Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. After 9 months of procrastinating, postponing and ignoring this story, I finally worked up enough inspiration to update. I'd like to apologize for the long wait; I hit some big roadblocks concerning the plot and the new canon material with Rebels finishing out their final season. ((By the way, so sad and beautiful, many tears were shed :") But it's all good))

Um, anyway... gosh, how do you bounce back from such a late update? Welp, I'd encourage some of my old followers to go back and reread the past chapter for a little refresher before unwrapping this one. Sorry for the long A/N by the way.

May the manda be with you.

The New Mand'alor: Chapter 12: Old Memories

"There was one of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other."

-Harriet Tubman

Ezra was staring at nothing in particular, lost in thought, whenever Luc threw a wad of clothes at his face.

Ezra started and yanked the shirt off of his head. "What's this?"

"Disguises," Luc answered. "Kor's orders."

Ezra knit his brows. "It's just a plain blue shirt. Why—"

Luc cut him off by tossing an oversized brown jacket at his face. "The New Mandalorian presence is still heavy in Sundari," he said. "They're all pacifists—so if we came in wearing armor, then we'd draw attention."

Ezra, Luc, and Sabine were grounded on the Mesh'la A'den, parked in one of Sundari's giant landing pads as they had been waiting for Kor to get back with their new clothes. Kor had mentioned needing to blend in with the "New Mandalorian" crowds, but Ezra thought it would have been a little more… fashionable.

Ezra scanned the oversized jacket Luc had tossed him. It looked like it had seen a lot of firefights—judging by the blaster burns. Nice enough, Ezra thought grudgingly.

Luc caught him eyeing the jacket. "That was an aviator's jacket. You can tell by the paneling on the sleeves."

Ezra grunted noncommittally, not wanting Luc to know that he secretly liked it. The leather was soft and worn and there were several hidden pockets on the inside. "Where's Sabine?" he said instead.

"Changing in the refresher," Luc replied, beginning to slip off his Mandalorian body stocking and tug on his "disguise," which was really just a faded blue top with big black Mando'a lettering across the chest.

After Ezra was done changing, he looked in the long mirror hanging up on the wall of the Mesh'la A'den's guest room. Brown boots a size to big, belt and Mandalorian jacket of the same color, and then navy pants and shirt—if either of the latter were any tighter, they would be cutting off his blood circulation.

Ezra tugged at the V-neck that arched below his collar bone. "Y'know, this really isn't my style. Are all Mandalorian clothes this tight?"

"Pretty much," Luc said, strapping a leather pack to his belt. He was wearing a navy compression shirt too.

Ezra was still fiddling with it whenever Luc went to leave. "Ugh," Ezra choked, "how do you people breathe?"

Luc grabbed him by the jacket's high collar. "C'mon."

Sabine and Kor were waiting for them in the commons room. Obviously, Sabine had gotten the better hand concerning the clothes. For one, she wasn't dressed in all navy like Ezra and Luc were. Sabine had changed out of her armor and into a baggy charcoal-colored shirt that was tucked into dark blue pants. Her black boots came almost up to her knees, and her arms were bare, exposing her olive skin and harsh tan line.

"…Hey," Ezra stuttered. He silently kicked himself. Seriously? Still, it was the first time in a long time since he had seen Sabine out of her armor. In regular clothes and with her hair almost its natural color, Sabine seemed… different. More familiar. More approachable. Less I'm-gonna-kill-you-'cause-I'm-a-Mando.

"Real smooth," Luc whispered to him.

Ezra shot him a glare but Kor spoke up before he could hit him. "If we're done here, we should get going. I have a few safe houses that we can check for my aunt."

Instead of wearing casual Mandalorian clothes like the rest of them, Kor was fitted in a slimming Imperial officer's uniform with that classic low bill hiding his baby blue eyes.

"Nice disguise," Ezra said dryly. "Very… Mandalorian."

Kor ignored him and pinned the multicolored badge to his lapel. "Imperials have checkpoints all throughout Sundari. If an officer is escorting citizens, they don't have to get their I.D.s checked."

"Which is good for us," Luc said, "because we don't have any."

"Right."

Ezra smirked. There was one tiny detail that Kor had overlooked. "Right," he drawled as he exited the ship. "But, ah, doesn't your aunt hunt Imperials?"

Kor paused.

"I mean," Ezra continued, "that would be bad luck if we happened to run into her or something. Which… consequently, is what we're trying to do. We'll just have to hope that she doesn't shoot on sight. Tell me, Kor: is your aunt levelheaded?"

Luc snickered as he walked down the ramp and Sabine patted Kor's shoulder. "Don't worry," Sabine said, a smile in her voice. "I'm sure Bo-Katan will be able to recognize you in that uniform. Never mind that she hasn't seen you in years, or that that hat covers up half of your face, or that she's famed for having a livid hate against Imperials—"

"Alright," Kor interrupted, stomping out of the ship. "I get it."

Ezra discreetly high-fived Sabine behind the grumpy old man's back. We are the paragon of teamwork, Ezra thought cheekily. Nothing like roasting your chaperone.

Ezra had been too busy thinking about teasing Kor that he hadn't noticed they walked out of the hangar. When he did, his mouth dropped.

Skyscrapers like mountains rose all around him. Hoards of people milled along the streets and steady streams of speeders zoomed overhead. Everything was so crowded that it was making Ezra claustrophobic just looking it. The buildings were literally on top of one another—branching out into more buildings like… like trees or something. Horizontal buildings branching off of vertical ones and vertical ones branching off of those!

"You know what," Ezra said in a small voice, "I think I'll just wait in the ship…"

Sabine slapped a hand on his back before he could turn around. "Nope."

He swallowed. Bo-Katan could be anywhere, Ezra thought despairingly.

How in the name of the Force were they going to find one person among so many others?

Sabine's hands were balled into fists as she walked along Sundari's streets. Every few feet, a billboard was posted on a pole, and flickering on its screen was the Empire's logo. Propaganda flimsi was plastered on the buildings' walls, urging the Mandalorians to "Join the Empire's finest! Become an Imperial Supercommando!"

Sabine was disgusted. She had once walked along these streets, saw those flyers and felt pride swell in her heart. Now, there was only hate. Bitter, cold, repulsing hate. The Emperor was a liar. He had enslaved her people, when he had sworn to save them. The Empire occupied her homeworld and the squads of stormtroopers proved it.

Sabine ducked her head as several of the bucketheads walked by, feeling her fingers twitch in the instinct to toss a few paint bombs their way.

"It's gotten worse," Sabine muttered as she looked at the thousands of Mandalorians in her sight.

Before, when she'd been a cadet at the Imperial Academy, Sundari had been loosely controlled. The Empire had pretty much kept their distance, letting the Mandalorians rule themselves. There had been a few propaganda billboards here, a squad of stormtroopers there, but now…

The Imperial flag hung in every intersection, every pole, every major facility. Imperial Supercommandos flew across the sky, wearing that blank white color proudly.

Those Mandalorians were traitors. They had willingly joined the Empire and defiled the Mandalorian code. They were as good as dar'manda-soulless.

Sabine glared at one of the Mandos as he flew over her head. "Aruetii," she spat to him. She was almost disappointed the Imperial Supercommando didn't hear her.

Sabine suddenly stopped.

In front of her was what looked like the remains of a barrack. The roof was caved in and the walls bore carbon scoring. Grimy ash was streaked on the walls, and the barrack looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Sabine narrowed her eyes. The ash.

Sabine knew this place.

Her weapon was the thing that had destroyed it.

...

...

...

"It's too late!"

"No…"

"Sabine, we have to go!"

"No… I… I did this."

"We can't change anything now! Come on, little sister!"

Sabine slowly turned to Ketsu, feeling completely empty. "I did this," she repeated. The words sunk in and Sabine looked at the fires raging across Sundari, her heart racing.

At fourteen years old, she had developed a weapon on a dare that had cracked a two-thousand year old mystery. Sabine had discovered that although beskar was impossible to destroy, it happened to conduct a high amount of electricity, meaning that it could be superheated to an insane degree.

Sabine was cursing herself over and over again for her brilliance and her stupidity. Arrogance had blinded her to the Empire's true purpose for developing the weapon and now, Sabine's people were paying for it.

The Duchess was just a prototype, but in a matter of days, it had been replicated and distributed throughout Sundari. Every walker, every gun tower, every barrack, had her weapon mounted on it. Sabine had been horrified.

She had warned her family; warned them they planned to use it. And what did they do? They had turned her into the Empire as a deserter. Sabine had been sitting helplessly in a jail cell for the past day, watching the fires rage and smelling the sharp scent of smoke and burning flesh. Ketsu had just busted her out moments ago and shot the guards.

They were on the run now, racing along the streets of Sundari and dodging stormtroopers. The Academy was overrun with armored Mandalorians, trying to fight back against the Imperials. But it was hopeless and Sabine knew it.

Ketsu suddenly tackled her. "Get down!"

A stray rocket zoomed overhead and exploded into an Imperial barrack full of stormtroopers, sending billows of black smoke into the air. The Duchess was mounted atop the barrack and its lights began to dim and the motor died down.

Sabine shielded her face from the raging fire that was beginning to consume the barrack. But on the side of it, she could just barely make out the blocky white numbers.

006

Sabine narrowed her eyes. Wasn't that Daalor's… The thought was left unfinished in her head, because she immediately surged forward, tears already pricking her eyes.

"Sabine!" Ketsu barked after her. "What are you—"

"It's Daalor!" Sabine called over her shoulder, her voice breaking. "This was Daalor's division!"

Please don't be dead, Sabine thought to herself, her heart pounding in her chest. You can't be dead.

The smoke was thick and it curled around Sabine's body, enveloping her in the blanket of black. Sabine coughed violently and tried not to breathe in the acrid scent of it. She ran to the barrack's blast-proof windows and pounded on them.

"Daalor!" Sabine yelled, her voice hoarse. "Daalor—" Sabine's cry ended with a bout of hacking.

An icy cold hand latched on to Sabine's and Ketsu began to drag her away. "Come on—"

BAM! Hands pounded against the blast-proof glass on the other side.

Sabine's heart gave a leap of joy. It was Daalor!

The gangly boy tore off his cadet helmet and his long, dark hair tumbled free. The braid the instructors had forced him to keep it in had come undone, and his blue eyes weren't twinkling with laughter like usual; they were wide with panic. "Sabine!" Daalor exclaimed, his voice muffled. "Ketsu!"

Sabine could have cried right there on the spot.

Ketsu's grip on her wrist slackened. "Daalor!"

Sabine rushed to the window and felt around it, groping wildly in the thick smoke. "There has to be an opening," she said, her throat beginning to close. "Or a—a door. Something!"

Ketsu helped her look for a way to get Daalor out. But blocks of duracrete had fallen and now encased the barrack like a grave. And the fire getting even hotter now.

"Sabine," Ketsu whispered. Her voice had an edge to it that Sabine didn't like.

"No," Sabine hissed. "We have to find a way in! W-We…"

Suddenly, a high-pitched whine like frequency feedback began to grow louder. Sabine winced. What was that sound—

Oh kriff.

Sabine knew that sound.

She was the one who had designed it.

Sabine's head snapped upwards to the Duchess. The machine was whirring and the engine was growing white-hot.

Sabine scrambled to her feet. "It's gonna blow!"

Daalor hammered against the glass, stricken with panic. "Sabine!" He yelled, his voice muffled. "Sabine this barrack was designed by Mandalorians before the Imperials took it over!"

"…What?"

Daalor pounded the glass with a fist. "This structure is made of beskar!"

Sabine reeled when the realization caught up to her. She had know the Empire could be stupid, but to purposefully put a weapon that superheated beskar on top of a beskar barrack was a whole new level of idiocy.

Sabine looked at the Duchess, which was only seconds away before misfiring, then back to Daalor. The frantic look in his eyes was being replaced with one of disbelief, and then betrayal. He knew why she was hesitating.

Daalor began to back away from the glass and Sabine felt a stab of guilt before running back to it anyway. "Daalor!" She called, coughing from the smoke. "Daalor, get out of there!"

Ketsu grabbed her under the arms and began to yank her away. "C'mon little sister, we have to go!"

Sabine struggled in her grasp. "We can't leave him!"

"We don't have a choice!"

All at once, the Duchess' whining jumped an octave and bolts of electricity shot from the motor, latching onto the beskar barrack. The structure hummed with energy and Sabine couldn't un-hear the dying screams of the stormtroopers forever locked inside.

And Sabine knew, Sabine knew, that Daalor was one of them.

Daalor was part of the small family she had had at the Academy. Her "big brother," just like Ketsu was her "big sister." And she had left him to die.

And even better, it was her weapon that had killed him. That was killing him right this second! Slow agony as his skin began to superheat and then in a snap of the fingers—boom. A pile of ashes.

Sabine curled up in a ball on the ground, tucking her trembling hands close to her heart. Her body was racked with sobs and the will to push on—to even live—was gone in that moment; stolen from her in one foul swoop.

Ketsu grabbed her wrist. "Wipe your tears, little one," Ketsu hissed under her breath. "There is a time and place for sentimentality—and that place is not on the battlefield."

Sabine let Ketsu drag her up and shove her onto her feet. Sabine's legs moved but each step was dull and distant. No, the Sabine Wren she knew had died that day; died right beside Daalor Ordo. The thing that had gotten up in her place was not Sabine.

No, that thing was not much of anything, anymore...

...

...

...

Sabine blinked hard and her vision focused to the charred structure in front of her. She walked to the half-destroyed barrack in dream-like slowness and slid her hand along the faded white numbers: 006. Her fingers came back stained black with ash.

"Sabine."

In the back of her head, she knew Ezra was calling her. But she couldn't even focus on his voice. I did this, Sabine thought despairingly. I did this.

Her creation had destroyed countless lives. Had killed Daalor, among other friends. Neighbors. Family members. All of them, gone.

Sabine had enslaved her people.

She could feel Ezra sliding his hand into hers, working her fingers from the tight fist she had them in. Sabine grabbed her best friend's hand, trying frantically to anchor herself. It was a long time ago, Sabine reasoned with herself. Things have changed.

And as Sabine opened her eyes again, she watched helplessly as the Imperial flag hung next to the barrack, waving in the wind.

Yeah, Sabine agreed with herself sadly. Yeah, they sure as kriff have.

Sabine's feet dragged as she walked along Sundari's streets. It had been… six hours? Seven, maybe? However long it had been since they started this half-baked search, it felt like more than seven hours. Sabine's feet ached from walking along the duracrete roads and her head was pounding.

Sabine had continued to have endless memories from the past plague her mind. The screams of the dead echoed in her ears, even now. How had one girl managed to enslave a warrior culture with over a thousand planets and moons under Mandalorian control?

If someone had asked her that question, Sabine would have laughed. Then, she would remember… Wait, I did that.

Yeah… Sabine tended to make the impossible possible often.

Yet now, Sabine was exhausted. Flashbacks and memories continued to flood her, nearly bringing tears to her eyes or a smile to her lips. She had walked these roads nearly five years ago, and they still held memories. Sometimes good… but mostly bad.

And it didn't help that they had been looking for Bo-Katan for hours upon end, with no food or breaks. Kor had checked out all the places he said he knew, yet they still didn't have even an inkling of a thought as to where the elusive lady was.

"Kor," Sabine heard Luc whine, "we gotta stop. I'm exhausted."

Sabine waited for Ezra to snap at Luc, to tell him to man up, but nothing came. Sabine glanced over to see a hunched over Ezra, yawning.

Kor saw the three exhausted young adults, and he seemed surprised. "Right," he said, shaking his head. "Yes, of course. I, uh, I know somewhere we can eat."

Thirty minutes later, Sabine was seated in a booth next to Ezra and the rest as a waiter brought them their food. She closed her eyes, breathing in the heavy steam that rose off of the hot meal and the musty scents of the pitstop they were in.

The pitstop had a cozy, comfortable feel to it but Sabine wasn't fooled. The person behind the counter was nervous and continually checked to make sure the Imperial holonet was playing. Sabine also didn't miss the angry glares people gave Kor as the man strut in wearing his Imperial officer uniform.

Mandalore is broken, she thought hollowly. The heart of my culture is… enslaved.

Sabine looked down at her food, suddenly nauseous. How could she eat leisurely while Mandalorians worked hard without pay in the Imperial factories? While Mandalore's children were forced to go to the Empire's academies? While Sabine's people were dead? While their blood cried out for vengeance?

They need me, Sabine realized. I left them to deal with my mistake… I left them when they needed me most.

Sabine let her food grow cold as her stomach turned uncomfortably.

"Hey," Ezra said softly, "you're not hungry?"

Sabine swallowed. "Not anymore."

Ezra seemed to hesitate, before pushing her plate closer to her. "You have to eat, Sabine. I know you're hungry."

Sabine bit her lip. She knew she would feel guilty if she even touched her food. "Ezra," she whispered. "How can I eat knowing my people can't? My people are slaves to the Empire… I can't just sit here and ignore what's happening…" Sabine shook her head, unable to continue.

Ezra paused briefly. "We're not ignoring it," he said finally. "We're liberating them, remember? But they need a strong Mand'alor, Sabine. You have to keep your strength up."

Sabine hesitated, before grudgingly consenting. "I guess so."

The pitstop bustled with activity as Sabine ate, yet the food seemed tasteless in her mouth. All she could think about were the memories in Sundari. All she could think about were the screams… the smell of burning glass, duracrete, metal, human flesh…

Sabine forcibly swallowed. Once her stomach had been filled up with just enough food to make it through the rest of the day, Sabine turned her attention to the holodeck in the center of the pitstop as a familiar voice emitted from the speaker.

"…mines are progressing well," Gar Saxon said from the holodeck. His rough and stubble-abundant face was contorted in his version of a smile. "More and more beskar is being uncovered everyday. However, remember, citizens, if someone you know is working in the Imperial mines, it was because they forced my hand into action. Rebellion will not be tolerated in Mandalore. We follow our Emperor whole-heartedly and serve him with our strength and independent spirit.

"Par kote bal ijaat be te emperor, " Saxon cried in Mando'a.

"Par kote bal ijaat be te emperor," the people in the pitstop echoed hollowly.

Sabine clenched her jaw, turning away from the holodeck, and tuned out the rest of Saxon's dull words. FOR GLORY AND HONOR OF THE EMPEROR. That was what Gar Saxon had shouted in Mando'a. That chant was reserved strictly for the Mand'alor only—for the sole ruler only. Saxon was proclaiming the emperor as Mandalore's sole ruler. It was downright disgraceful.

Sabine was sick to her stomach. What had Saxon done to Mandalore? To her Mandalore?

Fierce anger swelled up in her against Saxon. He had done this to her people. He had forced them to work in the mines, he had wiped out the blossoming flower of rebellion, of hope. Saxon had outlawed artistic expression and the privilege to think for one's self.

If Mandalore was a tree, Saxon was a vine. He curled around the tree, constricting it, minimizing growth… He sucked all the life out of it until the tree was nothing but a husk of its former self.

That was exactly the way Mandalore was now.

Sabine stood up suddenly, smacking her hands on the table. "That's it," she hissed to no one in particular. Sabine ignored her companions' stares as she stormed out of the pitstop angrily, shoving people aside.

I hate Gar Saxon, she thought viciously as she walked into Sundari's "fresh" air. He did this to my people. He enslaved them! My people!

"Sabine?" a voice asked hesitantly.

Sabine bristled and turned away from the voice. "Not now, Ezra," she growled. Sabine crossed her arms and began to walk away. Kriffing Saxon, she fumed. I'm gonna kill him. I'll give his kriffing unhygienic face a shave with the Darksaber.

Starting just below the chin.

"You can't run off like that and think no one's going to come after you," he protested.

Sabine aggravatedly glanced at Ezra over her shoulder. He was still following her? "I need to be alone," she said shortly.

Sabine watched Ezra sigh, then stop. "Okay," he relented. "Just tell me what's going on. You've been acting weird since we landed."

Sabine turned from the boy and looked out at Sundari's busy streets and glowing lampposts. It was beautiful, in a way. In all the busyness of Sundari it still felt like home. Like the old days when she was innocent and naïve.

She swallowed. "Today's… brought back some memories," Sabine said slowly. "I don't want to talk about it."

She expected the onslaught of questions and badgering from Ezra, but nothing of the sort came. "I understand," Ezra said simply. "Empire Day brings back stuff like that for me. But just know, Sabine, that I'm here for you."

Sabine sighed heavily, feeling just an ounce of the weight that was on her shoulders lift. Her constricted chest eased ever so slightly at the thought of her best friend, supporting her all the way.

Sabine turned back to Sundari's busy streets, closing her eyes as the wind from the speeders whipped pass her. "I know," she said quietly.

And they simply left it at that.

Ezra sat against the wall, unable to fall asleep. It was dark in the small room and he could just barely see Sabine's silhouette in the far corner, curled up in a ball on the bed.

Kor had suggested stopping for the night several hours ago and they had settled down in a hotel room. Apparently, Kor had spent too many credits on clothes for them and they hadn't had enough currency to get more than one room. So, as a result, Sabine got the only bed—per Kor's orders. And, of course, the great and mighty Kor got the extra covers to make a satisfactory pallet in the darkest corner of the room, while Luc and Ezra had to sleep on the itchy carpet with a few complimentary towels as pillows.

Ezra had slept with worse (he had been a lowly Loth-rat for over seven years living on the streets), but for some reason, he couldn't sleep now. Well, not for some reason; he knew why.

Sabine.

Ezra always called on the Force to soothe him when he couldn't get to bed or nightmares plagued his mind. But this time it wasn't working, because Sabine, with her cloudy, chaotic brew of stormy emotions, was blocking him from fully opening up himself to the Force. Her bright, warm presence was almost always a distraction to Ezra's Jedi training. But this time? It was downright impossible to focus on the Force when he could sense such a gut-wrenching turmoil inside Sabine.

Would you just sleep? Ezra thought grumpily to Sabine, even though the troubled girl couldn't hear him. Ezra could sense that her conflicted emotions were causing her to teeter on the thin line between sleep and consciousness.

Ezra sighed. Knowing the girl wouldn't get her beauty sleep in if he didn't intervene, Ezra crawled over to the edge of Sabine's bed. He grabbed her tightly closed fist and stilled her twitching arm.

Working her fingers out of the ball Sabine had clenched them in, Ezra held her hand, sending the Force into her.

The calming presence had the intended purpose. Ezra could feel her relax under his hold and her body finally stop jerking with nightmares. He pushed the light side of the Force harder, sending an overflow of peace into her weary, sleep-deprived body.

The Force washed over Ezra as well and he sat on the floor, his back to the bed, holding Sabine's hand loosely as he used the Force to calm them both and welcome them into the sweet, blissfulness of sleep.

That's all for now, folks! I *should* have the next chapter updated in less than two weeks. Thanks to everyone for being patient and sticking this story out with me! I always read all my reviews and appreciate every one of them ^^

As always, give me a little fav/follow if you like the story and tell me what you thought about this chapter (or predictions for future chapters) in the comments section below!

Thanks again; Specter7 out.