Chapter 12: The Realization

"It never ceases to surprise me whenever I find stowaways. Normally, they're a lot more aggressive, though."

I jumped out of my skin at the sudden commentary, shoving the tarp that I'd been using as a makeshift blanket from my freezing form. Still groggy as hell, I sat up and tried to find something, anything within the vicinity of the mess around me to defend with. My rifle. Where's my goddamn rifle? Succeeding only to find a half-eaten piece of bread, I grunted in frustration, then tossed it aside, forgotten. Throughout my panic, a sole flashlight beamed at my face, unrelenting as consciousness found me once more.

"Aurora. I was wondering where you had gone off to," a second, lighter voice called out, lined with a mixture of concern and sincerity.

"Huh?" The adrenaline tapered off as the threat of danger dissipated. I protected my face with the back of my hand and squinted, using my other hand to prop myself up from the cold, durasteel floor. As my eyesight finally adjusted and cleared, I could make out the faint shadows and silhouettes of two new guests. "Plikt. Ahsoka. Hey."

After several days of helping the people of Kalevala recover from the aftermath of the attack, it had been a while since I'd really had contact with, well, anybody. Despite the walls and defenses that I'd built, the quarrel with Din at the infirmary had splintered something inside of me. Through all of the rage, disappointment, and hurt, I had made a split decision to pack my meager belongings into my backpack, slung my rifle over my shoulder, and vacated Din's home without a word or warning. Drunk on emotion and unable to think clearly, I had wandered the grounds of the outskirts of the main city, eventually stumbling upon an airfield. Several hangars were stocked with a variety of ships of all classes and states. Supplies were still littered across the space, unsullied. As the Mandalorians kept their focus on recovering and rebuilding, I was able to find what seemed like an abandoned ship and made it a shelter for the time being. Though it was only a matter of time until someone would find me, I had hoped that it wouldn't be this soon.

Ahsoka crossed her arms as a smirk tugged at her full lips. "Something tells me you aren't here to admire the craftsmanship."

My current living situation was embarrassing. Any Sergeant Major who saw just how filthy this space had become would've torn me a new one. Packs of empty rations littered the ground, forgotten and abandoned. A makeshift line for laundry crossed the entirety of the cabin, holding only a few pieces of clothing - including some underwear. The sorry bed in which I sat was barely a bed, contributing more to back pain than sleep. And the smell - I really hoped that no one would notice the rank smell. I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck. "Please don't tell anyone how I live."

The twinkle of humour on Plikt's light countenance dissipated in his own assessment of the space and my state, now replaced by concern. "Hey, you okay, each'trannach?"

I gestured unenthusiastically to our surroundings, raising a brow. "Yep, livin' the dream."

The air around us shifted. Ahsoka took graceful steps to my side. She was always so calm, so poised. Did she ever panic? Go through what mere mortals go through? Crouching, she placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Things didn't go well with Din?"

She always had an aura about her that made you want to tell her everything - fears, hopes, dreams, and nightmares. Her all-knowing gaze was hypnotic. Through the embarrassment, I couldn't hold it for long and shook my head. The distaste in my voice was difficult to control. "Even when you attempt to save someone's life, it seems as though you can somehow still do it wrong."

Plikt crossed his taut arms with a wince. Ever the realist, he remarked, "Well, I mean, given the circumstances, you're pretty lucky that he didn't kill you."

"Plikt," Ahsoka's tone was laced with warning. She nudged him with an elbow for good measure.

The Mandalorian Commando retained his innocence as he raised his hands placatingly in front of him. With a sigh, he added, "Look, I'm just saying. Knowing the Mand'alor, if it had been someone else who had done what you did" - he made a dramatic slicing motion across his throat to underline his fine point - "they'd be dead before they drew their next breath."

I threw him a tired look, my lips pursing into a thin line. "Wow, Plikt. Let me guess. You guys don't get sensitivity training as Commandos."

"What's sensitivity training?"

I rolled my eyes and pushed myself off of the ground with a grunt. "Thought so."

Plikt waved off the earlier conversation and took a few steps forward. "So, what's really going on between you and the Mand'alor? I mean, it's pretty damn obvious that there's something, so don't even bother to deny it."

It took me several moments to consider his words. Was it really that obvious to everyone else? What exactly was going on between us? I couldn't deny it. I cared for Din, more than I could ever admit out loud. The hurt that I had felt on the day of the attack - and the hurt that currently coursed through me - was a testament to that. But what was I even expecting? Sunshine and rainbows? I'm caught in my war, and Din in his. There was no time for convoluted emotions, no place to think that there could be something more when all of this shit was going on around us, within us. We were only bound by an oath - one that he clearly still had to fulfill - and that was it.

Right?

When I didn't reply right away, he persisted with:

"Do you love him?"

That effectively poked a reaction out of me. My head snapped towards him, alert. "What?"

Ahsoka's gaze fell upon me, patient and curious.

"The Mand'alor," Plikt repeated, a little softer this time. "Do you love him?"

My heart seemed to beat a little louder, as though coaxing a reply. I held my face in my hands with a sigh, then combed my fingers through tangled hair. "Why does that matter?"

His lips twisted as he appeared to be deep in thought. "Because love can make people do very stupid things. Like, say, removing the helmet of the Mand'alor."

"Plikt, he would have died if I hadn't."

"I know, I know."

Despite his idiosyncrasies and blatant need for sensitivity training, it was obvious that, deep down, Plikt was a good man. He was true to his beliefs, valued what it meant to be a Mandalorian, and honoured the title of Commando. He was one of the first Mandalorians, other than Din, who had shown me kindness after having landed on Kalevala. Though he could poke at wounds and be a little dramatic, he inevitably became someone who I could actually call a friend here.

"Plikt, I have something to tell you." At first, I eyed Ahsoka for support. She gave me a slight nod. It was clear that she already knew what I wanted to do, and that she trusted Plikt with the information. With a sigh, I turned back to the Mandalorian. "But please keep this between us."

Though I knew he was itching to release a witty rejoinder, eventually, his curious eyes alternated from Ahsoka to me, gaze softening. "Anything, burc'ya."

It was as though a dam burst within me. It could've been the aftermath of being starved for companionship, or the fatigue from not knowing what was going to happen, but it all spilled out. I told him everything - from who I really was, to how I got to this galaxy, to what Din, Ahsoka and I had been trying to do all of this time. His expressions seemed to run through the entire gamut of emotions, morphing from amusement, to wonder, then to concern. He didn't interrupt once, captivated by it all. When I finished, he merely stared at me, jaw set, hands clasped loosely in front of him.

"So?" I leaned forward expectantly. It wasn't like him to keep quiet. This was weird. "Say something!"

He released a low whistle with a shake of his head. "Well, that at least explains why you are so strange."

Ahsoka couldn't hold back a snort herself.

I shoved his arm with a laugh. The sound seemed so foreign now, but it was welcome. "God, you're an ass!"

He rested a hand on my shoulder. Compassion shone through him. "Look, if you want, you can stay with me as long as you need to. While we figure all of this shab out. I have a spare bedroom," he gestured around us, "and it beats living here."

"You don't mind?"

The winning smirk graced his angular face once more. "Of course not. I'll even make you some bantha-butter pancakes in the morning."

(V)(V)(V)

Staying with Plikt was different from staying with Din, but it was comfortable - definitely more comfortable than holing up in an abandoned ship or, heaven forbid, in a makeshift tent outside. It was similar to living with a university roommate, but with a different kind of stress looming over us. We were quick to find our routine, though given his arduous commitments, and the fact that my fate seemed unwritten at the moment, I was left to my own devices for most of the day. As his modest, metal-and-glass home was part of the long rows of similar houses at the outskirts of the city, Plikt was kind enough to introduce me to many of his close neighbours, with some even inviting me to training and meals. When they realized that I was also doing my best to help rebuild, and that I really wasn't any threat, it was nice to see an expression on their faces that I had longed to see since I had gotten here - trust.

Deep in thought at the end of another day, I sat alone on the sole couch in the living room, right leg anxiously bouncing. Though being more welcome in this neighbourhood, in this society, was a fortunate turn of events, truthfully, it still didn't bring me any closer to home. Should I even cling to hope any longer? Did Din even care about what happened to me anymore? Would Ahsoka's contacts even be able to help?

"Aurora, come with me." Plikt called out as he strode into the room with purpose, bringing me out of my reverie. He busily gathered his armour, tucking the helmet under his arm and placing on his boots. The movements were quick and purposeful. "Just got a message. The Mand'alor is gathering the tribe chieftains and Commandos at the hall right now. It might be important for you to hear as well."

Though there could be answers about what was to come, the hesitation was debilitating. I froze, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat. My thoughts raced to seeing Din once more. The cuts and bruises still seemed too fresh, despite a couple of weeks having passed since we'd last seen each other. Despite not having spoken to Din since the night of the attack. "I don't know if I should. I don't think I belong there."

Plikt frowned. He almost looked like Ahsoka at that moment, seeing right through me. "Look, whatever is going on between you and the Mand'alor can't last forever." He sighed, crossing his arms. Why did he seem like an irate parent right now? "You also can't avoid him forever."

I can damn well try, my mind retaliated childishly. But what else could I do? I certainly couldn't shack up with one of Din's Commandos forever, waiting for someone to save me or tell me how to get home. It was like tapping out, giving up on fixing the situation. On my own issues. In the end, there was enough resolve left in me, and I gave him a nod of resignation. "Fine. But I'm staying in the back."

The walk to the great hall was mostly silent, the tension surrounding Plikt palpable. He wouldn't divulge the conversations he had had with the other Commandos prior to the meeting, but there was a noticeable shift in his demeanour and expressions. It wasn't the time to prod further, so I camouflaged to the background, curious as to what was to come. The last time we were in this hall, the ambiance was that of revelry and delight. Tonight, it was the completely opposite vibe, with tired, forlorn expressions on the countenances of the Mandalorians who were called upon to gather. My heart constricted at the thought that perhaps some of these people had lost loved ones during the attack, their hopes for a long-lasting peace shattered in one, bloody battle.

But in a lifetime of war, could there be any rest?

What was normally a brightly-lit space seemed shadowed tonight. Cold. Uninviting. Mirroring their expressions, I followed Plikt closely through the crowd. We meandered through the sea of multicoloured armour until we could find an unobstructed view of the dais a few meters away.

"Mando'ad! Ke'sush'!" Grov's deep voice cut through the light rumbles of conversation. Instantly, the crowd fell into a disciplined hush, their attentions now all on the middle of the dais.

Din took a step forward, as though emerging from the night. My pulse quickened at his sight, and I leaned back on a metal column for support. I fought hard to steady myself. Din began, "Thank you for coming. I have gathered you all here tonight to inform you of some of the discussions that your clan chieftains and I have had. Most importantly, we would like to tell you, face to face, the decisions that we have made." Din surveyed the crowd, and they continued listening with unadulterated intent. He stilled as his gaze landed upon me, though carried on with, "Thrawn's forces grow stronger. We have just witnessed that. We can no longer lie dormant - preparing, scouting, rehearsing. What they have done to us cannot go unpunished." He paused for several moments, as though fighting an inner battle. His spine straightened. "But doing so will come at a cost."

"We are Mandalorians!" A female voice from somewhere in the crowd declared without hesitation, her fervour palpable. "We will not be oppressed by tyranny. We will fight to the death to ensure that we remain free and reclaim our homeworld!"

The electricity in the room sparked. The crowd rumbled in agreement, with many heads in the sea of people nodding their support. The will to fight was reinvigorated.

Din seemed somewhat uncomfortable by this response, though eventually nodded in understanding.

At my side, Plikt bristled and stepped forward, his own discomfort visible. "Mand'alor, are you sure you are able to face this? The tribe that attacked us…"

Din's hands balled into fists, though he retained his royal bearing. "That is of no consequence. We will do what we must to protect our home. To reclaim our world."

"You said it yourself, Mand'alor," a dark-haired man, roughly in his mid-twenties, spoke up, his posture confident, "their numbers keep growing. What do we do?"

Din regarded him. "We strengthen our own."

"How do we do that, Mand'alor?" another spoke up from the back of the crowd.

"We enlist the help of old friends."

The whispers and curses about this Grand Admiral Thrawn had grown exponentially since the attack. From what Plikt had told me of their current fight, Thrawn was continuously building his Galactic Empire to strike at the New Republic. His insatiable taste for power spanned the galaxy, his campaign devastating to so many creatures and planets. This Chiss Supreme Commander wasn't just any regular officer under the command of his masters. If the Mandalorians wanted even a sliver of a chance of defeating him and regaining their homeland, they needed all of the help that they could get.

The meeting continued for a few minutes longer, with the intricacies of their plan being discussed first in the open forum, then in smaller units. As some Mandalorians thinned out of the main hall, Plikt stepped forward to join Din by the dais, as did some of the other Commandos. Shifting uncomfortably on my feet as though my shield had disappeared, I remained in place.

"...Regardless, everything was going according to plan until she got here."

Through the conversations, I only caught the latter half of the acerbic statement. When helmeted and non-helmeted Mandalorians began to turn towards me in waves, my head snapped up, finally realizing that the statement was meant for me. At Din's right hand side, Vera visibly seethed, her chest rising and falling, her face so red that it seemed as though it was going to burst momentarily.

"Vera, come on," Plikt began, exasperated.

Perhaps she wasn't the only one thinking that. Though, some of the expressions on the observers' faces were a mixture of agreement, pity, disbelief, and defense. I met her furious stare, unwilling to allow the personal slight to remain unanswered, particularly in such a public setting. Did she think I was a doormat? "What exactly are you implying?"

The satisfied smirk on her face exhibited that she was enjoying getting a rise out of me. Whether she actually believed the statement or not, the doubt and mistrust that she was now casting upon me seemed to advance her fight. This woman clearly needs a hobby. Poking at the fire, she hopped from the dais and stomped over to me. She didn't hesitate to jut her crumpled face towards mine. Her tone was falsely sweet. "I would hope that you'd be at least smart enough to figure that out."

I rolled my eyes, unfazed by her tantrum. It would take a lot more than this kind of attack to get me to stand down. "How can people stand you? Seriously! Do you really think this is how a tribe chieftain should act?"

That hit a nerve. It looked as though she was just about ready to throw a punch my way when Din stepped forward. He made a point to physically move between us - between a tornado and a tsunami. We automatically backed away from one another, chests heaving, teeth almost bared. When Vera lowered her head to him in submission, he placed a hand on her shoulder and said something in her ear that was inaudible to the rest of us. Though it was fleeting, the act seemed intimate. It tugged at something in my chest, burning through me. Placated by whatever he had said, her shoulders slightly relaxed. The angry Mandalorian woman eventually let go of the topic, not even casting one more glance my way before she swirled on her booted heels and stalked back to the sides of the other clan chieftains.

Appearing from behind Din's leg, Grogu surveyed me, his little brows furrowing. He was a sight for sore eyes. A waddle forward, then a curious tilt of his head. Ever so slowly, his tiny, tri-fingered hand reached out and rested on my right calf. "Eah?" he greeted softly.

"Hey, little guy." I gave him a half smile, crouching to his height and placing a hand over his. "I miss you, too, buddy."

The interaction was meant only for the two of us, but Din's stare burned through me throughout it. But he didn't say anything. Didn't come to my side or place a comforting hand on my shoulder. Didn't even ask how I fared, whether as a result of what had occurred between us, or even in the aftermath of the public attack just moments ago.

He just stood there.

The walls seemed to shrink around us. My body itched to move, as though it were catching fire. Unwilling to take the abuse and various stares any longer, I stalked directly towards the exit, head held high, stare fixed only on the door. The escape.

"Each'trannach?" came Plikt's faint call as his footsteps pitter-pattered closer from behind. "Hey, where are you off to?"

I had enough decorum to at least wait until the large set of doors behind us had closed before screeching in utter frustration. The air seemed so much colder now. "God, what an asshole!" I kicked up a few pebbles on the empty street for good measure. The gesture didn't result in much, but violence seemed to be the only answer at this point. With another growl, I stomped forward, though not entirely sure where I wanted to go. Why did these streets all look the same? "Could she please just take a spaceship and fly into a fucking black hole?"

As the Commando fell into step with me, he crossed his arms and gave a wry smile. "She can, but I have a feeling that she won't." He quickly spoke into his comlink to one of his comrades, announcing his leave for the night. Then, he gestured his head to the left, towards the back street that led towards his home.

"She has some nerve blaming me for what's happened. Fucking preposterous."

"Hey, come on, burc'ya." He gave me a little nudge with his elbow. A comforting expression was plastered on his handsome face. "Remember, not everyone knows why you're really here. Or what you've done for the Mand'alor." The expression then morphed into something knowing. Teasing. "Plus, I'm pretty sure she's also just jealous that you've caught his eye. It's not an easy pill for her to swallow, you know."

Despite his attempt to lighten the mood, I began to count my arguments on my fingers. "One. Not my fault that she's an asshole. Two. Not my fault that I've been sucked into this world with apparently no way out at the moment. And, three, not my fault that…" my speech faded as I stumbled on the words. It was difficult to talk about whatever had been happening between me and Din. I shook my head as though it would get rid of the confusion. "Bottomline is, none of this is my fault! Jesus H. Christ!"

"What's a 'Jesus H. Christ'?"

That at least managed to elicit a short laugh from me. With my anger finally dissipating, I shook my head at my companion, smiling at him fondly. "Ugh, nevermind, Plikt. Let's just go back to your place."

(V)(V)(V)

The stress of the day was overwhelming, and I couldn't wait to just fall into bed like a toppling tree and turn my brain off. As part of my nightly routine, I made myself one last drink in Plikt's modest kitchen, the liquid a bright shade of blue. Bantha milk, he called it. Surprisingly, it was damn delicious. It was almost like regular cow's milk, but much thicker and more potent. With the glass tucked safely in my hands, I headed up the stairs, wondering whether I'd have nightmares again that night.

A light rap sounded at the metal front door.

Who could be visiting at this time of the night? Placing my drink on the hallway console table and tying my robe more tightly around my waist, I listened for Plikt to emerge from his room, but the rummaging within the space seemed to signal that he was occupied at the moment. Curious, I hopped down the stairs and poked my head out into the main hall. The series of knocks sounded again - not heightening in urgency, but a little louder this time. Not sensing any threat, I opened the door slightly.

And froze.

"Aurora." Din took a step back, his posture exhibiting a mark of discomfort. Within a second, he righted himself to his full height once more, lifting his head. My own reflection stared back at me.

It was the first time that he had said my name and really acknowledged me for weeks. A moment of wilting, awkward silence passed between us. To hell with this. I combatted the tension using a different tactic this time - facing it head on. To support the offense, I opened the door a little more fully and stood at the doorway with firm footing. "Hi."

He took a few more seconds, as though to collect his thoughts. The stiffness in his body didn't relent. A deer caught in headlights. "I didn't expect to see you here."

What, you expected to see me on the streets, begging for food? Or, better yet, dead in a ditch somewhere, where I'd no longer be your problem? The rage within me began to build once more. Had he really not asked anyone about my whereabouts? Did he really not care when he found out that I had left his home? Discomfort trickled through my spine, but I managed to push it down somewhere deep inside of me. "I'm staying here," I replied simply through clenched teeth.

A few more moments of deafening silence. The calls of nocturnal animals began to resonate as though to fill it. Din managed a slight nod. He took an almost imperceptible step forward, stiffly as though he were being held back by an invisible forcefield, then extended a brown, leather sac to me. "I just came to give Plikt some supplies. For the journey tomorrow."

"Oh." Our fingers slightly touched as I retrieved the bag. Even as my bare skin connected with his gloved hands, electricity flowed between us. Waking me. Betraying me. I attempted to ignore it, forced not to show any sign of it, and kept a steely expression. "I'll make sure he gets it."

"Mand'alor?" Plikt's voice called out from the top of the stairs as he approached. Shirtless as he rounded the corner of the hallway, he moved towards the metal door in easy strides and swiftly placed on a tunic. I cleared my throat, my gaze lifting to the white ceiling as the Commando finally covered a set of washboard abs.

"Plikt." Din sounded as though he were trying to keep composed, but the words on his lips came out almost like a hiss. "Supplies for you as we discussed."

I held out the bag towards the now clothed Commando without a word, eyes landing on anywhere but him or Din at this point. I took a step back, allowing the two men to stand face to face. They were equal in height.

"Thank you, Mand'alor. I appreciate it." The Commando stood at attention and gave him a high bow. His light eyes quickly fell between me and Din, perhaps feeling the growing tension surrounding us. He then placed a supportive hand on my shoulder, as though to steady me, to remind me that I didn't need to be uncomfortable. I didn't miss the way Din's eyes first landed on the contact between us, then on my face. Plikt cleared his throat before saying, "I'm going to prepare for tomorrow." Then, without another word, he left me to fend for myself, like the traitor that he was, and disappeared upstairs.

Din looked like he wanted to say more, though his fingers had curled into fists. He remained half turned towards me, half ready to bolt. "Pack and prepare for tomorrow. We leave at first light."

It was an order, not a request. His voice was devoid of emotion. The harshness of the tone contributed to fueling my anger. I didn't even know what the hell was happening tomorrow, or where we were going. I didn't even know that I was required to come. And he just expected me to drop everything and do as he ordered? After not even so much as seeing if I were still alive after a few days? "It'd be nice if you remembered that I'm not one of your soldiers or subjects."

"No. You're my responsibility."

He probably meant 'burden' by the way he said it. Also, why the hell was he giving a shit now? After he just let me walk out of his home's door without a goddamn care? My being seethed with contempt. "I'm not some kind of animal that -"

"I made a promise. I'm going to take every chance I get to fulfill it."

Hurt and anger battled within my chest. This wasn't about me. This was about him, and what his damn pride wanted, wasn't it? Hell, it meant that he wanted to send me home, to be gone from Kalevala altogether. I'd seen his face, so now he'd be working his ass off to make sure he didn't see mine anymore. "Look, if you want me gone from here, then just say it! Don't hide behind your goddamn promise!"

He shook his head, a crack in his mask forming. "Aurora, that's not -" he struggled to find his words, his own footing. His voice was a mere whisper as he asked, "I thought you wanted to go home?"

I did, didn't I?

So why was I fighting him so damn hard on this?

"Things are in motion now that are beyond our control. My control," he continued when I didn't reply. His tone was steady at the beginning, though it faltered at the end. "War is coming, Aurora, and it won't be safe for you any longer."

The broken memories of the attack flashed through my mind.

Images of the city on fire, of kinsmen fighting one another, of fallen Mandalorians…

…Of Din's unmoving body, of his blood on my hands.

No. Din was wrong.

War was already here, and whatever kind of offensive that was on the city, it was only the beginning.

He waited a few more moments for a response. When he didn't receive one, through what appeared to be an inner struggle, he gave a silent nod and stalked back into the shadows of the night.

As though reaching for something to hang onto in the heart of a raging tsunami, I rushed forward and blurted, "I don't understand."

No, I didn't understand. Didn't know what I had even meant by that.

Din halted and twisted his head back.

I forced myself to speak, to clear the pandemonium in my head. "The tribe that agreed to help us. They gave you their word. Why would they attack us?"

There was a long pause before he replied with, "It wasn't them."

"What?" Another step forward. "If not them, then who?"

"My father's tribe."

(V)(V)(V)

A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Well, after being super busy, going on holidays, and some writer's block, I've finally managed to write this new chapter. It was a hell of a struggle, but I'm happy enough with the end product to share it with all of you. I think, as this story goes on, I become much harder on myself and want everything to be perfect, but sometimes, you just have to write and let it go! Hopefully, you enjoyed this one and are on the edge of your seat for more. More to come! xx IFHD