Disclaimer: I do not own star wars or any of its character and while plot points are from various RPG games I take no credit for their origins only of their application in the story therein. This a labor of love and not for profit though if Disney or Lucas Arts would like to hire my creative brain I'd be more than happy to drop everything and come running. Please read and leave a review.

Star Wars

Episode 5: Mandalorian Grief

Chapter 1: Shock

Onboard the Outcast:

The med-bay was now silent. The ship's engines provided the only ambiance. The steady hum was only interrupted by the occasional beep of medical equipment. It was surreal to think that only hours before the room had been filled with the keening wails of the crew.

Era didn't know how long the tears flowed, but in the end, they were halted by Jarek's gentle command. They couldn't stay on Pybus. It wasn't safe. Everyone was still in shock, but somehow the crew decided to return to New Meen. It was the closest thing the Outcast had to a home port, and it seemed the most fitting place to give their friend a proper funeral.

Everyone, including Era, moved with a sort of numb detachment towards various tasks. The trip back to Ryloth was a long one, and everyone seemed desperate to find something to occupy the time. Madlyn had gone to the bridge, while Tersen stumbled to the engine room. Once Era had given her approval, Slick limped after his girlfriend.

Jarek was the last to leave, aside from being the captain he was unsure of where he could be useful. Era suggested he try and get some rest. Once she'd finished with Jacek and Gare, she'd give him a proper examination. His face was as unreadable as his helmet. There was no telling just how hurt he was. She gave him something for the pain he would be in once his mind caught up with his body. The Mandalorian nodded wordlessly before exiting.

Now only she, Jacek, and Gare remained. With an effort of will, she pushed her emotions down so that she could concentrate on what needed to be done. Her trained analytical mind took over. Jacek still needed work, and Gare's body couldn't-shouldn't be left in such a sad state and none of the crew members were in the right frame of mind to do what needed to be none.

Era had already stabilized the smuggler en-route to the Outcast. Using the equipment available in the med-bay she was able to close the wound properly. She even managed to save his kidney. He'd have a hellacious scar but at least he'd live.

Which was more then she could say for Gare. It didn't seem right leaving him as he died, swathed in battered and bloody armor. It had taken Era the better part of an hour to build up the courage to begin preparing his body for burial. When she did, it was at a slow and methodical pace. Several times she'd paused to steady her emotions before continuing. Once she'd removed his armor, the archaeologist had made a point to clean and examine his wounds.

At one point the old man had roused from his sleep. Once he'd learned Gare's fate he'd said nothing. He remained still and watched the archaeologist work. In the silence that followed Jacek lay, his hands still gripping the Siren's Song.

The artifact had scarcely left his grasp even when he'd lapsed in and out of consciousness. But at that moment it wasn't the cluster of shimmering crystal that possessed the smuggler's vision. His gaze was fixed forlornly on the figure lying opposite draped in the shroud of the dead.

"I'm ashamed to admit it," Jacek intoned weakly.

It took her a moment to realize Jacek had even spoken. "Hmm?" She was in the middle of preparing Gare's body, and so didn't bother to look back at her patient.

"When I first met Gare, I didn't think very highly of him." At his words, Era paused to look back at him. The old man looked pitifully at Gare's face. The gank's countenance was such that he could've been asleep. "I thought he was little more than hired muscle," he explained. "How wrong I was." Sighing he shook his head but winced and went still.

When he had come to initially he'd asked what had happened. Era only had the heart to say Gare and died saving them. Any more detail threatened to shatter what little emotional fortitude she'd managed to garner.

The moment he realized Gare was gone he suddenly appeared much older. Though worn and run down by his choice, Jacek had always maintained some small manner of manic determination. Now he looked as if all the trials of the intervening years had settled upon his face at once. It made him look all the sadder. His eyes reflected the white light with unshed tears.

Era looked away hoping to preserve some of the man's dignity, but unfortunately, that made her focus on the ruined state of her friend's body. She felt a cold stab of anger and sadness as she beheld the damage wrought by Gaegan. Though she was a healer a part of her hoped Jarek had made the Death Watchman suffer. The Era from University would've been appalled by the thought.

But in the end, it didn't help with the task at hand and the rage fizzled out. It was followed by a wave of guilt which was quickly stomped out by her rational mind. The process repeated itself until she was numb.

Even had she been there. Even had they gotten him to a med-center, Era couldn't be sure he'd have survived. The beskad had completely severed his spine slicing and rupturing several arteries, nerves, and vital organs. Between the trauma and immediate blood-loss, it was amazing he held on as long as he had.

"A fighter," she whispered barely able to keep the trembling out of her voice, "To the end."

In a way, it felt cathartic tending to his body. She hadn't been able to save his life, but perhaps she could do him the honor of preparing him for death. She took her time cleaning the blood from around the wound before applying a patch to hide the hole. Then she set to work on his face. Era wondered why he bothered with the mask. The wolfine contours of his expression, while intimidating were also elegant when they were relaxed. In his repose, she could almost see what he would've looked like had he been born free. Before a lifetime of slavery and fighting for a Hutt's pleasure had carved too many hard edges into his expression.

Pity and empathy twisted in her gut. Her heart ached to know that Gare would never know a life of peace. Hands clenched as she imagined the brutal violence of his death and a part of her wondered if his spirit would be able to find rest in such torment.

Invocations she'd long thought forgotten came unbidden. Childhood memories of the chancel on Mirial flashed through her thoughts. The words fell from her lips as if she'd never stopped reciting them. "Oh you fates," she whispered, "Gentle and strong, merciful and cruel." Her hand found his. The cold absence of life made her shiver, but she still gripped it tightly. Her eyes closed as the old prayer came as naturally as breathing. "Take this spirit and lead him upon the winds of your guidance and discretion. Allow him peace within the unifying providence of his life."

By the time she looked up, she found Jacek was staring at her. Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep into her cheeks she busied herself with finishing up the preparations. She decided to remove his shattered cybernetic arm and wondered if Tersen would be up to replacing it. Gare deserved to be whole at his funeral.

After awhile Jacek asked, "Fate is the faith of your people?"

Era had known the question would come. Similar queries always arose whenever someone heard her prayers or witnessed her prostrations. Sense leaving Mirial for University she quickly found out that the wider population of the Galaxy did not believe the same as her. Though they were too polite to say anything she knew her classmates and professors found her spiritualism amusing if not pointless. With her studies demanding more and more of her time she found herself spending less time in contemplation. Eventually, she stopped all together accepting that the beliefs of her ancestors were outdated and no longer appropriate for contemporary times.

And yet here she was, reciting the chants as if she were a child kneeling in service. Like nothing had changed. "But so much has changed," she thought grimly.

"My people are...deeply spiritual," she explained, speaking carefully, "We – they practiced a primitive understanding of the Jedi religion. They believed each individual's actions contributed to their destiny, building upon past successes and failures to drive them towards their fates."

As she spoke more memories rose up playing upon her already tormented soul. Her father had been understanding, but there had been no hiding the sadness and disappointment in his eyes. Though he'd been upset when she'd announced her desire to drop out of University, it paled in comparison to her denouncement of their – his beliefs. Dropping out had angered him, but the moment she'd abandoned her faith had been what truly broke his heart.

"Do you still pray for me papa," she wondered feeling a sudden tightness in her chest at the thought. Out loud she continued to explain. "Within their belief system was the view that individual actions ripple through the Force, also affecting the destiny of our species as a whole." She made sure he understood what she was referring to. He nodded in acknowledgment that he was familiar with the old religion. Era pressed on almost grateful for the distraction. "Because the Force was understood through the notion of the Cosmic Force on a basic level, the cultural significance of the energy was defined as fate. Those who were not sensitive to its call still had faith in fate, and felt that it guided their lives."

Jacek asked a few more questions, and Era answered to the best of her abilities. It had been so long since she'd studied the philosophies of her people, but her eidetic memory proved that her past was never too far out of reach. It felt good revisiting the old lessons. The more she spoke the less her heart seemed to ache. They reminded her of simpler, happier times.

"Beings die," Jacek stated softly. At present death was understandably a tender subject. He paused and waited until Era nodded for him to continue. "but is that something we make as a choice? Or is it the other way round of having fate choose us the death?"

Era thought on his question. Her answer came in the form of one of her father's philosophical sermons. The thought made her want to smile and weep at the same time. Instead, she began her explanation, doing her best to channel her father's wisdom.

"The only single perennial truth of one's existence is that we all perish and that our choices falter. Choosing to die or fated to die, doesn't epitomize one's existence.

But, it has a literal subjugation one might ponder upon. Is it possible to denote death with either a choice or the fate, since all die at the end? Death is just an end of the journey none of us choose for ourselves."

"We're all born of a mother, but was it our choice?" he challenged still keeping his voice soft with a touch of hopeful curiosity.

"Certainly not, maybe our parents choice," she replied moving to cover Gare's body once more out of respect. She paused only briefly to collect her thoughts. "So how can one call the death which is the other essential dichotomous end of Birth, to be a choice?" They continued on Jacek posing a question and Era answered. With each inquiry, it felt like her father was in the room delivering the lesson instead of her.

Does one choose their death or is it possible to choose a death? Gare may not have wanted to die, but he certainly didn't shy from the prospect. He stood firm expecting whatever fate might throw at him.

But what about the choices they made daily? The choices that lead them to Pybus, that drove them away from Mos Shuuta or guided them all to the Outer Rim.

That's where they are bestowed by their fate to make choices. The irony of Life is that all beings get to choose some, while there are others which one really can't choose upon. And that's fate.

"Fate is certainly not an option that can be made," her father had once preached, "Just like the way, we think a stone is a stone and it can't be water. They are fated to become one of those. Now, a stone certainly doesn't have the luxury to choose upon getting thrown or crushed. Well, that's our presumption. They can resist. And that's their fate. Fate is something which bestows some precept for the way things are supposed to be, upon which we have no knowledge." When he gave his benedictions to the huddled children of the cloister father had always looked resplendent in his scapula. "Life is filled with more mysteries than we have found answers for. And this Life encompasses the whole universe and the cosmic force as a whole, which some are never fated to know. So do we make choices here or is it already there in our fate?"

In a more direct lesson, her father explained that fate has a collective symposium, wherein everyone is interlinked with all other sentients. "But do we make choices of who we are to meet today or tomorrow? Certainly not. Its there in our fate. Fate is the bigger part." A rueful small spread across his lips.

"But, this shouldn't discourage people to make some bold or good choices they think would do them good or good for the others. Choices certainly exist. And it's our fate of being alive that gives us a multitude of choices to make for ourselves, unlike the stone. We have an advantage over the stones in most of the matters, and that's what we are fated to do."

Beings make choices daily, but do they know what those choices would lead to? Never! All they can have is some approximations about the consequences of the choices they make, but certainly not about the end that it would lead to. So approximation and fate are two different contexts. One is a probable fate or an improbable fate and other is the final verdict.

Imminent death is certainly not a choice, its all there within their fate. It all comes down to how one faces it.

Era felt breathless by the time the conversation wound down. Like she had run the length of the ship and back, but in the place of her sadness, she sensed a small bit of euphoria beginning to develop. It felt as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders and a familiar and welcome warmth seeped back into her soul.

"He saved my life on Pybus," Jacek stated. Era looked at the old man with a curious expression. Jacek was no longer looking at the mirialin. He was staring at Gare's reclining form. For a moment his eyes took on a faraway look as if a memory was playing out across his vision.

"It may have been my fate to die in that hole, but he saved me," Jacek whimpered, eyes glistening, "And I never thanked him." Grunting with an effort he sat up in obvious pain. Era tried to stop him but the old man waved her off. They locked eyes and Era saw the look of grim determination on his face. Era knew it was her that had dragged him from the crumbling tomb that was Vortga's vault, but it had been Gare who carried him bodily out of that place to safety. She'd perhaps saved him from himself, by Gare had saved his life.

Nodding in understanding, she stepped back.

Taking a deep breath Jacek levered himself upward until he was standing next to Gare's gurney. The Siren's Song, which up until that point he'd clung to his chest for dear life, was placed ever so gently on the table next to Gare's head. He looked down at the serine figure of his savior. "Thank you, Gare of the Outcast, for saving this old burnt out spacer." He caught Era's eye before closing his eyes and bowing his head. "You did more then you will ever know." The moisture shimmering at the edges of his vision trickled along the crags of his face. "Thank you," he added in a soft quivering tone.

Era looked upon the exchange in bewilderment. Jacek had spent years searching for the Siren's Song, sacrificing everything to find it, and now he was just giving it up? It didn't make sense to her. At first. Then the realization dawned on her just as a lump rose in her throat.

The treasure was meaningless to Jacek now, because Gare had given him something far more valuable. An opportunity to make amends. To become the man he once was. By saving him, Gare had given him hope for the future. Given her hope. For in his death had he not helped the mirialin rediscover what she'd thought lost?

"Thank you," Era whispered, the tears once more running down her cheeks. She wasn't sure if she was addressing Jacek or Gare. Maybe both. She couldn't explain it, but somewhere she could've sworn she felt her father smile.