Hi, Specter7 here. I know what you're thinking. "Wow, Specter you actually updated ON TIME?" Yeah, I know. I'm a miracle worker. Anyway, the OC Torian Ordo in this chapter belongs to my fanfic friend, Mandalore the Freedom. Also... Happy 2018 everyone! Here's to a brilliant new year and the very last season of Rebels.

May the manda be with you.

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 10: Clan Ordo

"The only advice I'll give you: when you're in the jungle, shoot anything that moves. Then shoot the things that don't move, just to be sure."

-Kex (about Dxun)

Sabine had been to a lot of places. She'd seen a lot of planets. But whenever the Mesh'la A'den exited hyperspace and the forest moon Dxun loomed in front of her… it was astounding.

It had been a surprisingly eventful two days since they set out to Torian Ordo's homeworld. Sabine had been able to teach Ezra some key phrases of Mando'a, Kor had shined his armor to perfection, Luc had continued to bother and bully Ezra, and Fenn Rau had had some interesting arguments with Arc. The two had been at each other's throats the whole ride, arguing their points on whose ancestors were right and whose were wrong. With Rau being the leader of an esteemed group of True Mandalorians, and Arc being the leader of an originally hated and vicious group of Mandos… the two had very different opinions on how to truly lead.

And although the Arc versus Rau dynamic had supplied Sabine with sufficient entertainment for all of two days, she was relieved they had finally reached their destination: Dxun.

The artist in Sabine admired the gorgeousness of the moon, with its lush, vibrantly green continents that parted in a place or two to reveal pockets of deep, royal blue water. Dxun was beautiful, as if it had jumped right out of a painting or an image that might've been on the holonet to advertise ideal places to vacation to.

"First time?" someone asked.

Sabine glanced over her shoulder to see Fenn Rau, standing besides the pilot's seat.

"Yeah," she answered, turning back to the viewport.

Rau sighed, as if remembering better times. "Once, long ago, I reacted just like that. It's beautiful to see a Mandalorian world not ravaged by war."

Sabine was about to agree when Arc interrupted them as she slid on her helmet. "Ha," Arc said dryly, her voice emitting from a mic in her helmet, "you think that up here. Just wait till we get to the ground."

Sabine clenched her jaw as she forcibly sighed. Of course. She'd heard about Dxun and how many wars were fought in its tree-abundant grounds. The moon's appearance was a façade. Millions of lives had been lost on its surface. It simply didn't show the effects of battles like Mandalore or Concord Dawn—or countless other worlds and moons wasted by war.

Why can't our people just stop fighting each other? Sabine asked herself despairingly.

And all the way down to Dxun's surface, that question was in her mind.

And it never left.

Darkness… That was all there was… That was all he could see…

Ezra felt his breaths grow labored as he looked out the viewport at the moon Sabine called "Dxun." He could barely hear Sabine and Rau talking about how beautiful the moon was over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest.

The fear.

The anger.

The hate.

It surrounded Ezra. It pulled at him in different directions, pounding into his skin and creeping into his heart. What is wrong with me? Ezra asked himself desperately. I feel so…

"…Cold," he breathed.

"We can turn the ship's internal heaters on," Sabine said, interrupting his thoughts. She was in the pilot's seat, commandeering the Mesh'la A'den and bringing it into Dxun's atmosphere.

"It's not that," Ezra whispered and hugged himself tight. The closer they got to the moon, the worse he felt.

Sabine seemed to notice this and moved to him, setting the ship on autopilot. "Ezra? You don't look too good. What's wrong—?"

"—Sabine," he interrupted, lashing out his hand to grab hers. Usually, Ezra would simply brush her mind and send a feeling across. But at their physical contact, Ezra channeled out the darkness he was sensing into Sabine. Immediately, Ezra felt better and he looked over to see his best friend sit straight up, as if chills suddenly went down her spine.

The Mando abruptly jerked her hand away, her fingers visibly shaking. "What was that?" Sabine asked, her voice trembling.

Ezra swallowed, a sense of foreboding overcoming him. "The dark side," he answered in a grave whisper, remembering to keep his voice down. "I don't know why, but this moon… it's—it's as if it's infused with it."

He watched, as Sabine seemed to hesitate. "There are rumors," she began eventually, "mostly legends, that over a thousand years ago… Dxun was the burial spot of a Sith."

Ezra nodded slowly. That would explain it. But he paused. "Why would they bury a Sith here?" Ezra asked. With a place as beautiful as Dxun, he would have figured darksiders would bury their fellow practitioner… somewhere more Sith-like.

"The Jedi were said to have put the Sith on Dxun," Sabine continued, "in order to keep interested parties of its scent. This moon is home to thousands of deadly predators, Ezra. No one even wants to come here, much less live here."

"Except Mandalorians," Ezra added.

"Except Mandalorians," Sabine confirmed.

He gave a little smirk. Of course. Why wasn't he surprised the Mandos were the exception?

"I'd watch my step if I were you, kid," Arc added, breaking into their conversation. "Dxun's a dangerous place with dangerous creatures that'd kill you in a heartbeat. One of our Mand'alors died here, in fact. Eaten alive by a few of the beasts."

Ezra swallowed as he looked out the viewport at the moon's dense foliage. They had landed on the surface, in a rare clearing.

"How long until we get to Clan Ordo's outpost?" Ezra asked to anyone who would answer.

"Not far," Sabine answered, keying something into her vambrace. "An hour tops. I couldn't find a suitable clearing close enough, so… I landed the ship here. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot."

Ezra sighed, his heart dropping. With the dark side pushing on him, pulling at his mind, tickling the back of his neck… a long walk in the creepy woods was exactly what he didn't need.

"Wonderful," Ezra moaned.

Two hours later, a tired, weary, on-edge, easily annoyed Sabine trudged through the dense forest, her eyes on her Mandalorian vambrace.

"How much longer?" she could hear Ezra complain from behind her.

"We're almost there!" Sabine snapped, her patience thin.

"You said that an hour ago," Luc muttered to her left. The blonde-haired Mando appeared pretty miserable, looking even worse than Ezra. And in that moment, Sabine was glad she didn't have as much armor on as Luc, Kor, Arc, and Rau did to weigh her down. But Sabine's crimson colored cloak did get in the way often. It snagged on leaves and branches repeatedly, earning Sabine even more aggravation. And now, two hours into their hike, the hem of her cloak was soiled with mud and heavy and wet everywhere else.

"You know, Bean," Arc said slowly, "I'm beginning to have the slightest, faintest, inkling of a thought that we might be… I dunno, lost?"

Sabine ignored her cousin and looked down at her vambrace, frowning. According to the blinking light, Torian Ordo's outpost should be right here.

Sabine wiped her gloved palm against her forehead, pushing her damp hair out of her eyes. She was exhausted. Hiking in this manda-forsaken jungle was too much.

Sabine looked down at her helmet, the T-shaped visor staring back. She had it under her arm and had taken it off an hour ago, the helmet being even hotter than the temperature outside.

"Mand'alor?" Kor asked suddenly.

Sabine glanced over and realized she had stopped walking. She hesitated briefly. I know it's right here, Sabine said to herself. The coordinates Jaxon supplied had to be correct.

"Spread out," Sabine ordered quickly. "Stay within com-radius and call if you see anything. Torian Ordo's base is close… I can feel it."

Luc snorted but began to walk away. "You're starting to sound like a Jedi, Mand'alor."

Sabine stiffened at the sound of the word, which was heavy with importance. She glanced over at Ezra and the two met eyes. Her eyes continued further and rested on Arc, who seemed to swell with anger. Her cousin stormed over to Luc, jamming a finger on the man's chest plate.

"Careful, Luc," Arc snarled. "My little cousin is nothing like a Jedi. The cursed religion was killed off for a reason, y'know."

Sabine watched Luc give his leader a look of incredulity that morphed into fiery anger. But as he started to move to Arc, who had begun to walk off, Kor placed a hand on Luc's shoulder. The older man shook his head briefly, silently telling the younger man to not let fury get the best of him.

Sabine turned away from the scene, shaken, and searched around for any sign of civilization. She heard a few muffled steps from behind her and sighed. "You know," Sabine began, "Arc's not gonna be happy when she finds out your little secret."

Ezra trudged up besides her, swatting away the excess foliage. "I know," he said. "But her stereotype of Jedi is all wrong. She thinks we're bullies and murderers. How crazy is that?"

Sabine bit her lip as she continued to wander into the forest. "We were kind of raised to think like that, Ezra. It wasn't until I met Kanan that I actually thought anything different."

Ezra seemed to be conflicted and he ducked to avoid a low-hanging tree branch. "Are all Mandalorians like her?" he asked eventually.

Sabine was surprised. "No!" she exclaimed. "Of course not. Most of us have a… sort of hesitant respect for Jedi. We admire your strength and skill in battle, yet most of us still hold a grudge against your people."

Ezra frowned. "Is it because of the whole bombing Mandalore thing?"

Sabine gave an emotionless chuckle. Mando history in a nutshell, she reflected. "Yes, for the most part."

"And the other?"

Sabine hesitated. "Our people have a rivalry, Ezra. Didn't Kanan tell you this?"

Ezra shrugged. "I think he said something about the Mandalorians searching for people to fight and they decided to wage war against the Jedi."

Sabine stopped and put her hands on her hips. "That's a narrow way to look at it," she commented.

Ezra stopped as well. "How would you put it, then?"

Sabine sighed and continued to walk forward. "A long time ago, my people searched for worthy opponents. Strength in battle was everything back then, so finding an adversary that rivaled the might of a Mandalorian was hard to find."

"Until they found out about the Jedi," Ezra guessed.

"Yes," Sabine answered. "So, my people and your people fought, starting a grudge match between the two cultures that still exists today." She paused and looked at Ezra, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Or, is supposed to, anyway."

He smiled back, and then continued to trek through the leaf-covered forest, absently kicking a twig. "That still doesn't explain why Arc seems to hate Jedi even more than the usual Mando."

Sabine shrugged, realizing that she didn't have an answer. "I don't know. But I'm sure it has to do with that blonde Padawan braid in her hair."

Before the two could continue their talk about Sabine's cousin, she suddenly stumbled into a clearing, Ezra nearly falling over himself as well.

"Halt!" someone yelled. "What are you doing here?"

Sabine slowly looked up, gripping her helmet tight under her arm.

"Hey, Sabine," she heard Ezra whisper, "…I think I just found your friend's outpost."

"Mmm," Sabine hummed swiftly, "the angry looking Mando with a blaster didn't clue you in on that?"

"Enough!" the same Mandalorian barked. He stepped closer, his blue and gray armor glinting in the blinding sunlight. "Why are you here, outsiders?"

Sabine glanced at Ezra, deftly stilling his arm that was moving to his DL-44. "My presence was requested by Torian Ordo," Sabine announced, straightening to her full height.

The Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "Sabine Wren?" he asked gravely.

She smirked slightly, flipping her helmet in her hands. "The one and only."

The man holstered his blaster and keyed something into his gauntlet. "My master has been expecting you… Are there any others besides the two of you?"

"Four more," Ezra answered, apparently refusing to be intimidated by the Mando. "I can signal them."

The man tilted his helmet to look at Ezra, his T-shaped visor hiding his expression. "And who might you be, boy? Not a Mandalorian, I'm assuming."

Sabine glanced at the teen as he shrugged. "I'm a friend," he answered honestly.

Sabine watched the Mandalorian stare at Ezra a moment longer, then turn without another word. As the man led the two rebels into Torian Ordo's camp, Sabine couldn't help smiling at the irony of all of this. Here was Ezra, a skilled Force-user and Jedi, walking into the heart of Clan Ordo, a famed Mandalorian faction.

It was paradoxical how Torian had unknowingly invited a long-hated enemy of his culture… into his very home.

The Mandalorian led the two rebels into the Ordo outpost, gaining them stares from the other members. Sabine noticed not only humans in armor, but aliens as well. She spotted a few Twi'leks, several Rodians, the occasional Devaronian, and even a Trandoshan, all in Mandalorian armor.

"You've adopted the species-tolerant policy, huh?" Sabine asked the man that led them.

He simply nodded once, not stopping to talk. Ezra bent his head next to her, whispering, "I thought only humans could be Mandalorian."

Sabine smiled as her best friend's cluelessness of her culture. "Ezra, Mandalorians aren't just a race. We're an idea. If anyone wants to be a Mandalorian, they can be a Mandalorian. They just have to have the right heart and enough courage."

Ezra nodded slowly and Sabine turned at the sound of rapid footsteps. Arc, Rau, Kor, and Luc jogged up behind the two.

"What'd we miss?" Luc asked breathlessly, falling in line with Sabine.

"Nothing important," Ezra answered stiffly and Sabine could feel his muscles tense against her own as their arms brushed.

Sabine hid a smile. I guess Ezra still hasn't gotten over Luc bullying him awhile back. That, and, Ezra just generally dislikes the guy.

"Wait here," the Mandalorian that was leading them ordered. He had brought them to the middle of the base, leaving Sabine and the others to admire what Torian and his clan had built. The base was full of towering buildings, some in ruins, others repaired. Gun towers loomed in various places above the outpost, glaring down ominously on all the little mortals like Sabine.

"I like what he's done to the place," Arc mused, her hands on her hips. The Death Watch leader had put her helmet back over her head, and Sabine opted to do the same.

She could see Luc and Rau choose to follow her lead, pulling their helmets over their faces, hiding their true identities. Sabine had to admit, with the Mandos clad in their full amour they all looked pretty professional. Arc, Kor, and Luc each had the twin black stripes painted across some part of their armor. Luc's was on his shoulder, Kor's was on his chest plate, and Arc's was all the way across the right side of her body. Rau wasn't too shabby either. With his dark blue and gray armor, the weathered pieces were a callback to an ancient design of Duchess Satine's personal guards.

Sabine pulled her damp cloak close to her body, making her shiver. Its crimson color had darkened from the evaporation in the air, turning it a deep, rusty, almost-brown shade.

"Well," a deep voice said suddenly. "I see you answered my call, Sabine Wren."

Sabine refused to let her surprise show in her body language and she slowly straightened, turning to face the voice. But the person in front of her made her freeze. Instead of a big, buff, young Mandalorian leader… there was an old man with a white-as-snow beard. His face was lined with wrinkles and he was hunched over a long pole that served as a walking stick. A nasty, faded scar stretched across the old man's right eye, shattering the pale blue iris. He was suited in all-black clothing and armor, which was accented with brilliant gold and weathered badly, the paint scratched off in many parts.

As the old man hobbled closer, Sabine breathed, "Torian Ordo?"

The ancient Mandalorian nodded once. "Aye, adiik," he said, his voice warbling with age.

Sabine sucked in a breath and bowed low to the old man, Arc and the others doing likewise. She could just see Ezra in her peripheral vision, standing around and looking confused.

By the manda, she wanted to smack the boy. Doesn't he get that he has to show respect for someone who has survived this long as a warrior? Torian Ordo must be… eighty? Maybe even older than that?

"Why have you summoned me, ruug'la solus?" Sabine asked respectively, calling him 'old one'.

"To clarify a rumor," Torian Ordo answered gravely, straightening to his full height. "Is it true that you, Sabine Wren, have proclaimed yourself Mand'alor?"

Sabine swallowed and stared defiantly from underneath her helmet. "It is."

She watched as Torian Ordo set his jaw before asking, "And who has aligned themselves to your cause?"

Sabine exhaled heavily. This is going to be the hard part, she told herself. "All of House Caladon," Sabine answered, "along with what is left of the Protectors of Concord Dawn."

Torian remained impassive. "And what is left of the Protectors?"

Sabine gritted her teeth, remembering the atrocities Gar Saxon had committed. "Only their leader," Sabine answered humbly, motioning behind her. "Fenn Rau."

Torian seemed to jump out of his skin as he hobbled forward, passing Sabine. "By the manda!" he exclaimed. "Is that really you, Fenn?"

Rau took off his helmet, revealing piercing blue eyes, an unshaven face, and just a hint of red hair from underneath his head covering. "Yes, old friend," he answered, the faintest of smiles on his lips. "It's wonderful to see you again… still living."

Instead of being insulted, Torian threw back his head and laughed. "Haven't lost your touch, have you? You're still that young upstart I trained with all those years ago."

Torian looked from Rau and back to Sabine, his face growing somber again. "And you said House Caladon joined also… Hmm?"

"Yes, ruug'la solus," Sabine said with a nod. "Their leader is here." She turned to her cousin. "This is—"

"—Oh, I know Arc Wren all too well," Torian interrupted, turning to the lanky young woman. Arc simply tilted her helmet slightly, her visor pointed to Torian.

Sabine was mentally sending a prayer up to the manda.

Please don't let Arc say anything stupid, she pleaded to their ancestors. Please, please don't let Arc say anything stupid!

"I see even in your old age," Arc quipped carefully to Torian, "that your memory has not deteriorated… although your mobility certainly has."

Sabine winced under her helmet. Too late. She waiting for Torian Ordo to lash back out at Arc. But he didn't. He just stared hard at the lanky leader for a long moment, his wrinkly knuckles tightening on his staff.

"I did end up remembering you after all," he said flatly.

Sabine could practically feel the waves of anger coming off of Arc. Her cousin's blank visor was facing Torian, concealing a face Sabine knew was red.

"Did I leave a good enough legacy with you?" Arc spat quietly.

Sabine was a bit confused at what Arc was hinting at—some past offense, maybe. What exactly had Torian done to upset Arc this much?

Torian hobbled past Arc with a nonchalant wave of his hands. "Hardly," he deadpanned. "You weren't too famous with the Ordo's even before you resurrected the blasted Death Watch." Torian paused. "We did replace the gun towers you destroyed, though."

Arc nodded approvingly, casting a pointed look around. "I saw that. How long did it take? You know, to rebuild your defenses from scratch?"

Sabine shook her head at her cousin's withering tone. She was pushing it. "Ruug'la solus," Sabine interrupted. "You summoned me here. What for? To exchange insults with my cousin?"

Torian Ordo observed her with a curious gaze. "…So the rumors are true?" he asked again. "You are the Mand'alor?"

"I will be," Sabine answered. She took the Darksaber off the back of her belt, her fingers curling on the hilt's smooth, cold hilt. She ignited the blade and felt it pulse and vibrate in her hand. A collective gasp fell on Clan Ordo as Sabine raised the Darksaber, it's black beam shining.

"The Darksaber has united our people once," Sabine said, her amber eyes steely. "It will do so again."

Torian's one good eye narrowed, his gaze fixed on the sword. "Where did you get that?" he whispered.

"I won it," Sabine answered curtly. "It belongs to me. Now are you ready to negotiate our terms of alliance?"

The Ordo leader seemed to snap out of his trance and he straitened. "Come, young one," he ushered suddenly, tapping his walking stick on Sabine's shin armor. "We have much to discuss." Torian gestured to Rau as well, and the blue-armored Mando fell in pace with the old man.

Sabine retracted the Darksaber and followed the Ordo, passing Arc on the way. Her cousin lashed out an arm and squeezed Sabine's hand tight.

Sabine could just barely make out Arc's eyes behind the leader's tinted visor and her own helmet, but she didn't need to see them to know they were wide with worry. Sabine squeezed Arc's hand back assuredly. "It'll be okay," she promised.

Arc's heavy breathing was clearly audible, even with her helmet on. Sabine didn't know what had happened to Arc the last time she was on Dxun… but it was clearly making her anxious.

Arc would never say it, but she was scared. Sabine knew it. And now, Arc was scared for her.

Sabine gave Arc's hand another reassuring squeeze before letting go and catching up with Rau and Torian Ordo.

"Will my friends be okay?" she asked the old man, her guard up.

The Ordo leader didn't look over. "It wasn't wise bringing the Death Watch into my home-much less their blasted leader."

Sabine's hands began to move to her blasters on their own. "Will. My friends. Be okay." Sabine repeated slowly, dread building at the pit of her stomach.

"So long as Arc Wren doesn't attempt to blow up our stronghold again, then yes," Torian growled. "But the Death Watch will complicate our supposed alignment."

Rau put a gloved hand on the old man's shoulder. "Please, Torian," Rau rumbled. "Whomever has pledged their loyalty to Sabine Wren doesn't make her leadership abilities anything less. It… in fact, highlights them. You have to give her a chance; regardless of her cousin's involvement."

Torian seemed to hesitate, his pace faltering. "Maybe you're not such a young upstart anymore," he replied finally. Torian glanced at Sabine with his one good eye. "Alright then. My allies and I will grant you a fair hearing, young one. Nothing more, nothing less."

As they entered the main building, Sabine couldn't help but admire the inside, which seemed even bigger than the outside. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched up and up, flooding the main building with sunlight. In that moment, Sabine realized she was standing in Torian's throne room.

Rau stopped next to Sabine and she glanced over. He gave her a firm glance and a confident nod, the closest the Mando would ever get to reassuring her. Torian Ordo limped up a few steps and sat in his huge throne, seeming unfit to sit in the ample space.

On both sides of the throne, stood two Mandalorians, a woman in silver armor, and a man in white and gray.

Sabine recognized them before Torian even introduced the two.

"Sabine Wren" he began gruffly, "These are my clan's allies, the leaders of Clan Cadera,"

The woman to his left nodded in greeting.

"And Clan Kelborn."

The man to his right bobbed his head as well.

"If they are convinced you are a suitable Mand'alor, then we will join you. If not, we will try our hardest to make sure your title never becomes known."

Sabine didn't move, not acknowledging his veiled threat. She hesitated on what to say, knowing her next words could end her life. Strategy, she told herself. Everything is still all about tact and strategy. I have to convince Torian to rally to my cause. If I'm really going to be the new Mand'alor, Clan Ordo joining is simply a necessity.

"I am Mand'alor the Free," Sabine said finally, choosing her words carefully. "And I come with an opportunity for our homeworld to be free from the grip of Gar Saxon. From the grip of the Emperor himself."

"Easier said than done," the man to Torian's left scoffed. "How do you, a mere child, plan to liberate us?

"My age has nothing to do with this," Sabine shot back. "I've seen more than most adults would ever have nightmares about."

"We know of your treachery," the woman to Torian's right said briskly. "And you are right; I don't know many adults who would ever even dare dream about the nightmares you committed in real life. Helping the Empire enslave our homeworld? Building weapons of mass destruction? And even after that, killing off the legendary Clan Kryze. What excuse have you for that, child?"

Sabine stared hard at the woman from underneath her helmet, trying not to show her bewilderment. They know about what I did with the weapon? she thought, stricken. They know that I made it?

Sabine clenched her teeth. Why did everywhere she go, she was still being called a traitor? Wasn't a person allowed to change?

The young Mand'alor finally took off her magenta colored helmet, shaking out her dyed white and purple hair. "Do you know of Jaxon Ordo?" she asked finally, her question aimed at Torian.

The old man seemed surprised. "Yes..." he said slowly. "Jaxon is an honorable young man. A bit headstrong, maybe, but his heart is always in the right place."

Sabine held back a smile. Hooked. "And are you aware that Jaxon is now a committed member of the Death Watch?"

The other two clan leaders seemed shocked and they turned to Torian, muttering under their breath. Torian simply held out a hand to silence them, and he leaned forward, stroking his beard. "Well aware, Sabine Wren. What, I pray, is your point?"

Sabine straitened. "I firmly believe Jaxon is still everything you think he is. He's honorable, loyal and just, yet he aligned with a group you consider to be murderous traitors."

Torian looked like he was concentrating intensely. "True," he admitted finally. "There were many objections of him leaving us to join Arc Wren and her band."

Sabine inhaled heavily, knowing she was about to make her final point. "If such a good man like Jaxon did what was unpopular, allying with traitors, and still have his honor... then maybe they weren't all traitors in the end. Maybe the Death Watch wasn't what you thought it was."

Torian leaned back in his massive throne, his frail arms crossed in concentration. By now, Sabine knew they could all see her point. They all knew what she was doing: paralleling Jaxon's situation with her own.

"The two cases are not the same," the leader of Clan Kelborn objected.

"But similar enough?" Torian countered.

The two leaders by the old man's side stared at him and Sabine knew they were shocked.

"Torian," the leader of Clan Cadera hissed. "This sniveling snake is a traitor! She is nothing like your Jaxon."

Sabine scowled at the insult, wanting to snap something sarcastic back, but she stayed silent. She watched as Torian Ordo met Sabine's eyes evenly. "Sabine Wren," he said slowly. "You have committed a great grievance against your people. How will you redeem yourself?"

Sabine lifted her chin. "I'm not a traitor. Yes, I was an Imperial Cadet... but only because it was all I knew. My clan thought it would be an honorable thing to serve my planet's savior." Sabine shook her head bitterly, remember old times. "But it was a nightmare. I followed orders blindly like any good soldier. Didn't ask questions. But when I did, I got turned down. No one could give me any straight answers, so I found them out for myself."

Sabine exhaled shakily and she closed her eyes. The explosions flitted crossed her closed eyelids. She could see the carnage so clearly..."But it was too late," Sabine whispered. "The Empire used my creation on Mandalore. People that I knew. Everyone I loved."

Sabine looked boldly up at the three Mandalorians, her lip curling in a furious snarl. "You cannot call me a traitor," she said dangerously, her voice low, "until you have stood in the ashes of your biggest mistake... and realized that you'd been played all along."

The Mandalorians in front of her were stunned into silence and Sabine tried unsuccessfully to swallow the emotion that was bubbling up inside her. They don't understand, Sabine realized. They don't know what I've had to go through to get here. She might not be the most qualified person to lead the Mandalorians, not by far... but she always cleaned up after her mistakes.

Sabine had unknowingly enslaved her world.

And now it was time to free it.

Sabine whipped out the Darksaber, and showed it's brilliant black blade to the Mandalorians. "I haven't been perfect," Sabine continued. "And I won't be perfect. But Mandalore needs someone to unite them-now more than ever. The Darksaber was used to bring our people together before I was born, and it will do it again." Sabine paused, swallowing hard. "I enslaved Mandalore. But now I have to liberate it… Will you help me?"

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. The tension was tangible in the throne room, and Sabine's hand only tightened on the hilt.

But then, Torian stood from his throne, his head raised high. "I hate the Death Watch," he said, his voice edged with finality. "But I hate the Empire more."

The old man hobbled down the steps. She couldn't believe her eyes when he tossed aside his walking stick and lowered himself to the ground. Torian set his weathered black helmet in front of him as he kneeled and spread his hands apart, palms up.

"I swear," Torian began solemnly, "my life, my clan, and my house, to Sabine Wren of Clan Wren, House Vizsla. May the manda look upon my oath and approve, as I, Torian Ordo of Clan and House Ordo, pledge my allegiance to the new Mand'alor."

Sabine's stared at him, shocked, and only looked up when she heard footsteps in front of her. It was the Clan Kelborn leader.

The man got on his knees next Torian and took his helmet off, revealing a face that was shockingly familiar to Rex. No, identical.

He's a clone, Sabine realized.

The Mandalorian set his helmet in front of him, splayed his hands before him, and began with the sacred words as well. "I swear," the clone began seriously, his head bent, "my life, my clan, and my house, to Sabine Wren..."

As soon as the leader of Clan Kelborn finished, the other one, the woman, came and kneeled as well. Once all three of had pledged allegiance to Sabine, they each looked up at her.

"Par kote bal ijaat be Mand'alor!" the leaders shouted in unison.

For glory and honor of sole ruler.

Sabine could feel herself smiling uncontrollably as all three stood up. One thumped her on the back, congratulating her in Mando'a. The other said a quick word of encouragement, before bowing slightly and going out to tell the good news to the rest. When the leaders of Clans Kelborn and Cadera left, Sabine was left alone with Torian.

The old man smiled at her. "Well done, adiik."

Sabine bowed slightly. "Thank you, ruug'la solus."

Torian flashed her a smile and ushered her forward, leaning heavily on his walking stick as they shuffled on. "Tell me," Torian began, "What do you plan on doing now, Mand'alor?"

Sabine felt her chest puff out in pride at her official title. "I'm going to keep traveling from clan to clan until we've gained enough allies to topple Gar Saxon off of the throne he doesn't deserve."

Torian chuckled and the two walked out the entrance into blinding sunlight. "And when the time for that comes," he said," you can count on Clan Ordo to back you."

Sabine looked out among the sea of differently colored helmets, the light beams bouncing off the T-shaped visors. She was in awe of that many Mandalorians. And all were of Clan Ordo or their close allies; the Kelborns and Caderas.

"These are your people," Torian said wistfully. "These are your soldiers to command, Mand'alor. They will fight for you. Die for you...

"All hail the new Mand'alor," Torian whispered

That's all for now :) The title of the next chapter is: A Contact in Sundari. I will be handing out virtual space waffles to anyone that can correctly guess the contact, payment through Private Messaging only :P

Specter7 out.