"The Admiral is mine," you snarl as you march to the bridge of the cruiser in front of your cavalry of Mandalorians.

You stab the blast door with your lightsaber and begin cutting through the barrier with ferocious determination. On the other side of the metal wall, you can hear panic ensuing as the Imps realize someone with a Jedi weapon is coming for them. The thrill of taking over an Imp cruiser alongside a group of warriors who match your prowess in combat is addicting. For several weeks you've been battling for Concordia, and your soldiers are proving to be the most successful squadron from the Tribe. Even the Mandalorians who doubted your leadership skills now respect you. You are proud of your cavalry and the trust you've built together. Being their leader makes you feel like you belong. Like you have a place in the galaxy where you aren't so alone. For the first time in your life, you aren't itching to move on from where you are. The only real challenge you've been facing lately has been your struggle to maintain your inner peace throughout this war. The Darkside pulls you in heated moments of battle, but finishing your studies of the Jedi Holocron has kept you in check. Your Dark Jedi code has kept you balanced, just barely, through the ups and downs of this pivotal insurrection against the Empire.

As you kick in the blast door, your soldiers follow you onto the bridge, easily eliminating all the Imps in record time. A flicker of fear crosses the Admiral's face when he sees you standing before him with your golden saber blazing brilliantly. You circle him, like a predator sizing up her prey, taking glee in the way his forehead shines with apprehensive sweat. This man worked closely with your Master as you trained in the Darkside. He paid Crimson Dawn billions of credits in weapon trades during the Empire's reign. You wonder how many innocent lives he has taken in his lifetime. You wonder how many lives he is worth.

"Remember me? Last time we met I was still an apprentice to my Master," you hiss through your teeth.

"I remember that your Master thought you were a failure," he spits in your face.

With a diabolical smile, you step closer to the Admiral, rising to your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Yet, the Apprentice lives."

Taking a reverse grip on the hilt of your weapon, you bring your lightsaber above your head and slam the hissing blade into the Imperial officer's chest. I wield my power to bring order to the galaxy. Dragging the blade down swiftly, you completely slice through his thorax, ending his pathetic life instantly. You disengage your saber and close your eyes to silence the swell of Darkness expanding in your gut.

"Check the long-range sensors," you order one of your soldiers.

"Nothing on the scans, Captain."

Captain. You'll never get used to hearing the strongest warriors in the galaxy calling you Captain.

"We got lucky, they didn't have time to send out a distress signal this time."

Everyone has been surprised by the number of resources the Empire has used to defend Concordia. Either the Empire is getting stronger by the day, or they never really were defeated in the first place. You have been deeply concerned by the desperation of the Empire to hold onto the Mandalorian system. When the Empire gets desperate, they do unspeakable things to achieve their objectives. They've had their fair share of time to prepare weapons designed to keep Mandalorians oppressed and you suspect they will use them when the time comes.

A transmission beeps on your comm and you open the message to see Mando piloting the Kestrel.

"Were you successful?" He asks as he banks the ship aggressively to the left.

"Of course, I'm offended you even had to ask."

"Vizsla just secured the outpost. If you can take out the last bombers we will have the upper hand."

"Already on it," you flash him a confident smile and click off the transmission. Hologramming and flying seems like a bad idea, even if Mando considers himself an "excellent" pilot.

Taking a seat in the Captain's chair, you tell your soldiers to set coordinates for the bombers. With this move, you could turn the tide of this battle.

You could win Concordia.


Watching the Tribe jubilantly celebrate their victory in the Concordian outpost lifts your spirits. You chuckle to yourself as you watch Vizsla lift Lika in a massive Wookie hug. She allows him to sweep her off her feet and spin her in a celebratory circle. The sweet moment between the two of them creates a ripple of joy through the Force. What an interesting pair they make.

This is the first time the Tribe has won a battle against the Empire since the fall of the Republic. The poignant thought causes your mind to wander as you imagine your own clan being here with you right now. They would be proud to be standing amongst these Mandalorians. They would be proud of you. Blinking the wishful thinking away, you drift towards the Kestrel quietly, hoping to avoid any attention from the boisterous victors. While you are genuinely happy for their success, all you really want right now is a moment alone to take care of something very important. Something you've been dying to do since you finished learning from the Jedi Holocron.


You prop your feet up on your bed as enter the transmission information for Fett's palace into your communications device. As you wait for Fett to answer the call, you start untangling your tight braids. A hot shower so you could wash the grime out of your hair would be nice.

"You need something, Princess?" Fett's helmet appears on the grainy hologram.

"Can't I just call to say hello?"

"You need something."

"I need something."

"I'm not helping the siege of Mandalore. I have my own problems."

"It's not that. I, uh... Well... How do I say this? Can I keep the Krayt Pearl?" you wince at the crack in your voice when you finally sputter out the question.

Silence. You tap your fingers nervously as Fett considers your outlandish request.

"You don't have the credits to pay me for a Krayt Pearl," he growls after a minute.

"Nope."

"If you run unpaid jobs for me for a year and you can keep it."

"An entire year? That's-"

"Worth less than your bounties," he interrupts.

Now it's your turn to remain silent as you consider his offer.

"Fine."

You cut off the transmission before Fett can answer. You didn't want him getting cocky and adding more stipulations to your agreement. A whole year running jobs for his karking Cartel on the worst planet in the galaxy. It's kriffing criminal! You sigh dramatically as you leave your room. You suppose working for Boba Fett is still a better option than running from him. You did consider stealing the pearl, but you know he would send hunter after hunter for you. If Fett was right about one thing all those months ago on Tattooine it was that you can't actually manage three bounties at once. At least not in these trying times.

As you turn the corner to head towards the exit ramp of the ship, you find yourself walking face-first into a large, unexpected wall of beskar.

"Oof!" You exclaim as your forehead smashes into the impossibly strong iron.

Stepping back to rub your face, you look up to see the Mand'alor- Din- Mando. Stars. You still don't know what name to think of when you see him. You haven't exactly gotten around to telling him that you know his name. Not that you've had any real opportunity to anyway.

"Careful. I didn't know you were here. I was going to solder some wires in the cockpit," he rumbles as he steadies you on your feet.

"I'm surprised she's in as decent shape as she is. You're kind of an irresponsible pilot," you tease him.

"Me? You permanently damaged the hyperdrive! She'll never run as smoothly as she once did, thanks to your little stunt back on Dantooine."

"That's because you didn't fix it properly. It's not my fault your mechanical skills are shoddy."

He scoffs and tilts his helmet at you. A pregnant pause in the conversation makes your face heat up. You notice your heart fluttering as you take in Mando's looming form. You hadn't seen him in person in nearly two weeks. Every time there was a rendezvous the two of you missed each other. Seeing him again makes you happier than you care to admit. As much as you've grown to enjoy the other Mandalorians in your squadron, you still preferred Mando's company over anyone else.

You turn and start walking towards the cockpit to hide your blush, "I can help you with those wires."

"It's good to see you again," Mando's gravelly voice replies as he dutifully follows you to the cabin.

It's good to see you too, you think to yourself giddily.


"So have you thought about if you are going to return Mandalore to the ways of the past? Following the Way and expanding into new territories?" You ask Mando as you shrug off your robe in the cockpit.

"Bo-Katan will have to decide. I've asked her to meet me so she can take the Darksaber back."

A chill runs through your body as you get an overwhelming instinct that tells you something with Bo-Katan is going to go wrong.

"You cannot trust her."

"I don't. But I'm willing to give up the Darksaber, so I don't see what I really have to lose."

You chew your lip as you study the Mandalorian's shiny helmet.

"There may be more to this than you realize, I just have a feeling something is off," you crouch down under the control panel and lift off the cover to access the wires.

Mando passes you a toolbox and you start working on soldering the damaged connections. Maker, this ship has been through a lot. You're surprised she's running smoothly at all.

"What are you going to do once we win Mandalore?" Mando asks you quietly as he begins working next to you.

"Funny. Vizsla asked me the same thing. You two waiting around to ask for my hand in marriage or something?"

"You're deflecting."

"I'm going back to Tatooine," you state matter of factly.

"What? Why?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go and it's not like I can just conjure up credits through the Force. At least not yet," you laugh softly.

"You could pilot trade ships for Mandalore."

You snort, "If Bo-Katan is ruling, I won't be allowed to step foot anywhere near this system."

The sigh from your beskar clad companion makes you frown. Maybe he had never considered this skank in the scud pie. Whoever rules Mandalore will have a heavy influence on trade in the sector. Trade routes, trade agreements, licenses, prices, checkpoints. Everything. You'll have to stick to the other side of the galaxy.

"Tell me why she really hates you so much."

Laying down your tools, you wiggle your way out from under the cramped console. This is as good a time as ever to tell him, you suppose.

"The beroya. My beroya. She was like a sister to me. We only knew each other for a short time, but she was the first real friend I ever had. She and I ran jobs together. Crazy, reckless, insane jobs. One day, Bo-Katan ordered her soldiers to kill her as payback for a hit I had once done for Crimson Dawn. When I found out the Night Owls killed her, I located one of their coverts and slaughtered everyone there."

Mando inches out from under the dash to look at you. You know telling him was a risk, but keeping your history a secret is getting harder and harder every day. You would rather him hear it from you than from Bo, even if it changes the way he thinks about you.

Swallowing thickly, you continue, "I was still following the ways of the Darkside at that time. I was deeply entrenched and loyal to Crimson Dawn. Bo-Katan murdered the only person I had in the galaxy... and I just snapped. I really do regret what I did. But I can't go back and change the past."

Mando's gloved hand raises to rest on your knee, "I would have done the same thing for Grogu."

You nod appreciatively at his words, but you can't help the unease settling in your stomach. Your bloody history with Bo-Katan is one thing, but Mando finding out who your Master really was will be another. His understanding may only go so far. This is why you need a plan for after the war.

"We should get back to fixing the Kestrel's wires. You really put her through the wringer, Mandalorian."

"You know, the Tribe and I would protect you. If you wanted to stay," Mando offers as you lower yourself back under the console.

"I'll think about it," you murmur with a twinge of regret.

You didn't have the heart to tell Mando you already made a commitment to Fett. Besides, you have a strong feeling that Mando's vision of the future isn't exactly going to pan out the way he thinks. After all, chaos is the most reliable element in the galaxy, and you can sense it building around this Mandalorian rebellion. Some things are bound to go wrong somewhere along the way.