Serana floated in the place that was not. The darkness stretched out all around her, speckled with stars and constellations she almost recognised. Paths led between them, black on black. The wolf sat beside her. It nuzzled her shoulder comfortingly.

You did well, it said.

"Is it true?" she asked. "What the Cult believes, that she's the Daughter. Is it true?"

She's not the Daughter, it said. No more than two twins are the same person. The Daughter is dead. She's… It sighed. This is hard to explain. She's linked to the Daughter. To the memory of her. She has some of her power. That's the best way for you to understand it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Serana rounded on the wolf. "I've done what you've asked, and it always turns out there's something more, something you're keeping from me. Why? Why not tell me the truth from the beginning?"

Because I didn't know, the wolf replied. I'm not some all-knowing being, Serana. I knew she was incredibly powerful. I knew that the Jedi wouldn't stop until they had her. I didn't understand the true nature of what she was until you met that cultist. It lowered its head. I'm sorry. For what it's worth.

"What do you want now?" she snapped. "Haven't I done enough for you?"

Watch, it said. It vanished, then reappeared in front of her a second later. Learn.

"Learn what?"

Learn this. It vanished and reappeared again. Learn this. It nodded to the space around her. Learn.

"Serana?"

She jerked awake as Ashla shook her by the shoulder.

"What are you doing in here?" she shouted. "Get out! This is my room! You can't be in here!"

Ashla cringed backwards. "I'm sorry! S17 said I should come and wake you up! I'm sorry!"

Serana slumped back onto her bed, feeling guilty. "It's alright," she said quietly. "I overreacted. I shouldn't have shouted at you. What does S17 want?"

"She wants to know where we're going next," Ashla said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Tell her to set course for Mandalore."

Ashla nodded and turned to leave, but paused as she saw a picture on Serana's table. "Who's this?" she asked. "Is this your family?"

There were five people in the picture. A tall, stern woman with no hair stood next to a towering Zabrak with red and black skin. He was smiling happily, holding a baby boy in his arms. Two girls stood in front of them, one taller than the other.

"That's me," Serana said, pointing to the smaller of the two girls. "My mum and dad, my big sister Ella, and my baby brother." She turned the picture so that it was flat against the table, hiding it from view. "Walk with me. We need to discuss what you did."

Ashla looked guilty as they walked up to the cockpit. "About the storm?"

"About the storm," Serana confirmed. "How did you do it?"

"I saw how you were doing it," she said quietly. "Then that man, he was going to kill you, and I couldn't do anything to him." The words came out in a rush. "And I just got so scared and angry and I – I couldn't stop it and... and..." She started crying. "I wanted them to die," she whispered. "I wanted them to die."

Serana hugged her as she broke down, sobbing.

"It's alright," she comforted her. "It's alright."

"He called me a Nightsister," she murmured. "Is that what I am now? A story that people tell to frighten children?"

"You're not a Nightsister," Serana assured her. "He saw you using one of my powers and made a faulty assumption." The ship shuddered slightly as they jumped into hyperspace.

"So…" Ashla wiped her eyes. "You… you're a Nightsister?"

"Former Nightsister," Serana corrected. "I haven't been a real Nightsister for years."

They were silent as they walked up to the cockpit. S17 beeped as she saw them.

Eventually, Ashla spoke.

"Can you teach me?"

Serana stared at her. "What?"

"Can you teach me?" Ashla repeated. "I've heard stories of what the Nightsisters could do. Sounds like that would be an advantage, right? I mean, we need every advantage we can get if the Jedi come after us again. Right?"

"You don't want those kinds of advantages." She saw the look on her face. "I'm serious, Ashla! Where do you think the stories come from? Nightsister magick is dangerous. It draws upon the Dark Side. You need to stay as far away from it as possible."

S17 glanced at them. "You know she's going to try and learn it herself as soon as we set foot on Mandalore, right?" she beeped. "Without you to help her, she's probably going to end up blowing something up. Herself, probably."

Ashla wouldn't meet her eyes as Serana glared at her. "Maybe a little," she muttered.

"I really need a freaking drink," Serana growled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, give me some time to think about this, OK? You have to promise not to do any experimenting with magick until then."

"I promise," Ashla said.

"I mean it, Ashla," Serana said sternly. "No experimenting. At all. Magick is extremely dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. You're likely to kill yourself and everybody around you."

"I promise!" she repeated.

"We're coming up on Mandalore," S17 interrupted. Hyperspace vanished as they dropped back into real-space. A planet loomed ahead, covered in dust and deserts. An armada of warships floated in orbit. Several of them began focusing on them as they approached.

"They're locking weapons," S17 beeped.

"State your purpose," a harsh voice crackled over the radio.

"This is Serana Kol," she replied. "I have an open invitation from Clan Ross to stay here."

There was a pause. "Proceed to docking site 4863," the radio said eventually. "Clan Ross has been notified and will meet you there."

"You heard them," Serana said. "Docking site 4863."

"What happened here?" Ashla murmured, as they flew over the barren landscape. There were no plants, no animals, no rivers or water, just plains of stone and dust.

"War," S17 responded, before Serana could. "Mandalorians like their fighting."

A city loomed on the horizon. An enormous dome of glass and steel arched over it, protecting it from the harsh environment. As they approached, a panel opened in the side of it, allowing them access. S17 manoeuvred them to the docking site and landed the ship. The ramp hissed open.

A group of warriors in Mandalorian armour were waiting for them. Most of them were just wearing bright silver armour painted with the sigil of Clan Ross, but their leaders' was more elaborate, each piece patterned and edged with green and blue. They stepped forwards as Serana left the ship.

"Mira," she said. "Good to see you again."

The leader bowed her head. "Likewise. You still hanging around with that droid?"

"S17? Yeah, she's up in the cockpit at the moment." Ashla stepped nervously off the ship. "Mira, this is Ashla. Ashla, this is Mira Ross, adopted daughter of Lord Terrel of Clan Ross."

Mira pulled her helmet off. She had bushy red hair and a spray of freckles across her nose. "Nice to meet you," she said, offering a hand. Ashla shook it. "So, Serana, how come you're back? Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"The Jedi sent a Temple Guardian after us," Serana grimaced. Mira whistled through her teeth. "Ashla's strong with the Force. They found us on New Alderaan. There was… an incident."

"What did you blow up this time?" she grinned. "No, no, don't answer. Come. Father will want to see you."

Ashla stared as they were led through the city. The buildings were like nothing she'd ever seen before – tall and angular, emphasising hexagonal patterns over square ones in their decoration. People stopped and stared at them as they passed. The sky was dominated by the dome. Beyond it, several large ships floated over the city.

"Here we are," Mira said, entering a tall skyscraper with the Clan Ross sigil emblazoned on the side. Large, plate-glass windows flooded the interior with sunlight. "Serana, you'll be staying in our old room, if that's alright?" Serana nodded.

One of the elevators dinged. A tall man stepped out. Unlike Mira, he wore no armour, and his hair was dark and short. He had a chiselled look to his features, as if they'd been hewn from a block of stone. It was immediately obvious who he was, the way he carried himself, the way he looked at everybody else.

"Serana," he said slowly. "What troubles have you brought to darken my doorstep now?"

"The usual," she replied, bowing slightly. "Running, explosions, Jedi assassins."

He snorted. "Here we go again." He turned towards Ashla. "My lady. I am Lord Terrel, of Clan Ross. I've ordered the penthouse suite prepared for you to stay in while you're here."

"Oh. Thank you," she said, taken aback.

The elevator was almost completely silent as it whisked them upwards. The ground fell away beneath them.

"So, you and Mira?" Ashla asked.

Serana nodded. "It's good seeing her again. It's been a while."

"You were together, right?"

Serana touched one of the necklaces that she wore beneath her dress. "Yep."

The door hissed open. "This is my stop," Serana said, stepping out of the elevator. The doors closed behind her and she wandered through the corridors towards her room. The place was just as she remembered it.

Her rooms were large and spacious. A large window took up much of one wall. Everything had an angular, utilitarian look to it. She rooted around in the wardrobe for a bit until she found what she was looking for. A small box, hidden behind an illusion. She pulled it out and opened it.

A small pyramid of what looked like yellow glass nestled inside. A framework of black metal defined the edges. Intricate patterns and runes decorated the faces, symbols that she could barely remember the meaning of. It lit up as she touched it, pulsing softly from within. As she focused on it, the holocron began floating in the air above her hand, rotating slowly. The corners of it detached and orbited the main body.

An image formed in the air above the holocron. Her and Mira, arms around one another, laughing at the camera.

"Now, that's something I haven't seen for a long time," came a voice from behind her.

The holocron snapped together and fell into her hand as she lost focus. It was Mira, of course. She looked much smaller without her armour on. She and Serana kissed and embraced as she walked into the room.

"It's been so long," Serana murmured.

"Too long," Mira agreed. "Far too long."

"Was it worth it?"

"What?"

"The things you did for love."

Mira sagged against her slightly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But –"

"I don't want to talk about it," she repeated, more forcefully. She pushed backwards, toppling them onto the bed. "I do want to talk about this, though."

Serana smiled, pulling off her dress. "I thought you might."