"Er… Xio? That's an Asteroid. The Star Forge is a Space Station."

"Project Star Forge officially never succeeded in finding the Station for security purposes. If found, it could have easily been seized for use against the Eternal Throne. Emperor Valkorian could not allow that. Instead, my brothers found this," the droid tapped a few commands into the Fist's computer and the Asteroid lit up. I felt my jaw fall but didn't notice as I stared at the space station.

"What is this?" I asked quietly, the rest of the men and women on the bridge also too busy staring at the giant space station.

"The Foundry. A manufacturing giant of old Rakata. There are twelve levels, all suited to Skytrooper production."

"By the Ancestors…" Biggs whispered.

"Prep my shuttle." I ordered, finally tearing my eyes away from the ship. "Xio, are the facilities already prepared for-" I was halfway through the question when the ship's holo lit up and Oak's hologram was standing on the table. "Oak? What happened?"

"We found the Dar'Fett." Even from the curt reply, everyone on the deck could hear he sounded angry. But you had to know Oak to hear the tinge of horror.

"Have you captured him?"

"Negative. We've tracked him to his newest contract. It's a long term gig, Tri, but you need to get here. Fast. You, LT, and Golem at the very least. If you can get Phantom, Hotshot, and Cap here too, they'd be appreciated."

"Phantom and Cap are otherwise engaged. LT, Hotshot, and Golem are with me currently. What are your coordinates?"

"S.2343 by 15.1221. We're near the Scarif system, don't pretend you don't know where it is. I know you took Padme there at least once."

"Roger. We're currently located at B.5321 by 12.7982, it'll be at least two standard weeks before we can get to your location."

"Sector B-12? What the fuck are you doing that far out in Wild Space? You know what? Nevermind. Forget I asked. Just get here as fast as you can, Percy. And bring one of the Concord Dawn Fetts when you come."

"I am Cassius Fett, heir of Clan Fett. I can speak for my father, Cyrus." One of Hotshot's ATLAS members, and a HAVOC at that, said as he stepped toward the holo. "Will that suffice?"

"Negative." Oak said, surprising me just as much as the Fett. "Contact your father. This is… I've never seen anything like it." I felt the hairs on the back of my neck shoot up at the haunted tone in Oak's voice.

"Ryan." I started slowly. Oak's head whipped around to me so fast I thought he might have caught whiplash. "What exactly did you find?"

"An oceanic world in the middle of, galactically speaking, nowhere. What I found on it? No. You need to see it for yourself, Ad'Alor." Oak almost sounded haunted, but what scared me most was that he used my title and not any of the names we typically use. Oak was not one to stand on ceremony. "I've gotta go. I'll see you in two weeks, Tri. Ancestors go with you."

"Ancestors fight with you." I said back, even more nervous. That parting was rarely used for a reason.

"Shall this unit dispatch a regiment to your location, Oak?" Xio asked in his trademark monotone before Oak could cut the transmission.

"Er, who are you?"

"This unit is designated General XIO/9942 of the Eternal Skytrooper High Army. I command upward of four point eight million Skytroopers with a production facility to create more soon to be in operation. Do you wish for this unit to dispatch a brigade to your location?"

"Xio," I cut in, "how would you send him those troops? We don't have the ships."

"Each bunker is also a capable Cruiser-Carrier class starship. Emperor Valkorian required this in the case Zakuul was threatened and off world facilities were inoperable. The Eternal Empire was capable of ferrying its troops anywhere onworld or intergalacticly in order to rapidly engage any threat and entrench Skytroopers in a fortified position for the Emperor's Knights to utilize. Each cruiser houses a regiment of five thousand Skytroopers, Emperor Valkorian commissioned one thousand of these bunkers. Shall this unit send you a Regiment?"

"I might need a damned army," Oak muttered.

"That would require all available assets at Free Mandalore's disposal. I am capable of authorizing and directing one quarter of all Skytrooper assets to one location. Is this acceptable?"

"Woah, woah, woah!" I said, waving my hands in front of me. "Before we start sending troops all over the galaxy, what can we spare?"

"Nothing. All available assets are at your command to be used at your pleasure. I have given belayed orders for two brigades to reinforce Commander Oak while all remaining troops accompany you, Lord Vizsla. You have been designated supreme leader in Valkorian's absence. We are yours to command."

"Er… Alright then… How about we keep a regiment with us and send half of them to these coordinates," I said, showing him the coordinates for Cin'Vhetin. "Send a quarter to Oak and split the rest between one of the Naboo system's uninhabited planets and Zakuul."

"It will be done, Lord Vizsla." Xio said as he laid his palm on the holo. "Orders confirmed. All available forces have been scrambled."

"Alright. We'll see you in two weeks, Oak. The troops will be there well before we will. They're under your command but do not use them unless you have to. Do you understand?"

"I do." Oak said. "Thanks, Tri. I'll see you guys soon." The holo clicked off.

"I wonder what he found?" Hotshot said to the group, but I just grunted.

"I have an idea."

"Percy, you don't think-" Padme said before she cut herself off.

"You know something about this, Tri?" Hotshot asked, obviously surprised.

"Maybe. I had a vision the night before we left Naboo. It might (might, Hotshot) be relevant to this," I answered, Hotshot nodded in understanding. She was the one who usually had weird visions, so she would understand better than anyone on board.

"It'll come to pass or it won't. Come on, we've got a space station to explore!" Hotshot grinned as she raced off toward the hangar.

"Sir." Biggs said with a small smile. "It looks like we won't need to be preparing your shuttle. We've gotten clearance for a hangar large enough to bring the Fist in to dock."

"Even better! Bring us in, Biggs." I said with a grin.

"Elek, Ad'Alor." he snapped off a salute with a smirk playing at his lips as he took the pilot's seat again. The Fist moved forward as smoothly as she always did as Biggs brought her to one of the obviously larger hangars that could have fit another asteroid inside it. We entered the hangar and everyone on the bridge froze as we took in the sight in front of us.

"Ancestors…" Biggs muttered.

"A Cruiser?" I breathed, looking up in awe.

"Indeed. Scanning… Scan complete. The unidentified vessel appears to be a heavily modified Centurion-Class Battlecruiser. Rerouting troops to our location. Approximate arrival time: one hour." Xio said. I shook my head as I took in the arrowhead-like cruiser suspended in the hangar.

"What are the specs on that thing?" LT asked quietly.

"The ship is twelve hundred meters long. Standard armaments - according to Eternal Empircal databases - include medium turbolaser batteries, heavy ion cannons, and light point defense systems (of which there are three each, Lord Vizsla) along with multiple tractor beam batteries though this ship appears to have been heavily modified from the original design. I am detecting twenty medium turbolaser batteries on the dorsal armor alone. These are in conjunction with two quad turbolasers near the bridge and a great deal of single turbolaser batteries. The ship looks to have been converted from a Cruiser into a true destroyer class."

"So you're telling me we have a Star Destroyer that's been practically gift wrapped and ready for us to take if we want it?"

"That was my assessment, Lord Vizsla. Shall I order my brothers onboard to begin preparing the ship for your personal use?"

"Absolutely!"

"Percy!" Padme hissed, grabbing my shoulder pad and turning me around to look at her. "Think about this for a second! Why do you need a warship? If you pilot it out of here and you're caught with it the Republic will not rest until it's destroyed!"

"All the more reason not to get caught then." I grinned (not that she could see it) and took her hand in mine. "Padme, we'll be fine. We'll use it to get to Oak's location and then we'll get it back to Cin'Vhetin as fast as we can, alright?" She hesitated for a minute before sagging slightly.

"Fine. Just… Be careful, Percy."

"I am being careful, love. Xio! Does this rock have thrusters?"

"Yes, Lord Vizsla. I assume you wish for it to be sent to the coordinates designated clean slate?"

"Right on it. Get this thing making as many skytroopers as you can, I've got a feeling we're going to need them sooner rather than later. And fill that ship with all the Skytroopers we had headed to Cin'Vhetin!"

"Yes, Lord Vizsla. I assumed this was what you desired and have rerouted those troops as well. Error… I am detecting an anomaly from the Foundry's data core. Do you wish to investigate personally or shall I send a squad with engineering programing to assess the situation?"

"I think we can handle it, Xio. Thank you."

"You are welcome, Lord Vizsla. I will see to it that your newest ship is prepared. Would you like for the Fist of Mandalore to be docked into the… Error… Error… This Centurion Class currently has no designation. Would you like to assign one?"

"Dock it," I said, looking at Padme again. "But yeah, I'd like to name the ship."

"And what shall it be called?"

"Acheron."

XXX

"The core should be just around the corner." LT said, her scanners running at full power.

"Anything we need to be worried about?"

"Negative, which worries me more than if there were traps everywhere."

"Seriously hope this isn't a 'necessity is the mother of deception,' [1] moment."

"Really Golem? You've been hanging out with Jorr too much if you're quoting his code. Besides, this time around it would be more along the lines of 'what we don't know can kill us.' Weapons ready."

"Elek Ad'alor," the Strikers said in unison as Padme drew her WESTAR, flipping the safety off as the rest of us drew lightsabers and side arms of our own.

"Nari." With weapons raised, the five of us rounded the bend ready to open fire but only found a door in the dimly lit corridor.

"Kad'au, Ad'alor?"

"Nayc." I said, moving toward the door. I held my breath and took the handle, twisting the vault-like handle. The door swung open with barely a sound. I bit my lip, returning my lightsaber to my thigh holster while swapping my blaster to my right hand. "Shab binesor. Nab'alor, kama'oya. Ni dinu ke'gyce."

"Elek."

"Elek."

"Elek."

"Elek." Padme finished as she moved to the back of the group.

"Suvarir… Ye!" I barked, rushing into the room first with my pistol leveled and scanning to the left - trusting LT to cover the right and Golem to clear the center. Hotshot and Padme were watching our backs as we moved through the enormous, open room ringed with computers.

"Utrela!" LT barked.

"Utrela!" Golem called back.

"Utrela. Anade udesiir. Back to basic, guys."

"Thank the waves." Padme said, her pistol still drawn as I clipped my lightsaber to my hip. "It's been six years and I still don't understand your language as much as I'd like."

"Right, and Nubian is so much better." I shot back lightly.

"Shut up, both of you. Ancestors help me, are we here to do a job or not?" Hotshot hissed as she started examining the monitors.

"Fuck off, Hotshot. What do we have here?"

"How the fuck should I know, Tri!? I'm not a computer expert!"

"I know that. I was talking to LT."

"Oh… That makes more sense." Hotshot muttered as the room lit up. I whirled around to find LT had fired up the machines, the once dormant computers now flashing and whirring cheerfully as LT started slicing into the core… Or at least she was attempting to.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking at here, Tri… First of all, it's not in Basic or any language my protocol software recognizes, much less translates. Secondly, it's not based on a binary or trinary form… Hell, it's not even a decimal form. It looks like a base twelve? Yeah… It looks like a damned base twelve computer. I'm not even sure how they managed that… No wonder it set your newest killer droid off. Most computers and all droids are in binary while hyperspace computers are in trinary (to adjust for longitude, latitude, and elevation in the code itself), some Astromechs are programmed to be able to read and run it but there aren't very many of them and they're incredibly expensive - though I think your R-2 unit is one of them. Anyways… For a computer to be computing for more than on, off, and maybe functions? Well… I don't even know where to start, Tri, but it would probably fry any droid's circuitry just from the sheer amount of error codes it would send to their systems."

"Damn hacking it then, what can you pull from it?" LT nodded and moved to the interface keyboard, looking up at the screen as she typed away rapidly.

"Hm… Looks like there's a production history, materials inventory, current production and… Wait a second. Are those coordinates?"

"Looks like it. Note those down and get Xio in here, or at least get one of his engineers to try and crack the damn thing. If they can't do it, I'll reroute Qui Gon and HK to try it."

"Elek, Ad'alor. But I wouldn't hold my breath, Tri," LT said, typing rapidly on her arm-mounted computer. Soon enough, there was a quiet beep, and she cocked her head to the side. "Tri… These coordinates are in the Lehon system…"

"And you want to know if they're the coordinates for the Star Forge? The Star Forge's last known location was in the Lehon system, yes, but there's no promise those coordinates lead to the factory. HK and I found a Star map on Rakata Prime years ago and it showed this station, the Star Forge, and something called the Gravestone's statuses. The Star Forge hadn't transmitted back in four thousand years. So, the coordinates could have been sent here that recently, sooner, or (Ancestors forbid) even before that. I think Revan found the damn thing in the Lehon system too. For all we know, those coordinates could be older than the Jedi. What we do know is that Oak needs our help. If the Star Forge is actually there, its waited for four thousand years. It can wait a month. Oak needs us now. I don't like making him wait any longer than he has to."

"Agreed. He needs us. How long until the Acheron is ready to cast off?" Golem asked. I tapped my helmet to check my onboard chrono (I damned well learned my lesson after dad stole my wrist-mounted one on Yavin IV) to see that half an hour had passed already.

"Thirty minutes. It took that long to get here and it'll take us just as long to get back, this damned place is just too big."

"Yeah, tell us about it. A hangar big enough to fit a full sized battlecruiser? It's insane."

"It is, isn't it? But Tri?"

"Yeah, Golem?"

"Where in the name of the Ancestors did you come up with the name Acheron? Hell, what kind of a name is Acheron anyway?"

"It's Greek."

"Oh, yes, because that explains everything so perfectly," Hotshot deadpanned.

"You're going to have to give us more than that, Tri."

"Oh for the love… You think so too, LT?"

"I've gotta admit, I'm curious."

"Damn you all," I muttered as we walked out of the data core and were making our way back.

"Is that anyway to talk to your wife, Mr. Vizsla?" Padme asked with an edge in her voice. I gulped nervously as I glanced over at her through my visor.

"No, love, and that wasn't aimed at you, just these three idiots. Besides… You already know most of what I'm about to tell them."

"Oh come on!" Hotshot threw her hands up and gave me her trademarked death glare through her visor. "You've told her stuff you haven't even told us!?"

"Uh, yeah? Comes with the territory of being married to her. Isn't that right, Mrs. Xophos?"

"How did you know that!?"

"You just told me." Hotshot obviously wasn't happy with that, so I dug the knife a bit deeper. "Please, you two had been all over each other since before the Naboo invasion… And you call me and Padme sickening."

"If you're done antagonizing my wife, Ad'alor, will you answer my question?"

"Hmph, ruin all my fun." I sighed, taking Padme's hand in my own as we kept walking. "But where to start…"

"The beginning is usually good." LT snarked.

"Hah, joke's on you, if I started at the beginning then we'd be here all damn day… You all know that I was a foundling, right?"

"Yeah, you've told us, boss." Golem said.

"I'm sorry, foundling?"

"I'm adopted, Padme. I know I've told you that before."

"Yes, you have, sorry…"

"Don't be." I squeezed her hand reassuringly and carried on. "Did I ever tell you that dad found me on Tython?"

"No, no you didn't."

"Well, he did. The strange bit is that I wasn't born on Tython either. All I remember from my childhood before dad took me in is that the world I was born on was called Earth and I'm pretty sure that in terms of space flight they had only made it to their moon… They were a backwater world, hadn't even made it out of the slugthrower era yet."

"If that's true, then how did you end up on Tython?" LT asked.

"That is an entirely different can of worms that can be summed up as the will of the Force."

"Ah. Please, continue."

"Thank you for your permission, Lieutenant." LT tipped her head back as I chuckled darkly. "But yeah, I don't think they had ever gotten further away from their little ball of rock than their moon. I don't remember much else but I do remember my mother, Ancestor rest her, telling me stories about the religion my dad followed. A whole polytheistic pantheon with like a million gods for everything from storms to a tiny ass stream in the woods. If you could think of it there was probably a god tied to it. But, like any good religion, it has to have an incentive or else you'd never follow it, right? Well, in the case of this religion, the last destination for the soul was the Underworld. The Underworld itself is complicated enough but, basically, it had four places your soul could go: bliss, punishment, mediocrity, and Hell - yes, one of these things is not like the other. The Hell of this religion was technically an Underworld underneath the Underworld, this is where things get interesting. If you were sent to this Hell below Hell, there could be six places you could end up: in one of the five rivers or, if you were really evil, the fields. I'm a little hazy on the details since it's been so fucking long but one of the river's names was Acheron - the River of Woe."

"Dude… That's badass."

"Of course you'd think it was, Golem." LT deadpanned. "So you named it that, why?"

"Other than it's one of the only links I have to my mother?" Everyone besides Padme winced. "I just liked the name."

"So you're not trying to bring Woe to your Enemies then?"

"Hotshot, I'll be honest, that thought never even crossed my mind." I said sheepishly as everyone in the corridor burst out laughing.

XXX

Kamino System…

"Where in the name of the Ancestors did you find this behemoth!?"

"It's good to see you too, Ryan, welcome aboard the Acheron," I grinned as I clapped my old friend on the shoulder. It had taken every second of the two weeks I guessed it would take to get here, but the Acheron managed it just as well as The Fist would have. "We found it in an abandoned factory carved into an asteroid. I figured since no one was using it and it was just sitting there collecting space dust that Free Mandalore could use a destroyer."

"You're probably right. But it's really, really fucking good to see you, Percy. Is Cassius with you? His father is desperate to speak with him."

"I'm here." The sandy-haired Fett said, stepping back from the Acheron's comms array. "Where is my father?"

"We'll meet him on the surface. Right now, he's supervising my recon teams. I even managed to convince Phantom to lend me out one of his ECHOs for a little while."

"It's that serious?" I was stunned. There weren't that many ECHOs in circulation and - as far as I was aware - there wasn't a single one that didn't have a mission to complete. If Phantom thought that pulling a man out of one of his assignments and putting them here to infiltrate was the best move, then this was far more serious than I knew.

"Worse. The Dar'Fett is here and we have eyes on him, Cyrus is already frothing at the mouth to get after him."

"But…"

"But there are some… Complications."

"Damn it, Oak!" Hotshot blurted out, "just tell us what the fuck you found there and get it over with!" Oak sighed and took his helmet off, massaging his forehead tiredly.

"You asked for it, Tara, remember that," Oak tapped a few buttons on the holo, linking his helmet to the machine. I felt my jaw fall open at what I saw.

"By the Ancestors…"

"Percy…" Padme took my arm, looking up at the screen in horror. "Is this what you saw?"

"Saw?" Hotshot cut in. "This was what your vision was about!?"

"Partially." I admitted, still staring at the (admittedly grainy, bouncy, low-quality) recording - it honestly looked like a camera was strapped on someone's shoulder, and the thing was recording while they walked. "I saw clones of the Dar'Fett trying to kill Jedi, the bodies of the clones in the Jedi temple… And some here listening to a Sith declare that the Republic was now a Galactic Empire."

"And you didn't think you should maybe tell us!?" Hotshot hissed. "Oh Ancestors… The Sith is Palpatine, isn't he? Damn it, Tri, don't fucking lie to me either!"

"It's likely, yes, but his voice was too gravely for me to really recognize it and his face looked like a scrotum so I can't be certain."

"But you think he is." Oak sighed, sliding a hand down his face as he braced himself on the holo with the other. "Damn it! So there are two Sith still around and we only have one of them in custody."

"Thank the Ancestors for Carbonite." Golem muttered. "Is he still with Death Watch?"

"Yeah, we didn't think it would be a good idea to transport him across the galaxy back to Cin'Vhetin so he's on Concordia. You know that someone frozen in carbonite can survive hard vacuum, Ancestors… They can actually survive just about anything. If a ship failed in hyperspace with Maul on it then it's just a ticking time bomb for us."

"But you're afraid the Kyr'alor will let him loose." Surprisingly, Cassius said that. I whirled around to meet the Fett's understanding eyes and sagged slightly.

"Yes. Yes I am. If Concordia is being overrun and Dad thinks that a berserker could help - especially if the Jedi get involved - then he'd free him from the carbonite… Ancestors help us if that ever happens."

"You speak true, Ad'alor… Have you given thought to what might happen if a rift is formed between Death Watch and Free Mandalore?"

"That would mean I'd be forced to go to war with the man I call father, the man who raised me up to be a Mandalorian, Cassius… Forgive me if I don't give it too much thought."

"That's understandable, Ad'alor… But if your father releases the Sith then he has betrayed all we stand for."

"You're talking about treason, Fett," Hotshot hissed. "If I were you, I'd be really careful about what I say next."

"Tara…" Golem tried, but she cut him off.

"No, Sam! He's over here talking about overthrowing the Kyr'alor because he fucking might let some Zabrak out of his cage!"

"No." I cut in, getting everyone on the bridge's attention. "If my father releases Darth Maul then he is an ally with our enemy. Father knows what Maul is, if he chooses to ignore that to satisfy his wrath toward the Jedi then he is lost. But it has not happened. Ancestors willing it never will. Right now, Darth Sidious is our main concern as his resources and political power are, quite frankly, enormous if Darth Sidious and Sheev Palpatine are in fact one in the same. So tell me, Hotshot, what would you do if your leader, regardless of their relationship to you, released the apprentice of the man - no, the fucking Sith - who practically rules the Galaxy? Would you kneel before him like a good little servant or challenge him like the Mandalorian you are? If (and I mean if, damn it) my father releases Maul then I will deal with his betrayal but the fact of the matter is that he has done nothing! What matters right now is dealing with that planet full of Fetts! Suvarir!?"

"Elek, Ad'alor!" Every Mandalorian on the bridge barked as one.

"Ori'jate! Get back to your stations! All of you! Helmsman!"

"Elek, Ad'alor?"

"Scramble every fighter we have, set a picket line around the hyperspace lanes. Scramble the Fist based Talons close to the Acheron or near the hyperspace lane itself, the ATLAS members should be ranging but also ready to reinforce the Talons at the drop of a helmet. Blockade this Ancestors damned planet, no one gets in! And it goes without saying that you make sure the damned Dar'Fett doesn't fucking get away!"

"Elek, Ad'alor! It will be done!"

"Get to it then! Xio!"

"Yes, Lord Vizsla?"

"Scramble a Battalion to fill in the gaps between the Fighters, but don't leave a single gunner position empty! If the Fighters can't get him and the Acheron can't shoot him down then I want the Skytroopers to sabotage his ship in any way they can. Their main objective should be slagging the transparisteel around the cockpit or compromising the engines. Turbolasers are not permitted unless it looks like he's about to jump to Hyperspace or I give the order. We need his body for the bounty if we can't bring him in alive."

"Understood, Lord Vizsla. Scrambling Skytrooper units now. All gunner positions are manned and ready."

"Good. Biggs! You're with me!"

"Elek, Ad'alor!"

"Everyone else! If you are unnecessary to the operation and function of this ship, you're with me too. We're going planet side."

"Elek, Ad'alor!"

XXX

"Well… Isn't this suitably gloomy?" Hotshot muttered as the Fist cut through the rain and wind with ease - our shields humming at full power as we slipped through the atmosphere.

"Isn't that the truth?" Oak sighed. I nodded but didn't say anything, choosing instead to watch the waves and rain crash around the city in the distance as we stood at the bridge.

"What city is this?" Padme asked quietly from my side, LT and Hailia on her left both equally enraptured by the sight out of the transparisteel.

"According to the ECHO," Oak said, tapping his helmet to try and find the right entry, "this is Tipoca City, capital city of Kamino. The ECHO assumes that the Kaminoans are career cloners or do all their reproduction matters by cloning just off what he saw here."

"Great." Hotshot growled. "So they're inbred idiots?"

"Worse, they're greedy, frighteningly intelligent beings that are mostly scientists." Oak sighed, his helmet bobbing as he looked over at me.

"And these are the ones cloning Jango. How shameful that one that claims my name would submit himself to this for coin." Cyrus Fett spat. The clan head's black armor glinted dangerously but not as dangerously as his eyes. The man was infuriated, even if he wouldn't let an ounce of that fury show on his face or body language. "What is to be done with the clones?"

"That's your decision, Fett'alor. We do not choose the circumstances of our birth," I said. The man turned to look at me, surprise and curiosity showing equally in his brown eyes.

"Of course, these clones are nothing but boys. Yet I thank you, Ad'alor, for your faith in Clan Fett."

"I have faith in all my men, Fett'alor, but this is not my decision to make." And now I had everyone's attention, but Cyrus and Cassius were razor-focused.

"How so, Ad'alor?" Cassius asked, but my eyes never left his father's.

"It's simple: this is the business of Clan Fett. They share your blood even if they do not share your name, even if they're the forced spawn of that fucking traitor, this is Fett business. If you wish to welcome them into your clan then that is your decision to make - but if you do not then we will see. Ultimately, this decision is yours, Fett'alor. Even if you do not accept them as Fetts, will you accept them as Mando'ade?"

"N'mav. Vor entye, Ad'alor. Gar'sha ke'gyce ni ti." Cyrus said, bowing his head respectfully.

"Thank me when we have to rehouse them, Fett'alor." I smirked. "I've heard Cin'Vhetin is suitably miserable this time of year."

"Cin'Vhetin is always miserable, Ad'alor." Cassius cut in good-naturedly. "But why not leave them here?"

"Where the Sith know where they are?" I asked, making the Fett heir turn the same color as curdled milk. "Exactly."

"Forgive my son, Ad'alor, he's ambitious. No matter how much effort I expend to teach him the ways of temperance."

"We're Mandalorians, Cyrus, we're not exactly famous for restraint."

"Ah, yes… Long has wanton destruction been the calling card of our people. Yet, all that battle prowess serves none if you are dead, Ad'alor." I paused for a second, mulling that over in my head.

"Huh, maybe you're right… Can I ask you something?"

"But of course."

"Why did you leave Concord Dawn? Why join me?" There was a beat of complete silence as Cyrus mulled the question over. Eventually, he answered as cautiously as he could.

"My decision was not as simple as you believe it to be. I was faced with a choice, join you or join your father. Two men who want a new Dawn for Mandalore, two sides who will do anything in their power to help our people. You have found our people a new world, a new start for us! Your father, though, still plays his games with the Duchess. His constant attempts to influence us into attacking our own people for his gain are distasteful to me," Cyrus said. "You would not attack our people, you see every Mandalorian as an ally. We are all Mando'ade in your eyes. Like me, you cannot bear the thought of another Mandalorian civil war. Your father would spark one if he thought he could become Mand'alor from it. Clan Fett stayed neutral in the battle between Death Watch and Mereel's merry band of mercenaries… My father saw the infighting as fruitless, and I agreed with him. Though how Jango became involved with Mereel is beyond me but he rose high indeed, becoming Jaster's protege."

"Is that why dad hates him?"

"Partially. Your grandfather, Tor Vizsla, led Death Watch at the time. One of Mereel's men, Montross, betrayed his leader. Unsurprisingly, the war was won by betrayal… As war is too oft won between our people. Your father struck the killing blow on the last Mereel, supposedly ending the war." I nodded, recognizing Montross' name, but the rest of it…

"I never knew that…"

"No, it's not a story your father likes telling. His father died in that battle, after all. Your father slew Mereel and Jango slew your grandfather."

"Oh…" I said; everything so much clearer now.

"Indeed. It would have been shortly before you were born, Ad'alor. Your father's wrath cooled tremendously when he found you. If not for you, I believe the Kyr'alor would have thrown himself into hunting the last so-called True Mandalorian to the ends of the cosmos."

"Jango…" I whispered, my mind racing at the implications.

"Yes. Jango, my clan's greatest shame." He confirmed, but there was still one question burning in my head.

"How do the Jedi fit into all this? The two who protected the Duchess?"

"Ah, yes, them. The elder works for you now, correct? Yes… Well, after Mereel fell, an Ordo attempted to take his place. The Ordo was more radical than Mereel by orders of magnitudes. The Ordo's first act as the Alor'ori'ramikad was to attempt an assassanation on the Duke. It was successful. If it weren't for Death Watch managing to kill the Ordo when they did, I fear we would have seen a new regime rise from the ashes of Sundari. It was the first time in centuries Clan Fett roused for war, but Death Watch acted quickly after the Duke's death and made our intervention unnecessary. Your father could not take the throne either, his forces were too far depleted and the Duke was smart. Not only did he increase the numbers to the City's guard but he sent them with his daughters into hiding. The difference being the royal family was sent with the Jedi Knights while the guards were scattered throughout the cosmos. When the Jedi got word that the Traditionalists had been supposedly destroyed (which was true in the case of Ordo's faction but we both know the fate of Death Watch), the newly crowned Duchess returned to Sundari city with her Jedi guards and an army at her back that Satine called a police force. The Jedi left after the situation looked to have finally settled some months later but the guards remain to this day." I nodded slowly, remembering a few of those events - especially the death of the Duke.

"Yeah, I knew some of that but I had no idea about everything behind it. Dad never talked about the Ordo, though."

"The Kyr'alor likes his secrets, Ad'alor. Though why he would hide this from you is beyond me."

"Yeah, me too." I growled, pulling my helmet on as the Fist rapidly approached Tipoca City. "Prepare yourself, Fett'alor. I don't think we're going to like what we find here."

"No, I think not." he agreed tightly, pulling on his own helmet as we turned to make our way to the hangar to meet up with the landing party. As soon as the father, son Fett duo left, I felt a hand slip into mine and saw the distinct glint of Padme's golden armor.

"Are you okay?"

"No, no I'm not. But let's get through this before we talk about it, okay?" She squeezed my hand lightly as we stepped off the bridge as well - LT, Oak, Golem, and Hotshot all close behind.

"They've finally seen us, Percy." LT muttered across the comms.

"Once we're right on top of them." I scoffed. "Amateurs."

"We could have obliterated them from orbit and they'd have had no idea who killed them." Hotshot scoffed. "Especially in that fancy new warship of yours, Tri. You could probably glass a planet with it!"

"That's possible," I said thoughtfully, "but only as a last resort, understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Hotshot chirped. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. If there was anything Hotshot was, it was bloodthirsty.

"Right… We have no idea what we're getting into here. We know they've force grown a mythosauric shit load of Jangos but we only have an idea as to why. If the Kaminoans are in fact growing an army, we need to be prepared to face any trainers the Dar'Fett might have brought in. Oak, you said he lived on world right?"

"Yeah, he lives here."

"Have you seen anyone else that looks out of place?"

"Negative. While the Kaminoan's deep space and near-astrosensors are apparently nonexistent, the ECHO reported that their internal security is state of the art. Even with his cloak, the cloners would have been able to see him as soon as he got in the door. He slipped a nanobug onto one of the Kaminoans, named Nala Se, to learn as much as he did."

"And where is the ECHO?" I asked as we stepped into the Hangar to find that every Mandalorian was in full assault mode.

"He was here for a day and then disappeared, Ad'alor," Oak said nervously.

"It's not your fault, Oak. I'll ask Phantom about it after we figure out what the Hell is going on here."

"Elek, Ehn'ragir." Oak barked. I nodded once and motioned for him, LT, Hotshot, Golem, and Padme to follow me. The locked step as we moved to the ray shield separating the Hangar from the rain-drenched city beyond. We stood in front of the shield and I turned around, taking in the sight of my regular troops, Heavies, HOGs, and HAVOCs all ready to storm the gates.

"Mando'ade!" At once, everyone in the hangar snapped to attention. "We don't know what we are about to walk into. This is a cloning facility filled to the brim with clones of that fucking aruetti, Jango Dar'Fett! They're kids, yes, but what were you doing at ten years old? Huh!? Training to fight! Training to kill! Aani Mando'ade! If it comes to a fight, we fight as Mando'ade! Fire if you are fired on, kill if you are threatened! Take no prisoners and show no mercy! But do not shoot first! If we need to, we'll kill every living being on this stilted hunk of metal and then slag it from space! But if they are peaceful, the clones are to be considered Mando'ade too! On me, Mando'ade! On me!" I barked, turning back to the ray shield with a silence behind me that screamed louder than cheers - we are Mandalorians, and we are ready. I was the first out of the Fist with the Strikers by my side, and as soon as I felt my boots hit the metal, I knew something had changed. I felt incredible. Indescribably powerful, unspeakably strong… And I also knew that the Kaminoan facing me was scared shitless of what the company of Mandalorians in front of him could mean for his business.

"Welcome to Kamino, I am Taun We. I am afraid Tipoca City is already under contract. What is your business here?" The Kaminoan (flat-faced, long-necked, and black-eyed) female asked in a surprisingly calm tone.

"I am Perseus Vizsla. We're not interested in your business, only in a man named Jango Fett," I said flatly. "Hand him over and we'll leave peacefully."

"I am afraid I cannot do that." The Kaminoan actually sounded regretful. "He is a template in an active contract. We, of course, have his DNA on file but so easily does that become corrupted… Having the living source is a boon to us, we cannot let that go. Not even to fulfil your vendetta."

"And how would you stop us?"

"I am afraid I could not, the clones are not yet proficient in blaster combat."

"But we are, Vizsla." A woman's voice, cutting as a lightsaber, sliced through the rain. I shook my head as a group of ten bounty hunters in Mandalorian armor dropped from the sky - all of them with their weapons aimed at my group of a hundred… These idiots were either incredibly stupid or thought I was backed by the standard dime-a-dozen half-trained Death Watch grunts that dad liked to send on sacrifice missions and thought they could actually take us.

"Rav Bralor…" I called back, taking in the distinctive black and red armor the woman wore. "I thought you died. And you, Jango," I felt my lips pull up into an almost shark-like grin, "you should have died twenty years ago on Tython."

"Ah," the Dar'Fett grunted, "you're that kid, then. Should have known Vizsla would adopt ya. You were enough of a headache when I met ya and he's always been a pain. Are you here to kill me?"

"How'd you guess?"

"It's what your grandfather would want. Your father's always been his minion, even when old Tor's been dead for decades. But you… You're different than them. Why, by the Stars, do you still answer to daddy dearest?" The Dar'Fett asked with his head cocked to the side, his pistols hanging limply in his hands as I locked visors with the man.

"He's my father. I won't betray the man who took me in, not unless he betrays me."

"And he'd never do that? Heh, you're blind, kid." Jango scoffed, finally bringing his blasters up as the Kaminoan finally wised up and ran the Hell away.

"Who said he wouldn't? The man would sacrifice his own mother if he gained something from it," I growled, pulling my Lightsaber and pistol.

"Ha! Maybe you're smarter than you look. But even if you kill me here, you'll have to kill me a million more times before the work is done, boy."

"Not according to Cyrus Fett." I grinned, and Jango froze where he stood. "He's willing to accept every clone of yours as a Mandalorian, if not a true Fett, unlike you, Auretti." Jango didn't say another word, choosing to whip his pistols up and open fire. My lightsaber ignited with the signature hiss as I felt power surge in my gut. I didn't even need to try and touch the Force to see the blaster bolts flying at me in slow motion. I raised my lightsaber and my pistol, sending a volley of return shots toward where I judged Jango would be, and deflected his own bolts back to where he was standing. He stopped just long enough for me to realize that he was stunned by what just happened and launched himself skyward to avoid the barrage of blaster bolts that were sent screaming back at him. Unfortunately for him - that was exactly what I wanted.

I felt a horrible tug in my gut at the same time the waves around the city shot into the air, surrounding the city complex and cutting off any way of escape except by air. Unfortunately for Jango, it never stopped raining on this Ancestors forsaken world. Jango didn't make it twenty feet off the ground before he was snatched out of the air by a giant hand and slammed back down onto the metal landing platform.

He didn't even twitch.

The brevity of the battle was only matched by the intensity of the fight. In the end, the ten mercs managed to take more casualties than they sustained - taking down seven of my fighters, a HAVOC (from a lucky shot), and three Heavies. Golem's HOGs were mostly untouched, thankfully - but, to a man, every single mercenary fell to my men.

After twenty long years, Jango Dar'Fett was dead.

I felt the wrenching in my gut disappear, but my head felt like it had been bashed in by a rancor. I fell to my knees, clutching my head as visions flashed before my eyes. I wasn't on Kamino anymore, and I wasn't in my armor, well… Not exactly. I was wearing armor but not the armor I had grown up in. My gauntlets, tassets, shin protectors, and spaulders were gone leaving me with a breastplate and open-faced helmet as I stood in what was more than likely the most primitive city I had ever laid eyes on.

Concrete and glass stretched for miles on end, land speeders with wheels were being tossed aside as a battle raged in front of my eyes. I saw a Krayt Dragon unlike any other tower over me, its demonic yellow eyes burning under his enormous horns. It was unlike anything I had ever seen… And it was charging straight at me - and I was charging straight at it. I heard the screams of the men at my back, those begging me not to face the beast, but I knew I had to.

One thought rang in my mind as I looked up at the monster as clear as a bell: Drakon.

I met his eyes, and my world upended itself again. I wasn't in the city anymore; instead, I was sprawled out on the rain-soaked metal that was the landing platform on Kamino, my men surrounding me with the corpses of the Dar'Fett and his little gang strewn out. Some of them had gaping holes torn through what had to be durasteel armor from the Heavies' cannons.

But the Kaminoan managed to avoid the carnage and was standing off to the side, her normally wide eyes almost engulfing the rest of her face. Rising to my feet was a challenge, but I forced myself not to let it show as I stood face to face with the stunned Kaminoan.

"You attacked us." I growled, my pistol and lightsaber still in my hands. The Kaminoan raised her hands in what was more than likely surrender.

"I did not order this attack on your person, master Vizsla. You have my sincerest apologies that this… Travesty happened at all."

"Heh, you said it yourself, Jango Dar'Fett was a template in your newest project. You gave him lodging and paid him, he was your employee. You hired him and he hired them." I pointed to the newly made corpses that were being relieved of their weapons and armor by my men. "So, Kaminoan, he was your responsibility. He attacked us, you employed him. You may not have ordered it but you are responsible."

"Surely, we can come to an arrangement, master Vizsla? I value my life very highly. Whatever price you ask, I will see it done." My lips pulled up in a grin that was more of a snarl.

"I want every clone of Jango Fett you've ever produced or will ever produce."

"My Lord," the stoic Kaminoan was almost on the verge of panic now, "I am afraid that those are under contract with another. Unless you can match the other client's figure, I could not allow you to take them in good conscience."

"And who is this other client?"

"A man named Tratus came to us on behalf of the Jedi Order." My eyebrow shot up at that. The Jedi would never send someone to start an army unless the Order didn't know about him…

"Are you sure this man was a Jedi?"

"Yes." The Kaminoan nodded sagely. "He and his benefactor, Sidious," and there it was. This wasn't a Jedi. It was a fucking Sith, "arranged payment for the Clone Army through an account verified to be from the Jedi Order. Our services are the best in this region of space, Master Vizsla."

"Those were no Jedi. Do you understand who these men are?" The Kaminoan tilted her head, but other than that, she gave nothing away.

"No, no I do not… Would you enlighten me, master Vizsla?"

"They're Sith." I growled. She blinked.

"My apologies, but we are not well informed of the outer galaxy's legends and myths. What little information we receive is from desperate sentients attempting to find a cure from terminal illnesses, they believe in the ridiculous notion that we can transfer their consciousness into a clone if it is a perfect clone of themselves… Oh, I digress. Yes, we are not well informed, master Vizsla. Would you like to come inside? I am afraid you cannot possibly bring all of your men, we simply do not have enough space available for them."

"Yeah, let's do that," I said slowly, processing everything she said as quickly as I could. "Strikers, Padme, Cyrus and Cassius, you're with me. Mando'ade!"

"Ad'alor!" my little army barked in unison.

"Gayiylir bal cabour!"

"Elek, Ad'alor!" The troops barked as they took to the skies and moved to cover the doors leading to the city.

"After you, Taun We."

XXX

[1] - From The Seventy Maxims of Maximally Effective Mercenaries

[A] - Translation Guide:

Nari - Command to Move or Act

Kad'au - Lightsabers

Nayc - No or Negative

Shab binesor - Stack up

Nab'alor - Leader of Naboo

Kama'oya - Stay back

Ni dinu ke'gyce - 'By my word,' or On My Command

Suvarir - Understood/Understand

Ye - Go

Utrela - Clear or Secured

Anade udesiir - Everyone at ease

Ori'jate - Excellent or Very Good

N'mav - I will

Vor entye - Thank You

Gar'sha ke'gyce ni ti - I am at your service

Alor'ori'ramikad - Supercommando leader

Ehn'ragir - 'Spear of three,' or (lit.) Trident

Aani Mando'ade! - 'You are children of Mandalore!' Lit. You are Mandalorians!

Gayiylir bal cabour! - Spread out and defend!