"We know your name, Cora Vizsla, as that of a traitor." The Armorer's voice was barely a whisper, but it bellowed across the main chamber of the covert. The mass of people surrounding Din were electrified with fury in the knowledge of what Cora had confessed to doing. It was hot and stifling to have so many bodies pressed against one another in the small room, and many more overflowed out into the tunnels, but Din had managed to secure a spot at the back of the room. Everyone stood silently, listening to the Armorer's judgement. Their leader stood over the slumped form of a young woman barely out of adolescence. Even from the back of the room, Din could see the woman on the ground shake as she silently cried behind her helmet.

It wasn't right. Din knew it wasn't right. She didn't deserve this. Cora had done nothing wrong except trust in a man she shouldn't have. He was her commander, and she followed his orders. Cora had even protested her distaste for what he was doing, but followed him anyway because she was duty bound to him. And she was being cast out for him – taking the blame for his sins because her commander had more to loose than she did.

All around, members of the Tribe stood in angered silence as they watched one of their own – the last daughter of an ancient noble house – be cast out and stripped of everything she was. Paz stood before both his half-sister and The Armorer, shaking his head so lemnly as he watched her identity be ripped from her. To those around him, he shook his head in disapproval of his sister's actions. But Din knew better. Paz shook his head because if he didn't, the dam of his emotions would break at the sight of his beloved baby sister before him. She was reduced to nothing and it nearly destroyed Paz. He stepped forward, pulling his sister up by her arms to stand. His hand trembled as he reached for her armor, pulling piece by piece off of her and dropping them into a pile at her feet. The dull clank of beskar hitting the stone floor made Cora flinch. Each crash was a cruel taunt that her armor would be melted down or handed out to others; never again for her to cherish.

Finally, when all that remained of her dignity was her helmet, she let her emotions well over and wailed a soul crushing sob. Din's guts twisted at the sound. He knew that fear of having his helmet removed – everyone in the room knew that fear. It was instinct, honed in from a young age, to never let anyone remove your helmet. But it was the last and final indignity Cora would be made to face. She didn't try to stop Paz from pulling her helmet away. She even didn't beg to make amends to the Tribe and redeem herself. Cora just cried as her brother reached for the edges of her helmet. Reverently, Paz gripped the base, but his arms stalled. Some thought it was to prolong her torment. To be made to wait until he decided she had had enough. Let her sob and cry all she wanted for the shame of the crime she had committed. But Paz stalled because it was cruel to make him do this. It was cruel and unfair to be the one to unmask his sister. The Armorer had commanded he be the one to do this so everyone would truly feel the shame Cora had brought not only to herself but her family and the Tribe.

"We know your face, Cora Vizsla, as that of dar'manda." Paz's voice warbled slightly as he finally raised her helmet revealing his sister's face. Everyone knew Paz doted on Cora like she was his own child. Paz was well into his teens when Cora was born to his father and step-mother. And after the fall of Mandalore and the death of their father, Paz brought her into the covert and raised her in the Tribe. Cora was the last of his flesh and blood and he had been so proud of her when she left Navarro with her commander on her very first hunt. If it had gone to plan, if Cora had succeeded in what she left to do, she would have been sponsored into the bounty hunters' guild and an apprentice under her commander. She would have been supporting the covert and the Tribe, contributing to the greater whole like the dutiful Mandalorian he raised her to be.

But here she stood, dar'manda before the only family she had left. Her head hung in shame. Rivulets of dark, wavy hair cascaded forward, hiding her face from the tribe. But this trial was not meant for her to hide from the Tribe. She was made bare-faced not only for them to witness her shame, but for Cora to see their fury with her own eyes, undistorted by her visor. The Armorer gathered the locks in her hand and pulled so Cora was forced to look out at the crowd.

Cora's amber eyes scanned the room, taking in the sight of each helmed person who stood before her as a murmur finally began to sweep and grow. Indignation, anger, disappointment; all of this felt by those before her. This was the face of a traitor; of a woman who's crime was so great she would never be allowed to atone. She was named, stripped of her armor, and made soulless. And she was innocent.

Din and Paz knew she was innocent. Even the Armorer had her suspicions. But she confessed. She confessed that it was all her doing. Cora allied with the wrong people, deceived her commander, and caused the murder of innocents; the murder of children. She hadn't fired a single shot from her blaster, but she took the blame for it all.

And while she confessed, her commander cowered behind her. He stood in this room, in the crowd before Cora, watching her be resigned to a fate worse than death. And he did nothing. If he did anything, he would loose everything. So she lost everything in his stead. Her commander was a coward. He was lost to the Path of the Mandalore. But he would never face the repercussions of his actions.

Cora's eyes landed on Din and stuck to him. Amber eyes like fire burned him with their shame. Shame that she didn't stop her commander until it was too late. Shame that she let Din go to Azloc III. She saw what he did; saw the way Din seemed to enjoy the wanton destruction of everything in his path. He hated himself for what Cora saw. Hated that he had lost so much of who he had been to the Xi'an and Ranzar Malk. He had lost his way while in their company and he was too much of a coward to stop what was happening to Cora because of it.

She had come with him for a simple bounty hunt on the Armorer's orders. Cora was finally ready to leave the safety of the covert and find a way to contribute to the Tribe. She wanted to be a bounty hunter. Mercenary work was well and fine for some of their covert, but there was a sense of prestige to bounty hunting in Cora's mind. There was a sense of honor in finding and capturing criminals and Cora knew she could get the most credits for the covert if Din's success was anything to go by. The Armorer had watched her for some time, and knew Cora would be a good protégé under Din. She had a decent set of skills that Din could help to hone and sharpen as he sponsored her way through the guild. Cora was a decent marksman and fighter, but was in many ways the opposite of her brother. She was nearly as tall as Din and pretty solidly built from years of training under Paz. But where Paz excelled at heavy combat, Cora was built for speed and agility like Din. It should have been an easy grab and go on a planet only a few light years from Navarro. But he let them get caught up in one of Ran's schemes. It would have been such a score. Almost triple what he and Cora would have made on the bounty alone. She confided in him that she didn't like the idea of working with the mercs, but he told her it would be fine.

Din's heart fell into his stomach as she held his gaze. She was taking the fall for him. She was now nothing because of him. He knew why she was doing this. He knew it was because even in his wayward state, he still contributed more to the covert than she did. He was a bounty hunter with a reputation for good work and he was paid well for that work. Din was starting to get first pick of the best bounties and brought so much back to the covert. Without him, it would take years for her to even get sponsored into the guild let alone get her pick of decent bounties. Years of meager offerings that would amount to one or two of the bounties Din made in a single hunt. She confessed because in the long run, it was what was better for the Tribe. Tribe first, always.

"This is the way." The Armorer stated above the crowd as she let go of Cora's hair and picked up the discarded armor from the floor. She walked into the crowd as they murmured their reply and parted for her return to her forge.

Slowly, members of the tribe exited the main room. Once they were gone, Paz would lead Cora out of the covert one last time where she would be abandoned on the street and left to fend for herself. Din watched his tribe slowly mill their way out of the room and into the tunnels, but kept a watchful eye on the siblings at the front of the room.

Paz held his sister's head in his palms, gently whispering to her. His head was lowered so the top of his visor rest gently against her hairline. He loved his sister with all of his heart and part of him broke at the fact that she would never be allowed to return to him. Din knew Paz wanted great things for her. It had been many a night when she was younger that Paz would boast to anyone who would listen about her progress in combat training or in how she practiced the old songs. He was a proud man; proud of his ancestry and heritage, proud to be a Mandalorian, and proud of everything his sister was and would become.

And Din's rash decision and cowardice lost the siblings to one another. Paz would never forgive him for this. Never. And Cora… She would be nothing but a ghost to haunt Paz's memories.

"I know your name, Cora Vizsla, as my sister." He whispered to her, a small rebellion that Paz could only commit because it was for her.

"No, Ori'vod – Paz. Your sister is dead." She pulled her head away from his, bowing so it rest against his chest plate.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la." Din heard her cries swell again as her older brother whispered kindly in their native tongue. Din knew as much Mando'a as any other foundling. But the two Vizslas were fluent and spoke it to one another nearly as much as they spoke Basic. It had made some of the other foundlings jealous when Cora was younger. As if her fluency belittled the foundlings' adoption. Din found it a hard language to learn. It was a tongue twister of a language and had only retained a few of the most basic words and phrases. But when spoken by a native speaker, Mando'a had a strange lilt to it that Din found enticing. In the mouth of a native speaker, the wide vowel sounds with softer consonants seemed to contrast with the harsh image most Mandalorians evoked. Which was what made it so effortlessly Mandalorian to Din. Outsiders only saw the stark reputation and hard edges, never the softer side of his people. Never side that cherished family above all else. Din got lost in those views the outsiders held of him – valuing the almighty credit over the honor he was supposed to bring to the tribe.

"Ready?" Paz quietly asked. She shook her head against his chest, still sobbing roughly though try as she might to hold them back.

"No." Cora eventually managed to croak out between her sobs.

"I promise you will be fine, Cor'ika." Paz gently stroked her hair back away from her face. Cora didn't want to pull away from her brother. She didn't want to leave the covert and only home she had known for the last decade. But she had to. With one final sigh and a hand roughly wiping the tears from her cheeks, she pulled out of her brother's embrace. He turned to lead her out of the covert but stopped in his tracks at the sight of Din still standing in the room. Paz said nothing as he rested a hand on Cora's shoulder to lead her out of the covert. But Din blocked the door before they could slip passed him.

"Cora –"

"Usen'ye!" Paz barked at him.

"I want you to have this." Din ignored the larger man to hold out a handful of credits towards Cora. It wasn't much, close to 50 credits, but it would be enough to either find lodgings while she looked for work or book passage off of Navarro.

"50 credits?" Paz pushed Din's hand away. Indignation oozed from his form at the sight of Din's money "You hide my behind my sister's sacrifice and offer 50 Imperial credits? Coward."

"Paz," Cora interrupted him, pushing him forward and past Din, "what's done is done." They didn't take the money as they left, but Cora did glance behind her to see Din one last time. He wished she could have seen the pain in his eyes as she left. Wished he knew some way to tell her he was sorry, some way to take it back and correct his mistake.

He had made one feeble attempt to change her mind after she confessed, but Cora would have none of it. He knew she was hurting over the whole situation. Hurting over her impending exile and excommunication, about Din not being the person she thought he was, about never seeing her brother or friends again. He knew she did not make her choice lightly. Din knew that his feeble protest and easy resignation to let her do this to herself only proved she was the stronger, better of the two. She faced an unfair fate because it was the right thing to do for the good of the covert. He let her with nearly no protesting.

His hand clenched around the meager credit chips as the siblings left the covert. Paz was right. He was a coward. He couldn't let it continue. He had to change if this is what his fool headedness wrought. Looking to the giant mythosaur carving on the far wall, Din made a vow to himself, to the tribe, and even to Paz and Cora; he would earn his honor and pride again. No more merc work. No more Xi'an or Ran. No more partners to distract him from what was important: The Tribe, the covert, the foundlings. If Cora could be brave enough to face being made dar'manda for them – for him – then he needed to repay her sacrifice. He needed to commit everything to the tribe.


*Ori'vod – Big brother

*Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la – "Not gone, marching far away." A tribute to the dead

*Cor'ika – diminutive nickname, Little Cora

*Usen'ye – Go away / fuck off

This chapter is set 10 years before season 1, everything after this will be mid-way season 1 and forward.