Every single proximity alarm on the Sterling Kestrel shrieks as three TIE fighters start closing in on your position above Dantooine. Mando is working out the calculations for the jump to hyper at an agonizingly slow pace while you jitter your leg in frustration at him.

"Just let me take us out!" You beg as you slide out of the copilot seat, reach under his arms, and grab for his safety belt.

He wriggles against your invading hands, "Dank Farrik! What are you doing? Stop unclipping me! You can't just make the jump without plotting through the hyper lanes!"

"Yes, I can! It's called lightspeed skipping," you basically clamor over him; one knee on his metal lap, the other foot dangling off the chair, one hand on his helmet, and the other hand braced on the dash. "I. Can. Do. It." You start flicking switches and pressing buttons on the panel recklessly.

"Are you crazy? No!" He tries to shake off your hand pressed against his visor.

The ship rattles as a TIE hits one of the laser cannons, strengthening your resolve to get the two of you out of here as soon as possible.

You successfully undo his safety belt while he is distracted by the attack, "I'm the better pilot!"

"That's it. You're insane. Get. Off." He pushes your hip and tries to move you off his lap, but you plant yourself to the dashboard with all your strength.

"I'll use the Force!"

"You told me that's not how the force works!"

Another TIE hits the same canon, causing the Kestrel to shake violently. You both tumble out of the seat and land on the floor tangled up in each other's limbs. This is your chance! You feistily push his helmet into the floor and climb over his chest to drag yourself up onto the pilot's chair. He makes a small "oof" when you use the Force to keep him pinned down to the floor while you buckle up. Now you have to work your magic. Fast.

After a whirlwind of punching in coordinates, tapping into your instincts, prepping the hyperdrive, and turning off the safety protocols, you sneak a glance to the new copilot. He is clipped into his chair with his arms crossed bitterly, pointedly refusing to look at you. With a grin, you pull back on the Kestrel's leaver and she leaps into lightspeed. Smooth as a snort of spotchka!


Four jumps. It takes you four random and extremely risky jumps to make it to Takodana. The flight leaves you slightly winded from the thrill of breaking the rules of space travel. At one point, you thought the gravity well of the second planet was going to tear apart the Kestrel, but she held steady and did her job perfectly. You brought the two of you to Takodana in half the time it would have taken had you used the hyper lanes. Sure, the engines are on fire, the coolant is boiling and smoke is filling the cargo hold, but that's not important. The two of you made it here alive. There is no way you could have waited any longer to jump. Where there are TIE fighters, there are Imp cruisers and an Imperial cruiser would have been a death sentence for you both.

Mando unclips his belt, stands up, unclips your belt, and sweeps you out of the pilot's chair onto the floor like you are some kind of pest in his way.

"Hey! I just saved our lives!" You whine as you push up onto your elbow.

"You destroyed my ship," he starts the landing sequence; pressing a thousand unnecessary buttons to try to assess the damage.

"It's not destroyed! You can be so dramatic sometimes."

The alarm for the auxiliary generator starts to beep incessantly as soon as the words leave your mouth. A small explosion as the generator overheats makes you sigh. What rotten timing.

"That's going to be expensive to replace," you blurt out.

If helmets could kill, you are sure you would be dead right now.


Heavy boots clunk towards you as you sit on the steps outside of Maz's temple.

"Dar'jetti! Su cuy'gar!"

The sound of Vizsla's voice makes you smile. You scoot over, making room for him to sit next to you. For the last few hours you've been wandering around Maz's castle and the tunnels underneath. Half the Tribe is on Mandallia, but the other half is still here, making battle plans for the siege of Concordia. The Foundlings wouldn't stop following you around, asking you a million questions about why you are here, so you snuck away from them for some peace outside. The day is too beautiful to be spent underground anyway.

"How is it to be home?" He bumps you with his armored shoulder.

"Home? This isn't home, Vizsla. It's nice to see the Tribe again though."

"It's one thing to be a Dar'jetti. To be dar'manda is another."

You look at the blue helmet, "I may know some Mando'a and be friendly with a handful of Mando'ade, but I am an aruetii. Always have been."

Vizsla nods towards your knife, "If this is true, you should not carry the kal."

"It was a gift," you counter defensively.

"From the Mand'alor?"

Sighing, you lean back on the steps behind you, "No, the only thing he ever gives me is headaches."

Both of you chuckle and he gestures to the sun setting behind the trees, "I'm going to miss the beauty of Takodana."

"Mesh'la," you hum in agreement.

"Are you planning on sticking around Mandalore when we win?"

His question sets you on edge and you sink your nails into your palms in annoyance. First the Foundlings, now him too?

"What's it to you?" You temper your voice.

"Easy there. Just curious."

"I don't plan on being on a planet enforcing the ancient Way," you tread carefully.

"Din won't make anyone swear the Creed, not unless they want to."

"Din?"

"The Mand'alor..."

You lean away from his armored body in shock. Your mouth hangs open as words elude you. This isn't a spice dream is it?

"I thought you knew his name. He is going to have to get used to his followers knowing it when he rules Mandalore." Vizsla placates you by patting your knee.

"I can't believe you just told me his name!"

"The Way doesn't forbid anyone from sharing their name. He's just secretive. Maybe that is why you two get along so well."

"Kriffing hell, Vizsla. He's going to kill you."

"I'd like to see him try!"

You huff out a laugh as you roll your eyes at his cockiness. What a bucket head.

You and Vizsla stay outside on the step until the last stretch of light disappears from the sky. It turns out, Vizsla is actually really easy to get along with. He's clever and honest, but surprisingly relaxed. His carefree nature gives you a nice break from the stress from the last few weeks. You hadn't felt this at ease in many moon cycles. By the time you both wander back into the tunnels, the rest of the Tribe is gathered in the forgery, waiting for Mando to start going over the plan for the siege. Smiling briefly at Vizsla, you take a place hidden in the back of the room, out of sight from as many Mandalorians as possible. No need to draw too much attention to yourself. You know they don't exactly trust outsiders, especially one's who can use the Force.

After a few minutes, Mando prowls into the room and you suck in a breath at how quickly all the other Mandalorians kneel from him respectively. Karking hell, he really is treated like a King here. You giving him a mocking bow when he passes you and giggle when you hear his exasperated sigh faintly through his helmet.

His voice is authoritative when he speaks to the crowd, "Let's go over the plan. The soldiers on Mandallia are going launch a ground assault on the Imperial forces on Concordia while we take out their blockade around the moon. We will split up into five groups. I'll take the Kestrel, along with three soldiers. The three Kom'rks will escort the Calamari cruiser. Lika will captain the cruiser, the Armorer, Vizsla, and our Jetti will captain the three Kom'rks."

You raise an eyebrow at his announcement. This is the first you've heard of your new promotion to Captain.

A Mandalorian with orangish armor speaks up, "The Dar'Jetti is leading a squadron of Mandalorians?"

He is a Mandalorian you recognize, one of the original Tribe members from years ago, you met him a few times.

"Trust me. I'm capable," you say as you step out of the shadows.

"You're a little small to be intimidating."

"I wouldn't underestimate my abilities."

"The same abilities that protected the beroya?"

You grab your lightsaber from your belt and grip the hilt so tightly that your knuckles turn white. How dare he bring up you beroya. You must control your emotions with focus.

The orange helmet sweeps across the room before settling back on you, "Why did you even come back here? Guilty conscience? Did you expect to be welcomed back with open arms? You think we've forgotten about your sorcerer ways?"

His badgering makes you feel numb. All the fire inside your spirit, the hate, the passion, even the anger goes out of you. You can't take these Mandalorians and their long grudges. Part of you hates how his questions echo in your head. Why are you even here? Do you even know yourself? The seeds of doubt start to grow as you shrink away from the gaze of all the emotionless black visors. Being back here is hard enough, be back here unwelcome is too much. With a curt nod towards the Mand'alor, you snap your cloak and leave the forgery. This is not the time to pick a fight. Walking away is better.

Your footsteps are loud in the empty tunnels as each click from your boots matches the rhythm of your pounding heart. If you try hard enough, you can almost swear you hear the voices of all the people you've lost who used to live here. A crash halts your hurrying and you tilt your ear in the direction of the sound of a brawl occurring back in the forgery. The clanging of beskar being sliced at by a lightsaber- no a Darksaber- piques your curiosity enough for you to turn back. By the time you return to the arched entryway, you see the room full of Mandalorians looking down at the orange armored Mandalorian on his back, panting beneath the tip of the ignited Darksaber.

Mando's voice is laced with anger when he speaks to the soldier, "Wherever I am, she is welcome. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mand'alor," the soldier acquiesces.

Kriff. The tug on your heart as Mando stands up for you in front of his Tribe makes your cheeks warm. You slip away from the archway and back into the tunnel, not wanting to be seen gaping at Mando like a di'kut. As you scurry towards your quarters, you can't help the smile plastered on your face.

Mando'a Translations:

Su cuy'gar! - You're still alive!

Aruetii - outsider, foreigner

Dar'manda - the state of being "not Mandalorian" (No longer Mandalorian)

Kal- knife

Mesh'la - come on. everyone knows this one.