"A prisoner is a burden to his captor

and a liability to his comrades.

Neither take a prisoner

nor let yourself become one."

―Ancient Irmenu military doctrine

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.o0o.

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Ad'ra had already tensed for the blow, flinched from it, when it stopped suddenly.

Walon Vau's unyielding strength stopped Zam short. The clawdite wasn't even bothering to struggle, although she seethed and her face contorted.

"You're not her mother," the man said.

The utter control in his voice sounded like disinterest. He might have been pointing out a scuff mark on the floor for a maintenance droid to address.

"Trust me," the woman replied. "Things would be different if I were."

He just lifted his brows as though her comment were unrelated. Instead of responding verbally he lifted his other hand, wrapped it around the one he'd arrested when he'd seen her draw back to slap Ad'ra.

Not that she didn't deserve it.

When he released Zam she frowned at the fist he'd made of her fingers.

"Go ahead," he gestured.

"I'm not punching a girl!" she objected.

His brows quirked. His expression remained stone-like.

"She's a child! You don't slug a child!"

"You don't strike a superior officer with an open hand. It's an insult." He hated seeing a slap administered. It made his stomach churn. So demeaning.

He had been often as a child. Well into his teens.

He was damned if someone was going to backhand Ad'ra Rottske.

Her eyes—big, round eyes that usually held interest or spark—looked up at them in doubt.

"It was my fault. I said something I shouldn't have."

"Then you'll learn to curb your tongue. Or, knowing you, you'll learn to take a punch since I doubt you're going to grow meek and submissive."

The woman let out a sound of dissatisfaction, turned on her heel, and stormed away.

"You don't have so many allies that you should offend the ones closest to your benefactor," Vau advised.

"I know. She irritates me. She thinks because she and Jango are partners that she can herd me. Like I'm some roba that's too intent on eating to realize I've been fattened for the kill."

Vau filed that horrifying mental image for later. He realized that just because the idea of bedding the clawdite made his skin crawl that some of the men here might not feel the same way.

"I can't wait until he decides I'm good enough to go on ops where he needs her and she's the one left."

He couldn't help his amusement at the pout that overtook her face. Chucked her under the chin.

"Time will tell."

She bent to answer Mird's pleas for attention.

"I'm going to train you to be my attack-kitty," she told the strill. "See her try to blend in with no flesh left on her face!"

"He's already trained to attack—on my command. And he's not a kitty."

"Pfft."

She went on petting and tickling the strill. Held out the skirt of skin between its legs and teased it about needing to form buckets with them to catch his drool.

When she straightened he was just standing there, his arms crossed and his head tilted slightly.

He'd hated the look in her eyes when he'd rounded that corner. Wary. Afraid. "Why does she scare you?"

There was a shrug. "I guess… most people I know which side Jango would come down on. Her? I don't. I just don't. Half the time I get vibes like he doesn't trust her all the way, like maybe they're both keeping an eye on each other. Then I hear them laughing—at night or when we're all out together—and I think she makes him happy, too."

He tried to control that shudder of disgust again. Failed.

Ugh. Blech. There was no accounting for taste. Maybe she changed into something human-er in bed for him. Or maybe love really was blind.

Ad'ra laughed up at him. It seemed the cuddle had done her good, though, as she beamed at him.

"I do appreciate the save, Sergeant Vau. Thank you."

"Try not to piss people off," he advised. Thumped his cuisse with his fist and led Mird away.

.

.

"Your father was a professional assassin?" Asirel asked, leaning close to Ad'ra. When she nodded eagerly he leaned toward her. "And this is an honorable profession where you're from?"

She shrugged. "It paid for upgrades on our ship with plenty of money to leave at home. Right, Jango?"

"It did," he said, his eyes cool.

Jaig tried to intercede. "There is no shame in being a warrior in our clan. No shame to be found in being good at a skill set. And your father was the best."

"But there's a great scope of difference between fighting for a glorious cause and teaching your children these subversive tactics. Surely even your Mandalorian gods would agree that it's far from noble to attack from behind like some ambush predator, rather than marching toward your fate. When we fight holy wars we meet our enemies eye-to-eye. We don't hide from our demons. The very idea that you have to hide what you're doing should tell you that it's murder, not warfare."

"Stuff it, Az," Vau hissed at the half-human. "Murder is murder and if you're doing it because some god told you the world was a dirty place that just makes you a fanatic, not a disciple."

Fett made a face. "And the philosophical contributions of Walon Vau, everybody," he clapped sardonically. "So articulate and culturally inclusive to all."

"Surely you don't agree with his ramblings."

Kal Skirata leaned forward. "He's a right to his own views."

"Then view them from the inside of your bucket and leave off waving them in front of the rest of us."

"You're out of line, Sergeant Vau," Skip murmured. "Fold your tent and give over. Nobody came in here today to satisfy your need for a fight."

Asirel held up his hand. "The sergeant has a right to his opinions as well. I will endeavor to keep my ramblings amongst friends. But, just as you indoctrinate young initiates to your idea of Manda and manda'yaim, I have a right to offer salvation for young souls as my God commands me."

"Ad'ra's soul isn't up for grabs, Az," Fett told him. He went back to eating.

The girl looked miserable. She stabbed at the food on her plate instead of eating it. Pushed it around and pulverized it until it hardly resembled the meal they'd been served.

.

"You're not going to hell," Jango told her when they left the room.

"You don't know that. Not for sure."

He pulled her into a sideways hug. "Okay. Maybe Manda'yaim is in what Asirel would call hell. But I'm okay with that. We're all different. People have different needs and desires out of life. Fill different roles. You've no need to beg forgiveness of any man's gods for the things your father taught you."

"At what age, though, am I responsible for the lives I took? Am taking?"

"He knew the job was for the training of a large military force. To act as range master, armorer, and instructor for cadets numbering in the thousands. He never asked the question of who they'd be fighting for or who they'd be killing. He cashed the cred and showed up."

"Can he quit?"

"Nope," the man drawled. "Only one way off this place. Exfil coordinates and last cash drop at the end of the contract. Until then you're mine. Or you become fish food."

"Is that honorable?"

"Is it honorable to renege on a contract?"

She shook her head.

"You're not going to hell. Girl-child. Look at me. This is just a job. You're doing the right thing, teaching them about our culture. Giving them our way of life. Saving them."

"Saving them so the forces that determine manda versus dar'manda can pass judgement on them later? Wouldn't it be kinder to give their souls to a different, more benign deity?"

"We're a race of hardasses and killers. Our whole culture is based on standing by the people in your clan and honoring the ones that fell first without sacrificing our connection with the ones around us. What religion do you think you're going to find that better suits a cloned army with no mother, no father?"

"I just want my vode to be safe when they die. Just like I want them to learn everything they can now so there's less chance of them dying needlessly."

"Every warrior dies a needless death." Fett sounded tired. "Every death is meaningless if you back up far enough. Every life you or I have ever taken, every cred we've ever raked in—what will it mean in a millennia? What effect does it have on the history of things?"

"I don't know," she confessed. Rubbed her forehead. "It's too much for me to decide right now."

"When you know you'll be one step ahead of me," he conceded bitterly. "Now there's nothing to do but honor the ways of our people, do the job you take the cred to complete, and do it to the best of your ability. That's it and that's all it's ever going to be. Six tenants, dear-heart, not ten and then two."

"A lot of the ten and two make sense. Would make the world a better place."

"His God sent men to die in battle, turned women to pillars of salt and stone, cast children out of their homes, and soaked the ground with the blood of his beloved. You'll excuse me if I don't line up to bow down to Him."

"He also said I love you and love one another. Many times in Asirel's books on Him."

Fett shrugged. "I love you, Ad'ika. I loved your father, loved my fathers. Will teach Boba to love and honor in turn. That's a mighty strong foundation upon which to build."

She pursed her lips. Nodded at him.

"I understand. It's the same, really, except we start with the fourth commandment. And turn it around so it works both up and down."

"No sense demanding loyalty and honor from the ones below you if you don't intend to honor and adore them in turn."

She smiled at him. Hugged him hard.

Ran off with straightened shoulders as if he'd solved the mysteries of the world.

And, perhaps, that was the only mystery in her world.

Luck favored the bold, brave, strong, and prepared… that's how the quote went, right? His children would need it, no doubt, but he'd be damned if he didn't send them out to meet fortune with the best tools he could build them already in place.

.

.

He took her on an op with him just to reaffirm her confidence in what they did. What her father had taught her, had passed down to her. Let her take the helm from the copilots seat. The liftoff was good. Superior, really. Then she seemed to get stuck with her hand poised, ready to send it into hyperdrive.

"Ad'ra?" Fett prompted.

"Just a second," she commanded, her hand on the stick.

She had the coordinates plotted in. Was as good with the Slave 1 as he was.

She just needed a second.

"What is it, sweetling?"

He rarely used pet names. Was easily physically affectionate with Boba. Just as he had been with her when she'd been small. He'd mostly trained himself out of it.

She was an employee now. Marshal of his troops. His adenn, as her father had been before her.

Liam left a hole in his heart that would never be filled.

He watched her lick her bottom lip. The big, dark eyes that Liam had passed on to her gleamed as she stared ahead.

"What are you watching, girl-child?"

"Just the space of it. How big it is. I love it."

He tore his gaze off of her.

"How many stars do you see?" she asked him.

"How many do you see?"

The wetted lips now found themselves beneath her teeth.

"Seventy-six if I don't turn my head."

She was terrifying, that brain of hers.

He watched the fervor in her eyes when she looked over at him.

"I want to know the names of each of them. I want to know the names of every planet and every moon in each of their systems."

"They won't all have systems," he announced sadly.

"Maybe you're wrong. I believe they do. I'll find the truth."

"Probably not."

That made her cross. He bit back his amusement as she grunted and stuck out her jaw.

"You don't believe me?"

"I believe you believe it."

His teeth flashed out in a grin.

"Do you know their names?"

"No, but the on-board should. Image-catch it and then we'll pull it up."

"May we go to the blinking yellow one?"

"Ad'ika, that's a satellite."

She frowned over at him.

"Close your eyes for thirty seconds, then look again."

She obeyed. Complied just because he'd asked her to. If only every request he made of her was given such respect.

"Face front," he said softly. "Then open them."

"It moved," she said quietly. "It's going the wrong direction."

Fett's face was serious. "I don't lie to you. If I don't know I'll tell you—or at least tell you to the best of my knowledge."

"Do you love her?"

"Who?" he asked.

"The clawdite."

He chuckled.

"Nosy. No. I don't love her."

"Why?"

"For one thing, she scares the crink out of me."

Ad'ra laughed. "No she doesn't. I think you're sleeping with her."

"What do you know of men sleeping with women?" he asked, tugging the end of her hair.

She'd braided the sides back tight against her skull. Left the mass of it to fall freely down her back. It was gorgeous, the way it accentuated those cheekbones of hers. Made her eyes look huge.

Lee had never had that wide-eyed look about him.

She sighed. He was pretty sure Liam hadn't ever sighed, either.

"I'm going to have a lot of boyfriends someday," she told him. Wiggled her fingers. "They can buy me finger-cuffs to decorate my armor and we'll hold hands while we plot world domination. What do you think?"

He loved her. Loved the cheeky grin she shot his way.

"I think if you're plotting world domination you'd do better to pay attention to the details rather than lust after a boyfriend."

"I can do both."

"Anybody I know?"

She grinned at him. "Maybe I'll put you in cryo and make you be my boyfriend when I'm grown up enough," she teased him.

"I might be the last perfect man left in the galaxy," he told her.

"May I bring a couple of my vode up here? Just to look. Not to go any farther?"

He looked out at the vista.

"Which ones?"

"Just Olan and Roger, probably. They'd appreciate it the most, I think. It's different—seeing it like this—different than the sims of star charts and navigation lessons. Olan would probably spend as much time looking at the other side of the clouds, though. He likes them."

Fek.

He shouldn't.

"Yeah. Fine. Just be discreet about it. Make sure they know to keep it mum."

She launched herself at him. He laughed as he caught her exuberant hug.

"Get us into hyperspace, dinii."

She took them out, took them up.

Roger was fascinated with the ship. Explored it voraciously.

Olan was content to sit in the wide viewport and stare.

"Beautiful?"

He nodded. "I never knew they looked so white from the other side."

He was used to the clouds being storm-grey. Always.

Unendingly.

.

.

"Ad'ra…" Fett called when his young charge made to escape her administrative duties in favor of pastimes that blew up or practiced blood-letting.

She turned and circled back.

He held up a comm report.

"What the hell is this?"

She went to her toes to peek at the flimsi in his hand.

"Um. My comm records?"

"And?"

"I was doing some research."

"You know the rules."

"It was a secure circuit originating in the Slave 1 and rerouted multiple times. I didn't bounce it straight from here. And, if I'd needed to, I could have buried it so that not even you knew I'd been making the calls."

"Who the hell did you talk to on Yavin 13 for forty minutes!?"

"A taxidermist," she said with no guile.

He gaped at her.

"You're fekking kidding me."

She shook her head.

"Why in the… Ad'ra…" His face didn't look like he'd be inclined to hear any explanation patiently or with positive reception.

"He's the one Da used to take stuff to. Someday I'm going to need a business relationship with him," she explained. "But I don't remember enough about Da's hunting trips to know what I need to do with a kill before I get it to him. If they need to be frozen or-"

"So you just randomly took my ship up, propped your feet on my control deck, and chatted the man up?"

She rocked her head back and forth. "Yeah. I mean, I wasn't in the cockpit. I took some juice down to the side-port. I like chasing the moon."

He was breathing deeply and evenly. Trying to tamp down the urge to reach out and thump her right between the eyes. What did you say to that? You couldn't kill someone for being so clever she could subvert the Kaminan scientists' tracking systems and still so innocent that she wanted to see the sky while she chatted up a kriffing taxidermist.

"You're not going hunting with us," he decided on finally.

She pouted.

"Not yet."

"Who are you taking?"

"I will never, ever give you that information ahead of time," he swore.

He didn't know why it mattered. Knew she'd have a reason for asking, though, and wanted no part in her schemes and stratagems.

"I'll figure it out," she muttered to herself.

Pushed away from the wall and pouted a little as she made her way down the hallway.

He saw her hesitate when a large, frilled Kaminoan came around a corner from the opposite direction.

They freaked her out.

He didn't blame her.

He had to fight an overwhelming urge to chase her down, turn her over his knee, and beat the hell out of her when she bared her teeth at the scientist approaching him. Hissed.

.

"New challenge, vode," she called when she entered the tiered classroom where they'd be working. Four other companies joined them. She tried to keep up with the flash training but it usually took her sitting in on two or three sessions of the same lesson to gather it all.

Her acting CC, Tell, clicked his teeth to open a comm channel to include just the 4th ASSRC company.

"Do tell."

"I'm going to snatch a quick grab of the schedules posted and logged requests and we're looking for holes. Who's not going to be in specialty areas, an unusual amount of flash or solo work, which companies are going to be unattended for more than 48 hours at a time."

"Kandosii!" Om cheered. He glanced to his side. Grinned at Olan.

"Just because there's a site on-schedule for us doesn't mean that area's director will be leading personally, though," Harrod suggested.

"I know," she sighed. "We'll look at that. I think I know who might be heading out. I just want some confirmation. You don't know who's friends with who like I do. We'll see if your data matches what I come up with."

She settled back, her arms crossed and her ankles crossed under her. The visor-band worn for the flash trainings was so much less busy than the HUD system in the junior helmets. So much more comfortable. She wished she could simplify her buy'ce's program to something like this—three windows, a data scroll, and comm POV options.

Information raced by. Her boys were engrossed instantly, leaning forward.

Something amused Olan. He shifted in his seat, glanced over his shoulder at her.

He was ahead of her. She'd gotten a late start, so—SNORT. Badness. Pure badness. She made a face and reached out with her toe to nudge his chair.

Giggled.

"Probably not what the kute meant."

"Not my fault we know so many languages," he said softly on an internal.

"Is this really the time and place for gutter humor?"

"Gotta get my kicks where I can."

She nudged him again. Knew from the set of his shoulders that he was still staring intensely at the lessons as they scrolled. It wasn't his favorite subject. It was hers.

"Cultures are so bizarre."

"Agreed," she murmured. Frowned at her own screen. "Don't eat me if I go down on an op."

"I thought you were adenn."

"I assure you, eating my heart won't make Jango appoint you in my place."

"I figured anybody named merciless wouldn't have a heart to eat."

"Here's hoping," was her reply. He glanced over, just enough to catch her in his peripheral vision. Snickered at the face she was making.

A strange voice filled her 'link.

"Anybody named anything like courage or bravery or that kind of osik, both hands in the air."

They obeyed without thinking.

"Yeah," the voice laughed. "You're the evening meal on your death day. Hope you make good gravy!"

She glanced up, her face falling away from amusement as two bodies went swinging overhead.

Kriffing NULLs.

She discreetly palmed her kal. Wondered if she could notch his line without hitting any vode on the way down.

Olan was reaching out and behind him.

She handed it over.

Watched him flick it over in his hand, then wing it hard and straight up.

It struck and then stuck. The second leap-swinger was airborne. Headed for a catwalk observation point. Probably could've caught himself, but she figured there was going to be a splat.

His brother reversed his swing at his whoop of fear and ricocheted using his feet. Caught him mid-air. Swung up and retrieved the knife.

"Oops," Om called in his deeper timbre. "We're all gonna die now."

"Shush," Ad'ra told him. Was already typing in her comms as the Aiwha-bait went nuts about the interrupted training.

'I didn't do it. It wasn't us. It was the Null ARCs. Two of them. Can't get close enough to scan for which ones.'

'Damn it, Ad'ra. I told you to stay away from them.'

'They broke into a flash-session and made rude comments.'

'And?'

She bit her lip hard, thinking.

Nodded in satisfaction.

'And a daring member of the 4th attempted to neutralize the threat to integrity of the programming using a weapon requisitioned from attending superior officer. Situation was resolved but there was momentary disruption of the proceedings and supervisory future-kutes are a little miffed.'

'And you just happened to be there?'

'Did you know they eat the hearts of fallen warriors in some places?'

.

He was waiting for her when the training session let out.

Of course, instead of just rewinding it a couple minutes they'd started them over.

Lack of imagination and problem-solving skills. Ad'ra's utilized the replication by starting on her assignment.

"Do you not understand that there's encryption and review of every single message sent in any way, shape, or form here?"

"I am. I'm shielded. Are you?"

"Of course I am. Plus you have my secure-"

He made her point for her.

"Don't call her kute."

"She thinks I have a speech impediment."

"You do. Your grandmother was half-Bothan. You're lucky you don't have whiskers and a cleft lip."

She stuck her tongue out.

"Mandalore isn't the sole providence of all good things, you know."

"It is if we steal it and make it out own."

He was in a good mood.

"Can I take care of Boba while you're gone?"

The wizened face considered.

"Yeah. You two can sleep in the big bed." He knew what that request really was. "I want to see some results, too. No using my codes to access stupid movies."

"We'll work hard. I promise. You'll be so proud of us!"

He bent, tugged her in for a side-on hug. "I already am, genius. Can't you tell?"

"It's hard. Where I work for you and I piss you off sometimes."

"Resign," he told her. Tapped her on the nose. "If you weren't supposed to be so formidable and imposing I wouldn't get irritated about the foolishness."

"But I like my job!"

"Then get back to it! Stop slacking around in this hallway with me!"

She punched him hard in the gut. Ran off.

Ran back and hugged him.

"Have a good time! Stay safe!"

"We will."

Off she went again, inexhaustible.

"Tell Jaig and Chief Asirel and Sgt. Vau that I want a tusk! One for each of us!"

He threw an un-primed smoke cannister at her as she ran off again. Tagged her on the ass, which made her squeak, just the noise of it against her skids plates.

The fucking thing popped when it bounced against the wall, delighting her.

He could hear her laughing even over her pounding footsteps. Watched until he couldn't hear her anymore.

Looked up and grinned at the ceiling, through it to the heavens above, hoping Liam could hear that laugh of hers. How she'd pinned down half of the party he was taking out hunting was beyond him. And knew what they were going after, too, unless the tusk comment was a lucky guess.

Not much fun in sport hunting unless what you were going after was more dangerous than you were.

He took down two. Insisted on bringing back both skulls for the kids.

Could be damned if it looked like favoritism or nepotism or whatever the hell he knew people bitched about behind his back.