29 ABY
New Sundari, Mandalore
The kal flew across the training area in a flash of silver, its razor-sharp tip plunging dead-center into the last in a long row of target mannequins. Cheers and gasps of awe erupted from trainers and verd'ike alike as two more quickly followed, sticking within a fraction of an inch of the first.
"Winner!" Thirty points were added to the holo-scoreboard, securing a landslide victory for the trainee clad in gray-blue and teal armor. Even the silver mudhorn, the aliik of the royal house, painted on her right pauldron seemed to grin in satisfaction as the competition concluded and the rest of the trainees gathered around with words of congratulations and the expected good-natured ribbing for everyone else.
Bo-Katan Djarin slipped the buy'ce from her head, her auburn curls spilling free around her shoulders, and basked momentarily in the acclimation of her vode. The competitions were always the highlight of the training sessions, allowing the younger Mandalorians to indulge in a bit of fun while putting their skills to the test. The throwing knives were Kat's specialty - evidenced by the fact that she had yet to be beaten in that particular challenge.
"I can't believe how good you are at that," her best friend Shona gushed once the others dispersed.
She gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's all in the release. Here, let me show you." While the rest of the trainees streamed out of the room, bound for the cafeteria and their midday meal, Kat set aside her helmet and retrieved her knives from the dummy before returning to the line where her friend stood and pressing one into Shona's hand. She stepped back and allowed her to take her normal stance before coming back and making adjustments: a slight shift in her friend's grip on the handle, the angle of her arm, and other minute details her own teacher had to correct on Kat before she could even come close to hitting the bull's-eye. With a nod Shona let the knife fly, the point sticking just a few inches below and to the right of the center. "Better. Again."
They repeated the process over and over, quickly losing track of time until a new helmeted figure appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and head tilted slightly in a gesture of amused exasperation.
"You two done making confetti out of my targets?" The overhead lights glinted against the slate blue and charcoal of the newcomer's beskar'gam as he tugged off his own helm and strode over to them. Though his swarthy countenance was stern, the tone of his accented voice held an edge of humor, which Kat could now see glinting in his dark eyes.
Shona shied away slightly in deference, but in a moment of admittedly childish impertinence that was sure to draw a chastisement from Nite Owls alor'ad Axe Woves- and likely her buire when they heard about it- Kat quickly turned a one-handed cartwheel, loosing one last kal as she came out of the tumble. She swiped a hank of curls out of her eyes to note with satisfaction that her aim had been just as true as before. "Now we are."
A choking noise came from Shona while the elder Mandalorian rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath something about her clan that would have been grounds for a challenge were he not such good friends with her father. Grumblings finished he pulled two ration bars out of a pouch on his belt and tossed them to the girls. "Good, because you've missed lunch and if you don't get moving you're going to be late for class."
Kat fought the urge to curl her lip at the tasteless packet in her hand- a mild punishment for missing a meal, designed to teach punctuality. Or at least that's what they were told. It remained to be seen if any of the verd'ike cared enough to learn it. "Elek, alor'ad." Still quiet as a mouse, Shona snapped a hasty salute, Kat copying the gesture, then they gathered their weapons and helmets and hurried from the training area.
Her friend waited until they were down the long corridor and out of earshot before turning to Kat. "You keep pulling stunts like that and everyone's going to think you're a trainer's pet." The smirk that accompanied the words should have reassured her that Shona was only joking, but instead her mind interpreted it as a caution that soured her mood.
"They all think that anyway," she grumbled around a mouthful of the dry biscuit. One of the many drawbacks of being the daughter of the Mand'alor, despite her father making it perfectly clear before she even entered the academy that she wasn't to be treated any differently than the other cadets. Two years of fighting like a strill to be at the top of her class and still she heard regular mutterings that she was somehow receiving special treatment from the trainers. Even victories like today only went so far to still the wagging tongues.
Kat pushed aside the thoughts as she scarfed down the last of the ration, lifting her chin a fraction. She knew her victory was well-earned, and she wouldn't let the jealousy of others- and that was all it was- dampen her mood. If Shona noticed the slight tightening of her jaw she said nothing as they reached the classroom and settled in for an afternoon of classes.
-0-
The hours passed uneventfully, and after one last sparring session Kat bid her friends farewell and stepped out of the academy building into the afternoon sunshine. She drew in a deep breath of fresh air, laced with the aromas of freshly- turned earth, fertilizer, and the veshok trees planted around the city. The previous winter had been unusually balmy, meaning an early spring and the soil being ready for flowers and planting a few weeks sooner than usual. But in a way it was a blessing, allowing extra time for the beautifications to the city before the arrival of a delegation from the New Republic in a few days.
As she wandered down the streets of Sundari toward the palace, she couldn't help but marvel at the city that had slowly been resurrected in a place where there had once been such utter destruction. Of course she had never seen it with her own eyes except for the handful of remote places on the far side of the planet and ruins that sat empty and silent underground, but she knew all the stories of how the empire had betrayed their deal with Bo-Katan Kryze and obliterated the planet, killing tens of thousands of Mando'ade. Even though she wasn't there to see it flourish again, it was fitting that her nephew, Konrok, was the one who brought the means by which they were able to grow plant life again and live outside of domed cities.
Crossing one last street Kat loped around the corner to the entrance her family normally used when not accompanied by guests, nodding to the two Cabure flanking the doorway and receiving salutes in return. The heavy wooden door fell closed behind her, muffling the noises of the city and enhancing the quietness of the palace. The royal residence had been the last building erected following their people's reclamation of the planet and re-establishment of Sundari and was mostly built of light gray stone, supplied by the nearby planet of Bandomeer in thanks for the recovery of several important cultural artifacts plundered during the reign of the Empire. Thick rugs- some treaty gifts and some made by their own weavers- padded the thud of her boots as she wound through the halls, following her nose toward the kitchens when her stomach loudly broke the silence of the corridor.
The strong smells of spices and yeasty bread intensified as she reached the top of the stairs that descended into the space, and she peeked around the doorjamb to see that their cook was nowhere in sight, but a pan of freshly baked curry buns sat on the counter. Kat made one last scan of the room before creeping down the steps, intending to snatch one and high-tail it back to her room to enjoy her snack in secret. But the second she grabbed the roll from the tray, a wooden spoon whistled through the air right where her hand had been, missing her knuckles by a hair and landing on the counter with a smack that nearly made her jump out of her skin. She spun to face a red-skinned Zabrak, instinctively hiding the roll behind her back. How their cook managed to move so quietly on cybernetic legs would always be a mystery to her.
Yellow eyes narrowed at Kat. "You're going to have to work on your stealth more than that if you're going to get past me, child." One dark brow arched in a challenge that carried no real heat which Kat met with a cheeky smile. Kasha Jendri cut an imposing figure and guarded the domain of her kitchen as staunchly a Tusken massiff, but somewhere along the way Kat had managed to get on the cook's good side.
"Duly noted." She hopped up onto the counter and took a bite of the curry bun, her senses instantly hit with a hetikles that would linger for a solid hour after she finished it. Not that she minded; one of the many things she'd learned from her father, Din Djarin, was how to appreciate spicy Mandalorian cuisine.
"Why did you miss mid meal this time?"
"I was helping Shona with her training." She swallowed the last bite of the roll, wiping the oil from her fingers with the rag folded neatly on the countertop beside her. Kasha stepped in front of her when she caught Kat eyeing the pan. Fine; she wasn't that hungry anyway. She let out a dramatic sigh, followed by a wink to the Zabrak, then dropped down from the counter and skipped back up the steps to find the rest of her family.