scenes as depicted in most cultures, but upon closer examination, she noticed the iconic T-shaped helmets that were worn by the armored jetpack-using warriors she had encountered on occasion. Truly impressive soldiers, indeed…but she was under the impression they were outside of Thrawn's eye and jurisdiction.

Eventually he did deactivate the holoprojector, allowing the lights to return to their normal, brighter levels, while turning his crimson eyes to face her.

"Nerah," he said, his voice calm and as cool as ever. "A pleasure to see you again. I understand your efforts have crippled the rebels in the Lothal System?"

She inclined her head. "Indeed. With the support of Darth Vader, the bulk of their forces have fled into hiding, even Phoenix Squadron."

Thrawn's expression remained neutral, but Nerah was able to decipher pride in his gaze. "An exemplary example of your abilities, especially for a cell of rebels more elusive than the other groups we have encountered. Nonetheless, I have called you here to get you up to speed in regard to our operations aboard the Chimaera," he said, pacing around his desk to meet her. "I would like your input as to where you believe you will be most effective while not engaged in field work."

Her input? She hadn't been asked for that since she left Csilla over a decade ago. Then again, Thrawn was notorious for considering the opinions of his subordinates much more often than his counterparts.

A trait that certainly had earned him his post.

"Well," Nerah considered, stroking her chin for a moment. "I have been praised for my ability to deconstruct a threat, although I certainly would not mind serving as your personal attaché while aboard. I…confess my naval prowess is not up to par with my field ability."

"Those were my thoughts as well," Thrawn agreed. "Perhaps it would be best for you to observe the workings of warship command. Field ability and naval prowess can be far more hand in hand than you may think."

She left out the part in which she truly hated naval duties…and actually considered them to be a waste of her talents. However, she saw the necessity, especially when locked into battle in deep space where boarding was not an option.

"I have not forgotten the lessons you taught me all those years ago. I can be a second set of eyes for you, should you need them," Nerah offered him an instinctual smile, but stuffed it away, realizing her comfort with speaking to him had her carried away.

"Indeed, but on to the matter at hand," Thrawn redirected her attention, making her stiffen. "Are you at all familiar with the rebel Admiral Reyna Vorchenko?"

How could she not be? Reyna Vorchenko was a cautionary tale throughout the galaxy, frightening children into obeying their parents without question. The rogue fleet had cost the Empire billions of credits in resources in just the past few years, let alone the decade since she defected during the Inquisitorious disaster. The enigmatic Admiral had no match, or at least that's what the stories said. Nerah had become convinced she had been defeated long ago and was now merely used as motivation for Imperial academies to root out incompetence…the most rampant disease ravaging the Empire.

"I am," was all she said.

"Good," Thrawn tipped his head. "That will spare me the lengthy explanation. The Emperor has tasked me with dismantling this Galactic Alliance Fleet, and in my first few months of studying their movements, tendencies and sightings, I have learned very little from the data I have gathered…which has lead me to the conclusion that it will take more…persuasive means to draw out the intrepid Admiral."

Nerah furrowed her brow. "Have you considered tracking down her other major players?" she then suppressed a scowl, preparing the name to leave her mouth. "The former Second Sister, perhaps?"

"Even more of an enigma," Thrawn said. "Although your point certainly has merit, and it is why I have brought you here. For us to be successful, I will be dispatching you on various investigative missions under my command and supervision. You will be operating with virtually unlimited authority by the grace of the Emperor himself. While your achievements do you credit, results will be imperative for every mission you take part in," he put emphasis on the last point, meaning she needed to take it to heart; sear it into her brain if need be. "The Emperor has suffered this issue for far too long, and I do not plan to displease him. Is that clear?"

"Very clear, Admiral," Nerah nodded. "I will not fail you; I promise."

A small smile curled his lips for a moment, before disappearing. "I do not imagine you will. For now, however, it is time for you to familiarize yourself with my command crew. If you would accompany me to the bridge, we can begin."

Dantooine – 2 BBY

Mandalorian armor was definitely insulating, and while Nara had been raised on Csilla long before she fled the planet decades ago, she had never been accustomed to the cold. She figured the insulation was actually counterproductive, making the soft chills of air that seeped through her various unsewed areas all the more shiver-inducing…but if there was anything she had learned from being a chiss, it was that warm caf had a way of solving that problem. It was something she had to pick up on her own, a fact that had dictated the majority of her life until the best person to ever stoop into a sleezy bar on Nar Shaddaa changed everything.

That person was sitting across from her, looking far more content with the current temperature of the cantina, adopting a calm that almost never left her, even on the field of battle. She could almost remember their first encounter like it was yesterday, Nara still dressed in little more than a bra and panties, scowling at the fully armored Mandalorian woman interrogating her about her "after work activities". She had no idea who a Mandalorian even was before that day, even less that the creed was not at all exclusive to the human race.

She? A Mandalorian? It still seemed preposterous now, and it was hard to quantify how she saw it then. She remembered a lot of curses in Basic thrown Bo Katan's way, not at all softened by her indifference towards the galaxy, as well as restricting her tongue. Never before had she been complimented for being able to talk up a shitstorm of insults, but it was all the more reason she wore this armor now…the signate of Clan Kryze pasted on her beskar shoulder.

While she didn't think she was the first chiss to carry the name of Mandalorian, it was certainly a nice little touch to take credit for anyway.

"So what are we doing here?" Nara asked, fighting off a shiver. "If I had balls, I'd think they'd have frozen off by now."

Bo Katan's eyes had been pacing the cantina in their time of silence, and this time panned back over to the bronze-skinned girl occupying their third seat, her black cornrows emitting strands of hair from the sliding of her helmet. The woman adopted a slight grin at the sight of Alhara digging into a bowl of stew that was half full…and had arrived merely 30 seconds ago.

"Right now, feeding the little one," Bo Katan answered.

"I'm not little!" Alhara protested, stew around her mouth.

"If that were true, it wouldn't have to be said," Bo cocked a brow. "Would it?"

Alhara swallowed her bite, and then lowered her head in slight shame. "No."

The little lessons were common as Nara continued to spend time with the pair. It was interesting, as Bo Katan had taught Nara much, but she was a fully adult when she had begun, not to mention basic combat training as a chiss commando. Watching her translate those same lessons to a child was rather masterful, requiring slight bits of encouragement along with the somewhat harsh demands and goal setting. Bo wasn't abusive in the slightest, but she made it clear that okay wasn't good enough, and instead appealed to Alhara's already indomitable determination with subtle mockeries to spur her along.

Nara felt she was there for emotional relief.

"Don't worry. Being little isn't permanent. It gets better…usually anyway," Nara quipped, taking a sip of her caf.

"Being large physically does not translate mentally," Bo corrected, turning her gaze to Nara. "You're looking at a prime example, Alhara."

Nara scoffed. "Ha, ha."

Alhara giggled slightly. "Aren't chiss girls adults when they turn 10? What's your excuse?"

This also happened on occasion, reminding her that she was more like Alhara's ridiculous Aunt and not her mother.

"Keep talking," Nara scowled her way in warning. "Next time, I won't go easy on you when it's my turn to be your punching bag."

Bo smiled, turning back to Alhara. "See?"

She nodded, "I see. Act big even if you aren't, and your enemy will see you that way anyway."

Bo Katan inclined her head with approval. "Back to eating."

Lesson over.

Nara took another sip as she leaned back, giving the cantina another once over before returning her original question to the table. "So once the little one is fed, what then?"

Her counterpart finished her own look, while Alhara was too busy to notice Nara's shot at her. "Dantooine is a remote enough planet for us to run through some basic techniques Alhara needs to know. You yourself couldn't hurt to try them as well."

Nara shrugged. "Whatever you say, boss. Been meaning to stretch my legs."

"Oh, these will do more than that," Bo assured her, but her sideways glance to Alhara made her pause, and only after Nara followed her gaze did she notice that their young companion had her eyes fixed on two masked figures approaching them. First glance had them pegged as bounty hunters, armed to the teeth in similar garments, male and female.

Nara felt her eye twitch and placed her hidden left hand on her blaster.

The male spoke first. "Bo Katan of House Kryze. My name is—"

"I know who you are," Bo replied, a measure of ice in her tone, and Nara already took her cue to prepare to leap in front of Alhara when the time came. The man's stance did not change, which could not be said for his female companion, prompting Nara to flex her wrist, activating the silent chime of her wrist launcher.

"Then you know who sent me," the man said.

Bo Katan's gaze held on his optics. "Not all friends of Fulcrum are friends of mine. Someone with your supposed intellect should not have a difficult time discerning why that would be."

The man paused for a moment, but eventually cocked his head. "I didn't come here for you," he said, and Nara felt herself shiver slightly as his gaze fell to her. "She's the one we need."

Nara scoffed. "I don't do private dances anymore, so respectfully, you can kindly go fuck yourself."

"That's not what I've heard," the woman finally spoke up. "I've heard—"

"Bitch, I'm not talking to you," Nara interrupted her, drawing a closed fist. "Now, unless you two want to tell me who you are, I think we're done here."

"He doesn't have a name," Bo Katan interjected, her voice almost filling with contempt along with its chilling undertone. "Nor does he have true allegiance to any cause."

The man slightly chuckled to himself, stepping towards her. "I remember you. I remember that village you helped burn down on Carlac…"

Nara noticed Bo's eyes flash with recognition, the muscles in her neck tighten.

"…or did you think no one would ever know about that?"

"Threaten her again, and I'll be adding your intestines to this stew," Alhara butted in, her scowl vile enough to kill on sight, and tapping the spoon to the bottom of the bowl.

"Like you could cut through this armor, you little schutta," the woman pointed her way, to which Nara locked her legs in position to spring, but the male stopped her advance.

"Murdering children is below us. I wish I could say the same for everyone here," he continued to engage Bo Katan in their stare down.

Now it was Bo's turn to chuckle, slowly rising to her feet. "We both know that's not true. I've made mistakes, but you…you'll never wash the blood off your hands."

His head slowly shook. "That's not who I am anymore."

Nara knew Bo Katan would never attack, not first anyway, but it was becoming more apparent that these two didn't know that. She trusted her enough to know the situation was in hand, but that didn't mean the chiss even considered taking her gloved hand off her blaster.

Her mentor scowled. "What is it you want with Nara?"

That was a great question. Nara herself didn't take pride in being very interesting. Being the only chiss in the room drew eyes, certainly, but usually only out of lustful desire, and her history as a dancer…which was the friendly term for what she did…had just about evaporated her self-confidence. She'd only reclaimed such recently…but it had been a long journey.

She didn't dwell on it much now.

The man turned to Nara. "You can call me Wraith, and I want you to tell me everything you know about Project Sunstorm."

Chimaera – 2 BBY

Faro's eyes shiver with recognition, but not surprise at Thrawn's arrival, her posture stiff and at attention.

"Commander Nerah, this is Commodore Karyn Faro. She is my second in command aboard the Chimaera," Thrawn introduced.

Nerah's lips curve into a pleasing smile, her form snapping into a proper salute. Faro loosens her stance, and then offers a hand. "I do not believe I was present the last time you were under Admiral Thrawn's command," Faro mused, just as their hands clasped together. "Pleasure to meet another one of your people, as well as such a revered hero of the Empire."

Nerah's glee remains as she retreats both hands behind her back. "You flatter me, Commodore. Thrawn has told me much about you as well, especially your trustworthiness in the event of his occasional absence."

Faro's gaze wanders to Thrawn as the muscles in her face relax, perhaps revealing pride. "I can assure you that I ensure the smooth efficiency that the Admiral demands, and I look forward to working with you."

Nerah affords a slight bow. "As do I."

"Commodore, have you completed your analysis of the events on Botajef two years ago?" Thrawn asked. Nerah's pupils narrow, her neck loosening as she turns to face Thrawn.

"Yes sir," Faro acknowledged, revealing her datapad from behind her back. "I have also pulled all files the Empire has on Admiral Vorchenko and forwarded them to our analysis team…however ISB has sealed much of her data, including much of what occurred on Botajef."

Nerah's eyes narrow, but holds her tongue, seemingly acknowledging Faro's superior authority.

"Have you contacted Colonel Yularen?" Thrawn asked.

"Yes sir," Faro nodded. "He apparently is still fighting various litigation threats from Grand Moff Tarkin, as well as infighting within the Bureau itself." Faro's stance loses no comfort, suggesting she knows she has done all she could. "I apologize, Admiral."

"No apology necessary, Commodore," Thrawn said. "If there is infighting within ISB, then I do not believe there is much more Yularen will be able to do in regard to assistance."

Nerah's head inclines, her lips curling upwards slightly, perhaps presenting hidden excitement. "Admiral…if I may…"

"Proceed, Commander."

"Perhaps if we moved down the chain of command, request the assistance of some old allies of ours within ISB, we could achieve the clearance we need to do a full analysis," Nerah suggested.

"Very well," Thrawn considered. "These allies being…"

Her eyes glisten, but Nerah maintains her respectful posture, her hands remaining motionlessly clasped together behind her back. "I believe Agent Elena Markov has been optioned for reassignment. I doubt Colonel Yularen would be opposed to the request."

"Perhaps," Thrawn admitted. Nerah's lips even out. "However while her expertise will be more than welcome, her recent involvement with High Agent Gideon has made her difficult to reach. There is no guarantee she will be permitted to join in our search, and such a request could raise further suspicion that Yularen may not be able to afford."

Nerah's eyes retreat with recognition, her throat bulging from a swallow.

"Elena Markov has an investigation report included in Vorchenko's files," Faro interjected, still sifting through the datapad for her findings. "It states no evidence of collusion was found, but everything else is redacted. She could be a good place to start while we attempt to uncover more data."

Nerah and Faro both watch as Thrawn's mind weighs the risks and rewards, waiting in anticipation as they begin to predict his next orders.

"Perhaps we can take advantage of her motivation for retribution," Thrawn answered. "Very well. Send the request to Admiral Yularen and set a course for the planet Azure."

Faro blinks. "Azure, sir?"

"Indeed," Thrawn inclined his head. "In order to understand our enemy, we must comprehend her origins."

Dantooine – 2 BBY

Bo Katan understood everyone had a past, and deeper still, that everyone had secrets dangerous enough to ostracize themselves from everyone they loved. Whether it be a silent unpopular opinion or an entire conspiracy, she was never cynical enough to assume the worst from those she trusted.

She'd found Nara in a less than flattering position, offered her more than just a chance to regain a semblance of her old life, but a chance to be a part of something that could change the galaxy itself. Becoming a Mandalorian was never a goal taken lightly. It had to be earned, the process understood and fully respected, otherwise a recruit was just another common soldier. Nara was merely a figure who needed a push in the right direction, and Bo had been more than willing to accept her into the ranks of Clan Kryze no more than three years ago.

And yet she couldn't understand why this bothered her so much. To watch her face fall at the mere naming of Project Sunstorm right when she was prepared to put two blaster bolts through the heads of the old Separatist monsters she remembered so vividly…it caught her off guard, and hardly anything caught her off guard anymore. She'd become so numb to tricks, cloaks and daggers, that secrets revealed no longer worried her.

This was just…

A hand tapped her hip, and she looked down to Alhara, who had the look of concern in her emerald eyes. "What's going on?"

Bo swallowed, looking across the field to where Nara was still conversing with Wraith and Banshee, the other armored woman who had accompanied him. "I wish I knew," she admitted, and then returned her gaze to the girl. "Keep your eyes open and senses clear. Don't let your guard down until we know what these two are up to."

Alhara nodded, pulling a hand up to rest on her smaller holdout blaster. "Haven't dropped my guard since."

That at least afforded Bo Katan a small bit of joy to outweigh her unease for the moment, flashing her a smirk of approval. "Then you are learning something."

She'd never admit it, as to not let the praise get to the girl's head, but Alhara was picking up things at a rate so unnatural Bo had no explanation for it. Face value determined that it was her ability to train that amounted to such progress, but she knew better. Alhara was either a natural…or her father had really prepared her, but what would a Jedi know about being a Mandalorian? They spent most of their time running around the galaxy with a false sense of self-righteousness, following a flawed code, righting wrongs…

She suppressed an urge to pinch the bridge of her nose as her mind wandered into useless niches…and it resulted in Alhara's elbow having to prompt her that Nara was approaching them. The chiss, helmet removed, looked more sullen than Bo had ever seen her, a frown dominating her expression in a fashion that made her look almost shell shocked. It almost made her feel bad for the necessity to come at her abrasively.

"Want to tell me why I couldn't be involved in your little chat?" Bo asked, making it clear she was unhappy.

Nara's crimson eyes couldn't meet her, scratching her neck. "You have no idea how complicated this is…"

"Then make it simple," Bo implored, standing her ground. "Why are two former Separatist Super Soldiers interested in you of all people?"

Nara swallowed, wiping her eyes as she paced away, seemingly finding the words. When none came, she had already wandered to a nearby tree, her forearm supporting her as she leaned. It was then that Bo deducted that abrasiveness would not get the desired outcome. This had all the symptoms of a personal debacle, and while Bo never prided herself in being able to diffuse such issues…she still felt it prudent to try.

Only Alhara had beaten her to the punch, positioning herself in front of Nara and giving her a subtle nudge with her fist…which was their subtle way of showing each other affection. She heard the chiss snivel, gently grasp Alhara's shoulder, and then finally turned, wiping her eyes clear before facing Bo again. This time, she waited, allotting no unnecessary pressure.

"Project Sunstorm was an initiative used by my people to create superior fighters. My family, House Vigan, which has been vying for a chance to retake their seat among the nine ruling families of the Ascendancy, had taken the lead on this initiative. The idea was to utilize a serum that would increase the strength, speed and agility of the subject, making them capable of being worth well over one hundred individual soldiers…" she trailed off, once again looking like she was digging through her own heart just to make herself continue. "What do you know about those two?" she flicked her head to Wraith and Banshee, who were speaking together in wait, her tone presenting a measure of annoyance.

"Like I said, they fought for the Separatists during the Clone Wars. I've run in to both of them, fought both of them…but that was a long time ago. I didn't even know they were still alive," Bo Katan admitted, silently cursing to herself as it became obvious why they would still be alive. "We have mutual friends."

"I picked up on that," Nara nodded, hands on her hips as she occasionally wiped her face. "They want us to help them track down another one of their kind."

Bo almost laughed. "Our services aren't for sale, and we have much more important duties to attend to."

Nara looked like she would agree at first, but something caught her tongue, resulting in a very short sigh.

Her frustration began to set in. "Nara, dammit, just spit it out."

Bo Katan tried everything she had to be patient, but Nara's inability to speak was beginning to trigger alarms in her head that made her reminisce too much of Gar Saxon…the dishonorable Imperial tool who had sold Mandalore to the Empire at her expense. Since that betrayal, trust had become a premium, and even her previous Nite Owls didn't feel trustworthy enough to be at her side. Even so, Ursa Wren had become too close to her governing duties…and decided to raise a family instead.

A commitment Bo Katan could not tolerate within her inner circle.

So she had started fresh, recruiting utterly fresh faces with otherwise no ties to Mandalore, and of all the candidates she had observed, Nara had been far and away the best choice. It wasn't necessarily raw prowess that made her so perfect, but more her lack of commitment to any cause whatsoever. The woman had been aimlessly drifting from a falling out with her entire culture, unwilling to ever believe in anything again…and all Bo did was fill that vacuum, creating someone completely and utterly loyal to her. She knew with complete confidence that Nara would never betray her, never sell her out, never even turn her back on her…and she could do all of that without becoming a mindless sycophant.

What Bo never considered was the baggage that came with such an individual. Nara was a woman with more problems than she could ever list in one sitting, stemming from her loudmouthed unapologetic rhetoric to her engagement with multiple sexual partners, all amounting to a woman who was good at being what Bo Katan needed her to be, but not much else. This fact, of course, was an unsustainable one, and when it eventually ran out to enact its reckoning…she could lose Nara forever.

Which meant that if Bo Katan's suspicions were correct, that this was a personal affair for her, then she had no choice but to entertain it.

She would never be able to trust Nara otherwise.

"There's a new super soldier…this one Imperial," Nara finally revealed, dismay quite present in her expression. "And she's chiss."

"I know, Nara," Bo Katan inclined her head. "I'm guessing you know her, then?"

Nara swallowed, shaking her head as her arms crossed. "Whether I know her or not doesn't matter."

"But you do."

Nara met her eyes, those crimson engulfed pupils glowing back at her with a feeling of building internal rage, one that she remembered distinctly in that club on Nar Shaddaa.

What the fuck do you want from me?

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Nara spat. Bo hadn't raised her ire then, and she didn't now…only this time she had Alhara to grasp Nara's wrist.

"Nara…" the girl warned somewhat, seemingly worried the two were on a crash course for a full-on argument, to which Bo had no fear of occurring.

"It's alright, Alhara," Bo eased, but kept her gaze on Nara. "I just get the feeling Nara has more of a stake in this than she's letting on."

Nara balled her fists, and that's when she knew.

"We don't have all day," Banshee interjected as she appeared beside them, to which Bo Katan knew was long approaching. "Your friend told us you were reliable."

Interesting. She'd have to speak to Ahsoka about that oversight, if that were indeed who she was talking about.

"We're not bounty hunters or mercenaries," Bo replied, meeting Banshee's crimson optics as Wraith caught up to his impatient counterpart. "Whatever assurances they gave you are moot."

Banshee turned to Wraith. "Thanks for this colossal waste of my time."

"No," Nara shook her head, turning towards the two super soldiers. "I'll help you."

There you go.

Now she had to pretend to be upset, and make Nara stand her ground, which was the easy part. Glaring at her, Bo stepped forward…and Nara did the rest.

"I'm doing this, Bo," Nara pointed, her brows slanted. "I…I have to. You won't understand…not now anyway."

She maintained that glare, meeting Nara's own and making Alhara even more uneasy, but she eventually allowed it to soften, taking a step back. "I know."

Nara looked stunned for the moment, but eventually her cheeks tinged red, and she grimaced. "I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" Wraith asked.

"None of your fuckin' business," Nara snapped, making him rear back defensively with raised hands. "All you need to know is it means we're going with you."

"Not we," Bo corrected her. "Just you."

Nara's swallow made her throat almost double in size for a moment, before turning to face her with uneasy eyes and a shivering mouth. "What?"

"We stay together!" Alhara protested from below. "It's what you—"

"You have a lot more training to do before I even consider throwing you at a super soldier," Bo cut her off with a tone of finality, not at all interested in an argument. Alhara looked as if she was beginning to formulate a protest, but another stern look had it evaporate as quickly as it had appeared. "And Nara needs to take care of this."

The chiss still shook her head, running her gloved fingers through her ruffled, mid-neck length black hair…but eventually seemed to catch her meaning.

"If you'll let me…I will."

Bo inclined her head, but then turned a warning glance to Banshee and Wraith. "If she doesn't come back, I'll kill you both."

Banshee wiggled her fingers. "I'm fluttering with fear."

"She's kidding," Wraith leaned in.

Bo Katan clenched her fist, approaching him. "I don't care if you still share a bed with her. I don't care if she still loves you," she hissed, allowing her soul to bore into those red, unfeeling optics. "I'll still fucking kill you."

Wraith's own fist clenched, but Bo didn't allow him to get another word, sliding her helmet over her head.

"Those are the terms, and I dare you to test me."

With that, she pulled Alhara along, and left Nara to her task. It was a bet she shouldn't be willing to take…but the rewards…

The rewards could be unthinkable.

Thanks to DFM23 for use of both Wraith and Banshee for this and the coming chapters.