"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc. Ni partayli, gar darasuum, Lady Bo-Katan Kryze." Dark brown dirt, soft and fragrant, trickled from between gloved fingers, landing on the lid of the simply-carved cedar box. So much less than a dutchess- a queen- deserved. Koska Reeves pushed to her feet and drew in a deep breath, the air tinged with the perfume of freshly turned earth and a hint of impending rain, and returned to the cluster of blue-clad warriors standing at attention two meters away. Helmet under her arm she planted her feet and threw her shoulders back, forcing her gaze on the headstone bearing their leader's name and inlaid with beskar signets of the Nite Owls and the mythosaur planted in the grass and refusing to look at anything else- not the clouded sky overhead, not her comrades, not the Armorer who performed the final rites as the closest thing they had to a religious leader. And certainly not the man dressed from head to toe in unpainted silver beskar standing at the top of the rise in front of them- out of earshot but close enough to claim his presence at the ceremony.
The rest of the woman's words fell on deaf ears, and Koska swallowed unseemly tears as Axe Woves and another man stepped forward and began shoveling the loose dirt over the casket. She supposed they should be grateful they had any remains of Lady Kryze at all; Axe's crash of their light cruiser into Gideon's base had ignited a firestorm that consumed the demagolka and his military might and would have rendered her body irretrievable had it not been for the quick thinking and mystic powers of Din Djarin's little green child. The man sought no praise for the foundling's actions when he finally reunited with the rest of the group on the surface, cradling Bo-Katan's broken frame against his chest. She had fought valiantly to rescue them, he explained plainly, taking on Gideon while he rushed the guards pursuing his child. He had returned to the flight deck just in time to see the Imp, a fresh cut across his cheek angry and bleeding, bring his fist down on the hand wielding the Darksaber and send the weapon skidding across the floor- coming to rest just feet in front of Djarin. He took his chance and seized the saber, but before he could charge the man, Gideon produced a blade seemingly from nowhere and thrust it under Bo-Katan's armor and between her ribs- straight into her heart.
"Ke'sush!" The call for attention broke through Koska's muddled thoughts. Instinct drew her feet together and her left fist to her heart in two sharp movements perfectly in sync with the rest of the platoon. As one they slammed their fists to their chestplates, and a cry of "Oya, alor'ad!" burst from their lips, echoing as one voice across the gently rolling hills of Kalevala. Koska's eyes finally trailed to the man standing on the top of the hill, and no small amount of shock swept over her at the sight of his fist pressed against his heart as well, his visor tipped down toward the earth.
She had no time to consider the gesture, for a moment later the group pivoted and began marching single file toward the ship waiting to take them back to Mandalore. An official funeral service had been held that morning with all the various Tribes in attendance, but through some sort of secret agreement the rest had hung back and allowed the Nite Owls to accompany Bo-Katan's body to her home planet of Kalevala, where she was laid to rest in her full beskar'gam and later a memorial to her fallen family would be erected.
As she stepped onto the loading ramp a flash of silver caught her eye, and she looked up just in time to see the unmistakable shape of the Naboo N-1 starfighter take to the sky, bearing the silver-clad warrior away from the planet.
Their Mand'alor.
Sleep eluded Koska that night, and she arose with the dawn the next morning, slipping out of her tent as quietly as possible so as not to disturb her tentmate. The clouds were surprisingly absent that morning, and the sun bathed the sky in streaks of pink, purple and gold. A good morning for a walk. She spied a rocky outcropping not far from the camp and struck out for it, nodding polite greetings to the handful of individuals already awake and tending fires around the camp. It would be a long time before they made the planet livable again and would be able to establish permanent settlements, but one or two of the other planets in the system had been relatively untouched by the Purge and would be acceptable for temporary dwelling.
She reached the edge of the camp but pressed on past the last tent toward the outcropping. A few seconds later she was able to pick out the unmistakable scuffle of gravel under boots, failing in an attempt at stealth, over the sound of her own steps, and she couldn't help the sardonic grin that came to her lips. "I can hear you." She turned and planted her hands on her hips, waiting for her shadow to appear. "Come on out." A moment lapsed before it finally did in the form of a tall, willowy woman with light brown hair and eyes so blue they appeared violet in most light. It was Sarad, the young woman with whom she shared a tent. She grinned sheepishly and blushed as she stepped out from the pile of rocks, closing the space between them with long strides. "You need work on your shadowing technique."
Sarad's smile faded and she nodded. "Yes, ver'alor."
"At ease, Sarad. You may call me Koska when we are alone like this." Another sharp nod and the younger woman's shoulders relaxed.
She turned thoughtful eyes on Koska as they continued their walk toward the outcropping. "Couldn't sleep?"
"No." She swallowed back another press of tears. To her credit, Sarad didn't press her to expound or share, only walked silently beside until Koska found enough composure to do so. "After all this time, working together, seeing each other every day, it doesn't seem right that she's gone."
"I know." They stopped short of the path that led to the top of the bluff, and Sarad lowered herself onto a boulder. Koska followed in short order. "Even for as little as I knew her outside of training and missions, she still felt like a sister of sorts." Though she would have never admitted as much to the woman's face, Koska had come to think of Bo-Katan as a kind of older sister as well. She was the oldest in her family, and there were three brothers between her and her sister ten years her junior, so she had substituted older kids in their training groups as her elder siblings- at least those that would allow it.
Sarad's purple gaze turned back to the encampment. "What do you think of him?" Taken aback by the sudden change in discussion but hiding it well, Koska followed the other woman's line of sight until she located the object of her interest: Din Djarin, already awake and moving among the tents as well, the green child toddling along behind. As they watched he moved from fire to fire, greeting those gathered around them and appearing to exchange pleasantries. The firelight gleamed off the gunmetal black hilt clipped to his belt. The Darksaber.
"I don't know. He is a mystery, to be sure." Her mind raced back to the few times she had interacted with the man: the ship and the cantina then the freighter on Trask, the mission to rescue his child from Gideon, his presence with Lady Kryze on Plazir-15. He was a quiet man, to be sure, more comfortable with actions than with words, though she had seen that changing during their most recent mission. He was obviously driven by a deeply-rooted sense of honor, and in spite of his bounty hunter past, he seemed to have a firm grasp on right and wrong. "But I see a great love for his people, and the desire to see to their success over his own." She watched as he gently scooped up the child and tucked him into the crook of his arm, the three-fingered grasp instantly wrapping around his buir's gloved thumb.
"A single action can tell you more about the state of one's heart than a thousand words, Koska." Her mother's words resounded in her heart, as clear as if they had been sent straight from the Oversoul itself. If that were true, then the testament to the condition of Din Djarin's heart and soul far exceeded a million words.
I am alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Edrei Reeves, Keili Reeves, Dom Reeves, Sho'cye Reeves. Bo-Katan Kryze. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, silently reciting a mantra she had crafted following the Purge, for so long the only thing that gave her the strength and will to fight: I live in your memory. I fight in your honor. I follow for your sake- Papa, Mama, Brother, Sister. Friend.
She could feel Sarad's gaze move back to her at the sudden change of countenance, but Koska's remained on the pair, her voice resolute even in a whisper.
"Oya, Mand'alor."