Chapter 67

718 FNM (20 BBY) Month 1

Mandalore, Sundari Royal Palace

Satine Kryze

Talzin the witch was flanked on both sides by Royal Guardsmen wearing ancient Baar'beskar'gam. Suits of resplendent Mandalorian craftsmanship defaced with icons of depraved violence and conquest.

They were historical pieces, but despite their age, they were still power armor, enhancing the strength and capabilities of the wearer. Pre Vizsla had urged the Royal Guard to use every precaution against the Dathomerian Matriarch, and I had few qualms myself for practicality alone.

She was the most dangerous person in this room, and no one was ignorant of that.

As the Witch approached I glanced left to Sefera, she stood proud and undaunted and I drew upon that confidence. For a split second, our eyes met, and her harsh expression softened ever so slightly and I felt the fury that threatened to overwhelm us both subside for a moment.

The Witch seemed to glide across the throne room, her long skirts obscuring her steps. She halted and bowed politely, "I offer my most sincere apologies for what happened to your daughter on my homeworld." The remarkably tall woman sat back up, looking up to meet my furious gaze. She paused for a moment, drawing upon all her oratory skills to assuage my anger, "I know the pain and anguish of having your child stolen away from you."

Her eyes flitted left and right to her escort. Her attempt to seek pathos with me was obvious, and my mind couldn't help but notice it and have irrational annoyance flit through it, "I hope that you shall know the relief of having them returned to your bosom." To punctuate her words she pressed her hands to her chest and lowered her head deferentially with a neutral expression.

"You would have us believe that the Nightsisters, agents of disorder, had nothing to do with this abduction?" Sefera accused, overriding my prepared response. I could not show weakness by confirming Sefera spoke out of turn.

The Talzin's lips thinned as she regarded the Jedi at my side, but rather than respond to her, she turned to me. I guess I should be grateful she was not acknowledging the faux pas, "Have I not submitted to interrogation? Have I not overseen the surrender of my people? Have I not offered every asset, every resource I have at my disposal to your cause Satine Kryze? I accept responsibility for this tragedy, as the host of your daughter, but I do not accept intent."

"I trust in the Force and it cautions against you, Witch." Sefera pressed, taking a step down away from me and closer to Talzin. Again, the Witch did not respond to the aggressive probing of Sefera and maintained her gaze upon me.

I saw the change in tactics before she spoke, her face transformed, it was almost laughable how transparent she was being as she mockingly called, "Must I consume the milk of peace in recompense for my failures, honored Mand'alor?"

I felt my fists clench at her words, "NO! Damn you, no! What use would I have taking your life? I want Tanya- my daughter back!" My outburst seemed to genuinely take Sefera aback while Talzin performatively did the same. My Guards watched the exchange with stiff professionalism as Sefera looked up at me as the world became blurry and indistinct.

"Satine..." Safera whispered. The warmth she preferred to bury, to suppress, carried to me as I wrestled with the cyclone within.

"Take her away, treat her like the guest she is." I ordered and the guards moved to obey without question, "I shall deal with her later." I announced as Talzin offered a respectful bow and was led away just as quickly as she had approached.

A heartbeat after Talzin was gone, Sefera moved towards me as I stood up from my throne with a slight sway. The strength and vigor that had filled me were gone, all that was left was rage and fatigue. The intent to hold the Witch accountable for Tanya's abduction was there. Yet, I knew that would only bring hollow satisfaction and eternal consequences for my people.

"Satine?" Sefera reiterated, no doubt sensing my doubt and sorrow through the Force.

"A small part of me wanted her to do it." I wiped the wetness away from my cheeks and looked into the Jedi's eyes. "I wanted to kill her myself, just for an instant. Just for her involvement in drawing Tanya to Dathomir." Sefera's expression became solemn for a moment.

"But you decided otherwise." She reassured me, stepping forward to pat me on the shoulder, electing a laugh of pain and frustration. I threw my arms around her as she stiffened, for all of their power, Jedi always seemed to be taken off guard when you pounced.

"Di'kut Jetii." I murmured before she relaxed and held me through the pain.

Engiz Ordo

The trip from Ordo was not very long. Concord Dawn and Ordo were only a few light-years away from each other. That made it a good place to start.

Whether I would be successful was another question.

Watching Concord Dawn grow closer with every passing moment was a mesmerizing experience. Surrounded by seven or so moons, all of them inhabited to one scale or another, it was an amazing thing to wrap your head around. So many places to be, so many places to hide.

Concord Dawn was an odd one when it came to the Mandalorian sector. While it was indeed part of the sector, they always had an independent streak. Oftentimes refusing to be called Mandalorian, preferring Concordians. They had their own dialect of Mandalorian, and this was one of the few Mandalorian planets that had a larger population of alien Mandalorians, with about a dozen or so for every thousand Mandalorians.

There were entire communities, towns, and species living on Concord Dawn that weren't officially registered. Accounting for the entire population in this system was impossible. So many lived here it had been theorized that it might have more people than Mandalore itself.

I wasn't alone today. About a dozen Clan Ordo guards had been assigned to me by Raz. I didn't know if it would work, but having every man I could get for this job was a step in the right direction. 'Dawn was rough at the best of times, and a lawless wasteland usually. Most of the time, the only sight of law and order you'd get would be from the Journeyman Protectors. They were a mixed bag at the best of times, see-sawing from the best in the sector to corrupt as Hutts.

Currently, they'd been militarized to the point that they were an occupying army. Not great for what I needed to get done. I just had to hope that they weren't working for the Confederacy.

I couldn't avoid them like I normally did either. My prey was too big to land anywhere but Sunrise, Concord Dawn's capital city. So I had to deal with the Protectors personally.

"Well, this ship all looks as shabby as ever." My brother announced. Fabian poked his head into the cockpit and gave me that winning smile of his. He'd joined me on this little adventure, no questions asked.

Fabian liked to take things fast. Swoop bikes, stunt fighters, lightspeed. The only thing he refused to touch was pod racers, he'd attempted it once and sworn the whole thing off. That and slug throwers, he hated the weight.

But with a speeder, he was a wizz. Not to mention he liked to ride with the crowd who surfed here in 'Dawn. He had friends everywhere, which is what I was banking on.

"It's brown," I finally said, "not sure what you want from her."

"Oh, some red here, yellow there, caution stripes everywhere." Fabian finished pulling himself up onto the flight deck and sat on the co-pilot's couch. He put his foot onto a console and slicked back his feathered hair. "Ever since Governor Perkins, Pekin, whatever the blast he's calling himself, took over, the Protectors have been assholes." He chuckled as he pulled out a data pad and connected it to the computer, "Granted, it's what's expected. A lot of people have been displaced or killed during the civil war kerfuffle."

"Who is in control these days?" I asked, trying to clarify.

He shrugged, "If I had to put my money down, I'd say that Perkins is in control since he holds the purse strings. But if a politician like him didn't serve the lawmen to some extent outside of creds, I imagine they'd overthrow them in an instant to put one of their guys on the throne."

"Great, don't trust anyone to stay bought." I translated as a message appeared on the nearby console. I acknowledged the landing coordinates and set the ship to autopilot to fly us in, "Any idea on who we can trust?"

Fabian blew a raspberry, looking exasperated at me, "Come on bro, the pirates and the criminals," he declared matter-of-factly, "who else?"

"That seems counterintuitive." I nudged.

Fabian tched, "You can trust them to be pirates and criminals, so you know what you're dealing with. They don't go around starting fights for no good reason, unlike some cocksure Prick-tector. 'Dawn treats 'em good, so they don't want to get a bad rep around these parts."

Well well, that was actually handy, "That's not helpful at all, bro." I teased instead.

Fabian gave me an eye, "Saying, 'money makes the world go round on Concord Dawn,' you got money, then you'll get the information you need. Reputation is enforced by execution here."

"All right, that's a step in the right direction." I teased some more as I accessed my personal safe.

My brother sat up and took his feet off the dash to watch me, "That's not the standard design on a Lancer." He muttered, "Don't trust our Ordo boys?"

I sighed through clenched teeth, "Tanya likes to keep backup plans everywhere. She showed me where a few of them are." The safe slid open after I finished inputting the code and pulled out several credit chips, sliding them into a pouch on my belt before closing it all back up

"Damn, little bro, you found a survivalist princess, lu-cky bastard." He poked my arm in the way big bros did everywhere, "Welp, we're coming in for that landing. I'll ping the local net for any of my buds, but failing that, you need to get out more and talk to people. Try the local bureaucrats manning air traffic control, they're lonely, single, and hot, if you catch my drift." He winked at me as he stood up and began to climb down.

I twisted in my seat, aghast, "I'm not gay!" I called after him.

"Who said you had to be! Live a little, little bro! Practice those people-person skills every once in a while! They keep track of the comings and goings of ships. If the ship carrying Tanya is here or came through here, they'll have it. You love Tanya? You'll take one for her, right?" He laughed as he walked away.

I grit my teeth, and depressed the intercom stud, "What are you going to do about your armor, bro? You didn't bring any."

He scoffed, sticking his head back in to shout, "What does it say if I talk to old friends wearing combat armor? You do your crusade thing, I'm going to run a low profile. Mind giving me some of those credits? Money can loosen some lips."

I reached into my pouch and clinked about half the credits out, "You can keep whatever you don't use. Tanya won't mind considering we're trying to find her."

"How considerate for her feelings." Fabian called, walking back in to take the money and stick it in his own wallet, "I think money's the last thing on her mind man, I'll do my best, I know how much she means to you."

"I know," I admitted, and felt the thunk of the ship finishing its landing procedure, "talk to you later bro."

"Later bro," He saluted with two fingers, "get laid if you can. You won't always look so dashing in and out of your armor!"

I rolled my eyes but stood up to join the rest of the Ordo guards, "All right, just to clarify our mission, we are looking for any and all evidence of a Gonzanti class cruiser passing through this area. We have reason to believe Tanya Kryze was aboard. If so, we need to know where it was going, how long ago it was here, if it's still here, and we need to be ready to launch an assault on it if it is here."

There was general agreement among the clansmen. There was a lot of money, prestige, and esteem to be won if they were the ones to find Tanya Kryze. Several of the other guardsmen nodded their heads in agreement. One of them asked, "If the authorities come poking around, what should we do?"

I hesitated for a moment. No one had yet called me 'sir' in my life, but I was jolted alert when I realized, as the Royal Guard in charge of this operation, it was me. I cleared my throat, "If they get in our way, we get rid of them. If it's violence or guile, we'll have to decide case by case, but if we get a clear shot at Tanya, we take it, damn the repercussions."

With no other questions or comments to answer, I stepped forward and pressed the cargo bay door button. A droid was waiting patiently at the foot of the cargo ramp, data pad in hand, "Greetings travelers, I'm Oh-Two-Three Dash Kilo. I am your service and ambassadorial droid for your stay. How long will you be docked in Sunrise? Will you be availing yourselves of our fine facilities and services? We sell fuel and parts at the going galactic rate."

I stepped forward and pressed a golden credit chit into the droid's hand, "This should cover our stay for a few weeks. Tell me, who is on duty at the air traffic control tower?"

The droid looked at the credit and then back up, "I'm afraid air traffic control is not available to the public. If you have complaints or questions for the staff, a visitors kiosk is available in the spacer tapcafe down the street. If you wish to talk to the dockmaster, he doesn't like strangers walking into his office. But, he is amenable to impromptu visits from esteemed guests." The droid raised its hand, angling for another credit chit. I put another large denomination down, "He might be willing to speak to you for a short time. His time is very precious."

"So is mine." I answered, resting a hand on my hip, above my blasters and vibroknives were.

"Well, esteemed guest, he would love the opportunity to entertain you for a short while." The droid said, "Follow me." The droid slowly waddled away. We made our way through the port doors and into a main hallway, taking a few wild turns before ending up in front of a nondescript office.

After a long minute, where I saw several cameras look at us and snap some pictures, the door opened to reveal a Devaronian.

He held his hand out to the droid who deposited my payment, and he counted the credits carefully before pocketing one of the cred chits and handing the other back to the droid who disappeared behind him, "Well, you've bought ten minutes with me." He eyed the Mandalorians accompanying me. They were all wearing the same Mandalorian colors of the Ordos clan, but I was wearing the colors of my clan.

"We require access to all docking records for ships with these specifications." I presented a prepared data pad to him, and folded my arms in front of my chest.

The man took the data pad and skimmed it over. Once he finished after two minutes, he looked at me, looked at the droid, and declared, "He can come in. The rest of you stay outside." My guards looked to me for confirmation, and I looked past the dockmaster to see his office was too small to accommodate everyone anyway, "Get yourselves some drinks boys, if I'm not back in twenty minutes, burn the place to the ground." I stepped inside, the droid falling behind. I noted that he kept his office immaculately clean, very smart and tidy, except for one picture of his family.

The Devaronian sat down heavily at his desk and plugged the data pad in, "Alright, the standard administration fee to look at our records is two hundred credits, alongside an insurance waiver, and a deposit. If your business causes trouble for us we need collateral for any damages caused by your actions." He presented me with a data pad and I read it over, "Make it quick. I've got paperwork to do."

I produced the credit stick and plugged it into the man's desk. He looked at his screen patiently, "Your credit is good." He admitted, "Alright what time frame are you looking at for this Gozanti?"

"Within the last twenty-four hours. It probably had to park and refuel." I answered automatically.

The devaronian raised an eyebrow and relaxed in his seat, massaging a horn, "I'm sure you're aware how many of those cruisers exist, and one of those passes through here every hour. You can look at the raw data but for your sake, I hope you have something more to go on."

"It would have been a CIS ship or at least registered to the CIS." I admitted, "That won't be a problem, now will it?"

The devaronian weighed his options, "Yeah, we've had two of those actually. One just passed through three hours ago, picked up a tank of fuel, and set off into the unknown. I have records on their flight plan, for all the good that will do ya." I produced another credit chit and slid it across the table.

The devaronian looked at the credit chip, "Well, there is a way to know where they actually entered hyperspace too. The Journeyman Protectors keep tabs on every ship's entry and exit points for navicomputer reasons. You know, make sure people don't impact each other in those busy hyperlanes. You have to get past the guards there, national secrets you understand, can't let just anyone in."

"Can you get the information?" I asked. I didn't particularly care about the how or why, just if he could.

He leaned back in his chair, "I can. If you're willing to pay an additional docking fee for the whole month."

I considered it, "What was that about a second ship registered to the Confederates?"

He looked at me and smiled, "There's another ship in the port halfway across town from here. I can give you the docking bay and directions. It just arrived, and it's picking up a passenger, from what I understand, someone who was on the first ship."

I nodded slowly, trying to hide my excitement, "Give me the directions. Find out where that first ship entered hyperspace."

The devaronian smiled, "Shall I authorize that month-long rental of the docking pad?" I stuck my credit stick back in and he sucked down a surprisingly reasonable amount of credits.

"You can name your price and you take so little?" I asked.

He chuckled, "I'm a businessman, and I make most of my money through repeat business Mandalorian. Think of me next time you're in port. You know my rates are fair." He grinned a needle-toothed smile, "Now, off you go, you've got a ship to catch!"

Putting my helmet on, I stepped out of the office. The others had been served a round of something or other by the service droid, who was carrying a platter covered in steaming cups.

Everyone looked up expectantly, many gulping down their drinks with undue haste before placing them back atop the platter, "What's the plan, sir?"

"We've got two leads. Our guy is going to get us the direction of a ship that's already left. In the meantime, we handle the other lead. There's another ship here that did a passenger or crew transfer from the first. We're going to be paying them a visit."

We didn't have long. While we didn't exactly sprint, we were making our way hurriedly through the busy midday streets of Sunrise. We stuck out like a sore thumb and everyone gave us a wide berth as we marched into the loading bay for the bulk cruiser we were after.

At the door, a pair of B1 droids, reconverted from their cargo to combat and now back to cargo, were standing guard at either side of the doors.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be here." One with yellow detailing on its head declared.

I took my vibrostaff off my back and swiped it across the torso, severing it in half.

The other droid leapt back, "We're under attack!" It wailed before a blaster bolt took it in the face and my team kicked down the doors to enter the loading bay itself.

I called loud and clear, "I heard that there's a person here who just got off another one of these transports. They wouldn't happen to have been the missing Princess of Mandalore, would they?"

"No, they would not." A hiss of barely contained rage replied automatically. Looking past the B1 droids who had been loading cargo, I saw a monstrous man with yellow facial markings and horns coming out of his head. He had two heavy-duty blasters at his hip, and he looked ready for business, "But if you want, I can send you back to Mandalore in tiny pieces."

"Alright, I'm giving you one chance before we kill everything here and take your ship by force. Where is Tanya Kryze?"

The sound of stomping boots drew my gaze backward to the door we just busted down. "What the hell is going on here? This man is a guest of the governor, and he will not be intimidated!" The sound of charging blasters reverberated across the loading bay. The Journeyman Protectors held blaster rifles at the ready. They'd not yet sought cover, but they had me and my team penned in. A human with twin circles on each shoulder spoke up, "You are currently trespassing on private property. We are going to have to ask you a few questions." Not a threat, quite clearly not a threat. But it was a demand, a very solid demand, to delay us long enough for this ship to escape.

"Hmmm. I don't have time for the full speech, so I'll make this brief. If you fight us, you will die. Your friends in the rest of the city may kill us through sheer weight of numbers, but you all specifically will be dead by the time that occurs. I advise you to leave us to our business." I threatened, while my team made a circle of guns to face all comers, "I am authorized to arrest this man on suspicion of withholding information regarding the kidnapping of Tanya Kryze."

The sergeant looked around, confused and aghast all at once, "You're willing to start a war between Concord Dawn and Mandalore? Are you insane?"

The alien giant rested his hands on his blaster pistols. The only thing holding everyone back was the plain truth that I absolutely was willing to start a war over this.

We were in a full standoff, and the longer we waited the more time my foes had to escape. But before I could start this fight on my terms, the board was flipped.

An earth-shaking kaboom rocked us all, and a shadow overtook the sky, plunging us all into sudden darkness.

Everyone looked up, even the giant, to gawp in awe at the Maelstrom in all her glory. The symbol of the Death Watch, a striking shikhawk, loomed over us all.

The bay doors opened, and a cloud of Mandalorians began pouring out. Joined by dropships emerging from the port and starboard launch bays. With them were Kom'rk heavy fighters, loaded for mythosaur.

In my moment of distraction, the alien had climbed back aboard his ship and closed the door. The Gozanti cruiser didn't even waste a second and started powering up.

All at once the gunfight started, screaming of pain and fury, began in earnest.

I reached into my utility belt, pulled out a tracking beacon, and threw it onto the hull of the cruiser. That was all I could do as it began to ascend, angling into a shallow rise to try and avoid the heavy starfighter cover that was enveloping the city.

With the purpose of their quest now gone, the Protectors retreated without a second thought, leaving a handful of their fellows behind, dead on the ground. The Ordo clansmen didn't pursue. They had a job, and I was the boss, "What now?"

"We can't wait for our friendly dockmaster to come through on his end of the deal. We need to find the Protector's data vault on the other side of town. It's our next best lead."

"That's a big assumption." One of the men shouted, then added, "But we're not exactly swimming with options here. Let's get going sir! Before Death Watch beats us to it!"

Mandalore, Sundari Royal Palace

Satine Kryze

Weeks had passed since Tanya was captured with who knows what being done to her, and I found myself holding together through force of will alone. I was surprised that I still had the strength to manage it. However, I wasn't content with the way things were unfolding. The Dentari Enclave seemed intent on provoking a war with the CNS, and drawing us in.

It didn't help that they were the most likely candidates who had kidnapped Tanya. While their demands remained undisclosed, Governor Almec suggested that they might be feeling pressure due to Republic forces gaining access to CNS space. While this had hindered the trade of critical resources from reaching their territory, I was skeptical that was why. If they had kidnapped Tanya to demand a corridor back to CIS space, they would have informed us to establish leverage, and if that was their plan, it seemed to have backfired.

The routes between the CIS and the Dentari were now completely closed. If the Republic wasn't occupied with stopping one of the largest offensives of the entire war, they would have had more than enough capability to eliminate the Dentari and end the matter entirely. It was a sad realization, considering the former leaders of that region had been among the wisest before the war started.

Calming myself, I continued to filter today's reports. The conflict on Vorpa'ya had escalated, with the Journeyman Protectors fired upon by Anteevy forces. It seemed to have been some sort of effort to try and force them out of their positions quicker since they were already retreating after Death Watch struck Concord Dawn itself, which was something I was still trying to wrap my head around. Why did they do that? I couldn't tell for sure, Death Watch could be unpredictable at times, but why Concord Dawn? Did they know something that I didn't?

A small part of me wished I had some way to communicate with the Death Watch. Unfortunately, everyone we had tagged as Death Watch or Death Watch Sympathizers had gone into hiding or had mobilized to join the assault on Concord Dawn personally. With no way to contact them, coordinating with them was impossible. Either way, the governor of Concord Dawn had demanded CNS protection from the 'crazed terrorists' as he called them.

I'd managed to get a Republic cruiser to divert from the main war effort to assist in driving off the Maelstrom. It'd been a close-run thing and had only happened because the cruiser was returning to Kuat for repairs, and Republic Command had acquiesced to diverting the ship if it could be repaired here on Mandalore instead. It worked as a show of force, as Death Watch retreated almost as soon as the Cruiser made orbit. Their initial goals met, and they were concerned that more Republic cruisers might be on their way.

Death Watch's assault on Concord Dawn had thankfully resulted in few fatalities among the Protectors, and the fighting had been contained, so no civilians had died. The attack caused the normally difficult governor to be more cooperative out of fear and nothing more. The Death Watch strike on Concord Dawn would raise the price of food in the interim, as many warehouses and food silos had been raided or put to the flame. Long-term good and short-term bad.

However, the situation on Vorpa'ya had been a casualty of the raid, as it was split between CNS and Anteevy forces.

The Reds had occupied a quarter of the planet, as the Journeyman Protectors had withdrawn. I had some concerns that it might spiral further out of control now that only the CNS remained. Thankfully, the Jedi had managed to intervene personally.

Master Rahm Kota, the man who had been in charge of overseeing the temple on the planet, had negotiated a deal. Each month, both sides would draw down their units simultaneously until there was only a small detachment of CNS and Anteevy forces on the planet. Personally, I would have preferred to see no Anteevy left on the planet, considering it was CNS space.

But Master Kota, the wise man he was, had a bigger view of the planet. Vorpa'ya supplied food, corporate and humanitarian, to both Mandalorian and CIS space. As much as I disliked it, it was the humanitarian thing to do, and sometimes you needed to lead by example instead of leading to a conflict between the CIS and Anteevy. I hoped the Republic and the CIS would take the hint.

Hopefully, time would pass, and Tanya would be found, safe and unharmed, and this would all be over soon.

Shaking my head, I absentmindedly wondered where my sister was. I could use a trusted hand around here with all the crises occurring.

My personal secretary droid stepped into the room, "My Duchess, there is a call from Count Dooku. Shall I route him to you?"

Many questions raced through my mind, "Put them on. Let's see what they have to say."

My secretary's holographic projector started up, and Count Dooku stood with his cape draping his shoulder in mourning, typical play upon emotion, "Count Dooku." I greeted him, keeping a measured voice, "I expected a call from you earlier, considering the situation."

"Duchess Satine," the Count announced with an odd, and therefore deliberate, pause before adding, "I would have contacted you earlier if I had any news regarding your missing senator." My eye twitched at that.

"Unfortunately, I must come bringing nothing but my condolences. I was unable to find any information for you. The offensives by the Republic are taking the majority of my staff's time. I cannot devote as much time and resources as I would like to try and find Senator Tanya."

I schooled my features and my tone, but a little bit of hostility did enter my voice when I said, "Perhaps you should find the time, Count. After all, the CIS is your government, and the Dentari enclave is part of your government."

"Was part of my government." Dooku bristled, looking away from me as he continued, "They are now cut off both territorially and politically. The Confederate Parliament has voted to withdraw support for them. Their actions went too far. Until they can be brought back into the fold properly, they are not part of our government."

"And what does that mean?" I pressed.

"I have deployed an agent to bring them back into the fold. Hopefully their investigations will find Tanya and return her to you, alongside those who took her in the first place. I made this call to inform you as such, and to impress upon you that the Confederacy is not your enemy, and we are not at war. Our border is rife with violence, and I wanted to make sure that this was understood by both sides. Rogue parties may want us at war, but we are not, correct, Duchess?"

I resisted the urge to say something in anger. Instead, I bowed my head amicably, "The CNS and the CIS are not at war. I will not call for one either. If I knew the Dentari held Tanya I would declare one in a heartbeat. But I would not unleash a conflict with a hammer when a scalpel can do the job." I narrowed my eyes and leaned back on my throne, "The Dentari may be acting as a rogue state now, but they are a rogue state that was enabled by your war and your actions. Many people have taken issue with our failing relations at this moment. I expect that the Republic will find more mercenaries joining their forces due to the CIS' failure."

"I see." Count Dooku elongated.

I would not start a war. If they push too hard, well, if someone else starts a war, I would defend Mandalorian independence and the sovereignty of the CNS. But kidnapping is not starting a war. Raiding a planet to steal its military equipment equipment, that was pretty close to starting a war. While that had been an act of war, it could just be piracy of the highest order. If the CIS decided to wash their hands of the Dentari exclave, fine. I'd let them out on their own, and if we could find Tanya it was better that way.

"To address the relations between us. I imagine they'll be strained for a bit due to the whole conflict. Continued trading will be tough, but I promise we will fulfill our contracts and obligations with the CIS. Our position remains unmoved despite Senatorial restrictions and the shifting of the front line." As much as I was loathe to let them off with a slap on the wrist, this was for the best.

"Thank you, Duchess, for that assurance. If I hear any news of Tanya, I will, of course, send it your way." Dooku assured me, "I will be putting out a press release later today to confirm the feelings I've relayed here. Will you be doing the same?"

"I will be doing the same." I said.

He gave a final nod, "Good luck in finding your daughter, Duchess Satine. Goodbye."

I took a deep, calming breath. Something I had to do all too often these days. My moment of calm was interrupted by my secretary, "My Duchess, another call has come for you while you were entertaining Count Dooku. It is from Jabba the Hutt, do you wish me to put you through?"

I sat up, reinvigorated for someone who was honest with their criminality, "Put them on." If he was calling, that invariably meant he had something to share.

Jabba appeared, smoking a large cigarillo, while his translator droid bowed for him. Jabba pulled upon his cigarillo, speaking to his droid in Huttese, "The great and powerful Jabba greets you, monarch of Mandalore. He reciprocates your pain, knowing what it is like to have a vile kidnapper steal your child away from you. Especially one who is connected to the Confederacy of Independent Systems." Jabba gave me a hooded-eyed stare and nodded politely.

Despite the species gap, I could feel the disdain he held for the Confederacy's leadership bleeding into me, "The Mighty Jabba feels a kinship, one parent to another, and thought it would be best to reach out to you in your time of need. Knowing of your merciful and benevolent nature, he has in your stead placed a bounty on the heads of the scum responsible for kidnapping your daughter. He has also placed a standing reward for anyone who can return your daughter to you. He has done so expecting no consideration, reward, or gift from you in return."

I swallowed. This was surprising. I wasn't really sure how to handle it at first, but my eyes did tear up once more, "Thank you, Jabba. I'm not really sure what to say." In my weakness, and with this unexpected gesture, I said something honest, "I have just been so overwhelmed with the situation."

Jabba paused, closed his eyes slowly, and spoke to his translator, "Jabba understands your pain. The Confederacy of Independent Systems wanted to draw his Empire into the war against the Republic. In his pain, he was deceived by Dooku himself in framing the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker as the culprit." Jabba made a low rumbling laugh, "Though this does not appear to be the same reasoning, the outcome is the same nonetheless. You are unsure of your actions since they could lead to the unthinkable happening." Jabba nodded slowly.

I knew some huttese, so I was working the words out as Jabba, though I could not keep up, "It is a dangerous time for us neutrals in this conflict, and we must stick together. He advises you to learn from his miscalculation and to not make a hasty decision in this time of grief."

"I agree." I admitted, wilting in my throne slightly before looking back up. The time for grief had passed, now it was business, "Perhaps we should grow this understanding, then. Right now, we are suffering both raids and famine. Mandalore remains rich in material and industry, but it takes time for weapons to be forged and grain to be sewn. Perhaps, in the spirit of spiting our transgressors, we could make a deal?"

Jabba widened one eye before laughing heartily and spoke to someone off-screen, "The great and powerful Jabba says the Hutt Cartels do not do alliances like that, I'm afraid. They must look towards their neutrality in these trying times. However, the recent attack on Gargon has angered many members of the Cartel. We have been purchasing fighters from them for years, and this recent raid has taken not only our latest shipment, but the machines to make the fighters in the first place. While Mandalore has become a peaceful society under your wise leadership, Jabba knows that to have peace, you must prepare for war. An increase of trade in specific goods between the Council of Neutral Systems and the Hutt Cartels is within reach."

"That sounds like a possibility," I breathed, tenting my fingers, "though we'll have to have our diplomats come up with a proper trade treaty. While arms and armor are for sale, my people's health is not."

The slug-like gangster laughed, and his droid dutifully spoke for him, "Yes, it will take time to work that out. The mighty Jabba reiterates to not make decisions in haste, and until then, he will be in contact. You must believe your daughter will be returned to you safe and sound Duchess. Do not lose hope."

The call flickered to an end, and I let out a sigh. That was unexpected, but at least something good had come from this. Securing another alliance might be in the cards. If that required working with gangsters like Jabba, so be it. Tanya had done it when she was working on Gargon, I had done something barely better by working with the Arkanians, it was only par for the course. I needed to examine what the Hutts would want most after the raid on Gargon, "Inform Prime Minister Almec that I'll be retiring to my room for study."

"Of course." My secretary announced, waddling out of the throne room. I tried to clear my mind and focus on what needed to be done. But it was so hard. Someone was trying to push the boundaries of Mandalore right now. There were just so many small and minor things stacking up, trying to drive us toward war, I just knew it in my heart.

The conflict with the Journeyman Protectors' may be ending, but now a war between the Enclave and the CNS was brewing, even if it was just minor skirmishes between clans that thought they could earn some favor with me by striking at the hated enemy…

And the worst part was, I couldn't say that they wouldn't accomplish something. Not just because they might stumble upon Tanya and bring her back to me, but on the fact that I wanted to make the Dentari Enclave feel what I was feeling right now. I wanted them to suffer the wrath of Mandalore, a deep-seated emotional part that hated what had been done, was all in on calling for a war, and wiping the Dentarian Enclave off the map.

It took every ounce of control, and every pacifist bone in my body to not do something so foolish. I would not start a war, and even if I was driven into being at war, I would not call it a crusade. I would not abandon my pacifism completely just because I wanted to get Tanya back. Even though I was bending it in recent times. I had to be better than that, it was just how things had to be, no matter how much it hurt me to do it.

For Tanya, I had to be strong.

Tanya von Degurechaff

Drugs. Torture. Zealous Sith-praising chanting.

This pattern was becoming a familiar routine. A monotony of pain and suffering that chained one moment to the next, creating what counted as a record of the passage of time. Still things were blurry while strapped to this slab, as a mechanical arm stretched out from above to inject a fresh dose of the mind-numbing poison, I tried to focus on the sounds of the world around me.

Strange, I hear the march of jackboots… The hiss of hydraulics… the whine of rotor wheels… The rumbling of tracks… The roar of engines…?

Panzer? Die klingen wie Panzer …
I heard a distant voice, calling to me, "Frau Oberstleutnant? Kampfgruppe Kommandantin Degurechaff~? Zeit aufzuwachen~ gnädige Frau."

My sleepy head effortlessly translated her, 'Lady Lieutenant-Colonel? Commander Degurechaff~? Time to wake up ma'am!'

I squinted through the haze and saw Oberleutnant Viktoriya Serebryakov, "Visha?" It'd been many years, in two lives, that I'd seen her. It made me want to cry, remembering her smile, her voice, her coffee.
I was rewarded with a steaming cup of coffee materializing before me, "Wach auf, ich habe deinen Lieblingskaffee." Her cute little accent in Imperial remained the same. Like the carrot on the string, I was only given it after I fully rosed. The cold air of the officer's quarters of the forward base mixed with the warmth that flooded my body with each sip.

'Wake up, I got your favorite coffee' Good. I need my damn coffee.

I stumbled over my words for a few moments, trying to sip coffee and speak at the same time. I finally decided to speak before drinking, "Serebryakov, was ist das für ein Lärm draußen?" Damn why has it felt like forever since I tasted this bliss?

'Serebryakov, what's all that racket outside?' My mind explained to my lips.

She smiled, clapping her hands together in youthful delight, "Der letzte der Kampfgruppe Salamander trifft ein, Oberstleutnant."

'The last of Kampfgruppe Salamander is arriving, Lieutenant-Colonel.' Despite my efforts, a scowl still emerged as I almost coughed on my coffee. That's right, the combined arms unit that I never fucking asked for!

Damn you, Being X!

Damn you, and my own shitty luck!

After cleaning up, getting dressed, and drinking my coffee in peace, I marched out from my billet. Down I went, dwarfed by rows and columns of panzers, support vehicles, equipment crates, and the mechanics to maintain everything. The Generals had failed to mention that when I got this Kampfgruppe, that not only would I be receiving tanks, infantry, and artillery but hundreds of mechanics and engineers to keep such a force moving forward. Adding to my already numerous piles of responsibilities.

Ahead of us came Major Weiss, a promotion well-deserved for him. He stepped up and saluted, "Frau Oberstleutnant!" He greeted with an comforting energy, "Die Panzerkommandeure sind auf dem Exerzierplatz versammelt und warten auf die Inspektion."

I kept my shoulders steady as I sighed, 'The Panzer commanders are assembled on the parade ground, awaiting inspection.'

I adjusted my peaked cap, 'Let's get this over with.' "Lass uns das hinter uns bringen."

I turned the corner of a tent to be greeted with a field planning tent and outside it stood nearly two dozen officers and NCOs, "Achtung! Panzerbesatzungen, bereitmachen!" Weiss barked loudly, and with pure Germanian Imperial efficiency, the men snapped to attention with a thunder of boots stomping the grounds.

"Soldaten." I started, "Ich danke euch allen, dass ihr euch mir in der experimentellen Kampfgruppe Salamander angeschlossen habt. Wie ihr bereits wisst, wurde das Imperium erneut auf seine Existenzberechtigung in dieser grausamen Welt geprüft. Daher hat das Oberkommando euch für eine neue Art der Kriegsführung ausgewählt, denn die Armee des Vaterlandes muss sich weiterentwickeln, anpassen und die ständig wachsenden Bedrohungen für das Imperium überwinden. Wer ist nun der ranghöchste Offizier dieser Kompanie?"

It'd been a speech I'd been preparing for a while, 'I thank you all for joining me in the experimental Kampfgruppe Salamander. As you already know, the Empire has been challenged once again for its right to exist in this cruel world. Thus High Command has chosen you for a new breed of warfare, for the Fatherland's army must evolve, adapt, and overcome the ever increasing threats to the Empire. Now, who is the senior officer of this company?' Pretty standard stuff all considered.

A man in his thirties stepped forward, "Hauptmann Johann Wittmann, Oberstleutnant." He saluted.

I knew what I was going to ask already, 'Captain, it is my concern that your men lack the experience to adapt to the new challenges ahead. Forgive me for asking, but how much older are they than me?'

I motioned for him to step closer and he did, stopping in front of me. I used the cover of his body to look at the assembled men. Despite the fact I had to look straight up to meet his eyes, he had to look straight down, as if he were a chastised schoolboy. I had to ask, how old were these boys, "Hauptmann, Ich befürchte, dass Ihren Männern die Erfahrung fehlt, um sich den neuen Herausforderungen zu stellen. Verzeihen Sie die Frage, aber wie viel älter sind sie als ich?" He looked incredulously at me, perhaps because of my own age and stature. But I wasn't wrong, many of the NCOs looked too fresh-faced for this cruel assignment.

Wittmann corrected himself, admitting, "Ja. Meine Vorgesetzten dienten mit mir am Rhein, und wir waren alle Teil der Operation Drehtür. Ich kann jedoch ihre Entschlossenheit als Söhne des Vaterlandes bezeugen, unser Zuhause vor den Kommunisten zu verteidigen."

I passively absorbed his answer, 'My senior staff served with me on the Rhine, and we were all part of Operation Revolving Door. However, I can attest to their determination as sons of the Fatherland to defend our home from the Commies.'

I grunted, remaining unconvinced, "Ja, Ich mache mir nur Sorgen, dass diese Entschlossenheit sie mit übermäßigem Selbstvertrauen gegenüber dem wahren Ziel blind macht."

'I just worry that that determination will blind them with overconfidence towards the true goal.'

He tilted his head, "Das wahre Ziel?"

I nodded sagely, "Ja. Das Ziel, nach dem sie alle streben sollten. Nicht in die Statistik eingehen. Diesen Krieg überleben. Nach Hause zu ihren Familien zurückkehren."

To survive. To go home. To see their families. That was their true goal. Their only goal.

My true goal.

He hesitated, clearly taken aback by my declaration. But he recovered quickly, nodding in acknowledgment. But someone else spoke up, "Lassen Sie uns beweisen, dass wir, Frau Oberstleutnant!"

'Let us prove ourselves!' The eagerness reverberated through my mind.
The young lieutenant who had spoke out of turn was a strapping youth, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a confident smirk of inexperience.

I humored him, "Oh? Und wie würden Sie das tun, Herr Leutnant?"

'And how would you do that', was the starting pistol.

"Wir haben uns ein Lied ausgedacht. Nur für uns!" He cried, looking back and forth to his less than eager comrades.

'We've come up with a song. Just for us!' How typical of childish youths. But it was not my place to stomp on the spirit, war would do that soon enough. No matter how bawdy or rude the ditty would be, I would listen. It was my job to listen.

"Dann singen Sie." I called, waving dismissively at them all.
The youth started, eagerness and pride flowing from him like puppy dogs and rainbows, "Ob's stürmt oder schneit," reluctantly, other members of the parade joined in. "Ob die Sonne uns lacht!"

The youth started to stomp his foot like this were a polka, or a parade, and the Hauptman gave him a bone, joining the stomping.

"Der Tag glühend heiß

Oder eiskalt die Nacht,

Verstaubt sind die Gesichter,

Doch froh ist unser Sinn,

Ja unser Sinn.

Es braust unser Panzer

Im Sturmwind dahin."

It was weak at first, embarrassment and unease suffusing their bodies at my previous disbelief. But soon, the sounds of a morning camp died away as a thunderous chirrup overtook the officers before me, everyone in tune with each other.

I looked on, imperiously, striding up and down the formation as I heard each and every man's voice. I stopped in front of Weiss and Wittmann, one more unsure than the other about what to do. But Visha knew, she was clapping along, treating this for what it was.

I rolled my eyes, visible only to those two, "Dann singen Sie." I ordered Wittman.

They joined the men, though awkwardly, softly.

"Singen!" I barked, and they began to match the men on parade.

By the third loop, I overlooked them all, standing atop a shipping crate, my tween voice joining in.

"-Verstaubt sind die Gesichter,

Oder froh ist unser Sinn,

Ja unser Sinn.

Es braust unser Panzer

Im Sturmwind dahin!"

How many would end up dead before the end of the year? Before the war?

It didn't matter. If they would die, they would die. Just like I. Perhaps we could win this. Perhaps I could stick it to Being X that the Human Condition was more complex than he realized, that even with magic, we don't need to prostrate to an invisible parasite…

Writers note: holy shit this chapter is coming out thank God we're getting chapters out again ohh I'm hoping to speed it up but we'll see what happens we're at the minimum we've managed to keep it at least one chapter every two months I would like to get to 1 chapter every month we'll see what happens um I'm just not even going to talk about the issues in the background just let me know what you think of the chapter

Please comment, review, and generally enjoy yourselves…

Edited by: Blood Raven

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reviews
PoofyOhio: yeah same
therevanchist71: here you go

JaDe In NighT: most likly not
TecZero51 : devil coming
Alternate5 : that got updates today as well
therevanchist71: we shall see
Maverick123214685soon
maskedkeeper: ahh hard ware issues