Vhetin woke to the sound of hushed, whispering voices. Then, an angry spike of pain raced through his forehead, making him groan and cover his face with his hands. His vision swam with stars, but it ever-so-slowly began to return.

A rough stone roof stretched over his head, dark and dank. He tried to crane his neck around to get a better look at his surroundings, but quickly decided moving was not a good idea. His neck was stiff and tense, and the slightest motion pulsed dangerously up and down his spine.

A hand fell on his shoulder. "Take it slow. That must have been a hell of a blow you took."

Vhetin blinked, his vision resolving and becoming even sharper. He looked up and saw familiar slate-gray armor in the shadowy cave where he was lying. The other man's armor was scuffed and his flight suit torn, but he was still unmistakable.

"Lee?"

Lee sighed wearily and sat back, shaking his head with a relieved chuckle. He had a dark black eye and a gash down the side of his face. "In the flesh. For the moment, at least."

Vhetin reached up and found a purchase on what felt like thick wooden bars. With difficulty he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the protest from his neck and back. Thankfully it seemed his captors had found little use for his armor. He was still wearing his full kit, helmet and all. His armor's self-diagnostic systems told him he had two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, and more bruises than he could count.

All in all, he thought, not as bad as I thought. I thought I was never going to wake up.

He put a hand to the helmet dome at his forehead. "Ugh. Where are we? What happened?"

"If you're as unlucky as I am, you got yanked off into the trees during the ambush." Lee gestured to his cut face and bruised eye. "And if you're as stupid as I am, you tried to fight back."

He leaned back against rough-hewn wooden bars keeping them penned in. A prison; they were in a prison. The walls were rough stone with the scraping and etchings of hundreds of prisoners, and Vhetin could hear coughing and moaning from somewhere behind him.

When his vision finally began to clear and adjust to the darkness, he saw there were other Mandalorians penned in with them, splayed about in various states of injury or unconsciousness. He recognized many from the expedition team, while others had haggard looks and scraggly bears that signified a much longer period of captivity.

His heart began to pound. He was locked up and isolated; a prisoner once again. Just like the Facility. Just like the sewers during the Caranthyr bombings. He couldn't be locked up again, couldn't stand to live the life of a prisoner again.

I won't, he thought, mind racing with thoughts like flies buzzing over carrion. I won't let this happen again. I'll die before being locked up in another cage. I'll go down fighting the guards, or rip down the doors, or…

He closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists and forcing himself to take deep breaths. Unlike the Facility, there was still hope he could make it out of this. He just needed to keep a calm, level head and things would be all right. The last thing this situation needed was him losing his mind.

Lee noticed his tension and said, "You look like shit."

"It's…" Vhetin grimaced. "Claustrophobia. It'll pass."

Lee narrowed his eyes, his gaze saying he didn't believe a word that came out of Vhetin's mouth. But he wisely stayed silent and just leaned back against the bars again, holding one arm against his side.

Vhetin turned his attention away from the slate-gray Mandalorian and began to take stock of their prison. It was a surprisingly wide cave, but not very deep; maybe only fifteen feet or so from the bars, the stone ceiling suddenly sloped down straight to the ground. It created a natural overhang that the Taung had wisely converted into a pen for their captives.

There were just over fifteen Mandalorians penned in, though none of them were overly familiar. Vhetin breathed a sigh of relief at that; both Tamai and Jay were missing, suggesting they had avoided capture. Unfortunately for him, it looked like Captain Tervho had also managed to escape. He cursed in his head and thought, things would be much simpler if we had a fighter like her on our side.

He didn't make it far in his survey before his eyes fell on the thick stone stalactite some distance away. It was as wide as a tree trunk, and stretched down from the ceiling all the way to the floor. And bound to the monolith by a length of thorny, twisted vines was a Heart Eater.

"What's he doing here?"

Lee glanced up and noticed Vhetin's gaze. "Ah, so you've recognized our guest."

The Heart Eater's thick dreadlocks were hanging over his angular face and his chest and shoulders were covered by an intricate series of ritualistic tattoos not dissimilar to Vhetin's own. He'd been stripped down to his undergarments and was bleeding from several deep lacerations along his chest and shoulders. He'd been whipped with a barbed lash. Hard.

Lee shrugged, then winced and held his ribs tighter. "Dunno. He got tossed in here with the haul from the ambush. Whoever he is, he's not popular with the locals."

Vhetin grimaced as he straightened against the bars, every muscle aching in protest of the action. "Any idea why?"

"Not a clue. No one's been able to get a word out of him. And trust me, we've been trying. He's awake, but he won't talk."

"I think I can get him to speak up," Vhetin said, rising to a crouch.

"You think so? The guy could be mute for all you know."

"No," Vhetin said. "You' just haven't been asking the right questions."

He knelt in front of the bound Heart Eater and cocked his head.

"Hey," he said, gesturing to the T-visor of his helmet. "Look at me. Ja'hailir ni. Jii, gedet'ye."

That got the creature's attention. Its head snapped up, regarding him with those fiery yellow eyes. Its nose scrunched as it huffed out a breath. Then its lips twitched and it looked at the ground once more.

Vhetin didn't back down. "Ke'ja'hailir ni!"

Those eyes returned. Its lips contracted into a thin line, then it spoke. Its voice was a grating rumble, like the snarl of a predatory kath hound. Every syllable seemed to radiate power and malevolence, and the creature's hands clenched into fists as it spoke.

"Ni ganar naasad mite. Nu draar."

Vhetin rested his arms on his thighs, cocking his head. "So you can speak. Even if you don't want to."

Lee rose to his feet and knelt at Vhetin's side. "I almost thought you didn't recognize him."

Vhetin held the Heart Eater's gaze, regarding the alien just as coldly as it was regarding him. "Hard to not recognize the ancestor race. Especially here on Mandalore."

"The Taung were supposed to have died out millennia ago," Lee hissed. "What the hell is going on here?"

Vhetin shook his head. "I don't know. When they caught me, were shouting to each other in Mando'a. There was one of them… it wore a cape. Shouted orders to them. I think it was their leader."

He looked back to the imprisoned creature. "Ke'gar. Tion gar gai?"

The response was predictable: a shaking head and a mutter of, "Nayc. Nu draar."

"Jorhaa'ir!"

The blazing golden eyes fixed on him again. Vhetin could see the debate warring there. It wanted to talk, no matter how much it was resisting. For some reason, it had fallen out of favor with its fellows. Vhetin could only hope that it could listen to reason.

Hopefully the Ranger-Commander was right and there are a few of the Kar'ta Epar'e who are interested in reaching out. Looks like they've gone through some severe brainwashing, though.

"Tion gar gai?" Vhetin said again. He tried to make his voice commanding, but not threatening. This Heart Eater knew it was vulnerable. Making it feel like it was not under threat was the only way it would open up. "What's your name? Tion gar gai?"

There was a long pause. Then:

"Werd'cetara."

Vhetin nodded. "All right. Shadow-Walker. Your name is Shadow-Walker."

The Heart-Eater grunted noncommittally. Vhetin forged ahead, determined not to lose the progress they had made. He placed his hand against his chest plates in a gesture of welcome. "Ni gai Cin Vhetin."

The creature looked him up and down, then spat, "Gar gai beskar'jag."

"Metal-man," Vhetin translated. "That's your word for us? We're metal-men to you?"

Werd'cetara nodded. "Aruetii beskar'jag."

Lee shook his head. "No, no. We're not foreigners. We're Mandalorians like you. Or… like you used to be. Do you understand? Ni Mando'ad."

The creature suddenly lunged at him, its restraints snapping tight. It strained against the bonds and snarled, "Nu'haat! Gar aruetiise. Ni, Mando'ad."

Lee recoiled, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. Werd slowly relaxed back against his restraints and Lee rubbed his forehead in confusion. "Now I'm more confused than ever. He's saying that he's Mandalorian, but we're not?"

"What can you expect?" Vhetin said. "They've been living in isolation for the past three centuries. Maybe even longer. It's possible they don't even know there are other Mandos planet wide."

Werd glanced between the two, his angular face pulled down in a furious scowl. Vhetin and Lee listened intently, translating in their heads when the Heart Eater spoke again.

"You are with the metal-men who seek to invade our lands?"

"Invade?" Vhetin replied, glancing at Lee. "No one said anything about invasion."

"You come into our jungles," Werd hissed, "armed with weapons of war. We hear you plotting and scheming from our trees. You seek to drive us from these lands."

"We didn't know you were on these lands," Lee replied. "We didn't know anyone was here but the local wildlife."

"Ignorance does not excuse you."

Werd let his head fall again and tapered off into silence. Vhetin glanced at Lee, then called to the Taung warrior once more. "Why are you tied up here with us?"

"Does it matter? I am prisoner, same as you."

"It matters to us."

Werd sniffed, his long brown dreadlocks shaking slightly. "I argued for peace between our clans. I thought we could learn from the metal-men instead of simply killing them. Maybe we could even resurrect the holy serpents. But my father disagreed. He wants a show of force. He wants you dead."

"Your father?" Vhetin echoed. "He's the one with the cape, isn't he?"

"He is our Mandalore," Werd rumbled. "He who protects us from the metal men and their weapons of burning light."

Lee let out a long breath, muttering in Basic. "They must have been in this jungle for longer than we thought if they're calling blasters weapons of burning light."

"When your clan came under attack," Werd continued. "I refused to slaughter your kind with my brethren. I tried to stop the attack and struck a fellow warrior. For that, I was lashed and imprisoned."

Vhetin narrowed his eyes. "But you truly wanted peace?"

Werd didn't look at him. "It would have been better to simply kill your kind and be done with it. Standing against my father brought me no fortune."

Vhetin glanced over at Lee, then turned back to Werd. "You mentioned holy serpents. What are they?"

"The great machines," the Taung replied. "They lie dormant in the jungle, waiting for those who are worthy to breathe life into their cold bones. Many have tried. None have succeeded."

"Kriff me," Lee muttered. "They're talking about the Basilisks, aren't they? If they manage to reactivate them…"

"They could wipe out all the Rangers in the jungle," Vhetin finished. "And not even break a sweat."

Werd nodded, obviously understanding even though they were not speaking in Mando'a. "My people do not see the wisdom of compromise. They are warriors to the very soul, and will not tolerate your people's intrusion into their lands."

Vhetin was about to say more when the thunder of drums drowned out his words. He and Lee both looked to the source of the beat just in time to see two Taung warriors drop from the trees outside and bark at their prisoners. Both were holding sharp spears with chipped beskar points. They ripped open the cage doors and grabbed the nearest prisoner under the arms, hauling him out of the cage. Several of the man's compatriots rushed to his aid, but were swiftly kicked back by the larger Heart Eaters. The smartest of the prisoners, who had been imprisoned for a longer period, shrank away to the back of the prison and covered their heads.

"Something tells me," Lee muttered as he and Vhetin both moved closer to the bars to watch the proceedings, "that he didn't just roll the lucky number on the early release program."

"Shut up," Vhetin said. The time for sitting idle was over. They needed to break out of here and help that man.

He grabbed the wooden bars that barricaded the mouth of the cave and began to pull with all his might. He heard the material begin to bend and splinter under his hands when Lee's hand grabbed his wrist.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Vhetin scowled behind his helmet faceplate. "What does it look like I'm doing? Breaking us out of here. That man needs our help."

"And then what? This place isn't exactly inconspicuous. Those Taung will see you and then we'll all die."

Vhetin stared down at the thick wooden poles that barred their escape. It would be so effortless to rip apart these cage bars. He'd been able to break out of far worse prisons than this. For kriff's sake, he still had his lightsaber.

But Lee squeezed his arm insistently, his voice low and harsh. "These guys are Mando-killers, vod. Until we get reinforcements, we can't win this."

"So what do you propose? Just sitting here and waiting to be picked off one-by-one? You're willing to let that man die?"

"If it means saving the rest of us," Lee said, "and potentially the entire border guard of the Werda Kurs, then yes. It's the right thing."

It didn't particularly fell like the right thing. But Vhetin could hear the wisdom in Lee's words. So he bit back a curse and released the bars. "Fine. Then what are we going to do? Sit here and watch these Taung take us one-by-one to Force-knows-where?"

Lee turned back to Werd's bound form and said, "Hey. Where are they taking him?"

The Taung warriors outside were dragging their struggling prisoner away into the darkness, toward the sound of the drumbeat. They stopped some distance away, and a wash of flame suddenly lit the night. Torches burst to life around a circular clearing in the middle of what looked like a primitive village, built into the shelter of a rocky mountain crevasse. Taung swarmed through the shadows; at least a hundred of them, all screeching and howling with fury and bloodlust.

And in the center of the clearing was a large pedestal, stained near-black with blood.

Lee spun back to Werd. "Answer! What are they doing?"

Werd didn't look up, but when he spoke, his voice was low and mournful. "They are preparing to feed."

Vhetin gripped the bars again, but this time didn't try to break them. Lee was right at his shoulder, as were the other prisoners. All were staring out at the clearing with identical expressions of horror and disbelief.

"Oh no," Lee muttered.

Outpost Aurek

Tamai staggered out of the jungle, clutching at the stitch in her side. Vhonte Tervho was right behind her, matching her step for shaky step. They hadn't stopped running since the ambush, sticking to the clearings and open areas of the jungle where the canopy could not betray them. It was a hectic, panicked retreat, but they had finally made it without further attack from the Kar'ta Epar'e.

Tamai fell to her hands and knees, all but sobbing in relief at the sight of Outpost Aurek just within reach. The telltale glow of rifle lights cut through the jungle, signifying nearby Rangers on patrol.

Tervho grabbed Tamai under the arms and hauled her back to her feet. The captain's helmet was clipped to her belt, her face covered in sweat. She managed to gasp, "Come on. We need to… get behind the walls. Get reinforcements."

Tamai summoned the last of her strength, raised her hands over her head, and shouted with all her might. "Over here! Over here, we need help!"

The rifle lights instantly snapped in their direction, and she heard the call of soldiers relaying orders back and forth. Seconds later, a rag-tag group of Rangers burst through the underbrush, sweeping their weapons over the area to ensure there were no surprises lying in wait for them.

"Ranger Vasser," one of the soldiers said. "It's damn good to see you again."

Tamai rested her hands on her knees, still struggling to catch her breath. When she could speak without wanting to throw up, she choked out, "Right back at you, Leus. Kriff am I glad to see you guys."

Five minutes later and they were back behind the walls of Outpost Aurek. Tamai was leading the way, a dangerous set to her jaw. Her gaze was fixed resolutely ahead, barely acknowledging the MandalMotors technician that was scurrying along at her shoulder.

"I can't do that!" the technician was proclaiming. "You don't have clearance! With Ranger-Commander Che'daje off the base, the command for the Lifespark Project transfers to her second in command!"

"We don't have time for the shabla bureaucracy," Tamai snapped. "I'm taking the Lifespark prototypes. You can't stop me. You don't want to stop me."

The technician bit his lip, then cursed and said, "Ah, shab… Follow me."

Tervho frowned at the Ranger as they briskly made their way through the nighttime compound. "What's this Lifespark Project? I've never heard of it. And it wasn't on the briefing from Shysa."

"That's because Shysa himself put the whole thing into order," Tamai said. "Classified to everyone but the Rangers. My uncle didn't want news of his pet project getting out. With all that's been going on in Keldabe lately, I can't blame him."

"Keeping secrets from the people doesn't sound like Shysa's usual MO."

"You'll understand soon why he needs the secrecy."

The technician led them into one of the large repair bays scattered about the base. He flashed his identification to the stormtroopers standing guard outside and the white-armored soldiers quickly stood aside and let them pass.

"This is such a bad idea," the technician was grumbling. "I'm going to lose my job over this."

"If you don't come through," Tamai said, "a lot of good men and women are going to lose their lives. By comparison, your job isn't that important."

"Point taken."

They went through two more checkpoints within the repair bay before they stood at the threshold to a large arena-like enclosure sealed off with solid beskar walls. Such an enclosure was neither cheap nor inconspicuous, but considering what was housed within, Tamai could see the wisdom of such defenses. She had never been allowed into this section of the outpost, but she knew what was housed within was the game changer to end all game changers.

Oh, if only Lee could see me now. He'd be so jealous his armor would turn green.

The technician allowed the security monitor to scan his ID, then tapped in a long string of commands into the terminal. The front doors hissed as they unsealed and began to sheathe open. Eyes fixed resolutely forward, Tamai immediately strode inside, all too eager to get what she needed and strike out into the jungle again.

Lee and Cin had been taken by the beasts; she'd seen Lee get dragged off into the trees and Cin disappear into the undergrowth pursued by no less than five of the Heart Eater ambushers. She would sooner die herself than leave them to whatever fate those monsters had planned.

Beyond the final checkpoint was a busy workshop floor crowded with red-suited MandalMotors engineers. Sparks danced across the floor and the workers shouted to each other over the din of buzzing machinery. There were no Imperials here, and that was just the way Shysa wanted it. Tamai couldn't even begin to guess the punishment he'd receive if his project was discovered. Execution sprang to mind.

"Welcome to Project Lifespark," she said. "Te Mand'alor's dirty little secret. You're walking where only Rangers have walked before, Captain. Count yourself lucky."

"I just might," Tervho said. "If I knew what was happening."

Tamai led them to the nearest workstation. She reached up and pulled back the heavy curtain blocking the station from view. As soon as she did, there was a shout of surprise from the technician within, quickly drowned out by a colossal synthesized roar that echoed through the entire building.

Tervho's eyes stretched wide at the sight before her, filled with a mix of shock and awe.

"I think you get the picture." Tamai jerked her head with a smile. "Captain, meet Lifespark One."

Vhetin paced back and forth in the communal cage, running through every code and program his helmet systems could throw at him. This deep in the jungle, he had no connection to the local HoloNet and therefore no link to the Rangers. He only had access to short-range systems, and they were no use at all. It was infuriating, having all his tech at his fingertips and having it count for nothing.

"It's no use," Lee snapped. He and the others were still at the bars, watching the ceremony outside. The Taung had stripped the armor from their prisoner and were painting his body with blood-red streaks of paint. "We've had beacons going from all our helmets for the past five hours. If the others get close enough, we're going to light up their sensors like a Life Day tree. All that's left to do is wait."

The roar of a hundred Taung voices drew Vhetin's attention. He returned to the bars, gripping them until his hands shook. Outside, the Heart Eaters were hoisting their prisoner onto the bloodstained stone slab in the middle of the clearing. The Taung gathered together were screaming and beating their chests, working themselves into a bloodthirsty fervor.

The Mandos gathered at the bars were shaking their heads and muttering in dismay. Vhetin slammed his fist against the cage bars and hissed, "Damn it. There has to be something we can do. I'm not going to just sit here and watch him—"

A hush suddenly fell over the crowd. All the imprisoned Mandalorians followed suit, their eyes fixed on the clearing outside. Vhetin's heart was thudding a drumbeat of its own against his chest, and he found himself unable to look away despite how much he wanted to.

The Heart Eaters parted to allow another of their kind to walk through their ranks. Unlike the others, a tattered red cape hung from this Taung's shoulders, and his thick black dreadlocks were tied back in a long braid. His ridged face was adorned with dark war paint and his eyes burned with a fiery hatred that child Vhetin's heart. He was carrying a heavy dagger in his hand.

"That's him," Werd intoned from behind them. "My father. Mandalore."

The caped Taung – Mandalore – strode up to the platform in the middle of the clearing, where his followers were busy binding their prisoner to the bloody stone slab. The man was screaming and struggling and fighting with all the spirit of any Mandalorian, but his captors were far stronger and his struggling accomplished nothing.

Mandalore raised his arms and turned to face his followers. Like Werd, his voice was low and warbling, but speaking the unmistakable harsh tones of fluent Mando'a.

"My sons and daughters!" he roared. "For too long, the metal men have encroached upon our sacred lands! Burning our trees! Slaughtering our prey! They have yet to learn that these forests are ours and ours alone!"

"Come on," Vhetin muttered. "We can't just sit here…"

"We are the Sons of Mandalore!" the Taung continued. "The greatest warriors of the jungle! For two thousand years we have lived among the trees and conquered all that lies before us! We will conquer more before our time is through!"

His words were met with a deafening, thunderous roar of approval. Mandalore nodded, a sharp-toothed grin gracing his gaunt, grey-skinned face. He raised his hands again, calling for silence. As soon as they had quieted down, he continued. "Our loyal bretheren will soon learn the secrets of the holy serpents, restoring them to life once more. And when they do, we will lay siege to the metal men and reclaim all they have taken from us!"

He thrust his dagger into the air, the flickering torchlight reflecting off the rough-hewn beskar blade. "We are their hunters! And they shall all fall before us!"

He looked down at the Mandalorian bound before him, eyes all but spitting fire.

"Starting with you."

The blade flashed and before Vhetin could so much as move, it was buried hilt-deep in the captive man's chest. The man arched his back against his restraints and screamed as Mandalore dragged the blade in a rough circle, then thrust his hand into the dying man's chest.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Lee said. But he didn't look away. None of them could.

Mandalore hacked away with the dagger, then ripped a fist-sized hunk of flesh free, hoisting it up into the air. Clutched in his palm was the man's heart, blood pouring in rivulets from the organ. Mandalore showed the heart to all his followers, then raised it to his lips and sank his teeth deep.

As soon as he did, another triumphant bellow thundered up from the throats of his followers. Mandalore ripped away a chunk of the heart, then threw it to the nearest of his followers. They pounced on it, punching and flailing at each other in their haste to get a piece.

"They are taking his power," Werd sighed from behind them.

Vhetin spun to the Taung. "What?"

"The heart is the source of a being's power. His strength and courage and intelligence. By consuming the heart, a warrior consumes his enemy's power."

Lee's face drained of color. "That's what they've been doing all these months. All this time our warriors have been disappearing, these bastards have been… they've been eating them."

Vhetin returned to the bars, gripping them tight in shaking hands. "They're preparing for war."

Mandalore turned away and spread his arms. "Now we feast! Gorge yourselves until the blood of the metal men runs in rivers!"

The Taung roared in return and swarmed forward to the stone monolith. They fell on the dead man, tearing into him with teeth and claws. Lee looked away, his face an unappealing shade of green. Vhetin didn't look away; he couldn't. He kept his gaze fixed on the bloodbath in front of him, committing every sight, every sound, every minute sensation to memory.

It was happening all over again, just like during the Caranthyr bombings. People were dying around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. If he wanted any chance of stopping the body count sooner, he would need this sight. He would need to use it as fuel, keeping him focused on just what he was fighting for.

Mandalore pointed a finger at their cage and thundered, "Bring the others! Tonight we feast on the flesh of the metal men!"

Vhetin narrowed his eyes as he watched Mandalore throw his bloodied hands up in the air once more. He shook his head and thought, I hope Lee's right. The Rangers need to find us soon. We won't last in here much longer.

The Dark Forest (unknown location)

Jay knew with every step they took that they were growing more and more lost. An uneasy, uncomfortable silence had fallen over the expedition group since deciding to make their way back to Outpost Aurek. No one said a word, all senses tuned outwards to the jungle.

There had been no sign of any Heart Eaters since the ambush. Night had fallen and the jungle had come alive with the hoots and howls of all the local wildlife. Jay was beginning to wonder whether they would ever find Aurek again. Hish'ka Che'daje was an expert tracker, but the dark and the stress of being hunted was clearly eating away at her abilities. She led the group past the same rocky outcropping three times before she finally found her way again.

After almost two hours of nonstop hiking, they stopped by a sluggish creek. The remaining Mandalorians didn't wander far, nor did they let their guard down. They arranged themselves in a rough semi-circle, weapons pointed out while they waited to catch their breath.

Hish'ka was the only one who strayed from the group, kneeling at the edge of the creek and pressing her mechanical hand into the mud. The Ranger Commander glanced at her over one shoulder. "What is it?"

"Tracks," the turbaned woman said. "Big. Clawed."

"Kar'ta Epar'e?"

Che'daje shook her head. "Uh-uh. They're tree-dwellers. Don't leave tracks unless they have to. This is different."

She stood, shaking mud off her razor-tipped fingers. "Kalo wolves. A boatload of them."

The Ranger-Commander sighed. "Osik. The Kalo Wolves only hunt to the south of Aurek. We're off course."

"Lost, you mean," Norac Benz hissed.

"No, I mean—"

"Admit it," the clanmaster said, taking a step toward her. "You don't have the faintest idea where we are or where we're going. Puts quite a few holes in your go back for reinforcements plan."

Jay held out a hand. "Norac, this isn't the time to—"

Benz rounded on her. "I'm done being a tagalong to this mission, outsider. Our men are dying in this jungle, and this furface is the only one standing between us and retribution."

Hish'ka stood and clenched her hands into fists. "Don't call my sister that."

"I'll call her what I please," Benz snarled. "Incompetent leader. Mindless drone. Coward."

The Ranger-Commander lashed out before Jay could stop her, planting her fist squarely in the Berserker's face. He staggered back with a curse and covered his face. She pulled back for another punch when one of the Berserkers stepped forward and snatched her hand from the air, holding it in a tight grip and immobilizing her.

Benz regained his balance and wiped blood from his nose. The look in his cold eyes was unreadable; something Jay found far more terrifying than his usual fiery rage.

"That's the second time an aruetii has lifted a hand against me," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I'm getting tired of being nothing but a punching back for foreigners."

He glanced over his shoulder, looking at the Berserkers that were now gathered around him. A smile quirked his lips upward. "Berserkers! Who's ready for a little jungle warfare?"

His followers collectively raised their weapons and let out a shout of approval. Jay looked between them with wide eyes, trying her best to defuse the situation. "Norac, we discussed this. We're going back for reinforcements to—"

"I heard the first time. Didn't agree then and I don't agree now."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said," Benz said. "You need to learn there's a world of difference between what someone says and what they plan to do. Your plan for reinforcements had merit, it's true. But we men of the mountains have never been ones for idleness."

Akh'shi reached for her sword, but Benz's own blade was out of its sheath and in his hands before she could draw it. The sword tapped against the woman's chest plate ominously.

Benz stared at her with a smug smirk. "That would be most unwise. Drop it."

Akh'shi glanced at her sister, then reluctantly dropped her sword to the dirt. One of the Berserkers snatched it away, sheathing it over his own back. Benz shook his head at the woman, then gestured with his other hand. "Tie them up. Leave them for the Kar'ta Epar'e. If they're lucky, the wolves will get them first."

Jay stepped closer to the man, a hand reaching for his shoulder. "Norac, you don't want to—"

The hard weight of a sword hilt hit the back of her head and she staggered forward into the dirt. Her head spun, body coursing with a sudden burst of adrenaline. The Berserker who hit her put his boot in her ribs and shoved her to the ground. Before she could rise to her feet again, she felt the cold blade of Benz's sword press under her chin.

"You know, I'm doing you all a favor, really," he said. "I know my seven boys can't kill all the Heart Eaters. But we can keep them distracted long enough to get our captives free. If you had any sense, you'd want to come along with us."

He stepped away from her. "I'll give your black-armored friend your regards when I see him."

Jay held a hand to the back of her head, wincing at the sudden wash of pain it sent through her skull. She knew not to struggle when the two nearest Berserkers pulled her to her feet and shoved her off to stand with the Che'daje sisters. Once they were close enough, one of Norac's men aimed his wrist-mounted gauntlet at them and fired a guided whipcord dart that circled around them and bound them tight against the thick trunk of a tree.

"How do you even know where to find their camp?"

Benz chuckled, gesturing to the air around them. "You don't smell it? There's smoke on the air, aruetii. From campfires. We're still miles from Aurek, so the only local civilization is our elusive Heart Eaters."

He pointed an accusatory finger at Hish'ka Che'daje. "If our furfaced tracker here had any real interest in saving her vode, she would have been following that scent. Instead, she chose to wander in circles while our men died in enemy hands.

"Think on that while you're enjoying your sit-down." He circled two fingers in the air, signaling for his men to follow close behind him. "Everyone move out! We'll have to move like Jai'galaar'e to get to the camp before those tree-huggers kill all their captives."

He glanced back at Jay as his men took off into the jungle. He reached over his shoulder and strapped his shield over his arm, a cold look of contempt in his eyes.

"It may not seem like it," he said, "but I'm doing what's right. Hopefully you'll realize that before this is through."

"Benz! You're a dead man!" Hish'ka Che'daje shouted. "When I get out of these kriffing ties, I'll—"

But the clanmaster and his men had already disappeared into the jungle.

Author's note: It's a little late, but I managed to write this chapter in record time.

I originally wanted to have Werd and his people speak in nothing but Mando'a, but I ultimately decided it would be too confusing and too time-consuming to have readers (and myself) have to go through and translate everything they were saying. So I hope you enjoy my cop-out translated dialogue. :)