Your boots splash in the puddles pooling on the brick floor of the dark, damp, underground tunnel. Everything about this day that could have gone wrong, has. Your group got attacked and separated by Death Troopers, the comm signals are kriffing jammed, the rib you think you broke yesterday is aching worse and worse by the second, and to top it all off: you are utterly, completely, hopelessly lost. Somewhere along the way, probably back around three clicks or so, you managed to shake the trooper trailing you, so at least you're not in any immediate danger of right now.

Not yet anyway.

You place a hand against the cold stone wall beside you and shudder as you suck in a painful breath. You gather strength in the Force around you, but the act isn't without a price. Something is strange in the air here. Tainted, would be a good word to describe it. You don't know if it's due to the thousands of years of wars and bloodshed that has left Mandalore permanently scarred, or if it's the current presence of the Empire on the planet, but whatever has left such a disturbing imprint on the Force is affecting you in ways you can't explain. Every second you've been on Mandalore you have grown more connected to the Darkside of the Force. It's almost as if a familiar presence has been shadowing– no, manipulating you as you've led your squadron through the rebellion. The presence has been growing stronger the closer you've gotten to the capital, despite your attempts to brush off the bizarre feeling. Now that you are here, in the tunnels beneath Sundari, you feel the shadow in an overwhelming way. The most unsettling thing about it all is that you can't help but embrace the odd connection you feel to the Darkside of the Force in this city, despite never having been here before.

You allow it to settle into your wearied bones, and the rejuvenating energy penetrates your mind and body; giving you the ability to stand a little straighter once again. You feel yourself being tugged towards the tunnel on your left and you purse your lips as you resign yourself to letting go of the control you've desperately been holding onto. You'll have to get out of here one way or another, so you might as well try a new approach.

Your body starts moving forward through the unmapped tunnels, the Force acting as your mystical guide. A small voice in the back of your head prays that wherever you are going now isn't worse than where you've been.

It's a silent march through the lonely darkness, and you estimate that you cover another click, maybe two before you come upon a distant glow of an emergency heating unit. You slow your pace as you near the stranger slouched on the wet floor in front of the military-grade device. Your senses do not register any signs of true danger as you lift your foot to step towards the figure. Just as the heel of your boot makes contact with the floor, the unmistakable hum of a viroblade freezes you in place. You flinch as the weapon raises in your direction. The stranger moves their body slightly, giving you the chance to catch a glimpse of a rangefinder in the lowlight. You sigh in relief at the sight of a telltale sign that the person before you is in fact a Mandalorian.

"Udesii! It's me," you speak calmly as you raise your hands in a show of peace.

You hear a crackly exhale as the warrior leans back against the tunnel wall, slowly returning their viroblade into its sheath.

Exhaustion. You sense their exhaustion. It's the type of tiredness that comes with war. You feel it too. Two weeks have passed since the rebellion began and even the strongest of the Mandalorians are feeling the effects. With the way the Empire is pushing back, you are beginning to doubt that they were ever really "gone" to begin with. The war may be turning in the Mandalorians' favor, but with every victory the rebels gain, the harder the Imps fight to hold onto what little they have left of the planet. Many lives have been lost along the way, and many more will be lost in the final push to claim the system.

"I am injured," the Mandalorian admits as you step into the light of the heater.

You immediately recognize his deep voice.

"Vizsla. What are you doing here?"

"This whole thing was a trap. The Imps knew we would try to take the city through the tunnels. I tried to find you before your squad was ambushed, but I… I was too late."

"Topside?"

"Our forces retreated. We have to get back to Keldabe with everyone else."

Keldabe is the latest, largest city the rebels have won and now it is serving as the new base for the Mandalorians. You chew the inside of your cheek as you process the failed siege. Both of you are in no shape to fight. If the Imps still control the city above, you have a very low chance of being able to escape unscathed. Sneaking out and finding a ship is your only option.

"Are you hurt?" You ask as you examine Vizsla for visible wounds.

You gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to a gaping hole in the side of his abdomen. Blood is soaking through the flightsuit underneath his armor.

"Knife?" You ask as you rip off your helmet to look at the wound closely.

"Death Troopers know where to aim. They took out your soldiers that were with me… I am sorry, DarJetti."

You nod somberly as you tear a long piece of cloth off the cape around your shoulders. You know in your gut that your entire squadron is gone and it hurt more than you cared to admit. You failed them. You were their Captain and now all eight of them lay dead at the hands of the Empire. If Vizsla wasn't wounded in front of you, you would go hunt down every last Death Trooper in these kriffing tunnels.

You push the cloth in your hands against Vizsla's wound and apply firm pressure while you think of a plan. It's not possible to sterilize anything and the risk of infection is high in these tunnels, but if you don't close the wound now he will certainly bleed to death. You're out of both bacta and time.

"This is going to hurt," you hum as you take out your saber and ignite the weapon.

You don't give him a second to process what your about to do as you quickly press the tip of the copper blade against his side. The sizzle of burning flesh is not nearly as awful as the sound of pure agony ripping out of Vizsla's mouth. His body convulses in shock as you remove the molten blade from the freshly cauterized wound. He takes ragged, uncontrolled breaths as you shove his arms away from his smoking skin.

"Don't touch it, it's probably already infected. I had to close it up."

Vizsla can't form a verbal response, and you know he is traumatized by your horrific treatment method. Unfortunately, there isn't time for you to feel sorry for him. Death Troopers could still be looking for you down here. You use the strength of the Force to lift the heavy Mandalorian onto his feet, pushing him up until he begins stumbling forward with your support. Your rib screams in protest under his added weight, but there is nothing for you to do now. You have to make it to a ship.

Instinct guides you: left, right, straight, left, left, straight.

You keep going and going, practically dragging the man behind you as your stomach growls in hunger. Your lips are dry and cracked. Thirsty. Tired. You must keep going. So you do. You keep going.

And then, a ladder appears. It's nothing magical or special, just a dirty metal ladder leading up to a sealed hatch. It's a long climb, eighty meters or so, but it's where your gut is telling you to go.

"Vizsla, you'll have to climb," your voice is hoarse.

His head lolls to the side slightly and an uninspiring groan rumbles out from his chest. You push him against the side of the tunnel as panic threatens to consume you. He has to make it. You have to make it.

"Mandalorian! You have to do this. We haven't fought this hard for you to die in a tunnel!"

"Pa... Paz," his deep voice breathes out with immense difficulty.

Pain. You feel his pain like it's your own and it's unbearable. You shake your head and try to figure out what he said. It's hard to focus on anything but his suffering.

"What?" You wince at how you snap at him.

"My name is Paz. You never asked."

Your lips twitch in a small smile. Paz.

Oh Paz. You can't let him die. Not here. Not like this.

"Don't tell me your name like you're about to die, Paz. We are getting out of here," you say as you fling his hands to the first rungs of the ladder. His arms weigh a kriffing ton. "The Mand'alor needs you. The Tribe needs you. Hell, I need you! We have one city left to take. One space blockade to crush. We are so close to having Mandalore. I am giving you an order; so just CLIMB the kriffing ladder, you di'kut!"

The drip, drip, drip of water echoes through a new silence.

You tense your muscles when you see his legs wobble underneath his body. For a moment you think he is about to pass out. There is no way you will have the strength to get him out of here with how tired you are. You'd have to leave him behind.

But instead, he starts to climb. Slowly. Barely. He slips a few times, but it's okay, you use the Force to keep him on track. And so he keeps going. One arm over the next. One boot at a time. One huff and one curse with each step, until he reaches the top.

You blow the exit hatch open using the Force and watch as Paz drags himself off the ladder onto the ground above, his body shaking violently. His quaking is making you nervous as you calculate the odds of him having a rapidly spreading blood infection. It's high. Very high. You swallow the fear ballooning in your throat because you just can't fall apart now.

You don't have too much time to dwell on your worry as you pull yourself off the tunnel's ladder and into a large, opulent... room? You're insidesomewhere? From your knees, you glance around at your unexpected surroundings: you note a throne sitting towards the back of the hall and an expensive, purple carpet laying beneath your filthy pants. Large glass windows line the walls with views of Sundari's glass skyrises. You now understand why you had to climb so far up the ladder. You and Paz have somehow snuck into the upper levels of the capitol building. Stars, you are in the Throne Room of Mandalore.

So why isn't security all over you right now?

You stand up to spin in a slow, deliberate circle, taking delayed notice of the twenty-plus stormtroopers lying dead along the perimeter of the room. You narrow your eyes at the sight of the bodies.

"Paz? I thought you said the rebels retreated?"

You glance down at his withering form when he doesn't answer after a moment. Maker. Please don't die on me, Vizsla.

"We did. This wasn't us," he manages to gurgle out the words as he rolls into a semi-seated position.

"So who managed to kill all these troopers?" You wonder aloud.

You start pacing the room, eyes searching for clues, when your attention is drawn to the symbols on the flags decorating the room. It's a familiar symbol, but one you haven't seen in years. A shriek hawk in full dive.

Death Watch.

You raise your hand to nostalgically trace the printed pattern as a million questions come to mind. Like why is this symbol flying in the capital of Mandalore? The Imperial signet printed on the back of the flag isn't surprising, but Death Watch? Here? Now? You thought that Death Watch was a group that dissolved during the Clone Wars…

A shift in the air snaps you back to reality.

Someone else is in the room with you.

You twitch your hand towards the saber hidden under your cloak at the same time Paz makes a warning sound from the floor behind you. You turn your head to the side, peering at him through your peripheral vision. Hesitantly, you let go of the flag still in your grasp, slowly lowering it so each of your hands hover above your trusty weapons secured to your hips.

The sound of two sabers igniting simultaneously is all you need to hear to know that your little reunion with Ahsoka Tano is going to be rough.

You take a moment to center your mind before freeing and igniting your bronze lightsaber with cool, collected confidence. Ahsoka's blades buzz with patient power as you cautiously turn around to meet her profound stare. She's strong in the Force now. You'd do well to mind yourself if this interaction turns into a full-on duel.

"Don't tell me you were the one who showed up for Grogu," her voice rings clearly in the air.

"So glad that you decided to join the fight. I thought you were supposed to arrive weeks ago?"

Ahsoka tilts her head to the side, a sparkle of interest twinkling in her eyes, "Why are you, of all people, fighting for Mandalore?"

"I owe the Mand'alor a favor."

"You never struck me as someone who kept their word."

Bristling at her insult, you lift one hand towards your helmet, raising the red helm off your face so that you can look upon the Togruta with your own eyes.

"I only want to help the Mandalorians. I am not here for a fight with you," you keep your voice low and even.

"It was foretold that your reckoning would be here. You may no longer carry a red blade, but I sense much darkness in you still."

As you open your mouth to question the woman's words, a crashing wave of clarity washes over you, sweeping you into another place far from the throne room.

You see Bo-Katan, raising her knife and plunging the reflective blade into the neck of the Mand'alor in a horrendous act of betrayal. His body falls to the floor, blood gushing from the fatal wound.

"NO!" You scream, your sight blurred by the sudden tears obscuring your vision. As fast as the vision came, it disappears, but the image of Mando dying on the floor burns in your brain like hot lava.

It was a premonition. Mando is in danger.

You sprint towards Paz, shaking his shoulders hysterically, "Where is Din?"

Paz groans against your assault, barely able to stay conscious, "On- Ship- Bo- Cruiser, Blockade."

Mando went on the Cruiser with her! Alone! After you told him not to! Stars, you knew better than to trust that he would make smart decisions without you around.

You stiffen as you remember Ahsoka standing behind you, blades still humming expectantly. Quickly, you return your helmet onto your head with a satisfying hiss and whip around to face her. You don't have any more time to waste arguing with a part-timer. You clip your saber onto your belt as you decide that a lightsaber duel with her would be the most consuming option right now. You have.. other means.

You are a Dark Jedi. Nobody, and you mean nobody, is going to stand in your way.

"Sorry about this... please, take care of Paz.."

And Ahsoka Tano doesn't have time to prepare for your strike. In a matter of seconds, you have gathered all your inner strength, all the Force energy you can collect, and all the willpower available to you in the Universe.

You wield your power to bring order to the galaxy. You are a sentinel of serenity.

Force lightning erupts out of your fingertips, rippling towards the woman with immeasurable power. She barely has time to deflect the attack against her blades, and she goes flying backward into the wall with a thud. You waste no time looking back as you leap into the window, shattering the glass with your boots so you can quite literally fly down the side of the tall building. All the fear and tiredness from earlier has been replaced with determination and raw, wild energy. You don't care if it takes you falling back to the Darkside and the ways of the Sith, you don't care if Ahsoka hates you, you don't care if you've undone all your hard work to turn to the light; you have to save Din.