(A/N So, this is my longest chapter for this story so far...yikes. We continue to watch Teena have volatile emotions. lol

This is the scene I was both really looking forward to writing and really dreading, because it's been in my head for a while and I reallylike it like this, but it changes a lot of the perception. I have a few friends I'm going to be asking if I can keep this and continue on the intended path or if I should change it, or if I should follow where it seems to lead.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!

Let me know any ideas/opinions you have.)

Strategy erupted around the table. Bottlenecks were highlighted on the map of the ship, they discussed how many would be needed to take the bridge and who should go, and how to board. Din took it all in, allowing the clan leaders to voice their opinions. There was one question that surprised him in the jumble of words.

"Who will lead the attack?" Tristen Wren was the one who asked and Din considered the man for a moment.

"I will lead," Din replied.

"No," Vizsla cut in, "you need to be here gathering our forces and training our warriors."

"The clans train their warriors," Wight's alore protested.

"But Mand'alor oversees the army," Bo Katan reminded her. "Not just a squad. Wren and Vizsla are right. Besides, we're insulting our own strength if we send him for our every mission."

Din grunted, not looking forward to his leadership role. He missed being a lone bounty hunter. Even the throngs of curiosity on Sorgan was better than the weight of responsibility he felt for the Mando'ade. He would need to oversee the adate, and delegate missions, and teach foundlings. And he would be responsible for every failure and subsequent death. [people(s)]

He sighed and looked around the room.

The alore all waited for his decision while Teena stood apart, studying the door.

"We will… have volunteers on the mission. Using stunners means the enemy will wake and fight again. Those holding the bottlenecks need to understand that. As for the one leading the negotiations… I'll… appoint a right-hand." It was almost painful for him to say.

"Mand'alor is the sole ruler," Kryze stated, as if he didn't already know.

"I can't be in two places at once." The darksaber was still on the table; if she was going to question his every decision she should just challenge him. It would save a lot of headache. The table remained silent.

"Spread word and ask for volunteers. We have time. I'll let you know who will lead the assault after we have the team." He sighed. It'd already been a long day.

Teena and Bo Katan exchanged glares as the alore left the room and only the three remained. He assumed Teena was waiting on him while Bo Katan was waiting on her. He just crossed his arms and waited for the tension to break.

"I need to get back to my ship," Teena's voice was small, no longer holding the righteous anger from earlier.

"At viinir?" Kryze asked, sounding bitter. [to run?]

"I told Dev and Na'sara I wouldn't be long," she shrugged, still studying her surroundings in an effort not to make eye contact.

"Your foundlings?"

Teena finally met her aunt's eye and he could see her heart breaking. He was an intruder in this conversation, much as he had been among her found family, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

"You met Na'sara," Teena said with a surprisingly even voice.

"The twi'lek?"

Teena nodded.

"And who is… Dev?"

"'Sara found him. I took him in." She shrugged, looking back at the door longingly.

"When?"

"A year after you died," she bit out. Bo Katan frowned, but nodded.

"N'eparavu takisit," Kryze said softly. "You were protecting your foundlings from my leadership." [I'm sorry (for insulting you)]

"Are you going to try to lead again?" Teena regained her sharpness.

"No," Bo Katan sighed. "No, that falls to Djarin now."

The pair looked to him and he silently wished to become invisible. He pulled up his com and connected to Nala.

"Where are you now?" he asked.

"We just finished crafting a readout shell. These two make quite the pair. One can design anything and the other can wire it."

The women looked at him questioningly until another voice transmitted over the com.

"This is amazing!" Teena's eyes widened at Na'sara's voice. "The complexity of a single plate is so cool! I could run a whole system out of a single vambracer!" Din chuckled at the Twi'lek's enthusiasm while Teena's face lost color.

She grabbed his arm and yelled into the com, "What are you doing off the ship?!"

"I have been taking good care of them, Teena," the Armorer spoke again. "They asked to see the training room next."

"We'll meet you there," Din said before Teena could respond. He turned off the com and looked at Kryze. "I was expecting you to lead the assault on the Republic ship."

"I...cannot lead. Even under your command," she said in a rueful voice.

"Why?" he asked, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice.

"Divided loyalties," Teena said as if it should have been obvious. He just looked at her, waiting. "She was the alore appointed by the Jedi at the end of the Clone Wars. And then she gained the Darksaber to lead against the Empire when the Rebellion started up in full swing. I thought she died defending Mandalore. A lot of people will remember that and look at her as the rightful leader."

"Then why not accept the saber when I was willing to yield?" he asked her, while Teena's eyebrows shot up.

"I accepted it freely from another when I led Mandalore's Rebellion. Then I lost it. I can't accept it without right a second time. And I won't lead our people to failure a third time."

He nodded his understanding. Loss was difficult for a leader to shoulder and he did not look forward to the sensation.

.

"So," she asked again, "why are my kids on board?"

"Curiosity," Din shrugged.

Teena fumed. They had orders to wait on her ship. They were not to engage any Mandalorians! And now they were traipsing around molding Beskar with Nala!

At least Bo Katan was gone. Yes, she'd apologized, but Teena was still angry with her. She'd mourned her aunt and was pained by her blatant rejection. For a fleeting minute she'd imagined calling Mandalore home, even looking forward to it, but it was obvious she was not welcome home.

Now, her ire could be focused on Din. He hadn't thought to inform her of his title and somehow he knew her kids were on board when she didn't. But curiosity and respect somehow managed to pierce the haze of her anger. She was dying to know what had transpired between him and Aunt Bo.

An odd assortment of emotions fell over her as she considered Bo Katan refusing the Darksaber. Relief, respect, surprise. She was a wise leader, despite her failures, and Teena hoped Din would use her wisdom.

They arrived at an empty room with a plentiful assortment of arms and padded floors and walls.

"The forge is about as far away as you can get from here," he told her in explanation of the empty room. She grunted in response thinking of all the stops they would make to ask about everything they saw and everyone they met.

Teena couldn't find anything to do with her hands, so she began pacing and running her finger over the length of her hinge.

Din stalked over to one of the mats and nodded his head for her to join him. She set into an offensive melee volley the moment she touched the padding. He wasn't ready for it, but recovered quickly. She was growing frustrated by the blocked blows and forced distance. He would not let her inside his guard. For her part, she managed to block the few attacks he threw at her, but he was obviously holding back, allowing her to tire herself out. It was time for a change in tactic.

He shoved her back and she rolled into a defensive position, unsheathing her electro-whip. He dodged her first attack and lit his flamethrower, forcing her to jump back and shield her face. She only had a moment to dodge the stun ray that followed the flames. Reaching her whip forward she caught his pistol, but his grapple wrapped around her left hand at the same time. She tried to plant her feet, but his bait had worked and his strength was considerable. She was tugged forward a step and a half before she released her whip and disentangled herself from his line.

She didn't know why, but she was getting very frustrated. She knew he was a decent fighter, she'd fought alongside him after all, but she wanted to win right now. Her frustration at her aunt and at his conspiring and her kids' insubordencance all cascaded into a burning desire to beat Din into a pulp.

They circled each other for a moment in defensive positions. She didn't know why he didn't push his advantage, but she was trying to determine her next strategy. Her whip was lying several yards away with his blaster, her own blaster was useless against his Beskar- the stunner being dimmed while she figured he would not appreciate her using live ammo in a sparring match, and hand-to-hand was useless. That left her baton, but she was vaguely worried about what melee weapon he might unsheath to combat it.

"Would you like to yield?" he asked her.

Teena bared her teeth in answer.

"What do you fight for, Teena?" he asked casually.

"What do you want, Djarin?" She had no mind for games.

"You said you're ready to come home," he pointed out. "Stay. Work through the bad blood with your aunt. Offer your ade a place in the Creed."

She stalled. She had given up that hope when Bo Katan had labeled her a coward. Teena had never really considered it for Na'sara and Dev. They could belong. But that would mean accepting Din as the Mand'alor. She could fight alongside him, and she could even consider him a friend, but following him was more difficult. He paved a path she could not walk down. She could not bring honor to the rite her parents' killers followed.

Growling, she slowly unclipped her baton from the base of her back and extended it. When he pulled a vibroblade she made the decision to break it into two handled batons [picture night sticks] twirling them into position before countering him again. His blade was quick, but she felt good as she finally landed a few solid blows, even knocking him back twice, while still dodging his every swing.

But it didn't last.

He took a blow on her right on purpose, dropping his blade to grab her weapon and yank her forward and off balance. She tried to counter with her left but her timing was poor and she ended up blocking a kick to her chest with her wrist.

She tried to bite back the pain, but her left wrist was at least bruised, and probably sprained. She really hoped it wasn't broken.

"Teena, let me see it," Din commanded, ignoring her defensive stance. He looked much like when she'd met him outside her quarters; like he was trying to placate her fear.

She growled again and spun a kick at his helmet. It connected, leaving him disoriented just long enough for her to swipe the Beskar spear off his back. She had to roll backwards to avoid his swing at her as he spun back to face. She couldn't properly fight because her left wrist would only move in jerky painful motions, but she refused to back down. She pulled her left wrist to her chest sternum and tightened her grip on the staff so it was braced by her forearm.

He sighed and ignited the Darksaber.

"You're injured. Yield."

She feigned towards his head and swiped at his side. Both swings were easily parried.

"Teena, yield."

She made to attack his shoulder joint and followed it with a kick to the chest when he parried as expected. He was forced to take a step back and she felt his frustration grow enough that he finally dropped into an offensive position. She felt the air leave her, knowing she could not win. But she couldn't stop either.

It took three strikes and a burnt forearm for him to disarm her. He held the saber under her chin, willing her to stay still as he fumed at the match.

"You were injured. Why?"

"I cannot yield to you, Mand'alor." Her voice was a plea for him to understand while still holding the strength of her pride. She could feel his shift in demeanor as he extinguished the Darksaber. He was no longer angry at her persistence, but curious and saddened by her refusal to join the Mando'ade.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked while stowing the saber.

"I'm afraid I'll become exactly what I've hated for these past fifteen years. And that is where you will lead me, Din."

"Teena." She waited with her head lifted in what little dignity and pride she had left. He sighed softly and she watched his shoulders settle in resignation as he lifted his hands to his helmet, removing it slowly. "Teena, I won't lead you anywhere you can't follow."

She couldn't breathe. She reached forward unconsciously to see if this was real, but pulled her hand back before she could make contact. Several moments passed as she studied his face and his words. He would remake the Path of Mandalore as his own. He accepted his role as the sole alore to unite the clans. He had a mustache.

Teena chewed on her knuckle to try to keep a chuckle from escaping.

"What?" His voice was obviously self-conscious.

"I didn't expect a mustache."

"What's wrong with my mustache?" he demanded with a blush.

Her laughter doubled at his reaction.

"Nothing!" She brought her hand up again and traced the curve of his cheek, noticing how still he went at the touch. She tried to offer him an encouraging smile, but was distracted by a presence approaching the door.

"Tha- Thank you," she said with a heavy voice. She guided his helmet back to his head, hiding his face once more. "My Mand'alor," she bowed with a fist over her heart as a small ensemble walked in.

"Teena! Din! Look what nala helped us make!" Dev said excitedly while Na'sara looked between them in confusion and Nala held herself in a knowing manner.